Stolen Magic. Esri Rose

      “Squint.” He stepped a little closer. “And Aunt Kootie, who has a hairy mole. You made all of that up, didn’t you?”

      “Of course not. I couldn’t make all of it up.”

      “So Squint is really a hamster.” He reached out and took my hand, as if it were a vase he just happened to pick up to admire.

      “What are you doing?” I asked, watching him stroke my fingers.

      “Even though you’re bizarre and untrustworthy, I still find myself wanting to kiss you.” He cocked his head and looked at me. “Can you explain that?”

      “Not really.” I felt so breathless, it came out as a whisper.

      Mark closed the gap between us, pulling me into an embrace. I saw all of this as though I were standing a little distance away, and then his lips met mine and I was catapulted back into my body, which pressed up against his.

      So this is what all the fuss is about. Lenny had introduced me to sex in a detached, light-hearted way, but I had never kissed a human before, and it was the difference between a breeze and a storm.

      We merge with the land, but it’s as though they are the land—all the pull and gravity of it. I hadn’t realized how tired I was until I felt energy suffuse me in a rosy, fizzing tide. I pushed closer to Mark, widened my mouth against his, and moaned. He responded by burying one hand in my hair and practically lifting me off my feet.

      I wasn’t sure how long we’d been kissing when I heard several sets of heels on the sidewalk, followed by giggling.

      Mark pulled away and glanced at the approaching group of college girls. Taking my hand, he pulled me toward the entrance to the apartment building, which had a little roof over it and was somewhat sheltered between two spruce bushes.

      As soon as we stopped moving, I wound my arms around his neck. He rested his forehead against mine and grinned, his teeth white in the dusk. “So you do have some social skills.”

      “Be quiet and do that thing with your mouth again.”

      He bent his head obligingly, and I stood against him, feeling his heat along the length of my body and running my hands over his back, feeling his muscles flex under the thin cotton of his T-shirt. He turned me toward the door and pressed me against it.

      A light came on just over our heads, illuminating us as though we were on a very small stage.

      I pulled away. “What the hell?”

      “It’s just your security light.” He chuckled, holding my hands. “Did you forget about it?”

      “I guess so.” I looked around nervously.

      He bent his head and kissed me lightly. “We could always go inside. I promise to behave myself, at least as much as you want me to.”

      I was still breathing heavily. “Inside. No, I don’t think so.” I stepped away from the door, pulling him after me. “Look. There’s a little bench around the side. Let’s sit there.”

      The bench sat under a window, but the window was dark, and trees sheltered it on either side. He sat and pulled me onto his lap. I was enjoying this new position when I heard a scrabbling noise from the other side of the window, followed by crazed barking from inside.

      “Oh, honestly!” I sent a mental message to the dog on the other side of the door. I don’t mean any harm. I’m just an elf trying to get some, okay?

      My house! Mine! Get off my property! Go! Now! Go!

      Just because you can communicate with a dog doesn’t mean it’ll listen to you.

      A light came on inside. Mark grabbed my hand and pulled me back to the sidewalk. “I feel like a teenager,” he said, laughing. “Any minute now, some old grouch is going to come out and say, ‘You kids should be at home!’” He still had my hand, and he pulled me back into the circle of his arms. “Or is that your dog, and your boyfriend is going to come out and catch me kissing you?”

      He didn’t seem worried, because he moved his hands to the back of my head and kissed me deeply enough to make me forget everything else.

      “What do you want to do, Adlia?” he asked, when we came up for air. “Shall we go inside?”

      If I were human, I would have a home to take him to. We would make love, and then we would talk for hours, holding nothing back. For the first time, I would know that someone cared about me. But I wasn’t human.

      “Adlia?”

      I glamoured him, and watched all the affection and expectation drain from his face. “Go home, Mark Speranzi,” I whispered, kissing his unresponsive lips. “You deserve more than lies. So do I, for that matter.”

      After making him think I’d taken a taxi home and he had gone for a walk, I turned him around and sent him on his way. He strolled down the block, hands in his pockets, with no idea that I was behind him.