I pull the door in, offering a smile to the brownie waiting in front of my room. I swallow another thanks, telling her instead, “I’m going down now.”
The domestic fairy nods in agreement. She starts to lead me back down the stairs. I’m too excited to match her pace. I dance around her, hurrying down toward the main floor of the inn.
I immediately spot the fae sitting with his back to me. I’d know that hair anywhere.
I head toward the table, calling out when I’m only a few feet away. “Rys. You’re here.”
As if responding to the overwhelming relief in my voice, the Seelie male turns in his seat.
I stop dead in my tracks.
Um. That’s not Rys.
Now that I can see his face instead of just his hair and his build, it’s obvious that he’s the same type of fae as Rys. He’s got the same bronze-colored skin that seems to emit a soft, golden glow inside of the gloomy inn; he’s brighter than the candlelight, and almost as hypnotic.
His features are perfect, even if they’re twisted in a look of distaste. Too perfect—there’s no scar. Definitely not Rys.
I recognize him, though. From the way he looks down his nose at his surroundings to the small dent in his chin, I’ve seen his face before. What has me standing stock-still, unable to do anything—not to move, not to shout, not to run upstairs even—except stare at him in fright? Is the fact that, any time I’ve seen that regal-looking fae, it’s been with prison bars between us.
Saxon.
He waves his hand at the only open seat remaining at his small table. “Take a seat, Elle.”
I stay where I am. Mainly because I still can’t believe I went through that entire escape only to have my shitty luck bring me right to an inn that a Siúcra guard frequents, and partly because I’m scared all the way to my bones that it wasn’t just luck.
Something tells me that this was planned.
Saxon sighs when I don’t move, then lowers his voice. “You have nothing to fear from me. Please. You’re already drawing attention.”
He’s not wrong. From the woman behind the bar, to the pair of dwarves huddled in the corner, and the group of… imps? They might be imps… everyone is watching us. I’d like to think it has to do with how he’s clearly the only fae inside of the inn, but no. Once again it’s the clueless human who’s catching everybody’s gaze.
Great.
You have nothing to fear from me… The fae can’t lie. Unfortunately, that doesn’t mean that everything they say is the truth. Jesus, I really hope that I can’t believe him this time.
Because I can’t see what else I can do, I slide into the seat opposite of Saxon’s.
“I’m not going back to jail,” I say, pitching my voice as low as possible while hiding just how absolutely scared I suddenly am.
I’m bluffing. Totally bluffing. If Saxon wants to bring me back, nothing is stopping him. He’s the law in this place and, I’m betting, beneath his cloak, he’s got a sword hanging off his hip. He’s stronger than me, faster than me, and has magic.
I’m screwed.
Chin up, Helen. Ride the bluff out and, if it doesn’t work, at least you tried.
“That’s nice. I have no intention of bringing you back.”
Well if that doesn’t take the wind out of my sail, then I don’t know what does. I puff out my breath, sinking into my seat. “Um.” The word ‘thanks’ is on the tip of my tongue but, before I let it slip, I think again of the little man who seemed delighted that I thanked him. Just in case, I swallow it back. “Then I’m glad we’re on the same page.”
“Indeed.”
“Okay, well, if you’re not here because… you know, then what are you doing here?” The brownie said one of the Seelie was asking for me. Was it Saxon? I don’t see Rys or any other fae inside the inn… “What do you want from me?”
Before he can give me an answer, a shadow falls over our table.
“Compliments of the house. Here you go.” Hildy sets two glass mugs down, one for Saxon and one for me. Her seductive smile only highlights how gorgeous she is. “Drink up.”
As she turns away from our table, she gives a swish of her hips that absolutely catches my eye which is saying something since it’s a stupid idea to take my attention off of Saxon for even a second. Couldn’t help it, though. Hildy’s waist is trim, her ass tight and round, and the skirt of her dress swishes, too.