City of Fae

“Nothing?”


He slid a surreptitious glance my way, eager to tell me, but perhaps protocol prevented him from spilling trade secrets to the reporter desperate for a story. “Who am I going to tell? No immediate family? Lost my job?”

His smile hiked to one side. “Nice try.” Facing ahead, he turned the key and started the car. “I’ll take you home. That is where you were going, right?”

“I was going to cold-call all the other names on the guest list …” I fluttered my lashes, but his unimpressed expression told me he wasn’t buying it. “Home it is.”





Chapter Eight


I climbed from Andrews’s car, thanked him, fumbled with my keys, unlocked the communal door to my apartment building and froze. The sensation of being watched skittered down my spine. Andrews’s car rumbled around the corner at the bottom of the street. For a lunch hour, there should have been more people around, shouldn’t there? My hand itched. Taking a breath, I turned, expecting to see someone behind me, but the street was empty. Okay … The spider incident had obviously rattled my nerves.

I turned the key in the lock, stepped inside, strode to the stairs and paused, foot on the first step. I knew without looking who’d slipped in through the door, and that thought scared me more than his stealthy entry. His soft breaths, the gentle rustle of clothing, and I almost imagined I could hear the steady beat of his heart. But that was impossible.

“Reign …”

“Alina.”

I gripped the cool bannister and turned my head. He stood between me and the door, hand in his pocket, eyebrow arched, scandalous smile on his lips. Considering how he’d abandoned me on the sidewalk, he had no right to look so overtly sexy. My human hormones and instincts battled between tasting the forbidden and running for the hills. His gaze dropped to the Fae Survival Pack in my hand. I shook my head and began to climb the stairs.

“Did you have a nice chat with the detective?” he asked, footfalls soft on the stairs behind me.

“Yes, thank you.”

“He thinks I’ve bespelled you?”

“Yes.”

“Do you feel anything for me?”

“You mean besides the overwhelming desire to slap you? No, not so much.”

“Then you’re not bespelled. You don’t need a propaganda pack to tell you that.”

“What do you want Reign? You’re obviously following me, which is taking creepy to a whole new level.”

“I have better things to do than trail you around London. Mostly I have issues with people following me.”

I noticed he hadn’t actually answered, but I let it slide, for now. “Like the Fae Authority?” I stopped on the landing of the stairs. He stood a few steps down, looking innocent with his wide, beguiling eyes. Did he deliberately turn that look on and off? Like the rest of him, it was damned distracting. “Did you know a fae was killed at your after-party?”

The sweetness and light dashed from his face, chased by shadows. He reached for the railing and gripped it tight enough to whiten his knuckles. “You have to let this go.”

“No, I really don’t. You implied I’m involved. What was it … ?” Clearing my throat, I dropped my voice and tried on my best sexy-fae timbre: ‘This isn’t my story, Alina …’ What does that mean?”

He screwed up his nose. “I most definitely don’t sound like that.”

“Who’s the queen? Why is she being kept a secret?” With a look of frustration on his face, he climbed the few steps between us and reached for me, but I shook him off. “Don’t touch me, Reign. I mean it. So help me God, I’ll hit you with this pack.” I waved the pack in a threatening manner; not an easy thing to do.

He choked off a laugh. Lifting his hands in surrender he stepped down a step. “Okay.”

“It’s not even remotely funny.”

He cleared his throat and coughed into his hand. “No, not funny. You’re quite formidable when brandishing paperwork.”

Narrowing my eyes, I tried to exude pissed-off vibes, but his smile undermined my attempts. I lowered the file. “Just tell me the truth.”

“If it was that easy, I would.”

More vagueness. Evasiveness must have been another of his so-called talents. “I’m not letting this go. You and Andrews can warn me off all you like, but it only makes me more determined.”

He shifted on the spot, drawing in a deep breath. A frown touched his face as he dropped his gaze. “Why are you doing this?”

“Doing what exactly? My job?”

“You were fired.”

“That’s temporary,” I said, flustered.