City of Shadows

by Pippa Dacosta

  “He’ll be back,” Samuel finally said, his stance relaxing now that I wasn’t about to free a dagger. “Until then, come with me on patrol?” It was worded like an order, but he’d added a questioning lilt at the end.

  “Kael … I should wait.”

  “You’re armed and ready, clearly. Kael can wait. We lost a good warrior last night. I could do with your help.”

  Help me. I rolled my lips together and sighed through my nose. He waited with that infallible fae patience. He’d lost a warrior, and given Shay’s warning about the rogue fae hunting in packs, my time would be better spent on the streets than waiting on Kael. I was ready for a fight, and rattling around the big house wasn’t going to help.

  “Fine,” I grumbled.

  Chapter Fifteen

  We walked toward Covent Garden’s Seven Dials. I could see the pillar ahead; where seven roads diverged to the one central point. Cobbled streets glistened beneath a rain shower heavy enough to drive the crowds inside.

  “Why’s this place called Seven Dials if there are only six?” I asked. Samuel had been quiet since the drive from FAHQ. I couldn’t stand it any longer. He clearly liked painfully tense silences; I did not.

  He looked at me like I was an imbecile, and then lifted his gaze to the pillar ahead. Six dials clearly crowned the top. His violet eyes narrowed a fraction. “You’re right.” He said it like my being right was more shocking than the fact Seven Dials was only made up of six. When he looked back at me, humor sparkled in his eyes. “And I have no idea. But I’ll be sure to find out and let you know.” The humor now lifted his lips too. “You’ve more questions. I can see them in your eyes.”

  I had all the questions. But only one thing I really wanted to know right then. “Are you okay? I mean, after the lytch …” His smile faded, and the humor vanished. “Kael was clearly worried. And I …” I was too, I wanted to say, but he’d quickened his stride and glared into the murk, his barriers building around him.

  We turned down a narrow alley where the period townhouses huddled together. Rain hissed on the sidewalk, and I feared I’d have to endure another half hour of excruciating silence.

  “We lost Grace.” The rain had plastered his hair to his face, but it didn’t seem to bother him. I watched a droplet roll over his cheekbone before he finally swiped it away. A weariness dulled his eyes. And it wasn’t anything to do with the downpour.

  “I’m sorry.” I didn’t know Grace, but I’d seen her with Nyx. The two of them had been close.

  He nodded once, acknowledging my words, for what they were worth. “She was cut off from the group, cornered and killed by a rogue group of fae.”

  I didn’t know what to say, and I found myself thinking of Shay’s warning. Of how things were changing. The fae and the world they came from wasn’t designed to be shackled by laws. “How’s Nyx?”

  Samuel winced, and didn’t reply. The attack must have been brutal to kill an FA warrior.

  A barbed knot of guilt twisted inside. I’d been on the other side of the FA ranks and dealt a few FA their final moments. That fact hurt more every day.

  Samuel went on to explain that the nightly patrols were getting worse. Tension strummed through London’s streets. More fae were breaking the rules, and finding FA daggers in their backs after numerous warnings.

  “We could really use your help out here,” Samuel added. “Kael believes you’d make a powerful ally, once you harness your potential. We need it. We need you.”

  My stride tripped a little. I hid it, and instead watched a small group of people spill from a bar, pull their hoods up, and scoot quickly into another bar. The FA needed me, or a version of me? The version that devoured.

  We strode on, silence descending between us once again.

  “My family were killed,” he said flatly. “It’s my earliest memory.”

  I came to a stop outside a store selling beads and shook water from my hair. An awning shielded me from the rain, but Samuel still stood in the downpour, immune to its chill. I blinked up at him while thousands of questions sparked inside my thoughts.

  “I don’t even know why,” he continued, scanning the street. “The elders ordered the Hunt to kill us, and so they did. They came for me last.”

