City of Fae (15 page)

Venturing into the living room, I found Andrews standing in front of the TV, his back to me, watching the news, and I caught a glimpse of the period Kensington townhouses where Reign lived. “Hey …”

He flicked the TV off. “The FA have announced they’ve called-off the search for Sovereign. Seems they always get their man.”

“Oh.” Regret and fear must have shown on my face. I pinched them back behind a scowl, hoping Andrews wouldn’t notice. He did, of course. His eyes narrowed. Andrews was too astute to be fooled by my woeful attempt at lying.

“Miles called.”

“Miles?” I blinked.

“Detective Miles, my colleague. He’s dropping by to grab some paperwork.”

“Oh yes …” I reached for the back of the couch, needing something to keep me upright in case my legs gave out. The FA had Reign. What would they do to him? Keep him in Under? Worse? What would the queen do to him?

“Miles said the FA are looking for a woman, the same woman seen with Sovereign at a Mile End café. Would you happen to know who she might be?”

Oh God.
Dragging that sorry smile across my lips I desperately tried to appear unruffled. And failed. “I thought you said you had a day off from detecting?”

“Police officers are always on the job.” He said it with a gentle smile, not entirely serious. “I have a responsibility to hand you in, but I won’t, at least not yet. I don’t answer to the FA. I want to hear from you what happened.”

I eased myself around the couch and dropped onto the edge of the cushion. “Maybe I should start from the beginning?”

“Seems like as good a place as any.”

I told him everything. Finding Reign near death on the platform, the fight with the general on the subway, the spiders in the printer room, the trip to Under, the queen, Reign’s apartment, omitting certain heated details. How the Fae Authority had barged in, and how I’d run away. Everything, while neglecting to mention how I’d stabbed two of the fae cops, or how I’d definitely seen the lick of green vapor spiraling from my fingers, or how my thoughts had sharpened, turned deadly. No, those details were my secrets to keep.

“The Keepers.” Andrews repeated. “That’s what links the three dead fae. We knew there had to be a connection. They’re the originators of the Fae Authority?” I nodded. “No wonder the FA have their knickers in a twist.” He sat next to me on the couch, his gaze jumpy as he worked through everything I’d told him.

“I think their deaths have more to do with the queen than their link with the Fae Authority.”

“The queen.” He frowned, more sympathy than disapproval. “And she’s … under London?”

“I know it sounds crazy.”

“Where under London exactly?”

“I don’t know. The place she’s trapped is a forgotten underground reservoir, not far from Chancery Lane, I guess. Reign took me there, but the tunnels all look the same. It’s one of those Victorian relics. It’ll be on a map, somewhere. And the queen, she was …” Words failed me. “She was horrible. I mean, she had these legs, and she sorta hissed, and …” He didn’t believe me, but he was trying his hardest to look as if he did. No matter what I said, I was never going to convince him, or anyone. Monsters didn’t exist. “You think I’m bespelled. That I’m hallucinating or something?”

He hesitated before answering, which was all the answer I needed. “How many times has he touched you?”

I closed my eyes and dropped back into the couch cushions. This was what I’d feared would happen. The fae couldn’t possibly have a nightmare for a queen. They’re too beautiful. Too perfect. The fact I was loopy was far more believable. “A few times …”

“How many?”

“Three. No, four.” When he’d taken my draíocht, when he’d taken me to Under, when I’d kissed him on the rooftop, and when we’d kissed and he’d deliberately taken my draíocht in his apartment right before I’d slapped him. I was losing count, and that was bad.

“That’s more than enough for him to have bespelled you.”

It was. I opened my eyes and turned my head to find Andrews watching me with something like pity on his face.

His lips turned down. “Do you feel for him?” he asked gently.

I couldn’t answer, at least not truthfully.

“Alina …” He sighed through his nose. “Do you love him?”

“No.”
No, no, really, really no.
“I’m not in that deep.” The pity was still there, pooling in his eyes. Surprisingly, anger simmered in my gut. How dare he pity me! I was not Reign’s pet, not yet. “Look, I know how it sounds, how it looks, but I’m not his.”

