Pandora's Box (5 page)

Now . . . hell, now she might even prefer living on that deserted little island. It was all gone. Everything she’d ever wanted
had almost been hers, and boom, it was gone. Not just the boyfriend who, she now admitted, had probably been a mistake. But
everything else that had felt so blessedly normal. People, for pete’s sake. Small talk, smiles, friendly gestures. That was
gone, too.

Busy with work, a new house, and her now-defunct romance, Mina had lost touch with friends she’d made in college. No doubt
they were all pursuing their own, very different lives as well. As for her more recent acquaintances, well, losing her job
due to her great acts of immorality tended to stigmatize a woman who lived in the same neighborhood where she worked. Ever
since Mina’s professional fall from grace, the coworkers and near neighbors she’d once called friends—or at least acquaintances—had
given her a wide berth. Friendly greetings had turned to speculative, even suspicious glances. So Mina was the neighborhood
freak all over again. She had no one.

Well, except for her mom. And tonight Mina just didn’t feel up to enduring a séance or exorcism or whatever horror her mother
would deem appropriate to banish the voice and hoof problem. Wouldn’t the neighbors just love that?

Silently cringing, she forced a smile for Teague. “No, you don’t need to call anyone. I’ll be fine. But thanks anyway.”

His brow furrowed briefly, then cleared a little. “Look, call me crazy, but would you do me a favor?”

“Um, sure. I guess. What?”

He dug in his back pocket, retrieved his wallet, then slipped out a worn-looking business card. He handed it to her. “This
is my number at home. And Janelle left hers on the little table here. You start to feel weird at all—I mean
anything
—call me or call her. Promise?”

“Aw. Just Teague. Are you worried about me?” She was touched, damn it. The man didn’t have to go this far.

“Well, do you blame me? You took a brick to the head just a while ago, fell down unconscious. I don’t feel right about leaving
you here.”

“I appreciate it. Really. It’s . . . a lot more than a lot of guys would do. Even ones on the payroll.” She smiled. “I’ll
be fine. But, yes, if I start feeling like my head’s really busted, I’ll call. Okay?”

He didn’t look happy, but he nodded. “See you tomorrow, then, if not before. Honestly. Don’t hesitate to pick up the phone.
It’s no trouble at all and I don’t live that far from here.”

She raised both hands helplessly, palms out. “I believe you.” She smiled again. No doubt she looked like a love crazed—or
at least lust-crazed and soft-brained—idiot. “Thanks.”

Reluctantly, he gave her a little wave and left, locking up as promised. He really, really was a nice guy. If it weren’t for
the wonky head and another woman’s dibsies, she might try following up on that one.

Shameless hussy. I saw the way you were looking at him.

She jumped, then sank slowly into the cushions. Right. That little problem she’d been having. To think she’d actually dreaded
the dead silence of an empty home. “You’re still here.”

Well, yeah. It’s not like I have anywhere else to go.

Gee, that didn’t sound promising—and this hearing-of-voices-in-the-head really had to go. The least her twisted mind could
do was provide an acceptable visual to go with the aural half of this figment of her imagination. Still, any visual was better
than no visual. “Okay. I’m ready for it. Show yourself again. If I’m having a nervous breakdown, I’d like proof from at least
two of my senses.”

Sure about that? You really freaked last time.

“Oh, no. I’m braced for it this time. Give me your worst.” She stared, hard, at the place where he’d last appeared.

The air in front of her TV seemed to thicken, the colors and lines blurring and darkening. Hooves shimmered into view, followed
by long, slender legs, muscular flanks, belly, chest, and arching neck. The very last to come into view was perhaps the weirdest,
at least for her. Yellow eyes. A black stallion with eerily glowing yellow eyes. He swished his tail at her and said, “You
know, the stallion’s one of my more attractive embodiments. Women usually find it . . . exciting.”

“Oh, my god. A lecherous horse who talks. This is too much. You’re right. It’s been way too long since I got laid if I’m picturing
literal stallions. And you know, some things should really never leave the metaphorical level.” She was shaking her head,
simply rejecting what her eyes were telling her. It just couldn’t be. “So you just stay here. I’ll go get Teague back and
shamelessly jump him and then you can go away. Sound like a plan?” She bared her teeth in a brittle smile.

“Now why would I encourage you to jump some other man? I’m here and obviously as potent as anything you can conjure in that
inflexible little brain of yours.”

