City of Shadows (6 page)

“Yeah. Listen. I'm not with the FA right now, but I have to go back—”

“I'm sorry, about the club. I wasn't thinking. I mean, I was … I just—it's just …” He sighed, and I felt the weight of his tiredness add to that of my guilt. “My sister, when the bespellment took hold, she started writing in one of her old journals. Maybe as a way to organize her thoughts? I found it, and … You should see the things she wrote about the fae—about
him
.”

“I want to help you. I think I can get close to Kael. And maybe I can find out what happened to Becky.”

“Really?” Hope lifted and cleared his voice so that he sounded more like the enthusiastic Andrews I'd known before.

“
I might even discover where she is.” I winced as I'd said it. I didn't want to make promises I couldn't keep, but there I was, doing exactly that.

A few more customers filed into the coffee shop, shaking water from their jackets. They chatted louder, swelling the background noise.

“Alina, I can't ask you to do this. The general is dangerous.”

“So am I.”

He laughed softly. He knew the truth, knew exactly what I'd lost in that truth.
Alina, the naïve American Girl
. His next words were deeper, spoken closer to the phone. “I'd never forgive myself if something happened to you.”

I almost bought it. I
wanted
his words to be true. I so badly wanted him to feel for me that I briefly forgot about the bespellment and how it would twist his thoughts. With Reign's rejection still ringing in my ears, it would have been nice to have someone—anyone—care for me. Someone I could talk to. A friend.

“Alina?”

I swallowed the small knot in my throat and fought the downturn of my lips. Around me, people chatted with their friends and colleagues, checked their cells, bought coffee and pastries. And I'd never felt more alone.

“Why don't you come over? I'll put the kettle on.”

I closed my eyes.
So easy to believe
… “Andrews.”

“You should see the journal. It's important. There might be something in there that could help. Where are you? I can come to you.”

“I have to go.”

“Alina, wait. This is me. I'm not trying to get close to you …”

His voice trailed off as I remembered the words he'd said to me right after the massacre at the Dome. “
Alina, I won't need you
.” The man I was talking to wasn't
Andrews.
Not really. Bespellment was pulling his strings, making him say all the right things to get me through his front door.

“I'm sorry, Andrews. I have to go. I'll tell you if I find anything.”

“Alin—”

I hung up the cell and switched it off. I couldn't cure him, only time and distance would do that, and only if he wasn't too far gone. But I could help him in other ways. It would have to be enough. Besides, what else was there?

After arriving at Holland Park, I pressed the intercom and got buzzed inside the empty entrance hall with its glittering chandelier and sweeping multileveled staircase.

I hadn't expected a welcome party, but I did expect
someone.
Surely, given my past with the FA, they weren't going to let me roam about their home? Some of the FA—maybe all—had aided the queen in her escape. I'd killed, cut through them like they were nothing but air. I wasn't even sure how many I'd killed in Under, one of the many doubts that kept me awake at night.

Sounds of taunting bays and whistles echoed up from the descending staircase.

I ventured down the steps, deeper into the house, passing through high hallways that switched back and forth. My shoes sank into the deep plum colored carpet. Embossed wallpaper full of elaborate swirls and blooming flowers that demanded to be touched. The dark wood and ornate wall lights held just enough patina to hint at being original. It wouldn't have surprised me if the FA had been on these premises since they first arrived in London (long before they came out in
'
74), maybe since the old house had been built, I guessed sometime in the Victorian period.

The hoots and shouts grew louder. I turned yet another corner and pushed through a slightly open door onto a mezzanine gallery. I leaned on the balustrade and peered down at what might have once been a dining hall but was now repurposed as a training room. Two dozen fae, maybe more, lined the room. Their red and black leathers—the colors of their deceased queen—marked them as Fae Authority. Warning colors, and with good reason. They each oozed a deadly kind of confidence, the type that could clear a room with a single glance.

