City of Shadows Read online

  “Hey.” My dislike of heights kept me a few feet behind him, but close enough to see the seriousness etched into his face. He turned his head toward the vast Ferris wheel—the London Eye. “You okay?” I asked. “You missed the pep talk.”

  “It’s no joke, Alina.”

  My smile faded. “I know.” I ventured a little closer, just enough for him to be able to glance over his shoulder at me.

  “You don’t. I was young when the elders purged us from Faerie.” He smiled, but it was a cruel, ironic smile, part snarl. “They killed so many, searching for peace by making war.” He paused, a painful frown sharpening his features, likely from the memories. “Hundreds died, fighting for their right to stay. Our young. Our old. Friends. Family. The Hunt came, rounded us up like beasts, slaughtered the weakest in front of us. That fear, it’s …” He looked down, breaking away from my gaze. “We couldn’t escape the cut of their blades.”

  I wanted to help him, to say the right thing, but I wasn’t sure how. What could I possibly say or do to make right what had been done to them? Nothing. Perhaps that was all I need do: nothing. Just listen.

  I stepped closer, close enough that I could have slipped my hand in his. I wouldn’t though. If I tried it, I’d probably end up facedown with his knee in my back.

  He turned his face back to London but the city’s lights still glittered in his eyes. “We didn’t know what awaited us here. We had our own myths about Taerra as you have myths about Faerie. Those myths weren’t inviting. We fought with blade, with teeth, and claw. With everything we had. It wasn’t enough. Only the Three Spirits combined can temper the elders.”

  “Kael mentioned that an elder could weave a path to Faerie.”

  He cast his gaze toward London, his smile sad and knowing, but I knew that look, his thoughts were another world away. “Fae blood is rich with life. Old blood, the bloodlines of families who can trace their heritage back to the time of the Reckoning, they are … different. Draíocht is more a part of them than any other fae. They’re able to harvest it, take it into them, manipulate and weave it, as though it’s a tangible substance. Those fae, we call them elders.”

  He spoke as though in awe, but I knew by now that nothing in Faerie was heroic. Everything there was out to destroy and devour.

  A breeze carried with it the hum of traffic and a distant siren. This world wasn’t like theirs. “So beautiful, you’d cry tears of blood. So enticing, you’d sacrifice everything you’ve ever loved to stay one more day,” Reign had told me, both afraid of his world and in awe of it.

  There’s no place like home. A part of me knew that feeling of coming home and ached to go back. It didn’t matter that I’d never seen it, breathed its air, Faerie was a part of me, the same as it was a part of all the fae exiled here.

  “We—the fae—we don’t belong here,” Samuel said softly. “It takes great courage to move forward when all around you holds you back. We could make it work, but I fear it’s coming apart.”

  I held his gaze, looked deep into his tricolored eyes and really knew him, as he knew me. Outsiders, looking in. For all his skill and prowess, the loneliness ate at him. Inside, we were more alike than I’d realized.

  I swallowed to clear the hitch in my throat. “Do you think the fae—the ones who are trying to open a link back—just want to go home?”

  He considered my words for a few moments, turning his gaze once again to London and her sprawling patchwork of old and new. Long evening shadows played on his face and darkened his eyes, eyes that studied the city as though searching for answers along its jagged horizon. “No, there’s more to it. If we were to return, the elders, the harpy, they would kill us. Taerra has us scattered and divided. This world has softened us, made us weak. If we were to ever go back, we’d have to be strong. Stronger than this world allows for. We’d need more draíocht than can be found here, and an army behind us.”

  “Then why meddle with Faerie at all?”

  He smiled at the city. “You have Arachne within you. You must know there’s only one reason to risk the ire of the elders.”

  What I knew of Arachne just told me she’d fought the harpy and Cu Sith, that all three wanted to rule, but none could. Perhaps Arachne, like all fae, wanted to be recognized. The London fae weren’t ever going to be satisfied living in the dark. They wanted their freedom back, and more. “Reinforcements?”

