Be Careful What You Wish For Read online

  “If you wish to stay, you may but you must not interfere,” Judge StoneThroat growled. “Bailiff—take him to the flogging post.”

  The flogging post? Cass felt sick to her stomach. Then again, Jake had told her that the troll judge wouldn’t hesitate to have the skin peeled right off their bodies. Maybe flogging was actually a light punishment. But still—flogging! It was horrible no matter how you looked at it.

  Feeling like someone had poured a gallon of icy water into her stomach, Cass followed the stone bailiff on wobbly legs as it led Jake around the high stone podium to an area beyond which was mostly shrouded in shadows. There she saw a tall stone post with leather thongs tied to it.

  “Strip off your shirt and jacket and face the post with your hands through the loops,” the bailiff ordered in a low, grinding voice. “Do not move while the punishment is being administered or you will incur further sanctions.”

  “Jake…” Cass felt tears rising in her throat at the awfulness of all of this. She liked to think of herself as being pretty tough but nothing in the human world had prepared her for the horrible reality of the Fae Realm.

  The big elf simply shook his head at her as he removed his coat, tie, and shirt, revealing a muscular chest and broad shoulders. He would have looked mouthwatering if her mouth hadn’t been so dry and her stomach tied in knots.

  “Would you hold these?” he asked, handing them to Cass.

  She took them numbly and crushed the bundle of clothes, still warm from his body, to her chest. She couldn’t believe how casually he was taking all this. Was this the normal order of business here for lawyers? Could they be flogged or punished at any time? If so, why would anyone want to become an attorney here in the Fae Realm? What the hell was wrong with these people?

  “Jake,” she whispered again but he only shook his head.

  “Please don’t watch if it upsets you,” he murmured. Then he turned and raised his muscular arms, fitting his hands through the leather loops fixed to the top of the tall stone post. “I’m ready.”

  “Good.” Judge StoneThroat had come down from his podium and Cass was surprised to see that he was only about half as tall as she was herself. He was short and squat and under the black robes he wore, his skin was as gray and wrinkled as an elephant’s all over.

  She wondered if she ought to plead with the troll judge not to do this to Jake but from the avid light in his squinty yellow eyes she was pretty sure what his answer would be. He wanted to see Jake whipped—he was positively looking forward to it!

  Sick bastard! A sudden rush of hatred went through her and she had to bite her tongue to keep from saying something nasty—something that might get her flogged herself.

  “Begin the flogging, bailiff,” StoneThroat proclaimed. “Thirty lashes should be sufficient to teach Counselor O’Shea a lesson about leaving court early.”

  Thirty lashes? Cass could hardly believe it. That seemed like a lot—especially when the stone bailiff produced a whip made of leather flecked with sharp slivers of rock.

  This can’t be right—they can’t really be going to flog him. They can’t—

  But her thoughts were cut off abruptly when the huge bailiff drew back its arm and let the whip sing. It hit Jake’s back with the flat, cracking sound of leather meeting flesh. The big elf made a low noise at the impact but didn’t move a muscle even when a long red mark appeared on his smooth tan back.

  “One,” the stone bailiff grunted and drew back its arm again.

  Again the whip fell. Again the bailiff counted and another red stripe appeared on Jake’s flesh. And another and another and another until the skin was torn and bleeding and rivulets of red were running down his broad shoulders and back.

  Cass bit her lip until she tasted blood herself, trying to keep from screaming. Her hands were clenched into fists at her sides and the pain in her feet from the ridiculous shoes was forgotten. All she could see—all she could think about—was the awful thing taking place in front of her eyes. The flogging that Jake was taking for her.

  It felt like she’d been dropped suddenly into a nightmare and she couldn’t wake up. Here was the dark side of the Realm. The glittery pink Rodeo Drive exterior with all the shops and buildings hid an ugly, rotten heart and now that she had seen it, Cass knew she would never be able to get it completely out of her mind again.

  She wanted to look away as the whipping continued but she found that she couldn’t. Jake was doing this for her—because of her—the least she could do was watch every stroke. Tears stung her eyes and her vision double and then trebled but she made her self watch until the end.

