perched her hands on her tiny hips. “Have you any sense whatsoever of blending with the populace?”
I looked down at my pink booty shorts and crop top. “They don’t wear this in Thornwood?” I asked innocently.
The pixie rolled her eyes and I smiled when her back was turned. Like I said. They’d known perfectly well I wasn’t going to show up in tactical gear or a suit.
“You can keep the glitter.”
Robin’s deep, sensuous voice sent an entirely welcome shiver down my spine. He descended a set of dark stairs behind me, and I found myself backing away, giving myself a bit of breathing room.
He was still just as gorgeous even without a fear-for-my-life induced adrenaline rush to heighten my senses.
Deep blue eyes looked me over. “They’ll expect glitter where you’re going.”
I resisted the urge to cross my arms over my chest. “Right. Because I’m the honeypot. Sure you don’t want to put on the miniskirt and give it a go?”
He didn’t bother to dignify that with a response, choosing instead to cross to his desk and slide open one of the drawers. “First things first. We need to go over the mission parameters.”
I just about choked on my own spit. “Mission parameters? I’m going to a nightclub, not invading the Seelie Palace.”
He was extremely good at ignoring me. Robin pulled a manila file out of the drawer and slapped it on the desk. “Have a seat. And take those wings off, I don’t need glitter all over my chairs.”
I complied, hanging the mesh wings on a hat stand and pulling up a wooden dining chair. “What’s the plan, boss? Whose pot am I honeying?”
He had graceful hands, long fingered and elegant. They matched the rest of his polished demeanor perfectly, down to the pressed white shirt and perfectly trimmed beard.
Those brilliant eyes flashed up to my face, dead serious, and I found my humor fading fast.
“You’re going to help me convict Prince Brightkin of human trafficking and breaking the Unveiled Accords.”
All my humor over this ridiculous situation vanished like a popped bubble. I sat back in my chair, staring down at the incomprehensible papers.
Prince Brightkin was second only to Queen Titania, her eldest son and the heir to the Seelie Throne. Everyone knew his thousand-watt smile and sea green eyes, because his face graced most of the tabloids on a regular basis. The subject of his potential engagement to a princess from the Autumn Court of Tír na nÓg had dominated the newspapers for most of the last three months.
And as for the Unveiled Accords… they were the only reason Avilion existed in the open, the only reason that humans and Fae could coexist at all.
They promised protection for any human in the city, that no one would be spirited away by the Wild Hunt or fed a poisonous mushroom for entertainment, that each and every human would wake up exactly as they’d gone to sleep.
Or as much as they could, anyways. I still wasn’t convinced being around even a small amount of Fae magic didn’t incontrovertibly change humans.
“There’s no way.” My voice sounded far away. Breaking the Unveiled Accords for a Lesser Fae was an immediate death sentence. There was no trial, just a swift execution in the street.
Robin shuffled the papers. “Collecting solid evidence will be difficult, but with you to grease the wheels, it’s completely possible—”
“No,” I interrupted. “I mean there’s no way Prince Brightkin is breaking the Accords. He’s…”
Robin raised an eyebrow. “‘The hottest thing since ‘Djinn Gone Wild’?” He quoted the latest tabloid with acid tones. “I hate to break this to you, but beauty doesn’t mean the soul isn’t rotten to the core.”
“I mean he can’t because he’s the heir apparent to the Seelie Throne,” I snapped. “He’s the prince.”
Robin’s full lips twisted, and he tapped the papers. “That’s why we haven’t arrested him yet. As the prince, he’s nearly untouchable, and the Queen would prefer we handle this quietly.”
A sick feeling bloomed in my stomach. A Lesser Fae would be gunned down on the spot, but the Prince practically got a free pass.
“This is extraordinarily important, Miss Appletree. I was pulled from the Ghosthand Killer case to take care of this.” He slipped a photo from the papers and slid it across the desk to me. “Prince Brightkin’s activities are putting the Accords at extreme risk. Queen Titania wants him brought under control as quickly as possible, with as much solid proof as possible when we do so. If humans are being trafficked