City of Fae (24 page)

“You need to find Reign, help him. If you’re like her, you might be able to control his hound, maybe even cure him of it.”

“Shay, besides the fact I’m locked up, I don’t understand what I am.”

“Please …”

“I don’t know how.”

“Try,” she whispered. “You must try.”

I
must try
to get out of this cell. Climbing to my feet, I walked its edges, kicked at the stones, and toed through the debris. Maybe I could help Reign,
maybe
I could somehow tame the hound, but none of it mattered unless I could escape.

“Reign wanted to kill her,” Shay said. “He tried, but as fae, he’s weaker than she is. As the hound … He can’t control the hound at all, but the queen can weave draíocht, manipulate it, she draws the hound out of him. I don’t think she likes to do it though; the hound frightens even her.”

“Yeah, we sorta figured that summoning part out.” Shay didn’t need to know how our kiss had brought his beast to the surface. I kicked at the bricks. There was no getting through them. The bars at one end of my cell were the weak link, but that wasn’t saying much. I gave each bar an experimental tug. None budged.

“You’re wearing his coat …” She waited for an explanation and when it became clear I had no intention of answering, she said, “We were in love.” She paused. “Once. Did he tell you how the hound came to him?” A thread of regret teased through her words.

It hurt to think of him with her. I did feel for him. I worried if he was okay. I couldn’t bear to think of him battling his secret alone. I wanted to hug the smug son of a bitch and hit him; I wasn’t sure which first. If the Trinity Law meant anything for me, if I could have been bespelled, I’d have been well and truly fae fucked by now. “We haven’t exactly talked about the hound.”

“Cu Sith, the hound, manifests the first time when the carrier, or something he loves, is threatened. Reign knew the risks, and he consciously avoided any situation wherein he might incur the wrath of the hound, but then the war came.” Her voice caught. “Battle changed him. I knew what he was capable of, but … a part of him died in those clashes. When we lost, our enemies came for those who stayed behind, the young and the old. They slaughtered so many. Reign … He came back for me. He saved hundreds. Killed more. But in doing so he sacrificed part of himself to the hound. I tried to bring him back, to tame him, but his bloodline’s curse, the spirit of Cu Sith, cannot be tamed. Not by me. He lost his control. Only the queen could bring him to heel. He owes her his current freedom, and he despises her for it. She dragged him here with her when the elders cast her out of Faerie. And I came … I came because …”

Because she loved him. It was in her voice, her words, her gaze when she’d looked at Reign. “I’m sorry, Shay.”

“After the hound claimed him, we drifted apart. He’s never said he blamed me, but I see it in his eyes.”

I didn’t understand the world the fae had come from, their rules or way of life or what it must have felt like to have the man she loved turn away from her. Shay and Reign had a lifetime’s worth of history. And there I was, wearing Reign’s coat. I felt unworthy. “When we get out, will you tell me more about Faerie and Reign?”

“I’d like that. So many don’t like to talk about home, but I do.”

If
we got out. As much as I willed the lock to open, unsurprisingly, it didn’t. I guessed psychic powers weren’t in a construct’s blueprints. With a growl, I kicked the bars. “Damn it … This wasn’t how it was meant to go down.” Hands laced in my hair, I scanned the ceiling for anything … anything at all. A dust-covered web in the top left-hand corner drew my eye. Shivers trickled through me.
She’s watching.

***

Tiny scratching flutters sprinkled from my hairline, over my eye and down my cheek. I woke with a cry and batted the scurrying thing away, only to find a carpet of arachnids inside my cell. “Oh …
spiders
.”

“Spiders?” Shay groaned, groggy from sleep.

“There are spiders in here.”

“Crush them. They will be hers.”

Crush them. Right. On my ass, pressed back against the bars, they’d almost perfectly encircled me, leaving an inch of no-man’s-land between us. “Um …” They hardly moved. Some scurried at the back, and beyond, more tumbled from the bricks into my cell. “I, uh, I don’t think squashing one or two is going to help. It might aggravate them.”

“How many are there?”

“A few thousand?”

“Oh. What are they doing?”

Not a great deal. “Watching.”

“That’s unusual.”

“Shay, they’d have eaten me by now, if they wanted to right?”

