Spin the Shadows (Dark and Wicked Fae #1) - Cate Corvin Page 0,9

be revoked by the Seelie Garda without a second thought.

If I was lucky, they’d at least allow me to portal back to Emain Ablach; if not, I’d be unlawfully stuck in Avilion. Worst case, I’d have to venture to Sobek Street and into the Undercity, hoping to find a way home through the Unseelie Court.

I was more likely to find my way to an unmarked grave in the Undercity.

Robin raised an arched eyebrow. “You had no problem stealing my fruit.”

I chewed my lower lip, cursing the damn fruit even as I was salivating for more. “What if I repay you for the fruit with money?”

“The only repayment I want will come in the form of your cooperation, time, and effort,” he said, his eyes boring into me. “If you’re worried about punishment, there’s no need to fear reprisal if you’re working on my orders.”

“What if I give you the berries back?” I asked, trying not to sound desperate.

The exasperated look was back on his face, but he wasn’t any less attractive for it. There was something very appealing in the way he rolled his eyes upwards, almost like he was a normal Lesser Fae. “Are you going to vomit them on my desk? No, thank you.”

I fell silent and thought of any way out of this. The only sound was the logs popping in the fireplace and the soft tinkle of Sisse’s wings as she fluttered back to Robin’s desk.

“What if I don’t agree to any of this?”

Robin’s smile was chilly. “You said you had a visa?” He gestured to the closed laptop on his desk. “It takes one sentence from me to have it permanently deleted from the system.”

The only way this day could’ve been any worse was if Queen Titania herself materialized in this strange office and revoked my visa personally.

There was no way out. I’d stolen from the Gentry, I’d seen the remains in his yard, and now I was going to pay for it.

“Let’s say I agree to work for you,” I said slowly, thinking it through. “Do I get compensation? It sounds like I’d be putting my life in danger with all this spying and stealing…”

Robin looked me over, from the Fairy Ferry shirt tied just under my bra, over my bare stomach, and finally to the sheer amount of leg my shorts showed off. His smile became warmer. “I’ll pay you just for having the balls to ask.”

“I want twice the hourly rate I get for Fairy Ferry,” I said quickly. “And dental. And weekends off.”

“Dental?” Robin gave me an incredulous look. “Your teeth are perfect. And I can’t agree to weekends, but I will give you two days off per week.”

He thought my teeth were perfect? How had he even seen them? I’d been too terrified to smile.

“And per diem!” I blurted out. If I was going to be working two jobs, someone was going to be financing my tart addiction and maybe a wardrobe update.

Robin laughed. It was the kind of sound that sent a shiver down my spine, and not the unpleasant kind. “And per diem. For all this, you agree to the terms set? In six months, your debt for thievery will be repaid.”

I hesitated, but even during my bargaining, I hadn’t thought of any loopholes. There was no way out. Lesser Fae simply didn’t refuse the Gentry.

“I agree.” I stepped forward, almost bumping into the edge of his desk.

Robin unstoppered the decanter and poured a finger of the jade green liquid in the shot glass. He held it out to me, and when I took the glass, his finger brushed mine. He never looked away from my face.

“This is our binding agreement,” he said. “When you drink this, you swear loyalty to me. You will not be able to speak of my name, my appearance, or my plans to anyone considered my enemy. You will be held accountable for six months of service- in exchange for fair pay, dental, two weekdays off, and per diem.” The corner of his mouth twitched when he spoke, like he was trying not to laugh again.

It was my last chance for any concessions. “I want to know your full name, too. And if this Arrian guy has a good reason to be in pieces in your backyard.”

He finally smiled, his teeth white against the black of his beard. “Robin Goodfellow. Let’s just say that our late friend Arrian was plotting against our Queen’s life, and what he received was far kinder than what

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