Free A Risky Proposition by Dawn Addonizio Page B

Sparrow’s eyes followed him until he was gone.
    “Who was that?”
    “Oh, just my boss’ son,” I smirked.  “I think he might have developed a crush on me.  He’s seventeen.  I’m sure he’ll get over it in a day or two.”
    Sparrow raised a dark eyebrow and gave a noncommittal nod.
    I tore open a pink packet of sweetener and carefully sprinkled half into my iced tea, stirring it with my straw as the questions I wanted to ask percolated in my mind. 
    “So, when you arrested Balthus, you’re saying it wasn’t for stealing that woman’s soul?”
    Sparrow combed his fingers through his dark hair with a sigh of frustration, leaving it charmingly disheveled.  “I shouldn’t be discussing the details of the case with you, Sydney.  She is very much his type, though.  I don’t know if you noticed, but she bears quite a bit of resemblance to you.”
    I had noticed, and the idea that it could have been me lying in that hospital bed made my stomach lurch.  “Lorien said he was arrested for having an illegal soul…unaligned, or whatever,” I replied in discomfort.  “I just assumed it was hers.”
    “Bloomin’ faeries,” he mumbled.  “Incapable of discretion, every last one of them.”
    I frowned at him.  “I take it that means you’re the one who told Lorien about Balthus.  You know she only told me because she’s trying to help with the whole death djinn thing.  Besides, I thought you were half-faerie.”
    “I’m half-sidhe; Lorien’s a sprite,” he corrected flatly.  “And as it happens, I did tell that little loud-mouth why Balthus was arrested.  In confidence.  And only because she’s been a pint-sized pain in the ass about it all week.”
    I smiled.  “She can be very persistent.”
    “That’s an understatement,” he muttered.
    “She says she’s been researching death djinn contracts.  And that there’s no record of anyone ever getting out of one,” I added with a grimace.
    A look of regret passed across his handsome face.  “I’m truly sorry, Sydney.  I wish I could help you…”
    My eyes widened at his choice of words and he stared at me for a moment before a slightly queasy look overtook him.
    “See how easy it is to slip up?” I asked with a despairing laugh.
    His tanned, symbol-entwined arm moved toward me, as if he wanted to touch me, but he pulled back at the last moment.  Something within me strained toward him, disappointed that he’d changed his mind.
    The silence went on for a beat too long and I cleared my throat.  “What kind of tattoos are those?” I asked to fill the void.
    He glanced down at his arms, flexing his muscles so that they shifted smoothly beneath his skin, giving the intricate designs a life of their own.  “Ancient Celtic runes and symbols of power and protection.  A gift from my sidhe kin, who’ve passed down the art from generation to generation.”
    “Cool,” I breathed.  “Can they really protect you when you’re in danger?”
    “That they can—and have many a time,” he added with a grin that ignited sparks in his eyes and sent my heart into a quicker rhythm.
    “What’s that one?” I asked, pointing to a particularly striking design high on his thick upper arm.
    “Ah, that’s one of my first and one of my favorites,” he answered with a nostalgic smile as he pushed up the edge of his sleeve so that the inking was fully visible.  “It’s quite a traditional design, and very powerful—it’s called an Aegishjalmur.  It gives its bearer protection and irresistibility in battle.”
    I think it’s giving you irresistibility in more than just battle, I thought.
    “It’s beautiful,” I whispered aloud, reaching forward to trace it with my forefinger before I realized what I was doing.  A shock of electricity passed between us and for a split second the tattoo glowed red through the black ink, bathing my palm in heat.
    I jerked my hand away and anxiously met Sparrow’s eyes.  They blazed a radiant