Tithe (Modern Faerie Tales, #1)

by Holly Black

“Kaye,” she said. There was silence for a moment as she noticed the cold cloud of her breath rise up with the word. “I’m Roiben.” Faeries didn’t give their names easily, even part of their names, although she had no idea why. He was trying to show her that he trusted her, maybe trying to make up for the assumptions he had made about her. “Give me your hand.”

“My mistress bade me do so. I have little choice in my obedience.” Roiben tucked his long fingers into the pockets of the coat. He spoke matter-of-factly, as though he was bored by his own answers. “Right,” Kaye said. “So if she told you to jump off a bridge . . . ?” “Exactly.” There was no irony in his tone. “Shall I consider that your second question?”

“Kiss my ass, Rath Roiben Rye.” He grabbed her by the arm before she even saw him move. She raised her hand to ward off the coming blow. He threw her forward. She shrieked. Her hand and knee connected hard with the stone floor. She looked up, half expecting to see the gleam of a sword, but instead he pulled her jeans hard at the waistband and pressed his mouth against the exposed swell of her hip.

Roiben stood over her. He spoke tonelessly. “That is the nature of servitude, Kaye. It is literal-minded and not at all clever. Be careful with your epithets.”

“Ask her,” Roiben said, indicating Kaye with his chin. “Now she knows exactly who I am.” He turned and walked out of the diner.

“There was no way I could have known what you were going to offer me. I just wanted to piss you off in the diner . . . and . . . I knew faeries don’t like to give out their real names.” “One day, someone is going to cut that clever tongue of yours right out of your head,” he said.

“Um . . .” Kaye stepped back, a little unsteadily. “Why does that belong to me?” “That was the kiss I stole from you when you were enchanted,” he said patiently. “Oh . . . well, what if I didn’t want it?” “You don’t?” “No,” she said, letting a grin spread across her face, hoping her mother would take her time on the drive over. “I’d like you to take it back again, please.” “I am your servant,” the King of the Unseelie Court said, his lips a moment from her own. “Consider it done.”