City of Fae

He got to his feet. “Let me just … I’ll, er, I’ll just get that.”


Hunched forward, I dried my face with the back of my hand. Well, this had turned out to be one horrendous week, and now I was in a Metropolitan Police detective’s apartment, crying all over him, apparently bespelled by a two-hundred-year-old rock star fae. What a mess I’d managed to get myself embroiled in.

Detective Miles filed in behind Andrews. Slate-gray suit and neutral gaze declared him on-the-job. “Miss O’Connor.” I mustered a smile, noticing of all the things, how he had mud on his shoes. His covertly judgmental glare settled on Andrews.

“Miss O’Connor got herself in a spot of bother.” Andrews explained sounding exquisitely English to my American ears, and when Miles simply grunted, Andrews added, “I’ll grab that file.”

Andrews left the room and Miles’s gaze slid back to me. The corner of his thin lips curled upward and his brow furrowed, just slightly. I may not have noticed the change in him if his lips hadn’t peeled back to reveal a sordid leer. He crossed the room to me in the space of two strides. Warning bells chimed in my head. I tensed to stand, when he planted a hand on my shoulder and shoved me back down. “Well, aren’t you something?” He thrust his face inches from mine. I got a good look at the tea-stained teeth behind the grin. “You’re a tricky one to get to, especially with that damned fae trailing you.”

His fingers dug into my shoulder. I still wasn’t entirely sure what was happening here. Was this a mistake? “You’re hurting me.” I said, surprised by the clarity of my voice.

He cocked his head, beady-eyes twitching as he scoured my expression. “Mm, remarkable, really. Almost perfect.”

“Let go.” There was that iron tone again, almost me, but not quite. A harder me.

“I’m afraid not. She wants you back. You’ve run out of time.” I clamped my hand around his wrist and tried to pry his fingers off, but he simply grinned and shoved his face closer still. His gaze searched mine, eyes darting, scrutinizing. “Yes … I wonder how deep the human in you goes.”

I gasped. “You work for the queen.”

“How else do you think your little charade was set up? Weakened, and trapped behind iron, she couldn’t do it herself. You didn’t believe all of this was real, did you? Your life, your little flat, your job at the newspaper?” He snorted and spittle dashed my cheek. “Christ, you really are stupid.”

I squeezed his wrist, feeling muscles twitch. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, but if you don’t let me go I’ll scream.” Where was my dagger? The one I’d taken from the fae? My palm itched.

His gaze dipped lower and he dipped his head, leaning in close. He sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth. “Up close, you smell sweet, like them.”

I’d had enough, and the quiet, previously hidden place in my head fractured open, spilling some of its madness through. I snapped my grip closed, holding his hand to my shoulder, and thrust my elbow up, smashing it into this nose with a satisfying crunch. Blood spurted. He let out a bark of pain. Twisting, I yanked him down, slamming him into the couch.

“Alina!”

I sprang back at Andrews’s astonished shout.

Miles slid to the floor, cupping his bleeding nose. “Dhe … bwoke … muh … goes.”

“I—”

Andrews held out a hand, palm out, “Okay, Alina. We’re not going to hurt you.”

I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. “He works for the queen!”

“Okay. Just calm down.”

“I am calm!” I snapped. “He’s not who he says he is. Ask him.”

Andrews’s wide eyes skipped to Miles, who blubbered, “Sheh’s ig-sane.”

“Oh, perfect … this is just perfect. I’m not insane. He just threatened me. Andrews, please … Do I look crazy, really?” I had just assaulted a police officer, and considering I’d been sobbing in Andrews’s arms minutes ago, the evidence wasn’t exactly on my side.

“Alina, I’m not saying you’re crazy, just that you need help.”

I glared at Miles, betting if I broke one of his fingers he’d spill the truth right there, but Andrews wasn’t about to let me get near his partner.

“She’s bespelled,” Miles grunted.

“You bastard.” I lunged and locked my hand around his throat. “Tell me what she wants! Tell me what’s going on.”

Andrews hooked an arm around my waist and dragged me off his partner. When I fought, he snatched my right arm and locked it behind my back, giving him leverage over my upper body. “Cuffs,” he grunted.

Miles, coughing and wheezing, reached inside his jacket and tossed a pair of cuffs onto the floor.

“You don’t need those. This is all a misunderstanding.” I caught Miles’s eye and saw the bastard grin. Andrews hooked a leg around mine and spun me around. Before I knew what was happening I was facedown on the floor, his knee in my back, cuffs ratcheting into place.