By Fairy Means or Foul: A Starfig Investigations Novel(7)

“Okay, well, good then. I’m actually pretty proficient at office work. I used to work in the bursar’s office at . . . um, well, it doesn’t really matter, does it? I can do the work, sir.” He crossed his arms over his chest like he was giving himself a hug.

And maybe he was. I suddenly wondered if he really had known what being an indentured servant entailed. But it would be better than a long stint in a cold, dank dungeon. He’d done well for himself all things considered. I wondered if he . . .

No, I didn’t need to know. Knowing too much about others meant I might develop empathy for them, and really there wasn’t room in a dragon’s life for those kinds of soft emotions. Not really in a fairy’s life either, come to think of it.

He shivered, and I smelled his sudden anxiety. I could almost see the wheels turning as he tried to play out the different scenarios. “Y-you won’t tell Brandsome that we won’t be having sex, will you?”

For some reason this made my throat feel tight, so I knelt down next to him again. He winced before he could stop himself, but didn’t move away. I gripped his chin and tilted his head until he had to look at me. He sucked in a pained breath, his eyes going wide and wary once again.

“I’m not going to tell Brandsome anything. He can assume what he wants.”

His eyes searched mine, a glimmer of hope appearing before his lids slammed closed. He gave me a stiff nod.

He didn’t believe me.

“You won’t be mistreated on my watch. I need you to trust me because you won’t be much use to me if you keep jumping every time I look your way. Do you think you can do that for me?”

“Of course, sir.” He swallowed, and wouldn’t meet my eyes. Lying again. Not that I was surprised. Even a runty half-dragon like me would seem pretty fierce to a human. I probably didn’t inspire trust or any other safe emotion. And in his former line of work, trust was an emotion that could get you killed. Still . . .

“Quinn, I need you to try.” I smoothed my knuckles over his cheek enjoying the barest feel of blond stubble before I stood and gave him some space to think things over.

“You know my name.” He said it like it was unfathomable, a hint of awe in his voice.

“Yes. I wouldn’t be a good detective if I didn’t pay attention. Quinn Broomsparkle, right?” I smiled. “Also, I don’t want you calling me ‘sir.’ It gives me the creeps. Just call me Twig.”

“O-Okay.” His expression shifted between cautious and hopeful. He’d learn soon enough I meant him no harm and wouldn’t be reporting back to Brandsome on anything.

“So are you going to tell me the real story with Rainbowpebbles?” I returned to my seat, and signaled for him to return to his.

He hesitated to do so, though after a moment, his jaw firmed and he slid back into his chair.

“Brandsome and Lapus like to play cards together. Both are inveterate cheats.”

My jaw had to be on the ground.

“Unicorns gamble?” My voice couldn’t sound more scandalized if I tried.

Quinn chuckled. “Oh yeah . . . sir. . . . I mean, Twig. He likes to drink anything he can get his hooves on, and he smokes jiggyweed at every opportunity. When he thinks no one is listening he whispers curse words. In several languages.”

I shook my head. Mind officially blown.

“So, Rainbowpebbles slipped him some bluebell nectar in order to win?”

Quinn wrinkled his nose like he smelled something rotten. “Hardly. Brandsome could drink a barrel of the stuff and still keep his wits about him. No, he just wasn’t as good a cheat that evening as Lapus. You could say his greed got the better of him.”

I sat back, steepled my fingers. “Explain.”

Quinn gingerly leaned back in his chair, gripped the armrests like I might tell him to kneel instead. “I told you, he’s not a good person. At first, he tried to use me as part of the bet, but as much as Lapus would have jumped at the chance on another day, he was obviously fixated on having Brandsome’s horn.”

“What does he want with it?”

Quinn shrugged. “I don’t know. But he’s tried to get Brandsome to trade me to him for some of his clientele on numerous occasions. A human fetish is big business here. Especially males.” His voice was bitter as he said the words. “It wasn’t any kindness on Brandsome’s part that he didn’t do it. He was just waiting for the right deal. That’s why I was surprised when he offered me up and Lapus didn’t accept.”

My stomach lurched at the image of a human—or anyone—being traded to Rainbowpebbles. He was one sick little fuck.

“What did Brandsome think was worth trading your, uh, service for, and that he’d willingly bet his horn?” Unicorns were supposed to be full of sunshine and love. This did not fit my picture of them. At all. Could I believe this thief? My dragon believed him, that much was clear.

Quinn swallowed. “The blood of a virgin sprite.”

“You mean, he holds a captive child?” I heard the growl in my voice, smoke puffed from my nose, and Quinn drew back as though I meant to roast him alive.

“No, no, an adult.” He held his hands up in a calming gesture.

“Impossible.” Everyone knew how amorous—some might even say undiscerning—sprites were. No way a sprite reached maturity with virginity intact.