These Hollow Vows (These Hollow Vows, #1)(4)
“I can and I will.”
Nik stares at me for a long beat, and in her eyes I see her desperation warring with her fear for me. Finally she pulls me into her arms and squeezes me tight. “I’ll repay you. Someday. Somehow. I swear it.”
“You owe me nothing.” I pull out of her arms, eager to get home and clean up. Desperate to sleep. “You would’ve done the same for me and Jas if you could have.”
Her eyes fill with tears, and I watch one spill over and down her cheek, smearing her makeup as it goes. Her gratitude morphs to worry as she spots my bloody hand. “What happened?”
I make a fist to hide my sliced palm. “It’s nothing. Just a cut.”
“Just a cut? It’s an infection waiting to happen.” She nods to her bedroom. “Come with me. I can help.”
Knowing she won’t let me go without a fight, I follow her into the tiny room where there’s a rickety dresser and the bed she and her daughter share. I sit on the edge of the bed and watch as she shuts the door behind her and gathers supplies.
She sinks to her haunches in front of me and paints a salve on my cut. “You got this getting that money.” It’s not a question, so I don’t bother with a lie. “Are you okay?”
I try to hold still as the salve seeps into my skin. The flesh itches where it knits together. “I’m fine. I just need some dinner and a nap.”
Dark, incredulous eyes flash to mine. “A nap? Brie, you’re so run-down I’m not sure anything but a coma would refresh you.”
I laugh—or try to. It sounds more like a pathetic mewl. So tired.
“Another payment due to your aunt?”
“Tomorrow.” I swallow hard at the thought. I’m seventeen, but I’m magically bound to a contract that will, at this rate, keep me in Madame Vivias’s debt for the rest of my life. When my sister and I signed ourselves into servitude nine years ago, Uncle Devlin had just died and Mom had abandoned us. The payments Madame V required then seemed reasonable—and much better than the uncertain fate of an orphan—but we were little girls who didn’t understand things like compound interest or the insidious trap of her penalties. Just as Fawn didn’t truly understand the contract she’d signed with Gorst.
“And thanks to us,” Nik says, reaching for the gauze, “you’re going to be short again.”
“Worth it,” I whisper.
Nik squeezes her eyes shut. “This world is so screwed up.” There’s no way Fawn can hear us unless she’s listening at the door, but Nik lowers her voice anyway. “I have a friend who could give you work.”
I frown. “What kind of work?” There’s none that can earn me the kind of money I need. None except— “I might as well work for Creighton Gorst if I’m going to do that.”
“Creighton would take half your earnings.” Nik wraps my hand and gives me a sad smile. “There are fae who pay a premium for the company of a beautiful human and more if you’ll bind yourself to them. Far more than Creighton can offer.”
“Faeries?” I shake my head. I’d sooner get involved with Creighton’s handsy clients than give myself over to a faerie. My people used to believe the faeries were our guardians. Before they split the sky and opened the portals, the fae visited at twilight in their spirit forms—just a shadow or an outline in the trees that looked like something living.
My people called them angels. They’d kneel and pray for the angels to stay close, to protect them, to watch over their sick children. But when the portals opened and the angels were finally here, they didn’t protect us at all.
Because the fae aren’t angels. They’re demons, and they came to exploit us, to steal babies and use humans as their slaves and their breeding stock. They tricked thousands into signing over their lives to fight in their wars. Only when the Magical Seven of Elora, the seven most powerful mages from this world, came together did we guard the portals against them. Now they can take a human life only if it’s fairly purchased or freely given—a magical safeguard that the clever faeries have created a hundred workarounds for. In practice, this protects only the rich and powerful.
“Better than nothing,” say so many who support the Seven. “It’s a start.” Or worse, “If people don’t want to be sold to the fae, they shouldn’t take on so much debt.”
“Why would they pay when they can just glamour women into giving them whatever they want?” I ask Nik.
“Keep your voice down!” She cranes her neck to check that the door behind her is still closed. “Not everything you hear about them is true. And my friend can—”
“It’s out of the question. I’ll find another way.” If I know anything, it’s that I’ll never trust the fae.
“I’m worried about you,” Nik says. “In this world, the only power we have is in our autonomy. Don’t let anyone back you into a corner. Don’t let your desperation make decisions for you.”
Like it did for Fawn. “I won’t,” I promise, but it feels hollow, as if my voice already knows it’s a lie. I’m working all the time and stealing as much as I can get away with, but I can’t keep up.
Even if I were okay with selling my body—and I’m not—I don’t want anything to do with the fae. I don’t care how much money they offer. There are more important things in life than money. Even more important things than freedom—like taking care of your two little girls and not abandoning them so you can run off with your faerie lover.