City of Shadows (31 page)

Chapter Twenty-Five

The open pathway had gone, as had the flood of draíocht, and the majority of the fae. Those that remained lay startled and forlorn. Distant sirens sounded. A plane rumbled overhead. London. As it should be. Sounding dull and blunt to my ears in the absence of draíocht, but full of life all the same.

Kael strode through the fallen. Fierce determination had shut down his expression. He'd gained a bloodied lip and a slight limp, but neither bothered him. For a few moments I wondered if he might be about to plunge his daggers into
me.
I braced against the ground. He snarled, snatched my elbow, and yanked me to my feet. In my post-draíocht swamped state, I wobbled and considered taking a swing at him for the rough handling, when he turned me around and shoved me toward the Gallery steps.

Blood had crawled its way over the lip of the top step.

“You failed to control the hound,” Kael snarled, his voice riddled with disgust.

Reign sat beside Shay's mangled body, confusion cutting deep into his pale face. He lifted his hand and turned it over, admiring how blood dripped from his fingers. His clothes were remarkably clean, but the pool of blood had crept all around him.

“Reign.” I made it halfway up the steps when his gaze stopped me dead in my tracks. Fear, pain, alarm—all of it flashed in his eyes, but he settled on anger. I felt that look like a physical blow.
Could I have stopped him?

He didn't say anything. Not a word. Just got to his feet, pulled his sodden coat around him and walked away, leaving bloody boot marks in his wake. Silence from him was worse than any words he could throw at me. Silence meant there was nothing left to say.

I did my best. I'd controlled the hound with everything I'd had, but it wasn't enough. All I'd succeeded in was sending Faerie back its monsters while invoking the ire of the harpy. This was Samuel's fault. All of it. I had to find him, make him pay.

“Samuel ran from the Hunt,” I said, turning to face Kael. Remembering how the Hunt had dissolved I quickly scanned the dead and the debris strewn about the square.

“
They aren't here,” Kael said flatly. He'd guarded his expressions, but his hands curled into fists, and when he turned his silvery-eyes on me the truth shone through. This was far from a victory. “If they've remained, they'll find him. He can't run from the Hunt.”

“We need to know for certain.” I made myself lock stares with Kael, to face the consequences. The alternative would be to see Shay's body, and I couldn't look at her.

Kael cast a grim glare across Trafalgar Square to the line of police filing in from the side streets. He clenched his jaw and lifted his chin. “Nyx, go to Tottenham Court Road; there's a chance Samuel returned there. Alina, return to Holland Park. It's the only home he knows. I must attempt to explain this to the human authorities.”

Nyx's glance seemed to reveal my own concerns in the tightening of her eyes. People had died here, not just fae. The residents of London would want answers, they'd want justice. The general would be blamed. And from the resigned weariness on his face, he knew what fate awaited him. He could run, turn around and leave with us, but I was beginning to realize Kael didn't run from his battles.

“Go, both of you,” Kael ordered. “Samuel's drained and exhausted. Find him. Finish this.”

The thirst for vengeance kept me moving forward. I chose not to dwell on Reign's words or the accusations I'd seen in his eyes. I'd find Samuel and I'd hunt him until the draíocht in me faded away.

“We'll stop him.” Nyx growled as we approached the steps leading down into the Underground. She cast one long look over her shoulder toward the general,
and
farther, across the carnage. And she knew, just like I did. London wouldn't forgive this. It was all going to change.

I tightened my grip on my blooded dagger and headed down the steps, into the dark.

I wasn't sure if the unnatural quiet had followed me from Trafalgar or if it had settled in my head. I have no memory of the train journey and walk back to FAHQ. The tears had long ago cooled and dried on my cheeks. The ugly horror of what I'd seen played over and over in my head. Shay was dead. Reign had killed her, but somewhere in that madness I feared I'd given the order.

When I rounded the end of the street into Holland Park, a figure waited on the path outside the grand house the FA called home. The shoulders were soft, the stance loose, and my heart started racing.

