with this carpet design by accident, we’re gonna have problems.”
“Let me see if I can track them down,” Emily said. “Somebody from the design firm was supposed to be here.”
“Are they clued in?” Meaghan asked.
“Not that I’m aware of, but I’ll see what I can find out.” Emily pulled her phone from her pocket and headed for the stairs. “Excuse me a moment.”
The kid, Dustin, breathed a sigh of relief. “I thought she’d never leave. I have something I need to show you.” He held up his index finger. “Gimme a sec. Wait here.”
He disappeared down the hallway. Meaghan heard a whispered conversation—an intense debate, it sounded like—then Dustin reappeared. “We heard about what happened last night in the woods. I told Sam this wasn’t the time, but he really wants to meet you. Says he wants to help.”
“Who’s Sam? And how did you hear about last night?”
Dustin looked at the pulsating floor. “Uh, Melanie. The Troon.”
Meaghan nodded. “I know Melanie.” She wasn’t going to add that Melanie was at her house. Dustin seemed harmless, but until she had more information, she was going to let him do the talking. “So, who’s Sam?”
“He’s not like the others,” Dustin said. “Don’t hurt him.”
“Why would I hurt him?”
“Dustin, it is all right,” a voice behind Dustin said, in a stilted accent that sounded familiar. “I believe she will not harm me if I do not give her cause.”
“Huh, not sure I believe that, bro.” Dustin’s face grew pink.
“What kind of a psycho do you think I am?” Meaghan asked. “I don’t randomly attack people. I promise I won’t hurt him. Who the hell is Sam?”
A small figure, clad in gray, stepped from behind Dustin. “I am Sam.”
One of the fair folk stood before her. She took a step back and scanned the room for something made of steel, anything. The city seemed to have hired the tidiest contractors they could find.
It’s a construction site. There has to be something.
“Dustin,” she said, trying to keep her voice calm, “you need to get back through your gateway and close it as fast as you can. I don’t know what Sam looks like to you, but he’s—”
“An elf,” Dustin finished. “Yeah, I know. But he’s a good guy. He’s not like the others.”
“He tell you that?” Meaghan backed toward the front entrance. If she could get down the stairs, she could grab a stapler, or . . .
“Please,” the elf said. “Dustin, tell her what you see.”
“Uh, he’s about four feet tall and kinda skinny, and—no offense, dude—kinda ugly. He’s not doing the Lord of the Rings thing on me. I can see him for what he is. Sammy, I knew she was gonna have trouble with this.”
The elf held out his hands and walked slowly toward her. “Please. I am not like them. I am . . . I do not feed on humans. I need your help.”
Meaghan was almost to the front door of the suite when she saw the toolbox behind the open door. She grabbed a claw hammer in one hand and a large screwdriver in the other and waved them at the elf. “Not one step closer. Dustin, get the hell out of here.”
Dustin shook his shaggy head, his face twisted in misery. “I told you she wasn’t ready. Please don’t hurt him. He’s my friend. Listen to him.”
The elf kneeled in front of Meaghan and pulled something out of his shirt.
Then Natalie walked in, Emily on her heels.
Chapter Fifteen
N ATALIE TOOK ONE look at the scene in front her and turned on Emily. “That’s your game? You bitch.” She threw a hex at Emily, who countered.
Meaghan heard Dustin screech, “Oh, shit,” as he dove to the floor.
She stared down at the elf and saw what he held in his hand. An iron nail twisted into a circle hung from a fine chain around his neck. The elf was wearing iron.
He was wearing iron. Voluntarily.
A spell crackled past her. Meaghan threw herself on top of the elf, protecting him from the spells Natalie was shooting at him.
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