  He nodded. “They—whoever is doing this—want to prove to the elders that we didn’t die here. Quite the opposite. We’re alive, and … ” he trailed off, his gaze finding me once more, but this time a fresh hunger glittered in those amethyst eyes.

  “And what?”

  “The fae could control this city, this land, and its people.”

  The general had spoken as though this was the work of a few individuals. Samuel spoke as though the fae all wanted the same thing: to rule. “That’s a big leap.”

  “Is it? You know what it’s like out there; the fae aren’t going to be pushed into the shadows. The queen’s death was the catalyst. It’s inevitable.”

  The icy nip of the breeze sprinkled gooseflesh across my skin. “The FA will stop it.”

  “Will we?” He pulled his hand from his pocket and held out a crumpled piece of paper. I took it, unfolded it, and read the neat, tightly packed handwriting:

  Their laws are laughable. Love isn’t the worst we can do. Their minds are pliable in our hands. We twist their dreams, distort their desires, make them ours. At least now they look upon us with deserved respect, albeit born of fear and suspicion. Control the fae, no more free-roaming rights, no more positions of power. We, the Fae Authority, agree to these conditions; they appear to need reassurance to keep the masses calm. Their contracts are as worthless as the paper they’re written on. We do not follow their laws, but we’ll pretend to … for now. The pitiful humans of this forgotten world cannot fathom the danger waiting in the dark, seeking the light. We’ve been buried too long. The death of the queen is proof enough. We cannot live among them, on their level. Such a notion is folly. This leaves only one solution. Rule them, as the gods we are. They will worship whether they want to or not. There is no choice for them to make. We take their choices from them. We own them. Our time is now.

  “Who wrote it?” Dread hollowed out my insides, letting the cold rush in, along with a memory, “London isn’t ready for the truth.”

  Samuel didn’t reply; he didn’t need to. “For the first time since I ran from the Hunt, I have no idea what to do.” He turned away from the edge and strode toward the fire exit.

  “Wait.” I followed. “We can’t let this go. You know that, right?”

  He stopped at the door, hand on the handle. “Alina, Kael is …” Samuel’s shoulders slumped. “You have to understand. He saved me.”

  I reached for Samuel’s arm. He turned at my touch and looked down at me, not with disdain or frustration, but with concern, those brilliant eyes muted by weariness.

  “He’s dangerous,” I said.

  “Kael has saved all of us in the FA. He gave us purpose when there was nothing left. We’d give our lives and follow him into Magh Meall if he asked us to.”

  Magh Meall—the underworld, my memories supplied. “You’d follow a man with dubious morals, who’s killed hundreds of his own men on the battlefield, to your death?”

  Anger flashed in Samuel’s eyes. He brushed my hand away. “He’s made mistakes, as have we all.”

  “This isn’t a mistake. It’s intent. Kael knows exactly what he’s doing. Mistakes? I’ve never heard anything so ridiculous in my life. You’d think after a few hundred years you’d know better. Granted, I’ve not been around for long, but still. That little note is practically a confession. He wants to rule the people here. And you’re just going to go along with it, because he says so?”

  “There’s no evidence he’s put into action any of what he’s written. If anything, he’s doing everything he can to stop the unrest.”

  No evidence, but plenty o
f suspicion. “How did you get this?”

  He threw his gaze toward the amber-tinged evening skies.

  “Where, Samuel?”

  “Tucked into the planner in his desk. I saw it when you were looking for your daggers.”

  “Then there’s no doubt.” I folded the note and tucked it into my pocket. “And it’s not the only thing he’s guilty of. We have to confront him. If you won’t, I will.” Kael needed to explain the note himself, face-to-face, and he could explain where Becky was too. No more avoidance tactics. No more vague questions. I was getting direct answers from him if I had to hold a knife to his throat to do it.

  I shoved by Samuel, but he caught my arm, jolting me to a halt.

  “Don’t.” That tone was one he used on his FA brethren. An order.

