City of Fae

While ignored, I skipped my gaze over the fae once more and settled it discretely on Shay. She spoke quickly and quietly to a young male fae beside her, hands fluttering gestures. She looked like the type of pinup fantasy who’d adorn desktop screen savers. Typically fae, it could have been her on the posters in kids’ bedrooms, her hairstyle women imitated in magazines, her brilliant tricolored eyes the contact lens companies mimicked. I slid my gaze away, not particularly enjoying that she reminded me how out of place I was. My gaze snagged on Reign, who was watching her. Warren prattled on, something about “unrest,” and Reign nodded, but he only had eyes for Shay. He’d never looked at me like that; appreciatively, with a trace of hunger. Where had that thought come from? I shoved it aside, silently alarmed by my own jealousy.

Shay ambled to the nearest couch and scooped up a remote, tuning the TV to the music channels. It didn’t take long for her to find one of Reign’s performances. Light throbbed around the arena in time with the seductive beat. Reign’s voice, an impossible combination of powerful bass and liquescent melody, filled the room. He owned the stage, owned the thousands in the crowd who jumped and writhed along with him. The camera cut to the human members of the band, drummer, guitarist, all enthralled in the magic of their own making.

A few of the fae in the room began to dance, others picked up the song, adding their luscious voices to the chorus.

Shay danced, her slim body twisting like a leaf in the wind. Silken hair cascaded over slim shoulders. She moved like liquid, and just like Reign’s voice, there was magic in her movement. She locked her salacious gaze on Reign and beckoned with a curl of her fingers.

TV Reign’s voice ebbed and flowed:

Hot live wire, strike a match, start a fire,

I’ll be your light, your love, burning bright

He leaned against the bar, soaking up the attention, tricolored eyes sparkling like the multicolored display on-stage. He gave Shay a small shake of his head, turning her down, but his eyes said he wanted her. The two of them, they’d look perfect together. Beautiful in their intimacy. The way he’d held her, his hand resting on her waist, pulling her into him, and how she’d responded, molding against him, in harmony. I knew, for a fact, I’d never been touched quite like that.

Swallowing, I turned away and forced myself to admire the tapestries once more. Reign’s voice from the TV wove around me, dove inside, and smoothed the battling jealousy and admiration. Of course the normal people of this world fell over themselves for the fae, for him. He had magic in his voice, in his presence, and drew people to him like a magnet draws metal. I’d never really paid much attention before, but in this place, with them, and listening to how Reign wove a spell with his voice, how they moved, the differences between us were obvious. And unsettling.

“It’s magic, sweet thing.” Shay stood beside me. Her ethereal beauty cutting to the heart of my inferiority complex. “Your young mind is susceptible, just like all those adoring fans. If he told them to drop to their knees and worship him, they would. You too. He won’t ever care for you. He’ll seduce, because that’s how he uses your kind, but he can’t care.” She placed a cool finger under my chin and shut my mouth. “Poor pliable puppy.”

I jerked my head free and wiped at my chin where the ghost of her touch still lingered. “Don’t touch me. And I’m not interested in Reign.”

She threw her fine head back and laughed. It was a cruel laugh, and yet so damn alluring, like the rest of her, cruelly beautiful. “The Trinity Law can’t and won’t protect you, puppy.” She sashayed back to Reign and said something that I couldn’t catch beneath the throbbing beat of music. Reign’s gaze flicked to me, and back to Shay. He bowed his head and spoke close against her cheek. She stilled, her fluidity suddenly hardening, and stalked out of the room, long white robes rippling behind her.

“Please someone turn Reign off,” Warren barked, drink in hand, lips pressed into a grim line. He rubbed at his forehead and winced. “Any louder and the queen herself will hear his caterwauling.”

Mention of the queen wiped the smile from Reign’s face. Someone turned the volume down, much to the disappointment of the dancing fae. As no one was paying any attention to me, I wandered while they returned to their relaxed positions, and they continued to ignore me as I drifted between them. Books lay strewn about. I slipped a glance at a few pages but had no hope of reading the elaborate flourishes. The tapestries drew my eye more times than I could count. What was this place? Why were they all here? The chamber itself appeared to be an old storage tunnel, of sorts, but the fae had made it their own. We’d come here from Chancery Lane, twisting and turning through the tunnels. This was under London, the very place Andrews had highlighted as a hot spot. Did these fae live here? Was the queen here?

I’d made my way around the room and stopped beside Reign. Warren glared at me, which considering all the other fae had ignored me, felt like something of an achievement. I grinned back.

“You can’t trail a human pet around in here, Reign,” Warren said. “Take it back where you found it.”

“Hey”—I’d had about enough of the stuck-up fae attitude—“I’m not some homeless puppy, okay. Get over your own egos already.”

Warren sneered, baring his teeth in a predatory smile with enough gravitas behind it to have me flinching. “You are what I say you are.”

“Whatever.” I snarled. Reign leaned against the bar, half smiling at me. “You.” I pointed a finger. “Why did you bring me here?”