City of Fae

This Victorian terrace was my third stop. The first address had been vacant, the second hadn’t, but the resident, a well-known politician, refused to open the door to me. So far, my run of bad luck was holding steady.

My foot brushed a folded newspaper on the step. I gave it a poke with my shoe and got a look at the headline: ACCIDENT CLAIMS FAE VICTIM. Below the fold, a smaller front-page story highlighted the rise in human-fae clashes. I scooped up the paper, but before I could read it, the doorknob rattled. The door swung open a few inches and snagged on its security chain. I caught a narrow glimpse of Charmaine, the BBC’s Sunday-morning talk-show host. Pale blue eyes darted all over me, around my face, chest, legs, and back to my eyes. Pert, china-doll lips twitched. She had skin like milk; pale and flawless. So used to seeing her smiling and animated on TV, I merely blinked at her for a few moments. “Hi, I’m Alina O’Connor …” I held out the newspaper. She hesitated, snatched it, and tensed. I rammed my foot inside the door just as she tried to slam it shut. My sweet smile turned sour. “Please, I just need to talk to someone who was at Sovereign’s party.”

Her gaze dropped to my foot and then snaked slowly up my body. By the time our gazes met again, her beautiful face wore a hostile frown. “Talk to someone else.” A delicate accent wove through her bubbling, bright voice. All fae had the same accent. Some worked harder than others to shake it in the same way some worked harder to blend in than others. Reign had lost his.

“Please …” Telling her I was a reporter wasn’t going to help. Time to bring out the big guns. “What do you know of the queen?”

Her eyes widened, not dissimilar to how Reign’s had at the mention of the queen. “What queen?”

“Really?” It sure looked like fear on her face.

“Why are you really here? I didn’t do anything. I didn’t even see what happened. I was dancing with Jeremy from Radio London. The idiot was so drunk he had no idea his shirt was inside out, can you believe that?” She opened the door a little wider and I got a glimpse of a fine silk dress draped over slight shoulders. “Do you know what he said to me? He tried to get me to touch him. Like it was a joke. I don’t need that kind of trouble. Why can’t they just … look, like the law says? There’s no harm in that. No, they’re all the same, just can’t help with the touching, consequences be damned. Well, it’s not my fault. I can’t help what I am. Can I?”

“No.” I replied, mind processing the rapid download of information.

“Maybe I should have touched him.” She shrugged a shoulder, tucked the newspaper under her arm, and leaned against the door frame, examining her manicured nails. “Then he’d know never to ask for it again. I might have. I like it, same as we all do, but I like it up here too. Like the sunlight; it feels like liquid warmth, y’know?”

No, not really, but she was talking and I wasn’t about to stop her. “Did Jeremy see what happened?”

She huffed through her nose. “If he did, he was too drunk to care. It doesn’t affect them, anyway. We’re the ones that …” She trailed off and I tried to look innocent and unassuming. “Who are you again?”

“Alina.” Little harmless me, see how nice and friendly I am.

She pinched her lips and twisted them, as though tasting something bitter. “Where did you hear about a queen?”

“Oh, ya know …around. So there is a queen? Where is she?”

“Are you with the police?”

“No. I … Look, I just need some help trying to figure a few things out. I need to know about the queen, and about the party. I know something happened two nights ago.”

“She died, yes. Horrible, really.”

“What?”

“It’s all over the news.”

When was the last time I watched TV or turned on the radio? Idiot. I’d been so caught up in my own drama, chasing after information on Reign, that I’d not even turned on the news. My heart beat faster. “Who died exactly?”

“Caroline.” Charmaine sighed. “Some of our ancient ones are prickly, but Caroline was different. Quiet. Always polite. Calm. I liked her. I mean, sure she could be a bitch …” Charmaine scrunched up her nose. “She and the other three always talked about rules and restraint. How we should stay under. How we’re different, don’t get comfortable here, like we have a choice.”

“Exactly,” I agreed, without knowing what I was agreeing to. Clearly Charmaine liked to talk, so I just needed to steer her back around to the topic at hand. “So, she died … Is that why the FA locked the party down?”

“They created the Authority. Caroline, Jonah, the other ancients.” Charmaine’s focus wavered and her pale-blue eyes sparked with color. “They’re saying it was an accident.” Charmaine held my stare, waiting for my reply.