I inched closer to the edge and rested my hands on the rail. In the center of the room two fae sparred; if you could call no-holds-barred, bare-knuckle blows sparring. The combatants, one male and one female, bore the wounds of combat. They fought with high kicks and quick jabs, moving, weaving, striking too fast for me to see. The fae were a predatory race, and watching them fight, it wasn't too much of an imaginative leap to envisage how their world was one soaked in violence.

The pair below broke up, the female a clear winner. Her sparring partner took her hand and raised it up to thunderous applause. Quick as splintered light with scalpel-like precision, she represented everything people feared and admired about the fae. Faster, stronger, better in every way. What if these fae decided not to police their own? What if they wanted more?

I reached behind me and checked the three throwing knives fitted snugly against my lower back. I'd survive an attack if I surrendered to that terrible need to palm my weapons and start spilling blood.

A
new pair of warriors took to the floor. Others grouped up, sizing up one another with quick smiles and hungry glares. I'd seen that wild glimmer in Reign's eyes. How could we ever think we'd tame them?

“Where is Sovereign?”

I froze.

General Kael stood so close I could feel his breath on the back of my neck. Shivers crawled across my skin.

“I couldn't find him.”

“How convenient,” he growled. “So why did you really come back, Construct?”

“Being on the run from the FA didn't appeal.” His growl rumbled deeper. “I came back for help and to offer you the queen's knowledge in return.”

“What is the extent of this knowledge?”

I swallowed. “I have … I have dreams.”
Dream
was too soft a word for the thoughts in my head whenever I closed my eyes. Scenes of slaughter, sounds of the dying. The smell of death and another, more potent, smell, that wrapped around me and held me close, a sweet smell that I ached to fill me up once more. Faerie. They weren't dreams, but nightmares. “I don't sleep anymore, because of the dreams, only I don't think they're dreams at all. I think they're memories.”

“I don't believe you. Constructs are not designed to harbor memories.”

“This one is.” Anger slipped through the restraint in my words. “I'm not just a construct. I bespelled a man. I'm different. More fae than I was.”

“You killed fifteen of my warriors.”
Fifteen.
I'd wanted to know, but now that I did, I wished he hadn't told me. “Are you here to do the same again?” he asked. “Do you think you can cut through us like you did outside the queen's chamber?”

“No. I—”

“
Enough.” Kael whistled a high-pitched alert and stepped back. “You have three seconds before Samuel reaches you.”

An arm reached over the balustrade. One of the warriors from the training session below spilled his lithe-self over onto the mezzanine landing. Eyes wild, braided blond hair trailing over one shoulder—he snarled.

I bolted out the door, veered back the way I'd come, only to face two FA warriors marching up the hallway. Tricolored eyes targeted me.

Adrenalin burst through my veins, shutting off all unnecessary thought and sparking instincts into action. I turned on my heel and darted down a hallway I hoped was the way out. More steps. I jumped down and yanked open a door. I was heading deeper into the house, not out.
Damn it.

Boots thudded down the hall behind me.

Palming a knife, I burst through a set of doors and ducked right, plastering myself against a wall. Second dagger out, I waited, listening to my racing heart and blood pumping in my ears. A strong chemical smell burned my nose, but before I could place it, one of the fae burst through the door. I recognized the female warrior from the training hall and let the first dagger fly. It bounced hilt first off her shoulder. She twisted in a way only the agile fae can manage, curling around, hardly losing any speed, and struck out with a fist. I flinched left. Her knuckles hit the wall beside my head. She snarled, hooked around my throat, and lifted me clean off my feet. I kicked out, but she no more flinched than a statue would.

I punched my remaining dagger into her side. She grunted, like it was a mere inconvenience, but loosened her grip on my throat enough for me suck in air and punch up, under her chin, slamming her jaw closed and snapping her head back.
She
let go, and I sprang forward, intent on freedom. A hand snatched at my jacket. I spun, twisted, and slipped out of the coat without losing momentum.

