Page 47 of The Stones for It
“How can we be of service, pretty girlie?” another bouda called, leaning out from where he sat by the fire. He elbowed the scrawny male beside him on the log, dropping his voice. “Or, more like, how canyouserviceus?”
The pair sniggered.
“Quiet!” their apparent leader shot a snarl their way.
“C-can I have some food, please?” I stuttered before they could start bickering. I needed every fae’s attention, not just a handful of flea-ridden mutts. “I’mstarving.”
“Perhaps.” The head brute smacked his thin lips. “But what will you give me in return for such generosity?”
I shuffled towards the campfire, weaving around the branches of a fallen tree and sparing a quick glance at the wary, chestnut-hued jackalope serving food. Heat licked my face before I was even a few steps from the haphazard circle of logs acting as seats.
“It wasmykill,” another bouda hissed, jumping to his feet by the fire. “If she wants to trade for the food, it should be with me.” He pounded his chest and notched his chin at their scarred leader.
“I supervised the vermin cooking it,” a smaller bouda argued, chewing loudly between words and brandishing his leaf of juicy cuts. “I should at least get a turn.”
“You shouldn’t be playing with the humans,” the chef huffed, tugging at the metal on her wrists. “We’ll all be punished if the royals turn up to find you idiots shirking your duties.”
“Enough!” the big male snapped, cutting off the others as more opened their mouths to chime in.
These cruel bastards were the type of fae I’d trained to defend my kind against.
Disgust curdled my stomach, but I kept a wide-eyed innocence fixed to my face.
If I’d known I was such a good actress, I’d have auditioned for movies after I was booted from the navy, instead of traipsing around my hometown, getting rejected for minimum wage jobs.
More boudas and the two jackalope males wandered closer, and I smiled internally.
Maybe my plan would actually work.
The leader stomped close enough to reach out and touch. I fought not to tense up, giving him a pleading look as I lingered by the blaze.
He seemed to remember that I might have some kind of opinion here and turned a toothy smile on me. The predatory edge to it prickled the hairs on my nape.
“Shua’than, I know things are probably confusing and scary.” He hummed in false sympathy and held out a clawed hand for me to take. “Come, sit by the fire. I’ll feed you and keep you safe.”
Vrath melted from the treeline at the far edge, swift and silent as he closed in on Neiron. I avoided looking directly at them, despite the urge nagging at me.
Time to up the distraction.
I opened my mouth and screamed.
As loud as I possibly could.
The fae winced, their keen hearing taking the sound like a blow to the eardrums.
Drawing a deep breath, I pointed frantically to the trees beside me, the opposite direction from my mates. “Monster!” I screeched. “Oh my god, help!”
The boudas dropped their hands from their furred ears and splayed their claws instead, hurrying closer to get a look at what had set off the terrified human.
“It’s right there! Do something,” I wailed, backing away from the imaginary danger. “Please!”
I passed several boudas as I slipped back towards Vrath and Neiron.
The chef watched me with a knowing smirk, one of her tall ears swivelling towards my mates, but said nothing.
In the middle of the clearing, Vrath sliced through the final rope holding Neiron’s chest to the stake. The kitsune slumped straight into his arms, but his eyes flickered over me. A tired smile stretched his lips.
Only about a hundred paces separated us.
