City of Fae

A blush warmed my cheeks but I wasn’t backing down. “But it’s not real. What they feel for you … They don’t really care.” Like I do, I added silently, and then scolded myself for my own bespelled idiocy.

His eyes narrowed, just a fraction, and his lips pulled tight into a mockery of a smile. “You’ve clearly never been fae-fucked.”

I slapped him hard enough to tingle my palm.

He worked his jaw around the pain and slowly drew his gaze back to me. “Feel better now that you’ve got your righteous speech out of your system? It doesn’t change anything. I still need to feed, the fans still want to hear me sing, the queen still holds my reins.”

“Don’t touch me again, Reign. Ever.”

“Gladly.” He whipped around, and waved a hand. “Get out, and the next time the queen comes looking for you, don’t expect me to be there to save your ass.”

Snatching up my dagger from the table, I strode for the door. “I’ll get my story without you.”

“You do that.”

Growling, I yanked open the door and blinked up at the menacing presence of a bristling FA assassin. By some miracle of reflexes I blocked his dagger strike with my own. Metal sang, our blades kissed, fear and potent adrenaline trilled through me, and then Reign gripped my shoulder and whirled me away.

Three fae, armed to the teeth, lunged for Reign. Daggers flashed. He deflected a jab, cracked a fist into the face of one, but a dagger got through and plunged into his shoulder. With a snarl, he rounded on the attacker, only to be met by the business end of a short sword.

“Get him in irons, before he turns on us,” one growled.

Reign pulled up short, just as another flung a dagger into his back. It punched deep. Reign let out a cry and dropped to a knee, his bright stare locking onto me. He’d wasted his draíocht getting me away from my apartment and couldn’t vanish, couldn’t escape. They had him. To prove it one of them locked iron shackles around his wrist. A deep warning growl rumbled from inside him, but he had nothing left to fight with.

Half their size, twice as slow, my only option was to run. I made it out of the apartment before something hot and hard slammed into my back, tight against my shoulder blade. Agony poured through me. I fell, knees cracking against floor.

“Alina!” Reign’s cry barely penetrated the mental wall I’d rammed down to seal off the worst of the pain. This can’t happen. I cannot be caught, I’m not finished. Reaching over my right shoulder, I clasped my fingers around the dagger in my back and yanked it free. Pain flared, but like everything else, I shut it out, slammed a mental door on it. An armed fae bore down on me, face impassive, tricolored eyes black, gray and blue. Dark. Emotionless, but for the clear intent to kill. He would kill me. I knew it as surely as I knew my own name. Cool control washed over me. All signs of panic and the rattling fear, vanished. I peered through my bangs, panting breaths rushing across my lips, saw him pluck a short sword from his belt, and smiled. He had no idea whom he’d engaged. None of them knew the truth.

When he drew up close, I kicked out, knocking his leg away and throwing him off balance. He righted himself with a grunt, but by then I’d twisted, and with perverse glee I stabbed the dagger into his boot. His bellow sounded sweet to my oddly serene mind. My body didn’t feel like my own. Muscles moved, alien commands burst through my mind. Impossibly, I knew I could beat him. It wasn’t fantasy. It was fact. His short sword came down in a wide arc. I jerked back, caught his wrist and twisted. Bones shattered inside my grip. My victim crumpled to his knees. He swung a left hook wildly, glancing off my chin. Pain sparked up the right side of my face. I turned my glare on him, snarled, and punched my dagger into his chest. Those fae eyes widened, his thin lips parted, and finally he saw me for what I was, what I’d yet to understand. Green vapor swirled between us, rising from the dagger buried in his chest, from my hand … from me.

With a start I jerked back and fell on my ass. Reality flooded back in. I tasted blood, my blood, on my lips and felt the burn of agony in my back. “What … ?”

Through the open door, inside the apartment, Reign tried to break free of the fae flanking him, but his hands were cuffed and their grip on his arms didn’t falter. He stilled, his gaze flicking to me, dread draining all color from his face. Hands scooped me up from behind. As before, instinct locked into place and I reacted, as though it was simply a matter of following through on a well-rehearsed routine. I spun, punched down into the crook of the fae’s arm. He swung for me. I blocked, ducked, and punched my dagger into his side, feeling the blade ease through flesh and settle into the wound. Attack, one, two, three. Enemy. Escape. Shoving him aside, I ran.

“Alina!” Reign’s cry followed me down the hall, down the stairwell, and out into the night.





Chapter Thirteen