  This was the most he’d ever told me about himself. More questions fought to be free, but every time I asked the fae anything, they deflected or changed the subject. It practically killed me to stay quiet, but after a few more of those tense moments, he joined me under the awning, ran his fingers through his hair and shook the water free from his fingertips. “The Hunt is like nothing you’ve ever seen. They strike fast and slaughter without remorse. The lore claims they’re not fae, but something older, something primal.”

  I focused on the dimly lit display of beads, not seeing any of them. What must it have been like to be hunted by something the fae considered monsters?

  “I shouldn’t have been able to fight them off, I was just a juvenile, hardly old enough to lift a sword.” Crossing his arms, he leaned back against the windowsill but kept his keen eyes on the slow-moving traffic. “I fought them and ran. Kael found me much later, lost, starving, beaten, and weak. I attacked him. He should have killed me for my insolence.”

  What kind of world kills its kids? I stole a glance his way, but he continued to gaze across the street, his mind elsewhere.

  “He took me in, put a blade in my hand, and told me it was always meant to be that way. I believed him. I still do.” His lips twitched into a slanted smile. “The death of my family ultimately resulted in my path here, to a world where a bloodline has no standing on how high you can rise. Where I’m respected for my skills with a blade, not the strength of those who came before me.”

  I looked at him—really looked at him. His blond hair had turned almost black under the weight of the rain. It was cut just short of brushing his eyes. He’d be the type to cut it all off should it impede his vision. Even now, so close, he seemed so far away. I’d spent day after day in his company, and he’d told me more about himself in the last fifteen minutes than he had in the entire time I’d known him. When I’d pushed questions at him, he’d shut down. Became guarded; against me, against the others. And so terribly alone.

  “Thank you,” I said, meaning it. “For telling me that.”

  He took my words in, and then shifted against the sill, leaning closer. “You look at us, at me, as though we’re your enemy,” he said quietly, as though sharing a secret. “The FA aren’t bad, Alina. Neither is Kael. We are what we are. Products of Faerie.”

  “I know.”

  “Kael has an impossible task.”

  “I know that too, but …” How much to tell him? I wanted to tell him everything. Becky, Andrews, the bespellment and Reign. But I couldn’t. Not yet. “Kael has secrets. I don’t trust him.”

  That crooked, precious smile still played on his lips. “He says the same about you.”

  Secrets, it seemed we all had them.

  Samuel pushed off the sill and held out a hand. “There’s a bar not far from here where the rogue fae frequent.”

  I clasped his hand in mine, marveling once more at the normalcy of the touch. He hauled me to my feet, a little closer than I’d been prepared for. His grip tightened. It was only slight, making me wonder if I’d felt it at all, and then he let go and strode out into the rain.

  Samuel had spotted one persistent fae offender cruising the bar for his hit of draíocht. The warrior had delivered a quick warning by the point of a blade, stirring the crowd, while I’d watched from the sidelines. Samuel had something of a reputation, it seemed. He certainly had a presence about him, a stalwart commitment to the red-and-blacks uniform.

  “They’ll see our colors and their first instinct is to run,” Samuel said as we wove through a crowd, this one sparse enough for me not to worry about accidentally brushing up against someone. Although the thought wasn’t far from my mind. It seemed my dose of lytch hadn’t entirely cured the need pulling on my nerves
.

  “I know you can run.” Samuel’s sly tone drew my attention back to him. “Let’s see how you fare in the field.”

  He didn’t quite smile, but there was definitely a glint of something in his eyes. Or perhaps that was the subdued lighting. I still couldn’t figure him out, and had no idea what he was thinking from one moment to the next. I’d spent more time with him than anyone else in my short life, and yet I still didn’t feel as though I really knew him. Like he’d shut half of him away. Now that he’d told me about his childhood, I wanted to know more. A lot more.

  Scanning the crowd, my gaze snagged on a well-dressed fae, one I knew well. He’d taken a chunk out of my shoulder. “There.”

  “Another two just entered,” Samuel said. The fae immediately spotted us in our leathers and tensed. “Take yours. I’ve got these two.” As soon as Samuel moved, so did his two fae. They turned right around and disappeared back out the door.

