Page 8 of Crown of the Fae King

He wandered around the kids and other customers, smiling at them, nodding, then moving on around the room. I took shallow breaths and swallowed hard, trying to get my stomach back where it was supposed to be. The customers scowled, wondering why I wasn’t taking care of them.

Rena grabbed both the coffee and the decaf and started around the room.

I need waters…

Behind the counter, Janice was already filling a tray with glasses.

The Scot was back to me again. “Ye see, Lennon? With or without ye, life will go on here.” He prodded me to stand. “Fetch yer coat and say yer farewells. We must be off.”

I’d wondered if this day would come, if someone with actual magic might come along who might save me from my secret curse. If I refused to go with the guy, would I be blowing my only shot?

In the fifteen years since Grandma died, there’d been no one who might really know what to do about it. If this one got away, would it be another fifteen years for another to come along?

He’d said to fetch my coat. Like a zombie, I started to obey, until I caught sight of that packet again. My stomach dropped and I exhaled all that hope. It looked like I would have to wait another fifteen years after all.

I faced him and shook my head. “I can’t go. I need this job to—”

“Pay yer bills? I’ve paid yer bills, Lennon. And ye should know yer employer plans to replace ye by mornin’.”

I shook my head harder, refusing to believe him. “You don’t know anything about my bills, or my obligations—”

“Ye mean Charlotte?”

Panic filled my chest and froze there like deep tire treads in the cold mud. Did everyone in town know my business? Had this guy been following me too?

“Easy, lass. Charlotte is well…and will continue to be well. Andy Weaver’s family home is not the only structure he means to burn tonight. He kens about yer Charlotte, ye see…”

I imagined him sawing at my precious tightrope with a knife. “I have to go—”

“She’s not there. I’ve taken yer forsaken friend somewhere warm and safe where she will be fed and cared for the rest of her days.”

Pete growled my name. I ignored him. “I don’t believe you.”

The man smirked and held out his hand. “Then ye’ll want to come with me, Lennon Todd, to see for yerself.”

4

Hope Is A Mean Thing

The farewells at Twila’s café were anything but tearful. Rena whooped and hollered and ripped off her apron like she’d just won the lottery. Pete, of course, fired her on the spot and offered Lynette Weaver the position of head waitress.

I could see the wheels turning while the devious woman considered his offer. No doubt she was fantasizing about the look on Andy’s face when he realized he could never walk through those doors again.

When she accepted the job, I exchanged a look with Wickham, Apparently, she’d already forgotten his warning about her brother’s plans. Or maybe Andy threatened to burn her alive on a regular basis.

“Not yer problem,” Wickham said quietly, and held my coat open.

Rena came close to pat my cheeks. “Don’t you worry about the rest of us. Jericho will be leaving too. Plenty of places want him. He was just staying for us.”

Against Pete’s protests, I pushed my way back to the kitchen to give the big cook a hug he’d never forget. “I’m sorry you put up with all this just for us.”

“You’ll be okay, you think?”

We both looked out the pass-through at the stranger in black—the man I hoped was not an escapee from an asylum.

“I hope so. He still hasn’t said why he wants me. But I have my suspicions.”

“And if your suspicions are correct? Will you be all right?”

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