Tithed to the Fae: Fae Mates - Book 1 Read online

  Tithed to the Fae

  Fae Mates - Book 1

  Zoe Chant

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Epilogue

  Also by Zoe Chant

  Chapter 1

  “Fancy cocktails,” Daisy said, her voice dripping with temptation. “Cheesy music. Loads of hot, single guys.”

  Tamsin didn’t pause in scrubbing out the last traces of dog pee off the floor. “You realize you’re describing my worst nightmare, right?”

  Daisy’s exasperated sigh crackled from Tamsin’s phone. “Come on, Tamsin. You have to go with me. No one else will. Cathy can’t get a babysitter, and Jack said she’d rather drink boiling motor oil than go to a speed dating event.”

  Privately, Tamsin thought that Jack had the right idea. “Tell you what. How about if I babysit for Cathy? That way you two can go together.”

  “But I want you to come too. You never go out anymore, Tamsin. You’re forty, not dead. There’s a difference between enjoying a comfortable routine and getting stuck in a rut. How are you ever going to meet someone if you never go anywhere new?”

  “I don’t want to meet someone.” Tamsin cocked her head, trapping her phone between shoulder and ear to free up both hands so that she could bag up the soiled paper towels. “I don’t need to meet someone. There’s a new guy in my life, actually.”

  She winced as Daisy’s squeal lanced through her skull like a dentist’s drill. “Tamsin! Why didn’t you say so? Ohmigod, I’m so happy for you! When do we get to meet him? What’s he like? Tell me everything!”

  “Well, he’s kinda shy, so I’m going to have to take it slow about introducing him to the gang. But he’s very sweet once he’s warmed up to people. And he’s totally gorgeous. Big strong shoulders. Soulful blue eyes. Enjoys snuggling on the sofa and long country walks.”

  There was a moment of silence from the other end of the line.

  Daisy’s sigh gusted out of the phone. “We’re talking about a dog, aren’t we.”

  Tamsin kneeled to scratch behind the ears of her newest arrival. “There you go, buddy. All cleaned up now. Don’t feel bad. A few accidents are to be expected, when you’re in a strange new place. You’re still a good boy.”

  The husky rolled over, his mournful eyes begging for a belly rub. Tamsin dug her fingers into his thick fur, now silky-smooth and clean after his bath. It had taken her hours to comb all the tangles out. He’d been more hairball than husky.

  “Don’t suppose you know anyone who’s lost a husky?” she said into the phone. Daisy knew everyone—although that wasn’t too difficult a feat, given that sheep outnumbered people ten to one in their small English village. “Betty brought him into the shelter this afternoon, but he’s clearly been lost for some time. He must have had a home once, though, because he’s got beautiful manners. And he looks like a champion show dog.”

  “Afraid not. I can ask around, though. He certainly sounds distinctive.”

  “He really is lovely. If Angus wouldn’t pitch a fit, I’d be tempted to bring him home myself.”

  Daisy’s voice lilted back into wheedling, sing-song tones. “Aaaand, speaking of bringing guys home…how about that speed dating event?”

  “I’m pretty sure Angus would pitch an even bigger fit if I brought a man home.”

  “Tamsin, you cannot let your love life be dictated by your dog.”

  “Why not? He has excellent taste. Remember how he hated Jack’s ex on sight?”

  “Point,” Daisy conceded. “I know! Let’s take Angus with us! We’ll find a whole load of hot guys, and Angus can sniff their butts until he finds someone he deems worthy of you. Like an asshole detector. Literally.”

  Tamsin snorted with laughter at the mental image. “Tempting as that thought is, I’m still not going. Give up, Daisy. I don’t need a man.”

  “I know, I know, we are all strong independent women with full rich lives.” Daisy’s tone turned wistful. “But that doesn’t mean we can’t want a man.”

  Tamsin didn’t feel the same need herself, but that didn’t mean she didn’t sympathize. “You’ll find the right guy eventually, Daisy. I wish I could help. But the shelter doesn’t take in lost dudes in need of forever homes. Don’t suppose I could persuade you to adopt a very loving dog instead?”

  “Remember the pet rock I had as a kid? The one that ran away?”

  “You lost that rock.”

  “It fled to find a better life. Tamsin, I can’t even keep a spider plant alive. Even actual spiders shun my house for fear of my aura of chaos and doom. You seriously want to set me up with a dog?”

  Tamsin had to concede that Daisy had a point. Her friend had many wonderful qualities, but ‘responsible’ wasn’t one of them.

  “Tamsin!” a voice called from outside the kennel block. “You still here?”

  “Come in! It’s not locked!” Tamsin called out. She switched back to the phone. “Daisy, I’ve got to go. Tell Cathy I’ll babysit for her so she can go speed dating with you, okay?”

  She dropped her phone back into her pocket as a tall, uniformed form entered the kennel block. Immediately, every single dog started whining and yelping—not in fear or anger, but sheer overexcited delight. Even the exhausted husky lifted his head, his plumed tail thumping hard against the floor.

