City of Fae

Reign leaned to one side, one hand gripping the back of a couch, one fine dark eyebrow arched and his wicked lips working to hold back the laughter. He’d slouched a little, leaning hard against the couch. “Do you … want some help?” he asked, not laughing, yet.

“I’m good,” I squeaked, yanking down my nightshirt in the hope it might cover my thighs. Reign’s gaze tracked the movement and I froze, trapped between embarrassment and anticipation. “So, uh …” A quick scan of the room: high ceilings, grand marble fireplace, hardwood floors, couches soft enough they’d swallow you whole. This had to be Reign’s place. “Thanks … I think. Um, this is kinda awkward.” Especially as the last time I’d seen him, I’d rammed my tongue down his throat, and now this.

“I was rather enjoying it.”

“Yes, well,” Another tug on my top, “I broke your vase.”

“I noticed.”

“I don’t suppose you could zip back and grab me some clothes?”

Amusement glittered in his eyes. “I’d prefer not to. That last trip left me drained. Unless you’d like to share some of your draíocht?”

His hungry look was not my imagination. I swallowed hard, trying to moisten my suddenly dry throat. His smile had waned, turned severe, as his gaze roamed. I pinched my lip between my teeth and shifted from one foot to the other. “No, I think I’ll be keeping my draíocht, thank you. Do you have anything I can wear?”

“Sure.” He drew in a breath and pushed off the couch to cross the room and disappear through a doorway.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid.” What was it about Reign that had me acting like a lovesick fangirl? I knelt and picked up pieces of the vase, placing them in a little pile, chastising myself under my breath. All because I wanted a hug. Jeez, what kind of attention-starved female am I? It wasn’t my fault. Being woken by Reign was intense enough without adding a room full of spiders to the mix. Damn those things. I’d spent over an hour going through every hidey-hole in my apartment, ridding the shadows of any suspect webs. Where the hell had they come from? How long had they been there? How long had Reign been there? How did he know just the right moment to show up?

Pain sliced into my thumb. With a yelp, I dropped the sharp vase fragment.

“Here.” Reign held out a slip of a dress, blue satin and lace.

Sucking on my bleeding thumb I took the garment with a frown. “Thanks, I think.” I mumbled.

“It’s Shay’s, and it’s all I have. Or one of my shirts?”

I so did not want him to see how the idea of wearing one of his shirts appealed to my bespelled mind. “No, this is good.” Featherlight in my hand, the dress probably looked like a million dollars on Shay. “I’ll … just …”

“Through the door, down the hall, second on the left. You can change in there.”

Reign’s apartment could only be described as regal. It put my little postage stamp of a home to shame. In my short trip to the bathroom, I counted five doors, and I had no doubt each would have a room behind probably five times the size of my entire apartment. The bathroom—where I quickly undressed—shone with accents of platinum and marble. A few half melted pillar candles flanked a gorgeous rolltop bath, and the towels screamed touch-me, which of course I did. If I had any misgivings about the worlds we came from, Reign’s luxurious apartment set me straight.

A quick once-over at my reflection revealed shadows under my eyes that had no right to be there. I raked wet hands through my hair and adjusted the dress. And what a dress. Designed as a gown for the beanpole fae, the lacy garment trailed around my ankles, climbed my thighs, hugged my waist and scooped at my cleavage in a scandalous fashion. On my human frame, it looked absurd. I had no idea how to wear such a thing with elegance, but it was better than the tee that barely covered my butt. With a dash of lipstick, some eyeliner, I might have actually passed for pretty. As it was, I looked like someone trying too hard to be fae and failing miserably. I turned my head and examined my profile. Maybe with some fae contact lenses and ear tips? Who was I kidding?

A soft musical beat drifted beneath the bathroom door and my expression tightened. It was time for answers. I couldn’t go on chasing my own tail. The spiders obviously had it in for me. What would have happened if Reign hadn’t shown up? I needed to know what those spiders were for. If Reign couldn’t tell me, I’d have to go to Under and get my answers there, get my evidence too. I gave my reflection a stern glare. “Don’t let him distract you with all the pretty, Alina. Get to the core of what’s going on here. Cut through the fae crap and find the truth.”

Yes, this was me, curious reporter, standing in the rock star Sovereign’s bathroom in a borrowed dress, poised to tell that smug-ass fae exactly what I thought of him and his bespellment. I could do this. Get my story. Get my life back. Get my act together. And get away from Reign and his toxic touch before it was too late.