Free For Your Heart (Hill Dweller Retellings) by A.L. Davroe

rapist-sociopath-stalker-killer guy.  Even if he’s not real, he might get spiteful and cause a brain aneurism or something.  “Look, you didn't answer my question,” I remind, turning to put Nephilim John on the shelf.  “Why are you here?  Why can’t you just leave me alone?”  There’s desperation in my voice.  “What are you?  Like, a cat or something?  Play with your prey before you kill it?”
         “Much as the idea of playing with you entertains me, Lovely, I’m sort of in a time crunch.”  Green Man's voice sounds amused.  “You know why I'm here.  The rose?”
         “Oh, right.” I picked a rose.  The Greenpeace advocate wants money.  Well, if that’s all I need to do to get him to leave…  I walk to the piggy bank sitting on my desk.  There's a good amount of cash in it.  I've been saving my allowance and the money I make working at the ice cream stand at the lake over the summers to buy a car.  Goodbye dream Leaf.  “How much do I owe you,” I ask, turning the bank over and pinching at the rubber stopper.
         “Your heart.”
         He sounds so sincere that I have to look up to make sure he's smirking.  He’s not.  “My heart?” I scoff in disbelief.  What's with this guy?  First he pulls a knife on me, then he stalks me, and now he wants a date?  “You’re joking, right?”
         Green Man stands and comes toward me.  His eyes are like bottomless pools of cool Alaskan water – murky grey with gold and green floating in its depths.  He reaches out, takes the bank out of my fingers, and places it on the desk with a thunk .
         For a long moment, he stares at me.  And I stare back, blushing like an idiot.  And then he steps closer, his voice so deep it vibrates the air between us.  “That's what Roxel says.  One human heart for one rose.”
         “Roxel?” I breathe, suddenly unable to think.  “W-who's that?”
         He takes a step back, as if knowing his presence is a tease.  “Roxel is the Summer Queen.  She's the owner of the rose you plucked,” he replies without missing a beat.
         There's that Summer Queen nonsense again.  I'd almost forgotten about it in my haste to prevent myself from being institutionalized and failing Spanish.  “What's a Summer Queen?”  I know the answer, but I'm hoping the prognosis isn’t as horrible as it seems.  If he says what I think he’s going to say, then I’ll know for certain I’m crazy.
         “She's the Aos Si that rules over Tír na nÓg , controls the Summer gates between Otherworld and Earth, pays the Summer tithe, and rules over the Summer faeries.”
         I go a little wobbly.  Yeah, that’s the same Summer Queen I was thinking of.  But I know her as the mythical queen of the faeries.  I’m uncertain about all this other stuff.  Did I make that up subconsciously?  Oh good grief, I really am crazy.  My knees go weak and I sink to the floor.  “Ess-Shee?”
         He squats in front of me, keeping eye contact.  “The Aos Si are the Gentry.  They rule over the faerie races in Otherworld.  They’re very powerful.”
         I scoff.  “What, like for real?  Like, inhuman, supernatural beings?”
         He cocks his head.  “They are perhaps more cruel than your average human, but I would not call them inhuman.  The Aos Si are descended from humans – at least partly.”
         Shaking my head, I say, “You've got to be kidding me.  I mean, I may be into reading this kind of stuff,” I gesture at the heap of manga and fantasy novels on my floor, “but I don't believe it.”  Do I?
         Green Man gives me an annoyed expression.  “Do you think I'm lying to you?  I've never given you a reason to think I'd lie to you.”
         “Okay, fine.  Prove it,” I growl.  “Prove you’re not a hallucination.  Prove faeries and these ess-shee people exist.”
         He spreads his arms wide looks down