“Spiders would usually pin their victims down, inject a poison to liquefy their victim’s insides, wrap them in silk, and store them for later.”

“You’re not helping.”

“You did ask.”

“What on earth am I supposed to do?”

“Perhaps talk to them. You are part queen, they may recognize her draíocht in you. There is a chance you can control them, like she does.”

Right. Talk to them. “Uh, hi.” This was absurd. A few at the front surged forward. With a yelp, I pulled my legs back. “Okay, um … Let’s talk about this. I, uh, I need to get out of this cell, and you lovely,
lovely
spiders look to be really agile and my friend says you might listen, because I’m the queen’s, like you, and I really need to get out of this cell …” To my left, spiders spiraled up a few bars. More joined, until a steady stream poured over the posts. They were organized, like those in the
Metro
offices. Several of the little critters disappeared inside the lock mechanism, and then, almost too easily, the lock clicked open. Perhaps I had hidden talents, like Reign, but my talent consisted of an affinity with spiders.

Careful not to make any sudden movements, I wobbled to my feet and reached out a hand. The spiders shied away, allowing me to grip the bar and shove. The door swung open. “Oh, you were right, Shay, this really is unusual,” I muttered, stepping gingerly around the spiders as they spilled out of my cell.

“Spiders …” Shay said, and took a calming breath. “Oh my.”

Throat dry, I gulped. “This isn’t normal.”

“No. That is not at all normal. Will they open my door?”

I asked the blanket of spiders at my feet, feeling like a fool as I did, but they just rippled and shivered away from Shay’s cell, toward the main door.

“I will be fine. Go,” Shay urged, “They are helping, this is good. Use them. If you can control them, there is hope you can control the hound.”

“Okay.” The river of spiders flowed toward the closed main door. “Right. So, plan B it is then.”

“Alina …” Shay gripped the bars and peered at me with wide, hopeful eyes. A few drops of blood from the cut at her neck had spoiled the white lace dress. Maybe, once I was gone, she’d find a way to make it work with Reign. “Stop her.”

“That’s plan B.”

I had no idea why a small swarm of spiders had decided to latch onto me, but as long as we were on friendly terms, I was happy to have them tag along.

Shoving open the main door, the FA guard posted outside had time to launch himself to his feet and draw a short sword before the spiders poured over him. I watched, caught somewhere between morbid fascination and horrified revulsion. They dove in through his mouth, ears, and nose and burrowed into his eyes. He collapsed in seconds, limbs twitching beneath the blanket of writhing arachnids. Had they attacked me in my cell, I didn’t doubt for a second I’d have ended up like him.

“Okay, team …” But they trickled away, spilling into nooks and crannies between tiles and concrete blocks. In less than a minute, they’d gone, their countless legs had pattered blood around the mess that remained of the FA guard. Cringing, trying to keep my stomach from lurching, I bent down and plucked the fae’s sword free of the fleshy mess that had once been his hand.
Mental note: Don’t mess with the spiders
.

The short sword appeared to be more functional than fancy. Weighted well, I gave it a whirl. Yes, this would do nicely. It felt right at home to be brandishing a blade.

“Why do you wish to hurt me? I created you …”

“I’m coming … bitch.” With each step she worked on the thread in my mind, attempting to weave her magic through my thoughts, but it wasn’t working. And it wouldn’t work.
There’s more to you than her will.
Reign was right. I was Alina. A sparkling thrill surged through my veins, a power all my own.

“How did you escape?”

Fae Authority. Female. Black and red. I lunged lightning fast. She had enough time to reach for her blades before I plunged the sword through her chest. She blinked down at me, tiny little Alina O’Connor, in her human look-alike flesh, and even though her blood poured over my hand and bubbled from her lips, she couldn’t quite believe this pitiful human girl could kill her. She died not believing it. Wrenching the sword free, and wiping the blade on my pink leggings, I snatched her dagger and walked on, thoughts unerringly calm. They thought the queen was the nightmare beneath London, but she wasn’t the only one. Dagger in my left hand, sword in my right, head clear, I’d never been more comfortable in my skin. I was made for this. A vicious smile hooked into my lips. They were all going to die down here. And once I was done with them, I’d face my mother.

