City of Fae

“You wanted to know more about us. Here we are.”


I wasn’t sure what I’d expected, but it wasn’t a patchwork of discarded furniture decorated with the entrancing fae. “Okay, I’m listening. What is this place?”

“Right now, you’re in Under, the place the London fae call home. It’s not much, but at least it’s ours. The ones who’ve yet to earn their right to ‘free roam’ live down here. Some, like me, don’t like being trapped, so we strive to get topside. Some, like Shay, prefer it here.”

I flicked my gaze away, not wanting to let him catch any glimpse of my thoughts about Shay on my face. “How big is Under?”

“There are miles of abandoned tunnels, bunkers, and reservoirs under London. Room enough for thousands.”

Thousands? A city beneath a city? Was such a thing possible? Searching Reign’s gaze, I found only honesty there. This revelation was huge. The implications were terrifying. We thought we knew the fae. They were our neighbors. Friends. Another mom at the school gate, a colleague at the office. But Under wasn’t normal. This place, it didn’t even feel normal. The mismatch of tired couches, the astonishing tapestries, and the fae themselves. It felt like an accident, like trying to force pieces of a jigsaw puzzle together when they wouldn’t fit.

“What about the queen?” I asked, moistening dry lips.

“The queen …” Reign leaned an arm on the bar and lifted his eyes to the tapestries. “She wove those,” he said with a slight air of sadness tinging his words. “Too long ago for her to remember. There was a time when she was very different to what she is today.” He offered me a half-hearted little smile and probably sensed I was about to unload a barrage of questions. “Judging by the spiders that attacked you, you have something the queen wants, whether you’re aware of it or not. She doesn’t send her constructs after just anyone; it takes a great deal of draíocht to create them.”

“Is she here?” The fine hairs on the back of my neck prickled.

“Close.”

I leaned against the bar. “Until yesterday, I hadn’t even met a fae. Whatever she wants, it has to do with you. You’re a fae-at-large. The cops asked me to call them if you showed up again. Before I met you—”

“Your life wasn’t yet complete?”

“My life was …” Words failed me, just stopped. I mentally groped for some sort of defining sentence and failed. “I was fine. Happy. It was—is—my life. This isn’t about me.” I rubbed at my hand. “Tell me more about the queen.”

Reign’s gaze flicked to Warren, who finished his drink and slammed the glass down on the bar. He raked a hand through his jaw-length hair and stroked his fingers over the tip of his right ear, drawing my eye to where the scar continued. He’d lost the pointed tip of his ear. I blinked away, but he saw my reaction, and leaned over the bar.

“If you want scars like mine, keep on walking the road you’re traveling. You’ll collect them soon enough, if you survive, that is. Humans are weak, fragile …”

“I’m not walking any road.”

“No? Aren’t we all walking roads?” He gestured, as though pushing me away. “You’re asking for trouble with that one Reign. You should kill it now and put it out of its misery. Or at least bespell her. Prevent her from talking about what she’s seen here.”

I’d had enough. “Hey, buddy, you can’t call people ‘it’. I respect what you are, so why don’t you do me the courtesy of acknowledging me in return?”

Reign checked Warren’s frozen face. The older fae straightened and sucked in a hissing breath. “She doesn’t belong. Get her out of here, or I will.”

“Oh, you’re something,” I growled. Reign caught my arm but I snatched free and pointed a finger at Warren. “There are words for people like you.” Reign tried again and grabbed my wrist. He tried to pull me away from the bar. “Racist, for one. You know that? You’re racist against humans. Well, guess what, buddy? You’re in our city, so you have to play by our rules. Nobody is forcing you to stay in London—”

“Alina …” Reign warned, manhandling me toward the door.

Warren grinned. “Wrong again.”

Reign swung a warning glare back to Warren. Wait, I’d stumbled across something important. “Who’s keeping you here?” I blurted. Warren snarled, and Reign stilled. “Is it the queen?”

“Alina!” Reign yanked on my arm, dragging me toward the door.

Trying to shake him off wasn’t having any effect. I twisted, like a worm on a hook, but his grip only tightened. “You brought me here for answers. You can’t kick me out when I start asking questions.”

“Don’t let him get to you.” Reign growled.

I tugged back. He jerked me forward, dragging me after him. “Let me go.”