King of Light: Rosethorn Valley Fae #2 by Tasha Black

Author:Tasha Black [Black, Tasha]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: 13th Story Press
Published: 2020-06-17T18:30:00+00:00

16

Tristan

Tristan tried to relax when they got in the car.

Tabitha entered the address they had been given into her device while he focused on taking deep breaths.

He had done his best to remain calm while they were in that building, but now he was beginning to lose his resolve.

The man in that coffin had been decidedly less than a century old - a baby in Tristan’s eyes.

And he was dead. He would never walk again or dance or sing or eat happy meals.

“They’re like any other animal,” he remembered his nanny telling him as they watched from the trees while mortals picnicked in the woods.

“But they look just like us,” he’d protested.

“They only live a hundred years, if they’re lucky,” Nanny had chuckled. “They’re a fine imitation of the folk, but they haven’t our wisdom and immortality. Trust your old Nanny and keep away. Consorting with mortals is a recipe for heartbreak on both sides.”

And he had kept away.

Until now.

Now, he had formed a deep bond with this mortal woman, and he would see her in her own coffin in the blink of an eye.

“Are you okay?” she asked him, those deep blue eyes filled with concern.

But he couldn’t say what was in his heart. It would frighten her, or, at the very least, offend her.

“I’m fine,” he said. “Let’s go.”

She frowned but started the car. They pulled out of the gravel lot and headed farther up the narrow road they’d come in on, past clusters of small houses near the road, and signs with hand painted house numbers pointing toward long dirt driveways.

At last, Tabitha pulled the carriage down a dirt path that led to a series of ramshackle cottages.

“This is the one, I think,” she said, parking in front of the most humble dwelling of all.

A corrugated metal roof hung over the faded teal paint of the wood shanty.

They approached the front door and knocked.

No answer.

“I’m going to peek in the window,” Tabitha suggested.

“Don’t bother,” Tristan told her, extending his hand toward the door handle. It would be easier if no one knew they were there. They could take what they needed and be gone from this place.

“Can I help you?” a woman’s voice boomed from right behind them.

Tabitha jumped and Tristan caught her by the elbow.

“We’re looking for Sandalwood Burke’s place,” Tabitha said breathlessly.

The woman eyed her with frank suspicion. She was older, with tanned skin that looked extra-wrinkly, and an orange T-shirt that said NOPE in large black letters across her ample bosom.

“Are you here to pay his back rent?” the woman asked.

“He, um, he had something that belonged to me,” Tabitha said.

“Join the club,” the woman laughed. “I thought I’d never get my table saw back. But the bastard dropped dead and here we are. Best thing he ever did as a tenant.”

“May I look through his things for my item?” Tabitha asked.

“Too late for that,” the landlady answered. “I took the rest of his miserable stuff to the pawn shop. Not that it was worth enough to pay what he owed me.

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