“Andrews—”
What are you doing here? Are you insane?
The questions caught in my throat. Light flooded from the lit windows and washed all color from his face, but not his eyes, and those eyes brightened. For a few foolish moments, I thought he might want to see me, and then I remembered I'd dug inside his head and yanked out his self-control. Guilt struck me in the gut, tripping my stride. He couldn't be here. I couldn't deal with him now.

“Alina.” His voice, once so smooth and calming, dragged from his throat, broken and hoarse. “Just listen … Don't turn me away.”

I shook my head and scanned the front entrance to the HQ. The lights blazed but the house was quiet.

“
Is that blood?”

I looked down at myself. Blood had dried on my hand and crusted where I still held the dagger. I'd forgotten I was holding it, and even now didn't want to let go. My cheek itched and my hair clung to my neck. I wasn't sure, but I guessed blood had dried on my face.

Andrews's right hand twitched. He frowned, then tucked his hand deep into his pants pocket. But his face creased with the effort of restraint. How long before he snapped and lunged for me, for
the touch
?

“What's happened?” He stepped forward. “You can talk to me. You know that, right?”

“Leave,” I said, but couldn't find the conviction to make it sound any more than a pathetic plea.

The corner of Andrews's lips lifted into a gentle smile. “I'm getting better.”

“Better?” Becky had had the same soft brown eyes, I realized. Borrowed memories showed me the two of them together. He'd been the one she went to when she needed someone to talk to, not their criminal father, not their older brother, or their absent mother. They'd shared something special, a bond between brother and sister that I'd never really know, and now it was gone.

“Nothing the fae do gets better.” I hadn't meant to snarl, or maybe I had.
I should scare him away for good. Make him go. Make him see the truth.
“The fae can't be changed, Danny. They're all monsters. And so am I.”

“No you aren't.” He said it with all the conviction of the detective I'd once known. I wanted to believe him, to hide in his fantasy. I could. All I need do was slip my hand around his and walk him home. By the time we'd reached his apartment, he'd be lost. I'd spend my days with him, nights too, soaking up his memories as if they were my own, like the parasite I was.

The
dagger felt right in my hands. Perfectly weighted. A part of me. The sharper, deadlier, precise part. This had to end here. For his sake.

“I'm getting help.” Andrews kicked at the curb and laughed a little. And I knew what it was in his eyes. Hope. “I wanted to tell you, to show you in person. Sovereign, he, er … he got me into a great private clinic. I get the impression he's helped a few, in the past …” His smile faltered. “It's going to be okay, Alina.”

Okay? He didn't know about Trafalgar. He hadn't seen what I'd seen. The harpy, the fae, the hound, the killing, the madness. Nothing would be okay again.

“
I'm
going to be okay.” He breathed in and squared his shoulders. “And if I can be saved, then so can my sister. Whoever has her, what they did to her, this clinic … it's expensive … but Reign said he'd help her.”

His lips moved, I heard the words, but the silence I'd been harboring inside my head shattered, and the pain flooded in. “Danny—”

“I know, I wasn't convinced, but I'm here, and it hurts to be this close to you, but I've got it under control, I think—”

“She's dead.”

Time stopped. Between one heartbeat and the next, the bright hope in his eyes dulled. His smile fell away. He tried to keep it—his lips twitched, he even laughed a little—but the truth wouldn't let him lie to himself. “You—” He swallowed. “You know? For certain?”

I nodded. “I'm sorry.”
I could have saved her. Instead, I'd been sleeping with her killer.
The truth clawed at my insides, but I pushed it back, pushed it all back. He could never know.

“How?” He breathed the word, no more than a whisper.

His
eyes glistened. Guilt dug in and twisted my insides into knots. “It wasn't General Kael.” Nausea pooled saliva in my mouth. “There's a fae strong enough to weave a path back to Faerie, and he was … he was collecting people, absorbing their draíocht. Kael said there were signs.” I remembered Reign's file and Samuel's past. Kael had covered it up, thinking he was protecting Samuel's identity. Secrets always found a way to escape. “Becky probably saw Kael, or heard Samuel mention him … ” I stared at the black HQ doors—stared through them—but saw only the memory of Becky's motionless body.