“Ooooooh. Ickickickick. Blech. Propositioning from a horse. What, do I look like Catherine the Great?”

“Actually, I have it on excellent authority that she really did not do horses.”

“You do. Great.” She frowned, intrigued despite herself. “Whose authority?”

A lecherous grin—on a horse, for pete’s sake—slowly curled his lips. “My own. Naturally.”

“So what did you—” Mina stared, ideas gelling into visuals she couldn’t possibly entertain. “Never mind. I don’t want to know.”

The horse shifted its weight and turned its head with the equine equivalence of coy modesty. “Although I have to say, once
I shifted to human form, she was really quite impressed.”

“Lalalalalalala. I’m not lissst-en-innnnng. Hm-hmmm-hmmmmmmmm-hm-hmmmmmmmmmm.”

“Oh, lighten up. I was just teasing. Like a Russian empress would rendezvous with a condemned puca. You are so gullible. You
know, I’d almost forgotten about that puritanical aspect you Americans have. You consider yourselves such rebels, but let
anyone admit to a few creative sexual urges and you get all uptight and judgmental. Narrow-minded prudes.”

“I was not—and it had nothing to do with—aaaargh. So why am I being lectured by a horse? On the subject of sexuality, no less?”
She slumped back on the couch. “You know, this is really not my day. I started out this morning thinking—foolishly, of course—that
there was a possibility I could pay up on my mortgage and keep a roof over my head. I end the day with a rock instead of cash,
my wall imploded, a possible concussion, and a horse lecturing me about sexual inhibitions.”

“I was just saying—”

“Right. Forget sex. I’m not talking to you or acknowledging your existence further until you answer some questions. You did
say you’ve been deprived of human contact for a while? I could make it a whole lot longer.” Could she? Was she really getting
caught up in this little hallucination she was having?

“Fine. Ask away.” A bored horse. This wasn’t right.

“What are you? Mr. Ed? And why are you here? Assuming I’m not nuts—and that is a stretch, I have to admit—can anyone else
see you or am I the only one blessed with this lovely vision? And last, what the hell do you want from me? Why me?”

“
I
”—the horse raised its chin and tail, appearing almost regal for a moment—“am a puca.” It widened its eyes for effect. When
Mina didn’t react, the horse dropped its tail back to normal position. “I really hate this. You’ve never even heard of a puca?
What’s the problem with the last three generations? I just do not get respect anymore.”

Mina shrugged. “We call you guys horses around here, but generally, our horses don’t talk.”

“Oh, pah!” In a shimmering flash, the stallion shifted from horse to eagle to goat to muscular nude man blur and back to horse.

Mina blinked, dazed by the sexy man blur. She couldn’t see the human form or face clearly, the flash had been so brief—just
a stirring impression of charisma and sensual arrogance potent enough to kick her in the libido. Then he was back to equine
form. “Okay. A little more than a horse . . .” Her damn heart was palpitating, in fact. That last image . . .

The horse showed his teeth in a slimy grin. “You liked that one, didn’t you?”

“One what?” She frowned, defensive now. He was still a horse, damn it all. Shut up, libido. Nobody asked you.

“The human form.” The horse tipped its head with false modesty. “I understand it’s easy on a woman’s eyes. And other parts.”

Mina scowled. “Back to the definition part. You said you were a puca. And . . .” She blinked, remembering blurred shapes.
“I mean you . . .” Nervous, she licked her lips and tried again. “So yooouuu . . .”

“So I . . .” Ducking his head slightly, he followed her helpless gaze and her drawn-out word, then ended her question for
her: “. . . shape-shift?”

“Yeah. That.” She blinked, then frowned. “No, not that. This just can’t be. It’s all in my head.”

He snorted impatiently. “Do you want your answers or not?”

“You call these answers?”

“Yes, I do.” The horse was calm.

“Then, fine. Let’s go ahead and weave this fantasy a little more. Why not? I can still call the doctor later.”

“Oooh.” His ears pricked up. “The sexy she-doctor who attended you earlier?”

“Down, boy.” She paused. “Oh, good grief.”

“Yeah, horses don’t rear much. So, on to your next question, which I believe was a rather rude ‘why are you here?’ I’m here
because you inherited me.”

“No, I inherited a rock. No one told me anything about a horse.”

