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Chapter Four: Toby—I’m coming, Toby.

“Hello, Sarah,” Jareth greeted her calmly, hugging her little brother a little closer to his side. “How are you this evening?”

Sarah ignored his question, glaring at him harshly, her hands balled into tight fists at her side. “Give him back,” she snarled, her voice low and deadly. “He isn’t yours. You can’t have him.”

Jareth smiled. “I wasn’t planning on taking him,” he told her cheerfully. “Even though he is such a friendly little chap—I wouldn’t mind having one of my own, actually.” His smile was smug, thinking of what he would need to beget a child.

A wife, for one. He eyed Sarah’s body with a sudden glow in his eyes, considering how she would look once he got her in that position, once she no longer fought him.

Sarah didn’t miss the look, and wasn’t too far off in interpreting it. “Like anyone would want to have your brat,” she snapped, stepping forward to pull Toby from his arms.

He let her, widening his eyes slightly to look wounded. “Why ever not?” he asked, his tone full of injured pride. “Am I not handsome enough? Or enticing enough?”

Sarah clutched her little brother to her too tightly, resting her head on his while she rocked him, keeping him away from the Goblin King. “A pretty face doesn’t excuse an asshole personality,” she informed him scathingly.

A wide smirk lit up his features once again. “So you agree that I’m pretty,” he gloated. “That’s an unexpected boon.”

Toby began to fuss suddenly, twisting in Sarah’s arms to wave his hands at the intimidating blond monarch. “I wanna play!” he announced imperiously while Sarah tried to shush him unsuccessfully.

“Sh, Toby, we’ll play. We can play with your blocks—how about that?” Though her voice was sunny and cheerful, something in her expression was off. “Just as soon as someone leaves,” she added pointedly, shooting a glare at her imposing visitor.

Jareth held up his hands helplessly as Toby, ever the democratic host, announced, “Jareth play too!”

Jareth was grinning smugly, though—a fact Sarah hadn’t missed. “Actually, Toby-love, he has to leave. He has to go see his other friends, doesn’t he?” She glared at him for emphasis.

Jareth almost laughed at Sarah’s transparent effort to make him leave. As if that poor attempt would be successful. “I don’t, actually. I took the night off to come see you.” He batted his jewel-bright eyes at her flirtingly. “Of course, you’ve been refusing to see me so adamantly that I had to come see your dear brother instead.” He held out a hand to gesture to Toby, who took it as an invitation to grab his fingers and squeal. “Perhaps if you would let me come to you,” he purred, stepping closer as Sarah tried futilely to disengage the toddler’s fingers from Jareth’s without actually touching the Goblin King, “I wouldn’t intrude on your brother’s play.”

Death rode in the glare in Sarah’s eyes, though he ignored it, too amused at her attempts to free his hand without making contact. “You shouldn’t be intruding on any of our lives,” she snapped at him, flicking her eyes up suddenly to catch his, noticing how close he had moved while she had been distracted.

“And why is that?” he breathed, curving one arm around her waist before she could pull away. He stood almost behind her now, tugging her gently toward him, wanting her to lean against his chest.

Toby giggled happily and bounced in Sarah’s arms, waving the hand that he still held.

Jareth leaned down to purr in her ear, ignoring how she tried to jerk away from him. He knew that she couldn’t get too rough; she was still holding the toddler, and wouldn’t put him down for fear of him stealing the child again. She was so predictable that way.

“Don’t you like playing with my crystal...balls?”

She spun in his arms, her expression scandalized. So she could catch an innuendo. He half-closed his eyes, a smug, sultry expression on his face.

Ruined only slightly by the sharp elbow that met his side—he thought it might be unintentional. She would have done worse, if she had thought of it.

“You—” she snarled at him, hot anger writhing inside her, leaving her momentarily without the words to castigate him as he so richly deserved. Making insinuations like that, when she had clearly told him—more than once!—exactly what she thought of him! The man was insufferable.

Jareth smiled down at her impotent fury, loving the way her emerald—or were they hazel?—eyes flashed when she was angry. Passion truly did increase her charms. “Perhaps I should give one to Toby, then, if you don’t want yours,” he said lightly, keeping his eyes on her, ignoring the boy she still held. He was only a pawn in this game, had only ever been.

Her expression changed satisfyingly from anger to horror, imagining what she thought he might do with her little brother, if she let him get such an opening within her family.

“I wanna ball!” Toby shrieked. “I wanna play!” He had clearly lost his patience watching his two playmates talk over his head, ignorant to the tension strangling the air between them.

Jareth schooled his ethereal features into a pleasant mask as he regarded the small ball of energy. “Ask your sister,” he chided calmly, stroking the back of the boy’s hand with his thumb, still caught in the tiny fist.

“No.” Venom had replaced her voice, though it was half-choked with fear. She couldn’t let him near her brother, near her family. She couldn’t.

Jareth raised an eyebrow, not wincing as Toby’s face fell, then tightened into a wail of displeasure. The boy had strong lungs.

“If you will not use the gift that I gave to you, why should I not give it to someone else?” he challenged, eyes intense as he raised one finger to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

Her eyes darkened in wrath, but he kept his face still. She would call him.

“Give it to whomever you like,” she replied coldly, “just stay away from my family.”

Jareth smirked. “You have no power over me,” he taunted her, using the same words that she once had. “You don’t have the ability to order me to do anything.”

She scowled, her hands clenching on her younger brother, who had finally stopped screaming when he realized that doing so would not get him anything.

“If I do something, it is because I choose to.” Another sentiment of hers. “And I choose to be with your family.” He pulled her in, pinning her against his chest, his eyes glowing. “You or your brother. Make your choice.”

Sarah glared up at him, reading the iron will in his eyes, and knew that she had no choice, no escape. Heat radiated from his chest, and she had to concentrate simply to not hit him, though the thought was very tempting. Her chest rose and fell as she tried to formulate an answer.

“I’ll call you later,” she finally hissed.

Jareth smiled in triumph. “I’ll be waiting,” he assured her, then vanished.

* * *

Sarah almost growled in frustration, but pushed him out of her mind so that she could tend to Toby. She played with him, fed him, put him to bed...but all her efforts were for naught. Jareth haunted her thoughts like...

...like the greasy smell of cheap fast-food when your stomach was already unsettled; it made her queasy just to think of him.

How could he be so arrogant! she wondered, scrubbing their dishes from supper—grilled cheese and ice cream; Toby’s favorite. This isn’t even his world! It’s mine! It’s not f—

She caught herself there, remembering the harsh lesson that she had been forced to learn in his labyrinth. His own words mocked her, even from two years ago.

“You say that so often. I wonder what your basis for comparison is.”

Still. The thought that Jareth could return whenever he wanted, and perhaps disappear with her Toby again—it was terrifying. Her hands slowed as she scrubbed the old, cast iron skillet in the sink, the steam making her hair limp.

She plunged the dish into the scorching water and shivered suddenly, remembering his heat against her body. She didn’t even remember what he’d worn, but his expression, the feel of his body against hers—those she remembered with perfect clarity.

What was happening to her? He was dangerous, unpredictable—he was arrogant and spiteful, too used to getting everything he wanted! She couldn’t think about how his eyes always lit up most when he gazed at her, their strange blue-and-brown mix...

She snarled at herself for letting him distract her again—and he wasn’t even here!

She pulled the skillet from the sink and ripped a few paper towels from the roll to dry it with. Like it or not, she had to go face him again.

But this time, he wouldn’t come out with the upper hand.