By Fairy Means or Foul: A Starfig Investigations Novel(6)

I avoided Quinn’s gaze, read over the document, making note of his full name, then placed my thumb on the line indicated, once I determined everything was in order. With a flash of light—and a few rainbow shimmers—it was complete. Quinn Broomsparkle was now my responsibility.

What had I done?

Brandsome smiled, a Cheshire cat grin—not near as attractive as you’d think—and gave me a finger wave. “I do so hope you can retrieve my horn within two weeks. I have an appearance for Glitter Apparel I must attend in full form and I can’t imagine the mortification if I had to use a fake.” He shuddered. “I’m sure a clever creature such as yourself understands the need for all haste.”

“Wait, I’ll also need his residency papers so the High Council won’t get in a huff.” Since my father sat on the council, I couldn’t get away with any bureaucratic laxity. I knew enough to be sure my father would ask.

The unicorn chortled. “Silly, he’s a bed slave. He doesn’t need any.” He might as well have said Quinn wasn’t a person at all.

With that he flounced from my office leaving a glitter trail in his wake. In another few seconds I heard the outer door slam.

Quinn sighed. It sounded suspiciously like relief.

“Why do I have the feeling I’ve been bamboozled?”

“Because anyone who has dealings with Brandsome Nightwind can be confident they’re being swindled, sir.”

“Perfect.”

Quinn’s skin remained as pale as a graveyard ghoul, but he smiled in a flirtatious manner, much like Brandsome had done. It didn’t seem genuine, that was for sure. “Appears we’ll be spending some time getting to know each other. Intimately.” He winked. It looked more like his face was having a convulsion.

“Fate worse than death, eh?”

If possible, he paled even further. “No, no, why would you think that? I, uh, I want to sleep with you. Like Brandsome said, I’m very eager. Very.” He pulled his hands from my grasp and fumbled at the laces of my trousers. I stilled his fingers again.

“Why don’t you try being honest with me?”

“Y-you’re quite handsome.” When I snorted, he added, “That was honest. You have to know you’re gorgeous. Even Brandsome noticed. And getting his attention isn’t easy.”

“Uh huh.”

“P-please don’t send me back to Brandsome. I’m willing to do whatever you want, sir. I’m sure you’ll enjoy it. He’s trained me well.” His gaze dropped to the floor as he shifted to straddle my lap and then pressed up against me in a way that was supposed to be sexy, but made me want to shove him off me. The message rang loud and clear—I’d enjoy it, not him.

Now, I was offended. I didn’t plan to take advantage of him at any rate, yet could he be any more insulting? Not like I needed a pity fuck. There were plenty of magical creatures more than willing to spend time in my bed.

“You know, dragons are known for their stamina,” I said to goad him a little.

“And selfishness,” he muttered under his breath, probably thinking I wouldn’t hear him. Little did he know, dragons had exceptional hearing.

I laughed.

“I-I mean—”

“True enough. I suppose it’s a good thing I have some fairy in me then.”

“Yeah, that’s so much better . . . sir.” He looked on the verge of a nervous breakdown, even as he tugged at his hands so he could go to work on my trousers again. I decided to put the poor guy out of his misery.

“I’m not planning to use your services if that’s what you’re worried about. I like my bed partners willing.”

“But . . . I am willing. . . .” His voice trailed off. He studied my face as if to gauge whether I told the truth or not.

“You’re not. Not really.”

His eyes narrowed. “Then why did you take my contract? What other use could I be to you?”

I shrugged, embarrassed to say I did it to keep him safe. I had a reputation to uphold after all. Being a softy—especially toward a criminal—really wasn’t beneficial in my line of work. And I can’t even really say why I felt the need to save him. Besides, he’d signed a contract with Brandsome. He had to know what he’d be getting into, right? I mean, the guy reeked of pheromones, and all things sexual. He was a trained professional, in more ways than one. But I still couldn’t bring myself to use his services knowing he didn’t really have the right to choose. Damn morals.

I set him off my lap. Reaching down, I snatched the sack off the floor and it tore like soggy tissue, spilling all his personal effects. A few items of clothing, lots of little pouches of who knew what, several sizable tomes—a thief who liked to read?—and other basic necessities. Lots and lots of face paint and body sprays. A sad statement about the guy’s life.

“Oh damn. Sorry.” Crouching to help, I scooped up as much as I could and handed it to him. “I’m sure I have another bag around here somewhere.” I then went in search of something he could use. Finding a suitable substitute, I handed it off, then returned to my seat.

Once he finished repacking his items, I said, “I thought you could work in my office. I’m looking for help anyway. This will kill two fairies with one spell.”

Not sure he believed me, but his shoulders seemed to relax and color began returning to his cheeks, though he stayed kneeling near my feet.