  “Hi, Betty,” Tamsin greeted the police officer. She grabbed hold of the husky’s neck as he tried to bolt past her, his yearning eyes fixed on Betty. “Gotta say, I wish I could bottle whatever it is you’ve got.”

  Betty cast a resigned look around at the canine chaos caused by her arrival. “I’m sorry about this. If I could stop it, I would.”

  Tamsin managed to wrestle the husky back into his kennel. She locked the door and straightened. “What’s up? Don’t tell me you’ve got another stray for me already.”

  “Nope. I was just passing by and saw your lights were still on, so I thought I’d come see how this big guy was doing.” Betty leaned down to scratch the husky behind the ears through the bars. His eyes closed in ecstasy, his tail going so fast it was a blur. “He’s looking a lot better already. Nobody’s reported a dog of his description going missing, by the way.”

  “I’ve got Daisy on the case too, but I don’t think he’s a local stray.” Tamsin sighed. “He’s got a half-healed scab on the back of his neck. It looks like someone cut out an ID microchip. I think he was stolen.”

  Betty grimaced. “That kind of thing often doesn’t get properly logged into the national databases. Especially if the thieves stage it to look like the dog escaped and ran away on its own. It might be hard to track down his original owner.”

  “I was afraid you’d say that.” Tamsin patted the husky. “If only you could tell us where to find your people, big guy.”

  “I’m
afraid that even I can’t talk to dogs,” Betty said, the corner of her mouth quirking. “I’ll have to rely on less thrilling methods to track them down. I’ll put out some calls in the morning. You okay to keep him here for a while, without putting him up for adoption?”

  “Sure. To be honest, given his size and breed, it would be tough to find him a forever home, gorgeous as he is. Most people come in looking for cute puppies or low-maintenance little breeds. Not an animal that needs four hours of vigorous exercise a day just to stop it from destroying your house.” Tamsin cast the fit, energetic police woman a thoughtful look. “Don’t suppose you’re in the market for a dog?”

  “Sorry. Wouldn’t really fit with our lifestyle. Although that wouldn’t dissuade Hope. Please don’t suggest it to her. The slightest excuse, and she’ll be down here adopting your entire stock in a hot second.”

  Tamsin laughed. “Okay, okay, I promise, no guilt trips. I guess you guys really don’t have time, what with your jobs.”

  Although it was a shame. Betty might look tough and intimidating, but Tamsin had soon learned that the towering police officer had a heart of solid marshmallow. And Betty’s wife Hope—a pediatrician at the local hospital—was one of the kindest, sunniest people Tamsin had ever met. The couple had only moved to the village a few months ago, but they’d quickly become embedded in Tamsin’s small circle of friends.

  Betty gave the husky one last pat. “Listen, I’m off to pick up Hope after her shift at the hospital. Your cottage isn’t too far off my route. Can I give you a lift home?”

  “That’s very sweet of you, but I’ve still got a few things to finish off here. Thank you for the offer, though.”

  Betty gave her a strange, considering look. “You cycling home tonight?”

  “As always. Good for the environment, good for my thighs. Win-win all round.”

  “Stay on the main roads, okay? Don’t take the shortcut past the hill.”

  Tamsin glanced at her in surprise. “Why?”

  “It’s just…safer.”

  Tamsin shook her head. “I don’t see how. There are fewer cars on the shortcut, and it’s not like the main road has streetlights. And anyway, it’s a full moon tonight.”

  “Yes,” Betty said, an odd tightness to her voice. “Look, humor me, okay? Stick to the streets tonight.”

  “You know this is Little Ashton-by-the-Hill, not a big city, right? I don’t know what it was like on your old beat in Brighton, but around here, we don’t exactly get muggers lurking in the sheep fields. The most dangerous thing I’m likely to run into on the way home is a badger.”

  “You’d be surprised at what’s lurking in the fields,” Betty said darkly. “Especially around Fair Hill. Just be careful. And go straight home. See you at book club next Tuesday?”

  “Wouldn’t miss it.” Tamsin gave Betty a bright smile, though she was still wondering at her weird overprotectiveness. “Tell Hope I said hi, and I’ll bring her that yarn I promised.”

  With a last nod, Betty left. For such a large, muscular woman, she could move with absolute silence. As the door shut behind her, the husky’s ears drooped. He let out a sad, puppyish whine.

  “Oh no, don’t do that. You’ll set them all off.” Already whimpers were emanating from all the pens, every dog staring after Betty with clear longing. Tamsin reached for a box of treats. “Hey guys and gals! Who wants a bedtime snack?”

  She left the rescued dogs contentedly crunching their biscuits, broken hearts forgotten. The night breeze was cool and crisp on her face as she stepped outside; winter a whispered promise under the scent of fallen leaves. Shivering, she locked up the kennel block, then jogged to the rescue shelter’s office.

  “Hi baby,” she greeted Angus as she entered. “Just got to take care of a last few things, then we can be on our way home.”

  The Pomeranian, curled up in his customary spot on her office chair, shot her a look that very clearly conveyed that this was unacceptable and he wished to speak to her manager. Tamsin knew better than to try to turf him out of her seat. She hunched over the desk, filling in the daily log on her computer.