One knife left. I'd need to make it count. Twenty fae on one wasn't fair. But then I doubted the general put a lot of stock in fairness. He seemed the type to balance the odds in his favor.

I slammed through another door, got a lungful of heavily chlorinated air, and skidded to a halt on slippery wet tiles. Swimming pool.
Too late to turn back.
A fire door beckoned at the far end.

The door behind me flew open. I shot forward, but a fae hit me hard, knocking me forward and off my feet. My chin cracked against wet tiles. I tried to scramble forward when the fae straddled my back, pinning me down. I snarled a curse over my shoulder. The braided one; Samuel. He sank his hand into my hair and yanked my head back, exposing my throat to the knife he'd plucked from my hand.

“General Kael knows how you fight,” Samuel purred close to my ear. He breathed level and steady, hardly even winded. “He's studied your reflexes.” I wriggled, but the bastard had me pinned between his thighs. “And distributed that knowledge to us. So you see, Construct. We
know
you.”

I willed the tears to come. Made myself think of Reign as he'd lain with Shay, reminded myself of his parting words.
You're too much like her.
Tears spilled down my cheeks with surprising ease. “Please … ” I sobbed. “Don't hurt me.”

Samuel snarled something guttural and eased his weight off me. He missed my smile, too busy being disgusted by my weak female self. I twisted and kicked out, cracking my heel against his jaw with enough coiled force to jerk him backward and surprise the hell out of him.

It didn't last.

As
I tried to scramble to my feet, he snatched my ankle and yanked. I kicked again, but he held fast. I twisted, grabbed at his braid, and yanked. He barked a cry and snarled yet another colorful curse. We tussled at close quarters; too tight to land any accurate punches. He fell on me, snapping and snarling. I remembered my earlier alleyway brawl and bit him on the shoulder. He really had underestimated me. Amethyst fae eyes widened with indignation right before I smacked my forehead into his nose.

I had a second to rejoice before we plunged into the water.

Chapter Six

“You survived,” the general said, more a statement of fact than anything else.

“Does that mean I'm in?” Trailing behind Kael, I peered through wet bangs at his straight shoulders as he strode through the many Holland Park corridors. I'd lost count of the turns, steps, and doorways we'd passed through. It was impossible to know which way was out, and fae following silently behind made sure I didn't wander.

“No.” His steel-gray eyes flicked toward me. “You get to walk away. Consider it a courtesy that won't be extended again.”

“We need to talk,” I said, and quickened my pace, struggling to keep up. Water dripped down my neck where the FA warriors' collective gazes burned. My shoes squelched and my clothes chafed. I hadn't been in the pool long before the
general's
appearance had put a halt to my scuffle with his warrior, but it was long enough to be soaked through and shivering.

“No, I do not need to talk with a construct.” Kael clicked his fingers at his warriors. “Back to training.” And just like that, they went, drifting away into rooms and other corridors. Not a word. Not a grumble. Unequivocal obedience. He hadn't even looked at them.

Even Samuel left, dripping water as he passed me by without so much as a glance down. Samuel hadn't taken the dip in the pool well. But it was the knee to the balls that really hadn't won me any favors. If Kael hadn't broken up the fight when he did, the warrior wouldn't have stopped until I was a bloody mess, or the raging madness took me.

“I'm all that's left of the queen,” I added, continuing to half jog alongside Kael. “That must mean something.”

Kael passed through a door and jogged up yet more steps. “And what is it you really want from us?”

“Train me.”

A couple of fae passed us by, reserving looks of disdain as they took in my wet and bedraggled state.

That summoned up a smile onto Kael's thin, bloodless lips. “I watched you carve through a squad of my best as though they were inanimate objects. I've fought you, hand to hand, and that's not something I'll forget. What makes you think I can train you?”

I winced. “I need …” My throat constricted around the truth. “I need someone, something, to focus on. I need a purpose, else I'm afraid I'll …” With the words
out
there, it made them and their meaning real. I was afraid that if I stopped, just for a little while, I'd stop altogether.