  At last the final stroke fell and the stone bailiff grunted, “Thirty.”

  “Very well.” Judge StoneThroat nodded in apparent satisfaction at the bloody mess that had been Jake’s broad back. “I daresay this will be a lesson you will not soon forget, Counselor O’Shea. Never dare to leave my courtroom early again. Now, you may go.”

  At first Cass wasn’t even sure the big elf had heard the judge’s words. He was sagging in the leather thongs, his head hung down, breathing in long, ragged gasps.

  “Jake?” she whispered, daring to go to him now that the flogging was finally over. She didn’t want to touch his back for fear of making the pain worse but she managed to insinuate herself between him and the stone whipping post so she could look up into his eyes.

  “Jake?” she whispered again. “Are you okay?” Then she could have kicked herself. “God, I know that’s a stupid question. Just let me know what I can do for you. Do you guys have 911 here in the Realm? Some way to get to the hospital? If there even is a hospital,” she added to herself.

  His leaf green eyes opened at last and Cass saw that his face was a mask of pain.

  “Are you…crying, Cassandra?” His deep voice was gravelly with agony.

  “Crying?” Cass dashed her back of her hand over her eyes. “So what if I am? What does it matter?”

  “Tears have…power here in the Realm.” He shook his head. “Shouldn’t…cry in public. It’s not safe. Someone might…covet your tears.”

  Cass had no idea what he was talking about and she didn’t care. All she wanted was to get him someplace where he could get medical attention for his back.

  “Never mind about me crying” she said fiercely. “We have to get you to a hospital before you lose any more blood!”

  “I can…heal myself.” He pulled his wrists free of the leather loops, wincing as the motion hurt his torn back. “But not here. I must…get back to my own house. To my source of power.”

  “Can you do that?” Cass asked worriedly. “I mean can you just…poof out of here and end up back at your place like you did after the soul-sucker attack?”

  “I can always get myself home.” His voice sounded a little stronger, though still hoarse, she thought. “I am drawn to it. But…” He winced as he straightened up to his full height. “Until I am healed, I will not have the strength to take you back to your home. I am afraid you will have to accompany me for now.”

  “All right.” Cass nodded. “I’ll go with you. And…” she bit her lip—which was really sore by now. “And I promise I won’t mess with your magic mirror U-News thingy.”

  “That is the least of my worries right now. Come…” He held out an arm to her and Cass went to him, still clutching his bundle of clothes as she pressed carefully against his broad chest.

  The big elf got a look of painful concentration on his face and then, with a poof of spicy-smelling, navy blue smoke, they left the awful courtroom behind them.

  Twenty-Four

  Cass found herself back in the warm golden twilight glow of Jake’s home with one of the elf’s long, muscular arms still draped heavily around her shoulders. As she tried to regain her balance after the disorienting trip, she felt him start to sag against her.

  “Jake?” She looked up at him anxiously and saw that his long lashes were fluttering over his leaf-green eyes, as though he was drifting in and out of conscio
usness. Crap, if he fell over there wasn’t much she could do to catch him! He was way too big and muscular for her to handle on her own.

  “Jake,” she said again, snapping her fingers under his nose. “Come on—stay with me! I can’t carry you all around the way you carried me—I’m not strong enough!”

  “Forgive me.” He swayed again and then made a visible effort to straighten up. “Traveling…took more of my strength than I thought it would. I am…weak.”

  “We need to get you cleaned up,” Cass said. “Which way to your bathroom?”

  “Through there.” He nodded down a long hallway which led off of the main living area with its fire of blue and green flames and the plush leather sofa.

  “All right—come on.” Cass dropped the bundle of clothes she’d been carrying and looped his muscular arm more firmly around her neck. Slowly, they began moving in the direction he had indicated. They passed an open doorway and she glimpsed a broad bed covered in a silver spread just inside it. The sight was intriguing but not what she was after.

