Page 77 of How To Tame A Trickster Fae

“The inn? It’s hard for an old man, to be honest with you.” His white eyebrow, thick as a cave caterpillar, arches up as he studies me. The light plays across his craggy face. “You know, I’ve been meaning to find someone to take the old girl over.”

It takes me a beat to realize the inn is the old girl. I hold my breath, waiting.

Boner stands up and barks once, then makes a slow, sad limp up the stairs.

Hash and I watch his progress, the music of the crickets providing a certain ambiance to the old dog’s plop back down on the porch.

His tongue hangs out further than seems physically possible.

“Always makes me laugh to see Boner go limp like that,” Hash says.

I squint at him. There’s no way he doesn’t know exactly what he’s named his dog after.

“You interested?” he asks.

“In a limp Boner?”

He stares at me. I stare at him.

Hash bursts into laughter. “What the hell are you talking about? You fae crack me up, you know that, Purple?”

I grin at him, amused by his amusement.

“Alright, I tell you what. You drive a hard bargain, I know all about that with you Unseelie fellas, but I’ll settle on it. You take care of my dog, and you take care of the old girl here, and I’ll consider our debt even.”

“What—” I half-stand, the rocking chair wobbling beneath me.

Boner opens one eye, his pink and black speckled tongue still lolling out.

“Don’t say you never drove a hard bargain with a Seelie. I think my time here is up, though. I think it’s time for a change in Wild Oak Woods.”

There’s no flash of light, no cloud of smoke, just a faint glimmer around Hash Beauchamp as the Seelie glamour falls away.

Hash reaches out, gripping my wrist with young, smooth-skinned fingers.

“She’s yours, Caelan of the Underhill. The deed is in your room. Sign it, and the land and inn are yours, too. She’s full of secrets, as is Wild Oak Woods. It’s time for me to find a new adventure. Take care of Boner.” The Seelie fae winks at me once, his laughter bell-like, so beautiful it sends a pang through my chest, and then he disappears.

Boner whines, then stretches long, clearly beyond caring that Hash Beauchamp was a Seelie fae this whole time, and beyond caring that I’m now supposed to take care of him.

“How about that,” I say to myself quietly, sitting back in the rocking chair.

There will be strings attached to this place, there’s no doubt about that.

I’m sure there was some magic I didn’t notice tying me here as soon as I met that wily Hash. Distracted by Wren, and everything a mate could mean to me, I’ve certainly sealed my fate here at this ancient inn.

“Huh,” I say again, scratching my jawline. The chair creaks as I rock.

It means something, I’m sure of it.

An Unseelie trickster fae hoodwinked by a golden fae from the Seelie Court.

This inn, old and in disrepair, practically falling down around me.

It means something. I just don’t know what.

Boner lets out a massive fart, and I wrinkle my nose.

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

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