Small Magics Read Online Free PDF Page B

bananas.
    Chocolate was expensive as hell. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had some. If I survived this job, I’d buy a couple of truffles.
    I watched Saiman load bananas and milk into a manual blender and crank the handle, cutting the whole thing into a coarse mess. Not the chocolate, not the chocolate . . . Yep, threw it in there, too. What a waste.
    He poured the concoction into a two-quart jug and began chugging it. Shapeshifters did burn a ton of calories. I sighed, mourning the loss of the chocolate, and sipped my coffee. “Give.”
    “The man in question is the son of Pavel Semyonov. He’s the premier volkhv  in the Russian community here. The boy’s name is Grigorii, and he’s completely right, I did marry him, as Yulya, of course. The acorn was very well guarded and I needed a way in.”
    “Unbelievable.”
    Saiman smiled. Apparently he thought I’d paid him a compliment. “Are you familiar with the ritual of firing the arrow?”
    “It’s an archaic folkloric ritual. The shooter is blindfolded and spun around, so he blindly fires. The flight of the arrow foretells the correct direction of the object the person seeks. If a woman picks up the arrow, she and the shooter are fated to be together.”
    Saiman wiped his mouth. “I picked up the arrow. It took me five months from the arrow to the acorn.”
    “How long did it take you to con that poor guy into marriage?”
    “Three months. The combination of open lust but withholding of actual sex really works wonders.”
    I shook my head. “Grigorii is in love with you. He thinks his wife is in danger. He’s trying to rescue her.”
    Saiman shrugged. “I had to obtain the acorn. I could say that he’s young and resilient, but really his state of mind is the least of my concerns.”
    “You’re a terrible human being.”
    “I beg to differ. All people are driven by their primary selfishness. I’m simply more honest than most. Furthermore, he had the use of a beautiful woman, created to his precise specifications, for two months. I did my research into his sexual practices quite thoroughly, to the point of sleeping with him twice as a prostitute to make sure I knew his preferences.”
    “If we get out of this, I need to remember never to work for you again.”
    Saiman smiled. “But you will. If the price is right.”
    “No.”
    “Anyone will work for anyone and anyone will sleep with anyone, if the price is right and the partnership is attractive enough. Suppose I invited you to spend a week here with me. Luxurious clothes. Beautiful shoes.” He looked at my old boots, which were in danger of falling apart. “Magnificent meals. All the chocolate you could ever want.”
    So he’d caught me.
    “All that for the price of having sex with me. I would even sweeten the deal by assuming a shape preferable to you. Anyone you want. Any shape, any size, any color, any gender. All in total confidentiality. Nobody ever has to know you were here. The offer is on the table.” He placed his hand on the counter, palm down. “Right now. I promise you a week of total bliss—assuming we survive. You’ll never get another chance to be this pampered. All I need from you is one word.”
    “No.”
    He blinked. “Don’t you want to think about it?”
    “No.”
    He clamped his mouth shut. Muscles played along his jaw. “Why?”
    The TV screen ignited. Grigorii appeared in the glow. Saiman strode to the screen with a scowl on his face. “I’ll make it short.” His body boiled, twisted, stretched. I shut my eyes. It was that or lose my precious coffee. When I opened them, a petite red-haired woman stood in Saiman’s place.
    “Does this explain things enough?” Saiman asked. “Or do I need to spell it out, Grigorii?”
    “You’re her?”
    “Yes.”
    “I don’t believe it.”
    Saiman sighed. “Would you like me to list your preferred positions, in the order you typically enjoy them? Shall we speak of intimate things? I could recite most of our