  Tamsin was just shutting the system down when the desk phone rang, making her jump. She picked up the handset, wondering who could be calling at this late hour. “Ashton Animal Shelter, how can I assist you?”

  “Tamsin Farley?”

  A prickle of unease ran over her skin. She glanced at the display on the phone, but the screen said Caller ID unknown. “Yes, speaking. How can I help?”

  “There’s a dog on Fair Hill. Up by the stones.” The voice was no more than a hoarse, raspy whisper, but Tamsin thought it was a man. “It’s hurt. Hurt bad. It needs help right away.”

  “Don’t worry, sir, that’s what we’re here to—hello?” The dull tone of a disconnected call buzzed in her ear. Tamsin held the handset away from her face, frowning at it. “Huh. That’s weird.”

  For a moment, she contemplated calling the police. But Betty was off duty, and the other officers weren’t nearly as sympathetic to the ‘mad dog lady’, as she’d overheard a couple of them calling her once. Annoying the cops with what was probably a prank call wouldn’t improve her reputation.

  “Let’s go check it out, Angus,” she decided. “If there really is a hurt dog up on the hill, we can’t leave it frightened and in pain while we sit around here.”

  Still, as she gathered up her coat and dog-catching gear, she couldn’t help remembering Betty’s strange warning. Betty had warned her not to take the shortcut home…

  The shortcut that ran right past Fair Hill.

  * * *

  Tamsin whistled, swinging the beam of her flashlight around. “Here, fella! Here boy! Anyone out there?”

  She held her breath, listening. The night breeze carried the faint thrum of traffic on the distant main road, and the occasional bleat of a sheep. A tawny owl hooted, once, high and lonely. At her feet, Angus let out a low growl.

  “You smell anything?” she asked him.

  The Pomeranian growled again, staring up at the dark bulk of Fair Hill rising above them. Angus wasn’t a search and rescue dog—all her efforts to train him had been met with a withering stare—but he was good at finding animals who needed help. When he felt like it.

  Now, something up the hill definitely had his attention. She listened again, and this time caught the faintest hint of a canine whimper. It seemed to be coming from the very top of the hill, up near the standing stones. She played the beam of her flashlight over the grassy slope, searching, but the light wasn’t powerful enough to reach far.

  “You’d better wait here, Angus.” She looped his lead over the nearest fencepost, next to her bicycle. “Don’t want you scaring off the poor creature.”

  Angus growled again, his eyes still fixed on the hill. His orange fur stood on end, making him look like a furious pompom with feet. As she started off, he lunged forward, sinking his tiny teeth into her boot heel as though to drag her back.

  “Hey, little guy, there’s no need for that. I won’t be long.” With effort, she managed to wrench her foot free from his determined jaws. She gave him a last reassuring pat. “You know I always come back.”

  Chalky soil slid under her heels as she picked her way up the slope. Fair Hill wasn’t that high, but it was steep, and there weren’t any trails to follow. People didn’t come here often, thanks to all the Protected Historic Site: No Public Access warning signs posted around the place. Sheep avoided Fair Hill too, and even rabbits seemed to shun it.

  Perhaps the animals could sense that the hill wasn’t natural. The perfectly round, smooth shape showed that the mound had been raised by human hands.

  Or maybe not. Tamsin smiled as she remembered the local legend that she’d learned at her grandma’s knee. According to folklore, this was a faerie hill; a gateway between the ordinary world and fairyland. That was why it was called Fair Hill—after the Fair Folk. The faeries, or the fae.

  Hope I’m not chasing a fae hound, she thought wh
imsically, thinking of the magical green-furred creatures that had featured in some of her grandma’s stories. Or even worse, a hellhound. I think they’d be pretty hard to re-home.

  The whimpering sounds grew louder as she ascended, drawing her on. She quickened her pace, scrabbling up to the top of the hill. She stopped for a moment, getting her breath back, before whistling again. “Here boy! It’s okay, I’m here to help.”

  The whimpers didn’t change. It was definitely close now. The soft, pitiful cries tugged at her heart.

  Must be hiding behind one of the stones.

  Everyone in Little Ashton-by-the-Hill knew the stones. There were five of them, old and gray and worn, crowning the hill in a rough, uneven circle. They were hardly the towering monoliths of Stonehenge; just lumpy, waist-high blocks. Yet somehow they had a presence beyond their unimpressive size. They were always cold, even on the hottest day of summer. And the shadows they cast…

  The darkness between the stones swallowed her little beam of light, revealing nothing. The dog whined again.

  Tamsin swallowed, moistening dry lips.

  They’re just rocks, she told herself firmly. There’s nothing to fear.

  “It’s okay,” she said, as much to herself as to the dog. She crouched to make herself less threatening, edging toward the stones. “It’s okay. Everything’s going to be all—huh?”

  There was no dog shivering in fear by the stone. Just a small black cube, a few inches on each side.

  Puzzled, Tamsin picked it up. The cube vibrated in her palm, that whimpering sound playing once more.