“I’m not a horse. I’m a—”

“For now I choose to call you a horse and will continue to pretend that this conversation was conjured out of a busted brain.
You’re just part of a freaky dream I’m intended to interpret and analyze when my head’s fixed.”

The horse sighed.

A horse— No. She couldn’t keep doing this.

“Didn’t you read the letter from the old lady?” The horse did a cheerful little shuffle step. “Obviously not or I wouldn’t
be free, now would I?”

“Huh? You mean, the letter the attorney gave me?” She glanced around for it.

“That’s the one. And before you ask, no, I don’t know what’s in the letter from your cousin Gladys. I’m not allowed to look.
Only you are. But I gotta figure it’s full of rules and spells and dictates and no-nos, or why else would they keep it from
me?”

“Rules—”

“But I’m free! At least a little free. I mean, sure, I can’t exactly go anywhere exciting or shift into anything truly effective
until I satisfy a vengeful Druid priest. But at least I’m not locked inside that dank little . . .” The horse’s gaze—and Mina’s—slid
to the rock lying next to her.

“No. In there? You were inside the cornerstone? But you wouldn’t fit.” She was scowling even before the horse tipped its head
in a mocking manner. “So, what, did you poof yourself into a little gray mousie and squeeze yourself inside the rock?”

“I wish. No, that was my disembodied form in there. Which, like that envelope you never opened, is just one more thing we
should probably discuss.”

Mina closed her eyes. “Right. How did I get myself into this, anyway? Obviously, through sheer idiocy. When it comes to legal
paperwork, one should always, always be suspicious. ‘Guardian’ of a rock, my ass.” She sighed and refocused. “So, let’s try
this one: Why me?”

“Why were you picked to inherit me?”

She nodded.

“Well, there’s your lineage, of course. You know, the whole Avebury thing. Oh, and by the way, the pronunciation’s more like
Ay
-bry, not Ave-berry. I think maybe your ancestor had a cold when he stepped foot on American soil and offered his name.”

“Gee. Fascinating. I know an attorney who would just love to chat with you. Can we skip semantics, though, and get back to
the fun inherit-a-puca fantasy?”

Long ears tipped back just a little as yellow eyes narrowed. “I was just explaining. So, like I said, first there’s the Avebury
lineage. But that wouldn’t do it by itself. No, what it all boils down to, baby, is
spinsterhood
.”

“Oh, please. Like anybody even uses that word anymore. Lots of people voluntarily stay single well into their thirties, forties,
even longer.”

“Hey, I’m just answering your question. You should have married your little boyfriend when you had the chance instead of just
shacking up with him.” He snorted in what Mina could only presume was mocking equine laughter. “Ironically enough, my ex-girlfriend’s
outraged daddy didn’t think my female jailer needed to be virginal. Virginity is not the standard; the unmarried state is.”

She scowled. “Why should either be an issue?”

“Practicality. This way you can devote all your time to watching over me, instead of taking care of a husband and family.
Sure, a virgin guardian sounds so otherworldly on paper, but virginity’s no longer the prize it once was. Consequently, a
virginity requirement would disqualify too many potential guardians. Such a shame for you that the Druid priest Akker saw
far enough into the future to realize how mores would change over time.” He shrugged. “So that means your marital status counts.
Your sex life, however, is completely inconsequential.”

“Oh, nice. You sound like my mother now.”

“Hates sex, huh?”

Mina gave a short laugh. “Oh, no. Just the opposite. She thinks I’m one mass of inhibitions and hang-ups just because I prefer
serial monogamy to perpetual slutdom.” Okay, so that was a mild exaggeration. Lizzy Dixon never wanted her daughter to engage
in mindless, meaningless sex, but she also thought Mina took the act a little too seriously.

“A little repressed are we?” The stallion made sympathetic noises. “Well.” And now there was a sly lilt to the horse’s voice.
“Maybe I could do you a favor before I trot off into the sunset. You know, once we’ve broken the curse, saved the day, all
that good stuff.”

“A favor? What kind of favor?” Mina eyed him suspiciously.

“Well, it sounds like Mommy dearest is recommending a little sexual adventure for you. I’m thinking if I promise to go adventuring
with you, you’ll help me figure out how to lift this stupid curse.”

“Oh, I see. I get to be some horse’s pity fuck, and in return for this honor, I have to help said horse break some kind of
curse. What about this doesn’t seem fair? And what the hell am I saying? I need help.”