City of Fae

“You need to calm down.”


“No.” Digging my heels in brought us to an abrupt halt by the door. The heat of a dozen stares burned my back. “You brought me here, so have the balls to stick to your decisions.” Someone behind me chuckled. Reign shot a glare over my shoulder and the laughter died.

“It’s not that simple,” he said.

“I’m a big girl, I can figure out what’s simple and what isn’t.”

“You’re nineteen.”

“So? What are you? Twenty-three?”

His lips twitched, holding back a smile. “A little older …” He seemed to realize he was still gripping my arms and finally let go.

“Twenty-five?” I shrugged my jacket back into place and brushed my arms down, working out the aches he’d left me with.

“I stopped counting at two hundred.”

Two hundred?! My mouth fell open. He held my incredulous stare, face neutral. Behind us, someone turned the TV up. He was two hundred years old?! He didn’t look a day over twenty-five. I knew the fae aged slowly—another reason we coveted them—but for him to be two centuries old? I couldn’t wrap my thoughts around it. I glanced behind me, at the surreal beauty of them all, and felt more out of place, more human, than ever.

“There so much you don’t understand,” Reign said, voice softer.

“Then help me understand.”

His gaze flicked over my shoulder again, perhaps checking to see who was listening. I kept my eyes glued on him, watching tiny changes in his expression. Concern tightened tiny lines around his eyes. What was he so worried about? Was it Warren?

“Not here,” he said, opening the door and beckoning me outside into the cool tunnels. We walked along an abandoned Underground track. Makeshift strings of lights dangled along the tunnel ceiling, battling the dark into the farthest curves of the tunnel walls. Occasionally a rumble rattled the debris by our feet. The air should have smelled damp, and stale, but it didn’t. Instead, the air I breathed tasted clean, fresh, with a hint of floral sweetness.

I stuck close to Reign, hands deep in my pockets should the urge to touch get out of control again. Goose bumps continued to lift the tiny hairs on my arms. Behind us, the tunnel curved away. I didn’t know how we got here, or how to get back, and only had Reign as my guide; for all intents and purposes, a stranger, and a fae. His words in the stairwell came back to me. “You said you wouldn’t hurt me unless you had to … ?” He didn’t answer; just strode on. I tried another angle of attack. “What did Warren mean, you’re stuck here?”

He marched on, steps light on the tracks, coat flaring. “Where we’re going, we’ll both get our answers.”

“Where are we going?” The silence devoured my voice.

“To the queen.”

A fae queen. Royalty. What would she be like? If the every day fae were stunning, what type of woman was I about to meet? “Should I, I don’t know, bow or curtsy or something?”

“No,” Reign growled, gaze locked ahead, face stony and cold. “When we go in, I want you to stay back, out of sight. I don’t know how she’ll react to seeing you.”

I crossed my arms and hoped she didn’t hate people, like Warren. I’d researched a few instances of the fae lashing out at people, mostly in the early days, shortly after the fae had revealed their presence to the world. It was long before my time, but every now and then a story would emerge of hidden crimes only now coming to light. Without the Trinity Law, some of the fae had taken it upon themselves to abduct people. And it had been happening for years, long before they stepped into the limelight. Even now, after the Trinity Law had drawn a line in the sand, the human-fae truce was a fragile one. This place, Under, it represented our innate fear of the fae; that they weren’t what we believed, that their glamor was a lie. Clearly, some of the fae still resented us. If the queen was anything like Warren, we may not get along.

I shivered, teeth chattering. “Does she have a name?” Another rumble shook the ground, raining dust from the tunnel ceiling. The string of lights flickered. Reign paid it no mind.

“She did, once.”

I jogged, trying to keep pace with Reign’s unforgiving stride. He didn’t elaborate and stomped ahead, jaw clenched, eyes fierce. He’d shut me out, and hadn’t even looked at me in the last five minutes. “Are you mad because I argued with Warren? I’m not going to apologize. He’s an ass.”

Reign’s lips twitched, but my comment hadn’t quite earned a smile. “Warren comes from a different time, an older time. He remembers and prefers the old ways.”

“He’s still an ass.”