Andrews rested an arm over the back of the couch and briefly averted his gaze. “That’s what Becky, my sister, said. My brother and I,” he shook his head, “we did everything to help her. Tried to wean her off the fae who bespelled her, got her checked into the clinic. And when she convinced us she was clean, we believed her.” His eyes clouded, his gaze drifting to the framed photo on the mantelpiece. “I’ve not seen her for six months.”

I threaded my fingers through my hair, drawing it back from my face and sucked in a deep breath. “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah.” Sadness settled in his eyes. “She’s my little sister; I’m meant to look out for her. It’s worse for my brother; we, er, we don’t talk much these days.” Andrews seemed to catch himself revealing too much and straightened, turning serious. He looked like the detective who’d sat on my couch and grilled me about Reign. His work, the detective persona, was his armor. “What they do, it’s the perfect seduction. You don’t know you’re caught until it’s too late.”

I couldn’t argue with him, not when he’d already been through it. He was right. Reign had said if he’d wanted me, he’d have caught me already. Apparently, he had. But, I
wasn’t
bespelled. I wasn’t losing my mind to the fae. It was real. Wasn’t it? What if I
hadn’t
stabbed them? What if I
had
hallucinated it? There was no denying Reign had touched me too many times. The facts said I
should
have been bespelled. I bowed my head and looked at my hands clasped in my lap. “Did your sister hallucinate?” I asked quietly.

“Before we checked her into the clinic, she was barely coherent. I don’t think she could tell what was real and what wasn’t.”

Oh God. Was I going insane? I racked my mind, going over the dozens of victims I’d interviewed. Some talked as though it was torture, others had spoken of their bespellment like it was a dream, a wonderful dream that swallowed reality and kept them pliable while their fae master drained them of their draíocht again and again.

“It’s all right, Alina.” Andrews’s gentle voice made it sound like it really was. “It’s not too late.”

I shook my head and bit my lip, hating how tears blurred my vision. What was more believable? A spider queen under London, plotting her escape; fae magic wafting from my fingers; or that Reign had touched me too many times and I was merely falling into his web of desire. A cool tear slipped down my cheek. I’d seen women like me, women in denial. Men too. Convinced they’d not been caught. So damn sure they had everything under control. Until they didn’t.

Andrews rested a hand on my shoulder. Such a simple gesture. But it broke through my attempts to fight off the fear and guilt, and revealed exactly how messed up I was. Tears fell. I couldn’t stop them. Swiping them away didn’t help; more followed in their tracks. “I … But it feels so real.” Andrews eased an arm around my shoulders and drew me against him. I tucked my chin in and let him hold me with no fear of the fae’s toxic touch. Eyes closed, I listened to his breathing and welcomed his resilient warmth. He was real. This was real.

A knock at his door interrupted us. Andrews drew back, his face so forgiving. He’d lost his sister, and there I was, wandering down the same road as her. It wasn’t fair. He brushed a thumb across my cheek, wiping away the tears. The brush of his touch warmed my face. There was a moment, just a second, when the closeness meant something more. I saw it in his eyes, saw the flicker of recognition, saw his lips part. But the moment vanished as quickly as it came. He must have realized how close we were and the professional in him shuttered away his emotions. He dropped his gaze and pulled away. I could have stayed like that, would have liked to have him hold me, just a little longer.

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.

“I’m sorry, Alina. I am. We’ll get you help.”

“No, Andrews please. You don’t understand. He wants this.” I bucked, and struggled but Andrews had me pinned.

Miles climbed to his feet, shaking blood from his hand. Rivulets of red dribbled over his lips and dripped from his chin. He grinned, teeth bloody. “She’s right. I do work for the queen.”

Andrews never saw the right hook coming. Miles struck him hard, throwing him to the floor. With a groan, Andrews tried to lever himself upright, when Miles kicked him in the stomach. “Stay down, Danny. I don’t wanna hurt you, but I will.” He kicked again, and Andrews collapsed, spluttering blood.

Cuffed, facedown, all I could do was watch. “You son of a—”

Miles fisted a hand in my hair and jerked my head back. A ragged cry burst from me. “You … Shame I can’t enjoy you before I hand you back.”

“Touch me and I’ll kill you.”

“No, you won’t. That’s your problem, Alina. You can’t even carry out simple orders. Is it so hard to kill Sovereign?”

“You’re insane. What are you talking about?”

He shook his head with a dry laugh and licked blood from his lips. “You really are fucked up.”