  I bristled and looked down at where his fingers dug in. His grip relaxed but he didn’t let go. “Not yet,” he said softly. “If we call him out with the FA behind him, he’ll order them to take us in. And they will.”

  “Even with you questioning him?”

  “Even with me. You’ve experienced their loyalty firsthand.”

  The beating, the tunnels, yes—I knew what their loyalty felt like. I searched Samuel’s face—the determined press of his lips, the intelligence in his eyes—and the fae desire to touch tingled through my hand, curling my fingers into my palm. Would he turn away from me?

  “I’m not letting this go,” I said through clenched teeth.

  “We wait.” He stepped closer. “And we watch.” Another step.

  Samuel eased his hand up my arm. His touch skimmed my shoulder and then his warm fingers brushed my face. He moved quickly enough to waylay any protest I could muster. “The note doesn’t change anything,” he said, his words soft, whisper-like, and those whispers held hidden promises. “We have streets to patrol. Control and order to maintain. I’m closer to him than any other fae this side of Faerie. He’ll confide in me.”

  His words might have been severe, but the intention in his touch was something else entirely. “It’s clear he’s lying about a lot of things,” I said. While half my thoughts clung onto the severity of Kael’s plans, the other half were already lost in the tingling play of Samuel’s touch and what might happen should he close the small distance between us.

  He tucked my damp hair behind my ear. His fingertips spilled tingles where they brushed my cheek. The fading light scattered in his beautiful fae eyes, lending them an endless depth, the kind you could lose yourself in.

  He eased his fingers into my hair, tilting my head up. “You hide it well, but there’s true beauty in you, Alina. Fae beauty. You’re afraid of it.” He touched his lips to mine, just the lightest of brushes, and whispered, “You don’t need to be afraid, not with me.”

  His words, he couldn’t know how they wrapped around my fears, softening them, until beneath the brush of his lips, I forgot why I was afraid to get close to anyone. With him, it didn’t matter what I was. A single touch wouldn’t send me spiraling into madness, or summon something dark and untamable as it did with Reign. Samuel wanted me, for me. And that was okay. His lips on mine, his hands pulling me against him; I forgot my fears, forgot trying to be something—someone—I wasn’t.

  “Do you still need this?” he whispered, words slightly ragged around their edges.

  “Yes.”

  “Do you want it?” His smile moved against my lips.

  I hooked my arms around his neck and pulled him down into a kiss that would leave no room for doubt. He moved against me, his hands finding places I didn’t know could make me gasp. He came alive beneath my touch, his body moving in a tantalizing combination of hard and soft. He was a different Samuel now. An apex predator tamed beneath my hands. Not the stalwart fae warrior, but someone else, someone who knew the real me. Someone who cared. And my lonely heart broke open.

  A sparkling nighttime London was our backdrop while he discovered all my weaknesses, and teased them with his mouth, his fingers, his tongue. His kisses burned, his touch too, but not from draíocht. My fingers against his warm skin summoned breathless growls. My playing nips earned me the kind of deep, throaty response that had my insides fluttering. I didn’t want him to stop, and for a while, I wasn’t the construct, I wasn’t even Alina. Beneath him, he roused the raw, most basic part of me. I didn’t need a reason. This wasn’t about love. Just need. A pure, simple, uncomplicated need to be a woman. To be alive.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Relentless patrols kept the FA on edge and the general out of sight. Samuel assured me he was doing everything he could to earn Kael’s confidence, but the FA was stretched thin. The next few shifts saw Samuel stepping in to stop what might have turned into a deadly knife fight. I too might have been losing my mind if it hadn’t been for the moments Samuel and I stole between shifts, and between his sheets.

  “You need draíocht,” he said, trailing his fingers down my bare arm, spilling a little cool draíocht in their wake.

  Good shivers skittered low. I tucked my chin into my chest and pulled his arm around me. Tangled together, sheets knotted around us, it seemed nothing else existed in the world. Outside his bedroom, doors slammed and murmuring voices occasionally passed on by. These moments, short-lived as they were, made me forget the chaos unraveling on London’s streets. I could forget a lot of things while held close against him, listening to the steady beat of his heart. I liked forgetting, it made the worry, the doubt, and the fear seem distant.

