To Spark a Fae War (The Fair Isle Trilogy #3) - Tessonja Odette Page 0,2

during my training to become a surgeon. Both men are now dead.

Good riddance.

“You like a fight, do you?” Madame Rose’s lips quirk at the corners.

“A little,” I say. “I prefer if you have someone who has remained a bit…untamed, shall we say? Feisty.”

She assesses me from head to toe. “Now, you are a surprise, aren’t you? Who did you say referred you to me?”

I lean in, my voice a whisper. “I dare not say his name, but he is a well-respected councilman. You do know who I speak of, do you not?”

“Ah,” she says. “Yes, I know exactly who you mean. He is my establishment’s prime patron. One would even call him a partner in my business. Although, I’m hurt he’s never mentioned you to me before.”

Is that suspicion I’m sensing? I hardly falter, continuing my feigned conspiratorial air. “Like I said, my father and I are on business from out of town. Father’s acquaintance with the councilman is new, but I must say it has grown quite intimate. This won’t be the last you see of me here.” I end that with a wink.

“I should think that’s the case, for I’m confident once you sate your appetite, you will hardly be able to keep away.”

“That’s what I’m hoping for.”

Madame Rose rises to her feet. “I think I have the perfect specimen in mind. Give me just a moment and I will prepare her for you.”

“One more thing,” I say, standing before she can turn away. “Father was under the impression his colleague would be here tonight. He has an urgent message he’d like me to pass on to him. Could you arrange a meeting for us?” I have no grounds to assume anything I’ve just said. No intel that Mr. Duveau is here, only the barest hope.

She cocks her head slightly to the side. “The man you speak of is not here tonight, so I apologize that I will not be able to satisfy that request.”

Damn. Still, there’s one more chance. I lock my eyes on hers, pulling her attention to me, drawing that imaginary bird into the cage of my hands—

Nothing. There’s no give in her attention, no sway in pulling her gaze. I adjust my hat as an excuse to break eye contact and glance at her wrist. There I see what I should have sought before: a hint of red beads around her wrist, barely visible beneath the lace cuff of her gown. Of course she wears rowan. In a brothel full of enslaved fae, it would be idiotic not to. Still, I had to try.

Try and fail.

Even though I went into this knowing the chance of finding Mr. Duveau was slim, I can’t stop the crushing disappointment. However, my mission is far from over.

I plaster a false smile over my lips. “Never mind that. I’ll seek him out myself.”

That’s a promise.

2

Madame Rose leaves me in the foyer for several minutes. When she returns, she guides me into one of the halls that branch off from there. The carpets are plush and red, the walls papered with red and gold designs of roses and vines. Before I went to Faerwyvae, I might have considered the decor luxurious. Compared to fae luxury, however, this place is hideous.

We walk past several doors as we make our way down the hall, and I try not to blush at the sounds of pleasure that emanate from behind them. I constantly summon my inner fire to keep my nerves at bay until Madame Rose pauses outside a door at the end of the hall. “Your merchandise awaits.”

I give her my thanks and enter the room. Inside is a modest accommodation with more gaudy crimson satin and papered walls. A vanity and wash basin peek from behind a dressing screen next to a narrow wardrobe. The only other furnishings in the room are a high-backed chair and a small bed. Upon the latter rests a petite female with lavender hair and pale green skin.

“Enjoy,” whispers Madame Rose before she closes the door.

“Welcome,” the fae female says without warmth. She lies on her side wearing a sheer nightgown, head propped up by one arm while the other hand is draped over her hip. Her pose would be seductive if it weren’t for the scowl etched over her face that no false smile could hide.

With slow steps, I approach the bed. She tenses as I near her, violet eyes trained on me, burning me with their hate. “Finally, I can take this off,” I