“Samuel?”

When I met Andrews's glare the warmth had drained out of his face, leaving him cold and rigid.

“The fae Sovereign had me run an SO-Thirty-search on?” he asked. “Reign said Samuel was getting close to you for a reason. It was him, wasn't it?” Andrews grabbed my arms and yanked me close. His fingers dug in, hurting, but I let it happen. I couldn't fight him—fight what I'd done to him. “Tell me! You have to tell me who killed her.”

I closed my eyes. Reign's file. Had I looked at it, maybe I'd have known earlier. Instead, I'd thrown it back at him out of pride.

So many mistakes. All of them mine.

“Alina … ” Andrews said, and sighed. His grip loosened but he didn't let go. “What did you do?”

I opened my eyes and looked into his. I wanted to tell him everything; I always had. Like Becky, I trusted him. Now he'd hate me.

Perhaps that was for the best. It was better than loving me because he had no other choice. “It
was
Samuel,” I said. “He used me, and I—” Andrews lunged, or so
I'd
thought. I staggered under his weight, reflexively shoving back to keep from falling. But he didn't grab for my face as I'd expected him to. His weight collapsed beneath him. He fell limp in my arms. His cheek brushed mine and the touch skittered between us, but the ghost of what it had been before. “Danny?”

Samuel emerged from the shadows deep inside the narrow garden. Head up, sharp fae eyes on me. A dagger glinted in one hand, but his other hand was free. I reached up Andrews's back and found the blade embedded deep between his ribs—his heart.

Samuel's lips ticked. He lifted the second dagger.

I hugged Andrews close and spun. The blade slammed into my back, washing a vicious heat across my skin that had me stumbling to a knee. But the physical pain meant nothing compared to the twisting, cutting grief that hit when I saw the faraway look in Andrews's eyes.

“Danny?” I could make this better, make it right. I touched my hand to his face. “Take it. All of it. You saved me once, now take it back.” But nothing happened. The dancing sparks faded, until it was just my palm against his cheek and nothing else. “Danny … No, please.” A sob broke free. “Please.” I dropped my dagger and pressed both hands to his face. His head lolled, but I held him tightly in my hands.

He wasn't breathing. His open eyes didn't see me. “Take it!” I shouted. What good was I if all I could do was take life and not give it? I'd saved Reign on the platform the night I was born, why not Andrews now?

I tried to push life into him, but my attempts stuttered and failed. “Please … No, please …”

Samuel
tugged the blade from my back, yanking me away from Andrews. I barely twisted around in time to block his strike. Blades clashed. His weight shoved me down, pinning me under his knee.

Blood-splatters dappled Samuel's cheek. “Danny Andrews wasn't fae,” he snarled. “You can burn yourself out flooding him with draíocht and it won't work. He's human. Humans die easily.” He smiled his flat, fake smile. “The problem with you isn't that you're made of dust or that your head is filled with thoughts which may or may not be yours. The problem with you, Alina O'Connor, is simple. You'll never be more than you are right now, the girl who's empty inside.”

He wrapped his free hand around my throat and slammed me back against the road.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Ticktock. Ticktock.
Thoughts adrift, I clung onto the ticking noise, letting it anchor me before I could drift away to nothing. And I was drifting … I could feel it; life seeped from my bones, my flesh.
Unraveling.
The clock ticked and more draíocht bled away.

I smelled fresh grass and apples.
Home
, my memory supplied.
Samuel.
When I dragged my eyes open he filled my vision. His jewel-like tricolored eyes sparkled so close that I could make out every deep facet.
The beautiful killer.
Tingles washed through my cheek where he drew my life out of my unreal body. I whipped my head back, but he sank his fingers into my hair and held me fast.

“There you are,” he said. His teeth flashed behind a sharp smile.

I bucked, or tried to, but found my wrists tied to a chair.

He
straightened and let go, then stepped back to admire his handiwork. The dragging sensation vanished, leaving me gasping. Pins and needles attacked my body in alternating waves. While I gritted my teeth, Samuel watched me battle my pain with a content and lazy smile on his lips.