Spin the Shadows (Dark and Wicked Fae #1) - Cate Corvin Page 0,15
into unregulated Fae territory…”
He didn’t bother to end it. I could guess.
More than one human activist group wanted the Unveiled Accords shut down. The loudest and most radical of them, the Unstained Souls, had been loudly in favor of nuking Avilion and wiping it off the map completely.
Fortunately, most of humanity was more enamored with us than vying to blast us into a radioactive wasteland. If they found out a high-ranking Gentry was enslaving people and shipping them out to the worst of the Solitary Fae, well… we might be looking at open warfare.
“Fine.” I looked down at the photograph in my hands and cringed.
Most of the pictures I’d seen of the Prince were of him smiling, waving to photogs, and being the most desirable bachelor in Avilion, generally speaking.
This photo was a candid shot of Brightkin passed out on a filthy floor, his face buried in the asscrack of a naked dryad. She was coated in glitter, with glimmering violet lines of evanesce, the most expensive drug in the city, still smeared across her ass. Several naked nereids and even a huldra were sprawled out over him.
All of that was understandable for a guy with as much money to burn as Brightkin, but… the worst part was a human girl who had no business being there.
She had to be in her late teens, blonde and pretty, but she was staring up at the camera, her pupils eating up most of her eyes and a slack look to her mouth.
“Did… did he give her evanesce?” I asked, sliding the photo back.
Evanesce was not meant for humans at all. It was made of magic, and being magicless, the human brain was eaten away by the drug until there was nothing but stringy webs of it left in their skull.
Robin was unsmiling and grim when he tucked the photo back into place. “Likely. Small doses of evanesce would certainly keep a human compliant.”
I felt sick. All those mornings we’d gathered in Fairy Ferry with gossip about Prince Brightkin, and he’d been face down in someone’s ass, high on evanesce, with a human involved.
Almost as bad, I realized why Sisse had been overjoyed that Robin had dragged an extortable dryad into his house. Brightkin clearly had it bad for nymphs.
“I don’t… I don’t have to let him touch me, do I?”
Robin looked at me, really looked into my face, and must’ve seen the sickness there. Some of the sternness left his own expression, his eyes softening. “You might have to let him put an arm around you, but no, I don’t expect you to allow him to grope or fuck you.”
The word fuck coming out of his mouth was jarring. He seemed too refined for that, but there was also something carnal and dirty about it, like he’d be an animal once the pressed shirt came off.
I shifted in my seat, thinking of Gwyn’s joke about nymphs who liked bananas. “Okay. I can do this. I think.”
“You can. All you have to do is play vapid and be gorgeous, and he’ll be eating out of your hand. Your only goal is to get close to his inner circle.” Robin shuffled the papers back into the envelope and tucked them in the drawer, then slid another one open. “Now, I have two things for you. The first one is a perk of the job.”
I almost gasped out loud when he slid a shiny new box across the desk to me. “An Acorn 8? Those aren’t even on the market yet!”
The box had already been opened, and the sleek dark phone inside was nothing like my broken Dandelion+. It powered on when I tapped it, showing a background of gently waving lavender fields.
“I’ve already had your old contact list downloaded to the directory. My name is pinned for you, so you can call whenever you need help or find something.” Robin was still searching for something else, not paying attention to me lovingly cradling the phone I’d never be able to afford on my own.
“Wait.” I eyed the phone, so beautiful and unattainable only moments ago, with suspicion. “How did you get my contact list?”
“I have a contact who works in the Acorn data center.” He found what he was looking for and brought up a smaller box. “Miss Appletree. I’m the Left Hand of the Seelie Court. In less than thirty minutes, I could have someone bring up every text, every photo you’ve taken, for the past two years.”