City of Shadows (19 page)

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 patience, 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.”

“They're liars. All of them.” Being now almost pressed face-to-face, the tips of his canine teeth seemed sharper. I pushed the blade harder. He flinched but wouldn't back down. “They will use the ugly and the wrong in you.” He leaned in close, too close. His lips brushed mine, and instantly a flood of tingling stole a gasp from my lips. Need slammed reason out of the way. I slanted my mouth across his and kissed him deep. His hand fell away, curled around my back and yanked me hard against him.
No, no, no, this can't happen.
But it was, and he tasted divine. It wasn't a kiss, but an assault, and I was in control.
Draíocht
simmered beneath my skin, itching to escape, and the power in him swelled. I could feel the pressure, pushing down and in.
More. I need more.
He tried to pull back—a moment of indecision, a weakening—but I chased his retreat, caught his attempt at denial, and crushed it behind the savage need.

He broke free and slammed his palms into my chest, shoving me back. His eyes bled red, and the fear on his face summoned a smile on mine. I had him. I could
feel
the beast lurking inside, pacing its cage. And I could free it.

“Don't,” Reign whispered.

Summon it, control it, take it.
I had to know.

“Don't, Alina. Please.” He staggered backward. “Let go. You can let me go. Please.”

Free the hound.

Reign
made it outside the building and down the steps before falling to his knees. In the dark of the building site, hidden behind the construction site panels, swirling green vapor licked around his prone figure. His body heaved as he fought to breathe through his waning control. But I had his reins now, and with just a twitch, the beast would come.

“Alina! Don't do this to me,” he said, panting, and then let out a cry, tremors rolling through him.

Something came out of the shadows and hit me in the side like a battering ram. In the next second, I was facedown in the dirt with a knee in my back, pain throbbing in my chest.

“Stay down,” Samuel growled. “You feel the blade?” I could. Cool. Hard against my neck. “Focus on that. Just that. And know I will cut you should the hound manifest. Understand?”

Samuel's weight shifted but kept me pinned. It seemed like forever I lay there, the blade an ever-present threat. I'd released Reign the second I'd been knocked off my feet. I couldn't see or hear him, just my own breathing and Samuel's.

“I'm going to let you up. Sovereign isn't here. Do not go looking for him. Attack me and I will respond in kind.”

Guilt twisted inside; so heavy, and heartfelt, that all I could do was sob. “I didn't mean to attack him. I didn't know. I didn't want to, but it felt right, so right. To be strong. It felt good. So good, Samuel. I wanted it. I still want it.” I didn't realize I'd spoken aloud, or that Samuel had pulled me close. I just knew that Reign was right. Inside, I was ugly and wrong, and if I couldn't control it, I'd hurt him.

Chapter Sixteen

I lined up the dagger with the target and threw it again, for about the hundredth time in the past however long Samuel had been barking orders at me. It punched home but missed the center—where I'd been aiming—by a good couple of inches.

“Again!” he snapped, standing proud in his FA colors, arms crossed and face impassive, but he didn't hide the anger simmering in his eyes, as it had since he'd stopped me from summoning the hound several nights ago. I wasn't sure how much of my conversation with Reign he'd seen or heard, but enough if that angry glare was anything to go by. So much for earning Samuel's trust. We'd barely spoken since. I was fairly certain he was pissed at me in every way possible. We had that in common, since I was pissed at me too. If the hound had gotten loose in public, the blame would fall on the FA for not having already caught the beast. The fragile peace between the fae and the people of London could have easily been shattered. And all because I couldn't control myself around Reign.

I threw the second dagger. It hit handle first and bounced back, skidding toward me. “It's the weight, they're too heavy for throwing.” I swept my hair back, swiping at the stubborn strands clinging to my face, and pulled my tank top away from my clammy skin.

Samuel scooped the dagger up, yanked my other failure free of the dummy, and threw the two blades at the target to my right. Naturally, both hit home, virtually dead center.

“Again,” he said.

I missed, and spat a curse.

“
Again.”

“I'm sick of this.” Marching toward the target I shot him a snarl. “I'm sick of this place, I'm sick of Kael avoiding me, and I'm sick of you barking orders.”

“Again,” he growled, low and deadly enough to trickle shivers down my back.