That part of me, the part made from purpose alone, clicked into place and settled right where it belonged. Complete, I stalked the tunnels, still me, still Alina, but something else too, something more: vengeance and absolution, like the blades in my hands. When the FA burst from the tunnels and came at me, I looked through them, seeing only my purpose. Faster, I let the blades talk for me. Potent draíocht surged in my veins. All I had to do was allow it. I cut the FA down, one after another, and with each death, the old draíocht breathed new life into my manufactured body. I drew it in from the fallen fae, like drawing breath into my lungs. Human, I was not. But these fae weren’t kin either. I was something else entirely. Something built for a single, terrible purpose.

“You will not stop her.” I recognized that voice from the night I’d met Reign. The general’s stilted words summoned me back from the killing frenzy. I straightened, rolled my shoulders, cracked my neck and turned. Blood dripped from my fingers and streamed down the blades. The sickly metallic smell of blood and gore hung in the air. I stood at the center of a massacre of my own making. Somewhere inside my mind the voice of sanity screamed, but I silenced it.

The general stood between me and the iron door to the queen’s reservoir. “You can’t stop
me
.”

His storm-gray eyes narrowed to slits. “Foolish girl. This”—he gestured at the bodies—“just delays the inevitable.”

I spread my arms. “You see me now, don’t you, General? You see what I am. And I’ve come for her.” I pointed the dagger over his shoulder at the closed door beyond.

His thin smile flickered. “She has excelled herself with you.”

“She failed. I’m the result. Now get out of my way, or die like the others.”

“You’re perfect.”

No, I was not letting him undermine me. This was my doing. I got this far. Me, and only me. With a snarl, I stepped around a body, readied my stance, blades gripped tightly, and beckoned him closer. “C’mon, General. You’ve wanted to kill me since you first laid eyes on me in that train car.”

His blades hissed as he freed them. “If I did, it was because I thought you inadequate.” We circled. “I was mistaken—”

I lunged. Swords clashed. Alien strength poured steel into muscle and fire into my mind. I drove him back, but he ducked and twisted, cracking the pommel of his short sword into my neck. With a grunt, I hit the wall, but instantly spun and ducked. His blade chimed as it hit the stone where my head had been a second before. He was quick too. Quicker than I was. Slashing the dagger wide, it kissed his thigh. He grunted a curse and swung a brutal punch into my jaw. I reeled away, swallowing blood.
Must stay on my feet … Must stay upright …
His blades glinted, coming at me from all sides. I blocked, parried, blocked … Back and back he drove me. Metal shrieked. My strikes did get through, but it wasn’t enough.
C’mon … He’s mine. I can do this.

“He will kill you, sweet thing.”

No, no … I couldn’t let her in. Not now. Not when I was so close to … What? Why … why was I doing this? Why was I here?

The general slammed me into the door. My skull smacked against the iron. A cry shot from me. Sparks blurred my vision. I could not let him win. The dark in his eyes swirled as he crowded close, forearm lodged under my chin, pinning me still. He panted hard, spittle dashing my cheek. “That’s it, Construct. Listen well. She calls, doesn’t she … ? Listen to her voice. Do as she says. It was what you were designed for.”

“Kill him. You want to. Prove you can. And come to me. Our time is now. We are ready.”

“She’s telling me to kill you.”

He faltered, eyes widening, and eased back. “No. She would not. I am her servant.”

“Oh yes.” I thrust my knee up between his, and impacted hard enough for him to bark a cry and let go. One strike, I whipped the
sword between us. He danced back, light and quick, and lunged, slamming all of his formidable form into me. I got my arms around him, and scraped my dagger along his ribs, tearing through his leathers. He had me, but I had him. Teeth bared, I bit down on his neck, desperate to get him off me. But his strength outmuscled mine. He punched his blade forward. The blow landed like hot steel in my gut and the melee abruptly ceased. Breath whooshed out of me.
I should be pushing him off,
but I clung to him. The tunnel blurred, colors mixing, swirling, and a cool numbness wrapped around my chest. My strength bled away; the rage and madness, oddly quiet. He’d stabbed me. Locked together, we sank to our knees. He cradled an arm around me as the empty darkness closed in; the embrace oddly tender.

“No, no … !”

Black anger, as thick as oil, poured into my mind. The queen raged, and behind the door, her wretched scream rose up. “She is mine!”