  The commotion drew the attention of my alleyway biter. The relief on his face at Samuel’s leaving quickly turned to fear once he noticed me—and my uniform.

  He shot from his table so fast his long legs got tangled in a chair, sending him sprawling, but in seconds he was up and sprinting for the back door. Procedure dictated I give him a verbal warning before any physical force could be applied. I figured he’d already bitten me once, so I was within my rights to get physical in return, so I dashed after him. He hammered down a staircase and slammed his way through a fire door with me close enough to bounce the door off my hands and chase him down.

  My fingers itched to palm my daggers and throw one at his back. Legs pumping, I was bearing down on him when he veered across a street, through a small crowd, and darted toward a line of construction fencing. I didn’t slow, and wouldn’t. He was mine.

  He burst through the gate, snapping the chain and sprinted toward an old building in the throes of renovation. Bounding up the steps, he threw himself through the door. I nearly had him, just a few more strides. Dagger in my hand, I lunged as he stumbled over a work light and slammed him hard against a wall, eliciting a yelp. He sent a right fist wide, teeth flashing and eyes bright, but I ducked the blow and pushed the flank of my blade up and under his chin, holding him still. The thrill of the hunt surged through my veins, and now I’d won my prize.

  “You picked the wrong unreal girl to run from, fae,” I snarled, my voice smoother, darker, than that of the American Girl’s.

  He glared down his nose. “You gonna kill me?”

  So he remembered me. Good. “I should.”

  “I have rights. There are laws.”

  “You broke those laws when you bespelled that girl on the street and then took a bite out of my shoulder.”

  He snarled, “What are you, anyway?”

  “I’m made of fairy dust, didn’t ya know?”

  A purr sounded from behind, accompanied by the sounds of scuffing feet and a high whistle. I chanced a look. Three fae; two male, one female, armed with makeshift weapons. They came through the door and fanned outward, blocking my exit.

  “You wear the FA colors, bitch,” the lead male purred, “but you don’t look fae.”

  A delicate trickle of fear spilled through me. Without turning back to my catch, I let go and pushed away from him. “Run.”

  He disappeared farther into the building somewhere, while I freed my other dagger and faced the pack. They moved like the animals they imitated, their every step deliberate.

  “Didn’t know General Kael recruited mongrels,” the female snarled, approaching from my right, closing their net. “You won’t put up much of a fight, will ya. Not like the other FA bitch we cut up.”

  I licked my lips and swallowed. “By order of the Fae Authority, you are hereby under arrest. Any resistance will be met with deadly force.”

  They glanced at one another and chuckled.

  Yeah, laugh it up, you have no idea these next few minutes will be your last.

  “You’re not very bright, are you mongrel?” The leader of the pack moved closer. He had a gaunt face made sharper by the pull of a short ponytail. “We don’t care about the FA rules. Not anymore.”

  In the calm settling in my head, I considered how best to cut through them. Ponytail would lunge first, but he’d miss and find my dagger in his gut before he could blink. That’s how it would start. The female would be next, she’d back up her mate, but the one at the back, he’d—

  Reign leaned in the doorway as casually as though he’d been there all along. His smile was a sly sideways tilt of his lips, and mischief danced in his eyes. He might look perfectly normal if not for the buckled boots coupled with a three-quarter-length coat. Artfully disheveled.

  Ponytail was talking, saying something about how he’d enjoy cutting up my uniform. I slid my gaze back to him. “I’m sorry, I got bored. Did you say something?”

  He spat various obscenities and then sprang. The killing calm fell over me, the part that detaches all the doubts and concerns. Ponytail’s blade skimmed my waist, but mine punched home, deep into his gut. “Surprise.” I snatched his ponytail and held him rigid while his warm blood spilled over my fingers. I should kill him. By his own admission, he’d killed one of the FA. He deserved it. But by that definition, so did I.

  “I wouldn’t piss Alina off.” Reign’s luscious voice, that alluring combination of purr and growl, echoed about the foyer, stopping the female fae’s approach in her tracks. “She’s more than she looks.”