  Thankfully, the next doorway down opened onto a large, luxurious bathroom with a broad, sunken marble tub, a double sink, and an enclosed shower stall.

  Cass scanned the room and picked the shower as the best place to do what had to be done.

  “Come on. Oof—you’re heavy!” she gasped as she guided the big elf into the small, echoing chamber and helped him sit on the floor.

  “I can…heal myself,” he protested, but his voice sounded faint.

  “Not until you get cleaned up,” Cass told him sternly. She took a minute to finally strip off the awful hooker heels which she was thoroughly sick of, so she wouldn’t slip on the tiles, and then looked around.

  She was glad to see that the shower had a detachable head, much like one she might see back home. Unlike anything she might see at home, however, was the fact that the shower head was shaped like a gold and green leaf. When she pulled it down and examined it, she saw that the inside of it actually looked like a flower, golden petals and all. The water, apparently, came out from the center of the petals.

  There were several knobs and levers and it took her a moment to get the water to flow at the right temperature and intensity. When she finally did, she turned back to Jake, who had slumped to one side against the green tiled wall.

  “Jake? Jake!” Seeing the big, strong elf look so wounded and vulnerable sent a jolt of fear through her. What if he was so hurt he couldn’t heal himself? What if he died from lack of blood loss because she couldn’t help him and didn’t know how to call for help in this strange place?

  Stop playing the what-if game and get hold of yourself, Cass! she scolded herself angrily. Come on—Jake needs your help. Just do what you came here to do and get him cleaned off to start with so you can assess the damage.

  “Okay, Jake—I’m afraid this is going to hurt,” she told the big elf, who was still largely unresponsive.

  Walking around so that she could reach his back, she carefully aimed the gentle stream of lukewarm water at his broad shoulders.

  The big elf hissed and sat upright, his eyes fluttering to wakefulness as Cass sprayed the blood off his torn back.

  “I’m really sorry about this,” she told him as she worked. “I know it doesn’t feel good but we have to get you cleaned up.”

  Jake winced but nodded as though in agreement.

  “True,” he muttered thickly. “I think the whip was…coated in agony potion. Better to…get it all washed off.”

  “Agony potion?” Cass shivered. As if the awful whip with its sharp slivers of rock wasn’t bad enough by itself! She continued washing Jake’s back, making certain to cover every inch of it several times though it made her feel sick to see how torn and cut up he was from the flogging. It was a good thing she had a strong stomach!

  Still, he was in this condition for her sake, she reminded herself. To be honest, it was kind of an amazing thought. Brandon couldn’t even be bothered to drive to her house to pose for her so she could paint him—whereas Jake had been willing to let himself be hurt and whipped for her in Judge StoneThroat’s courtroom. Even though he was angry with her for doing the fae equivalent of peeking at his personal diary.

  Why had he done it? Was it because he was just so honorable he would never allow a client to suffer pain? Or could there be some other reason?

  “Better now,” Jake said at last, breaking into her train of thought. He sounded considerably more alert. “But I don’t feel strong enough to sing a spell of healing for myself.”

  “You don’t? What do you need me to do?” Cass asked anxiously. “Just tell me.”

  “I need to get out of these wet clothes for one thing—you’re wet as well,” he murmured, surveying the way the black pants and shirt stuck to her body.

  “Oh…yeah, I guess so.” Cass looked down at herself and plucked at the damp black blouse which was clinging to her braless breasts and outlining her nipples. She felt a surge of embarrassment that she hadn’t noticed her state before but really, who could blame her? She’d had a lot of other things on her mind—such as hosing down her court-appointed elf.

  She stepped out of the shower stall and found a stack of fluffy white and silver striped towels on the countertop between the double sinks. She took one for herself and handed one to Jake, who had levered himself up to a standing position and was in the act of taking off the rest of his soaked suit.

  Before she could see too much, Cass slipped quickly into a small door in the wall which she assumed was hiding the toilet for privacy’s sake. Instead, she found herself in Jake’s walk-in closet.

