City of Fae

She plunged her fangs into my neck and shoulder, thrusting them deep. The pain alone jolted me awake, just for a moment, but long enough to plunge the dagger into her chest. Her scream erupted in my ear. She threw me down and loomed high over me. “You miserable creature!”


The hound hit her in the side like a missile. White teeth glinted and hooked claws sliced. They tumbled in a mass of spider legs and beast. Snarls and growls mingled with the sound of bones cracking. Resting limp on my side, I watched through silent tears as the hound ripped into her. She flailed, her legs kicking, twitching, but the hound had her on her back and pinned beneath its huge bulk. It buried its maw into her torso and tore out her milky insides.

Spiders surged, spilled down from the ceiling and scurried in from all sides. They sensed their queen dying, as did I. Her screams rattled, then drowned. Her heart thundered in my chest. The hound clamped its jaws around her throat and whipped its head from side to side, tearing her apart.

Her touch in me flickered and vanished. The constant beat in my ears fell silent. The poison occupying my thoughts dissipated and drained away, lifting a horrible weight from my body. A weight I hadn’t even known I’d been carrying. Mind quiet, body still—I was free.

A few spiders paused on the back of my hand, right before my eyes. Their legs tapped, waiting. Others stopped too, and those that had climbed onto the hound skittered away.

“Leave. Go back,” I whispered. An electric shiver twitched through them. My will and theirs. They too were free. The rivers of spiders withdrew and retreated back into the cracks and crevices. It’s over.

I closed my eyes. It was over, and so was I. The queen was dead. My purpose dead with her. I didn’t have enough life left in me to move. But I’d beaten her. In the end, Warren would have been proud. The wet sounds of gristle between teeth mingled with the cries from those still alive inside the arena. I heard the beat of helicopter blades outside. Andrews would be out there. I had faith he’d gotten the doors open in time. There was nothing more to be done. My part was over. She was dead, and I was dying. Things like her, like me, were not meant for this world.

A snuffling muzzle nudged my head. I forced an eye open and was thankful I didn’t have the energy to scream. The hound blinked red glowing eyes down at me. Lips drawn back over its teeth, it was either smiling, or about to tear my throat out. A whine pitched high from its throat.

“Get away. They’ll kill you, Reign. The police. The people. It’s not safe for the fae anymore.” There would be evidence, witness statements, cell phone videos. This wasn’t going away.

The hound growled low and its blood-red eyes narrowed. I didn’t fear it, not when I already had death breathing down my neck. Maybe that was why it didn’t attack. When I next opened my eyes, it was gone and I was alone as I’d been when I’d first appeared onto the Chancery Lane platform. I didn’t want to go. I’d only just learned how to live. I was free for the first time. My own person. I could be anything I wanted to be. Go anywhere I wanted. I was Alina. Maybe I’d lived more in the last few days than some did in a lifetime. In the end, Warren would have agreed. Even that stubborn bastard would have had to admit I’d made a difference.

Boots hammered. Orders barked. I’d lain there minutes, hours?

“Get the paramedic in here. Clear the area. Check for survivors.”

Opening my eyes, I blinked into the face of one of the Armed Response team.

“A live one here,” he announced, and then moved on. I didn’t have the heart or strength to tell him I wouldn’t be alive for much longer. They should save the others, the real people, not me. I was done. I heard shouts of “alive” and “dead.” More were alive, than dead. That was good. But we hadn’t saved them all.

“Alina! Oh God.” Andrews dropped to his knees beside me. He’d lost his coat and jacket somewhere, and his shirt gaped. His hair ruffled wildly about his face. His wide eyes spoke of horrors he must have witnessed. I wanted to tell him it was okay. It was over, and I was ready.

“Where are the paramedics?!” he bellowed.

I wasn’t even sure I had a body they would know what to do with. I didn’t have a heart to beat.

Andrews scooped up my right hand and a wave of liquid energy rolled over me. For a few seconds, I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think about anything but my hand in his. Time lodged, frozen in the moment. His warmth spilled through my veins, the very rich taste of him danced on my lips, and his thoughts opened to me. I witnessed myself, pale and limp on the floor. The crushing weight of grief pushed down. His grief. And the swell of emotion drowned out the fear; his fear.

He yanked his hand from mine and fell back. Holy shit … I panted, staring up, seeing nothing, because all I could feel, and see, and smell was him. His fear ignited mine. His exhaustion drained me. His life, his loves. The despair for his older brother. The love lost for a younger sister. How was that possible? A lingering sense of grief settled over me, grief for … me.