Asher Flambeau gave her wings a tentative flutter, but the air flowing through the rips and tears sent an icy chill to the very centre of her, and she gasped at the sudden pain. She crouched lower behind the wall, working her way into a hollow at the base. Funny, after all of the battles she’d fought in, the cross-kingdom wars she’d survived, the most dangerous part of her life had turned out to be a walk down a local road on the way home.

It was one thing to fight in battle after battle of inter-fae war…but another to be ambushed by lowly ghouls who saw a lone, war-weary fairy as an opportune target for their more nefarious persuasions. For a moment, she rested her head against the rough stones. Yep, ‘weary’ pretty much summed it up. Maybe if she went to sleep just now…in this very moment…she wouldn’t wake up.

She shrugged, irked at herself and her defeatist attitude, then stilled as hot pain lanced through her once more. Glancing over her shoulder, she tried not to see the tattered state her beautiful wings hung in. Their colours, once the source of her greatest pride, were a mere shadow of their former glory, and the gossamer thin network of translucent fibres looked beyond repair.

The three ghouls who’d attacked her and dragged her off the path hadn’t left the field after she fled. Instead, they roamed the large space, leaping over hay bales and crawling through the scraggy left-over stalks of dried grass, their pale faces and overly long limbs giving them the appearance of demented marionettes.

“Come out little fairy…”

“Here, fairy, fairy, fairy…”

“We only want to play.”

Her stomach roiled and ached at their sing-song requests as their whooping and calling filled the air and her ears. She crouched lower still, folding herself into a tight ball, although without the spread protection of her wings to shelter her, she felt naked.

“Are you broken, little bird?”

The soft male voice behind her sent a rush of adrenaline spiking through her, and she sprang to her feet before listing to her right.

“Steady there.”

Strong arms caught her before she landed back on the ground, but she pushed the mystery man away and scrambled back to the cover of the wall. “Don’t touch me.” Her dry words scratched against her hoarse throat, and her eyes watered with the effort. “No one touches me.”

“Broken indeed.” His eyes appraised her before he turned his gaze to the field where the ghouls still hadn’t given up their search, although their shrieks were quieter as they ran among the hay bales. “Do you wish me to solve that problem?”

She clutched her shredded skirt, drawing it tighter around her legs. “No one can solve it.” And how could she return home? Her mother would take to her bed, for the shame of it, Father would blame the army…and ultimately her for daring to cross him and volunteer for service, and her brothers would lead the search party to bring the ghouls to vigilante justice.

“I can, you know. Solve it. It would be no problem. In fact…” For just a moment, his eyes seemed to blaze a fierce red in the setting of the sun and she shivered. “It’s sort of what I do.”

“There is no problem.” Her stilted words were bare as she forced them through teeth clamped together to stop them chattering. “Thank you.” She added the last part as an after-thought, but inclined her head to try to make the most of the pleasantry. Perhaps her self-appointed saviour would leave her alone if she used her manners.

But the stranger held out his arm. “At least allow me to accompany you on your journey? I can ensure you don’t encounter any problems, then. After all, the sun is setting. Ghoul activity is sure to increase as the darkness grows.” Again, his eyes shone.

She watched him, not moving. Her suspicion of his intentions ebbed away, but she couldn’t bring herself to move towards him. Rather than approaching her, as she almost expected him to do, he dropped his arm when she didn’t take it.

“I can accompany you from a safe distance, perhaps?”

She nodded. Then watched as he took a step forward, along the dirt path. She followed behind him, half crouching to remain out of sight of the field.

He turned abruptly, and his long coat flared with his movement. “Please accept my apologies. I should have offered you this.” He shrugged the coat off and held it out to her then smiled crookedly. “It looks as though you might benefit from it more than I can.”

Ash began to shake her head then nodded instead. She took the coat and pushed her arms into the sleeves, the movement swirling a smoky scent around her. She inhaled deeply and brought the heat to rest deep inside her lungs. The residual warmth his body had left enveloped her even as the fabric tugged across the fresh grazes the ghouls had made on her thighs.

“I’m Lorn.”

She nodded and met his deep brown gaze. “Asher.” Then, as if her mouth controlled itself, “Ash. Most people call me Ash.”

“Nice. Fire fairy?”

She contained the roll of her eyes. “Blaze.” Only the best warriors in Summer Court achieved the rank of Blaze Fairy.

“Fierce, then. I like it.”

She didn’t need his approval, but to say so would have seemed rude. Instead, she pulled his coat more tightly around herself. She hadn’t realised how, without the protection of her wings, the cold had penetrated her skin. It was as if it’d seeped right through her flesh and into her bones. A shudder ran through her, and her teeth gave away her secret when they finally chattered, the sound loud in the silence between them.

“Come on, then, Blaze Fairy. You look pretty burnt out, this evening. Where are we going?”

“I was going…” But the words faltered. It didn’t matter where she’d been going.

He nodded. “I see. And where are you going now?”

Swiping away sudden tears, she shook her head.

Lorn blew out a sigh then offered her a small business card. It gleamed in the low light. “I might have a solution.”

She glanced down. “It’s blank.”

“Turn it over.”

She flipped the card and, fresh-looking, wet inked words filled the other side. “This is an advert for a housekeeper.” She held it back towards him.

“Yes, it is. I haven’t placed it yet.”

When he didn’t take his card from her, she read the words again, then laughed without humour. “It says the contract is for seven years.”

He chuckled, the warm sound relaxing her. Something about the rich, deep tone of his melted chocolate voice called to her, and energy hummed to life where she thought that last battle had destroyed everything inside her.

“That’s negotiable. As all things worth making a deal about are.”

“I’m a soldier. I haven’t got time to keep someone’s house for them.”

“How long will it take for your wings to heal?” His glance flicked over her shoulder, and she stiffened.

“I haven’t had time to make a proper assessment, yet.”

“The position would provide you with a safe place to stay and heal and an income while you do so.” He met her gaze square on. “Almost a perfect bargain, in fact, wouldn’t you say?”

She considered him for a moment. “I meet a stranger on the walk home, and he offers me a job. Excuse me if I’m suspicious of that ‘almost perfect bargain.’”

He met her words with an expansive shrug. “We can’t answer to the whims of fate. Sometimes, the things that weren’t there a moment before suddenly are, and sometimes things that were, are suddenly gone.” He looked once more into the field, and she followed his line of sight.

Sometime since she’d last checked, the ghouls had vanished. She breathed a small sigh of relief and straightened her still stooped posture. “Well, I’m not signing a contract.”

The crooked smile appeared on his lips once more. “But where is the fun of a bargain without one of those?”