City of Fae

He leaned around me, placing the wine bottle on the table, deliberately brushing against my arm. I stood still, refusing to move or give an inch. It wouldn’t work on me. I would not let him see how far gone I was. He wouldn’t win this battle of wills. I would beat the bespellment, beat him.

When he straightened, he’d somehow moved closer without moving at all, filling my view with undeniably seductive fae. “If I wanted you bespelled I could have caught you from the first touch.” He bowed his head, tilting to the side, inquisitive, alluring … seeking. I blinked at him, sure he’d see me trembling, heard my breath racing. His eyes flashed with a predatory gleam, pupils darkening while the three distinct colors bled free. “Had I wanted you, you wouldn’t be able to fight it.”

Snatching my senses back, I turned and slipped away, leaving my glass on the table. He knew exactly how to distract me, but the salacious thoughts he’d summoned couldn’t happen. “So, you don’t want me, and I don’t want you. I’m glad we cleared that up.” My voice quivered. This wouldn’t do. I was not going to let him affect me. Lifting my gaze I speared him with what I hoped to be a chilled glare. “Why was my bedroom filled with spiders?” Ah, there was the steel I knew I was capable of. If I stuck to the questions, the facts. I could fight this, whatever this was.

“She’s either sending her spiders to observe or retrieve you.” He tossed his head back, downed his wine, and poured himself a second glass. “I wish I knew why.” He smiled a thin, guarded smile. “Things would be so much easier if I knew why,” he said, and draped himself against the bookcase, leaning hard, shoulders slouched.

So many questions bubbled in my head, all clamoring to be free. He dropped his chin and closed his eyes. His soft sigh said enough. He rubbed at his face and blinked at me, refocusing, and tacked on one of his charm-the-crowd smiles in an effort to mask his fatigue. “Why don’t you tell me the truth, Alina? Save me the trouble of trying to second-guess the queen? You know something.”

“How many times do I have to tell you? I don’t know anything. If I did, why would I keep it from you?”

“Good question. Why would you?”

I hesitated and frowned back at him. “Why don’t you trust me?”

“Why would I? The queen could have asked me to get whatever she wants from you, but she hasn’t. She said you’re hers—”

“Maybe she didn’t mean me—”

“Something isn’t right. There’s something about you … Something …” His gaze speared into me. He believed I was lying and I had no idea how to convince him otherwise.

“How come you show up just when I need saving?” I asked.

“Would you rather I didn’t?”

“You have to agree it’s suspicious.”

He blinked and tilted his head, considering his reply. “I’ve been watching you.”

Creepy. “Like a stalker?”

“Exactly like that.” His smile bloomed and the tiredness sloughed off him. He straightened, and pushed off the bookcase as though moments before he hadn’t looked about ready to call it a night and hit the sack. “You should look up more. Think like a fae. You’d have seen me if you paid attention to your surroundings.” He grinned, obviously enjoying my frown. “You have to admit I’m useful to have around.”

About as useful as a pet cat, and just as reliable. “Why are you watching me? I mean, you said it yourself, you’ve got better things to do. You’re on the run. Shouldn’t you leave London?” Placing his glass on the table he closed the distance between us. I backed up as he stalked me down, and bumped against a couch.

He laughed a delicious rumbling laughter and turned his face away. “Leave London?” It wasn’t humor in his eyes when he faced me, but a sharper, harder look. He shook his head and flashed me a forced smile. “I can’t leave.”

He stood too close, crowding my senses, filling my vision, blurring my thoughts. I clutched at the back of the couch, digging my fingers in as I fought through the distraction of him. This was like in the street, when he’d tried to challenge me, but this time there was a wildness in him. This time, his game was dangerous. Questions. The questions helped ground me.