  The change in my attackers was instant. The remaining male ran for the door. Reign snagged his coat, yanked him back off his feet and slammed him to the floor. The female froze, and hunkered down, making herself small and submissive.

  Reign’s catch spluttered and begged, “Don’t hurt me—please. By Faerie, please.” He lifted his hands, as though he could somehow fend Reign off.

  I yanked the blade from ponytail’s gut and shoved him back toward Reign and the door. Clutching his wound, he took one look at Reign and stumbled out the door. The female scrambled after him, giving Reign a wide berth. Their combined fear was so palpable I could almost smell it. They knew who he was—what he was.

  Reign stepped aside and watched the fae he’d planted into the floor practically crawl out the door. “You could have killed them,” he said, his back to me, still watching the door.

  I sheathed my daggers and wiped my bloodied hand on my thigh. “I should have. They’d have killed me.”

  “They’d have tried.” He turned and approached me in a way not dissimilar to the prowling fae. Slow, deliberate. “Red and black suits the new you.” The way he said it though, there was double meaning there. A hint of irony. Nerves fluttered low, not because of him, at least so I told myself, but because I’d run my prey down and didn’t get my payoff. And I was hungry. So damn hungry.

  Reign rode his gaze over every inch of me and made no attempt to hide the appraisal. “FA all the way, huh?” He circled behind me, his gaze invasive, and equally hungry. “Not much left of the American Girl. It didn’t take long.”

  “What didn’t?”

  “For the FA to control you.”

  “They don’t control me.”

  “No …” He stood in front of me now, and peered deep into my eyes. “No, I see that they don’t.”

  I couldn’t deal with this, with him. Not right now. Samuel would be close. If he discovered me with Reign, I’d lose his trust. I should leave, move around Reign and just walk away. But I didn’t move. “Where have you been?”

  “Wherever I wanted to be, American Girl.” He shrugged and backed up, spreading his arms. “Living the dream, right? Or should that be the nightmare? I’m not entirely sure anymore.”

  Something was off. His words were slow and lazy, like his pace. His gaze wandered, his focus wavering. “Are you drunk?”.

  “Drunk? No, I don’t think so. Ask me another one.” He kicked his way through the discarded tools and debris of the renovations work.

  Irritation pulled at my p
atience, unraveling it. “Draíocht?”

  “Ah, that I cannot deny.” He pointed a finger. “So sharp with the questions.”

  “Reign, for God’s sake. Are you trying to bring the FA down on you?”

  His smile tucked into his cheek. “Like I said, let them try. Kael knows where I am, he can try me any time. I’ll happily chew him up and spit him out, and the general knows it too. He’s afraid of me. They’re all—afraid—of—me.”

  “You know what’s happening?”

  “The packs of fae, the lytch, the construct? Yeah, I know.” He didn’t sound as though he cared at all. High on draíocht, maybe he didn’t. He’d only ever cared for himself, anyway, so why should that change?

  “I could have done with you being around.”

  “Why? It’s not like you need me. Right? Isn’t that what you said?”

  “Oh, get over yourself already. There’s more happening here. What about the tunnels? And Under? Did you trash the place? Did you have anything to do with the lytch escaping?”

  He scowled, a deep-cutting expression. “Always with the damn questions, Alina.”

  “Shay? She needs you.”

  His snarl twitched. “Shay needs to open her eyes.”

  This wasn’t like him. It had to be the draíocht messing with his head. “Reign, you can’t be like this. You’re too dangerous.”

  “Dangerous, mmm …” He ambled toward me and reached for my face, but I batted his hand away. When he reached again, he caught my chin and pulled me forward. “What’s dangerous is Kael sinking his teeth into the construct. You think he doesn’t know exactly what you are? Exactly what you could be? Arachne was his savior. She lives in you. What does that make you to him? An ally or a weapon?”

  So he did know Arachne possessed me. He’d known all along. The disgust on Reign’s face turned my stomach and twisted my fears. I freed a dagger and pressed it against his ribs. “Let me go.”