  “Hmmm…” Cass took a moment to look around. There were racks for hanging clothes around the top and rows of built in, dark wood drawers under them. It was a very masculine space and it smelled faintly of the warm, spicy musk she associated with being near the big elf.

  It was also every bit as neat and orderly as she had imagined on her first trip here with suits hanging in rows and highly polished shoes and boots lined up neatly below them.

  She didn’t have time to snoop in his underwear and sock drawer however—she was only in here to change clothes, Cass told herself sternly.

  Quickly she stripped off her soaked shirt and pants and wrapped the fluffy towel around herself, securing it with a knot under one arm. Then she gathered the wet things and slipped out of the closet, holding them in a ball.

  The big elf was in a similar state of undress with the towel wrapped around his lean, muscular hips. He was standing in front of the double sinks with a bottle in one hand and a frown on his face.

  “Hey, can I help?” Cass dumped her wet clothes in one of the sinks and came over to him. It occurred to her that they looked like a married couple—both wrapped in towels and sharing a bathroom after a mutual shower. The thought made her blush and she tried to push it away.

  “I have some healing balm here but I can’t reach my own back,” Jake admitted, looking annoyed. “If I could just start the process I could regain a little of my strength and finish the healing with words of power.”

  “Let me, then.” Cass held out her hand for the bottle.

  He raised an eyebrow at her.

  “You don’t mind?”

  “Are you kidding me? You got hurt like this for me! That horrible Judge StoneThroat had you flogged because you left to save me from the soul-sucker, remember?” Cass said fiercely. She found her eyes were burning and she had to blink rapidly as she spoke. “You didn’t have to do that, Jake. I just…” She took a deep breath. “I just want to do anything I can to help heal you—to repay you. Although I know I never can.”

  His eyes, which had been sharp with pain, softened slightly.

  “No repayment is necessary, Cassandra. I was simply doing what any honorable Counselor would do for his or her client.”

  “No you weren’t,” Cass argued. “You went above and beyond! Like with these…”

  She pointed to the pain amplifier wristband she still wore becaus
e they’d left in such a hurry she hadn’t taken it off. Now she stripped it off her arm and showed it to Jake before dropping it to the countertop.

  “You had the attendant put a special attachment on yours so that you felt any pain that awful troll judge sent my way. You didn’t have to do that!” she told him. “Why did you do it? Especially when you were still so mad at me?”

  “I couldn’t allow you to be hurt.” Jake’s voice was strangely gentle. “As I told you when I first took your case, I always take full responsibility for my clients, Cassandra.”

  “I still say you didn’t have to do it. The FG’s lawyer didn’t do it for her,” Cass pointed out. “I heard her complaining about it. Anyway, just give me that bottle and go sit on the edge of the tub.”

  She held out her hand again and this time Jake handed her the bottle. It was a strange, long-necked thing made of carved blue glass with an elaborate rose-red stopper. To Cass it looked like the kind of bottle a genie might come out of. But when Jake had settled himself on the edge of the tub as she had requested and she pulled the stopper out, she saw only a long glass wand attached to it.

  The wand was dripping with a pale, pearlescent solution which Cass supposed must be the healing balm. Gently, she dabbed the wand along his wounded back and shoulders, trying to make certain she covered all the hurt areas completely with the sticky stuff.

  As she worked, leaning over his torn back, she couldn’t help replaying the flogging in her mind. The way the lash had licked out to bite him again and again…the awful sound of it hitting his flesh…his low grunts of pain and his stoic refusal to cry out or move though the agony must have been enormous…

  And all for me—he did it all for me. Why? Why would anyone let themselves be hurt so badly for someone they barely even know? What did I do to deserve that?

  “Cassandra? Are you crying again?”

  Jake’s deep voice interrupted her thoughts.

  “What? What are you talking about?” Cass demanded but her voice came out in a croak as she realized that she was, indeed, crying again. A few teardrops had even fallen on his broad shoulder. Crap! She sniffed angrily. She hated to cry! It made her feel vulnerable and stupid and girly. Normally she never cried—she was tough, damn it.