  “I know. I’ll go to the clinic.”

  He brushed his chin against my shoulder and purred low and deep. The sound of it rumbled through his chest. I smiled and shifted just enough to elicit a deeper growl, the sound I hunted for when I knew I had him. In every way, Samuel was made to entice. He had a body that begged to be touched, a sharp mind, and a deeply delicious wicked streak that spoke to all my inhibitions and tore them right out. I was under no illusions, this wouldn’t last, not least because of the fae spirit I had residing in my temporary soul. But I’d take him—all of him, while I could.

  “Nyx came close to being overwhelmed tonight,” I said, remembering how the gang of fae had descended on us in a Camden parking lot.

  “She’s too quick and smart to ever be overwhelmed.”

  He nipped at my ear, eliciting my own purr. I twisted in his arms and punched him in the shoulder, which didn’t do a damn thing other than prompt him to raise an eyebrow as a challenge. I’d have liked to challenge him. His look told me he’d like it too.

  “My shift starts soon.”

  “Where are you patrolling?”

  “Islington.”

  My latest patrol in Camden had reminded me of the promises I had to keep. Andrews and his sister. “The FA need help.”

  Samuel’s smile was fading, as it often did when I mentioned work. When in his uniform, he wore his role like a second skin. The smiles, the playful glint in his eye. He kept all of that well guarded among the FA. He’d told me the FA didn’t need a friend, they needed a leader.

  “You’re thinking of your policeman friend?” Samuel asked, clearly recognizing where my thoughts were headed.

  “The Met should be involved.”

  “It’s not up to me. And Kael, he’s wary of allowing the police access to our methods.”

  Wary of being found out, more like. “Andrews is with SO-Thirty. Maybe they know something that could help us.”

  “Special Operations don’t know anything. Kael’s made sure of that.”

  “But Andrews is different. It’s not just a job to him, he knows more than most. If I tell him what’s happening, he’ll help.”

  Samuel brushed my hair out of my face, tucked it behind my ear and then spilled his touch down my neck and over my shoulder in a way that had me wishing we had more time.

  “You shouldn’t go back to him,” he said. “Your presence will make his bespellment worse, if he hasn’t already succumbed.”

  And that was the other reason I needed to see him; to know if he w
as okay. It had been weeks since he’d begged me not to leave. He’d have seen the FA on the news, he’d know all about the rise in violence, and of course my apparent heroics during the ogre event. I might not have found Becky, but I could tell him about Under’s catacombs being sealed, about the origin of the ogre. He might be able to help locate the fae who were dabbling with the draíocht.

  “Go to your detective then,” Samuel sighed, recognizing defiance on my face. “Don’t be surprised if he turns you away. You’ve felt that temptation. Imagine it magnified tenfold and you’ll have an idea how the need is eating him up.”

  I knew that. I did. And I knew going back to him would probably destroy whatever shred of friendship we might have had left, but the FA needed help, and Kael was a bastard. It was time to get the people of London involved; that meant the Met’s Fae Special Operations, SO-Thirty. Detective Danny Andrews would have helped before. He’d want to help now.

  Samuel trailed his fingers lower. A curious curl of a smile tilted across his lips. “I have approximately thirty minutes before my patrol.” He bowed his head, watching where his fingers traveled along my arm. The hooded, hungry focus in his eyes when he trawled his gaze back to me had all the hallmarks of a predator’s gaze, one locked on his prey. The hunt was on.

  My cell rattled on the bedroom shelf. I scooped it up on my way out of the door and answered the unknown number as I strode down the FAHQ’s halls.

  “Alina, you need to come. It’s Reign,” Shay said, words rushed and breathless.

  “Hold on …” I headed out the main entrance door, careful to check the lit windows for any twitching drapes. Nobody was watching. “Go on.”