City of Shadows

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City of Shadows Page 12

by Pippa Dacosta


  “I’m not sure what I am, there’s never been a construct quite as complex as me. Maybe I’m just a thing made with mismatched pieces of Faerie. Maybe I’m nothing. What difference does it make?”

  When he next spoke, he’d moved closer. “Granted, possession of a construct is unlikely. But, don’t you want to know?”

  I turned on my heel and shone the beam in his face. He flinched away but not before his tricolored eyes contracted in the light. “What I want is to live like normal people do. I just want to go for walks in the park on Sundays, maybe go on a date, eat chocolate cake, swim at the beach, have sex, have lovers, friends, people, and things I care about. And people who care about me, because of me, not because of the damn touch, or bespellment, or what I might be. A real life. That’s all I want to know.” It was true. All of it. And hearing myself say it wrapped the loneliness around me all over again.

  Samuel pushed my flashlight aside. He rapidly blinked. His dark eyes adjusted, pupils widening, and he looked down at me, his fae features tightening in—what? Confusion? Doubt? I wasn’t sure. He couldn’t possibly understand. A fae like him, ancient compared to my few weeks of life. He had everything. I had—nothing.

  I turned away, but his fingers curled around my upper arm and pulled me back. I opened my mouth to protest when he squeezed hard enough to hurt.

  “Our words no longer echo,” he said, breath cool against my face.

  The dark swallowed his sentence. I froze, acutely aware of my own short, sharp breaths. The quiet pushed in. The glow from my flashlight ended a foot ahead of us, as though I’d pointed it at a seamless curtain of night.

  “We’re not alone,” I whispered, inching back against Samuel. He pulled me close. I wouldn’t have thought him afraid, had I not felt the slight tremor run through him.

  I twisted the torch, painting blobs of white on the blackness, until I found a slither where the beam punched through. “There. Go!” I bolted. Samuel had hold of my arm, but from one step to the next his grip slipped, and his fingers released. When I glanced back, the dark folded over him. His wide fearful eyes fixed on me. And then he was gone. Swallowed by shadows.

  I skidded to a halt. “Hey! Remember me?”

  The dark rippled. Samuel’s in there. That thing is eating him alive.

  I stood firm and dug deep inside my own mind, reaching for the memories I knew to be as dark as the shadow now slithering toward me. Memories of a beautiful world poisoned by violence—memories of the slaughter. And the power. So much draíocht. So much life. The air, the earth, everything. And all of it was mine. I opened my arms and welcomed it. More, I needed more. It wasn’t enough. It would never be enough. Feed.

  I laughed into the dark, and welcomed the lytch as it wrapped its slick tendrils around my body. At the touch, I pulled—consumed it down as though I’d been starved, blinded, and trapped, and the lytch’s life, its draíocht, was now mine. I could see again, breathe again; I was alive.

  Chapter Thirteen

  I came back to myself sprawled across the tracks. Flashlights flicked back and forth deep inside the tunnel.

  Samuel.

  “Over here!” I called.

  I stumbled to my feet and staggered to the crumpled body between me and the incoming FA. Samuel lay still, his eyes closed and face milky pale. I dropped to my knees and touched him without thinking. Instantly a jolt of pain and pleasure skittered through my hand and into his cheek. He snapped his eyes open and focused them on me. His lips parted, as though he wanted to say something, but hands grabbed me and hauled me away.

  “Wait!” I yanked on the grip.

  The FA warrior whirled me around and shoved me toward two more warriors. “Get her back to HQ—Kael’s orders.”

  “I didn’t hurt him—It wasn’t me!” Arms wrenched me backward. I bucked and kicked, until another warrior moved in and bore down on me with murder in her eyes.

  A growl bubbled up my throat. “Hit me again and I’ll open up your pretty face with my teeth.”

  She stopped, probably juggling the odds of surviving an encounter with me without the general to back her up.

  I yanked myself free and turned in a circle to regard the three of them. They each took uncertain steps back and checked one another to see who’d be the first to make the mistake of jumping me. “Try it. Go on. Or stop wasting time with me and help Samuel.”

  “Kael’s orders,” the female said.

  “Fuck Kael’s orders. I don’t need you to haul me back to him. I’ll go on my own.”

  They growled and grumbled in unison but parted to let me by. As the circle of fae wouldn’t let me get anywhere near Samuel, I returned to street level and commandeered a Range Rover and its driver.

  When I pushed through the FAHQ doors into the entrance hall, there was nobody around to stop me marching all the way through the house to Kael’s war room. He knew I was coming—someone had called ahead. He didn’t wait for me to enter his office before laying into me. Instead, he met me in the doorway, raked those gray eyes over my FA uniform, and pulled his lips back in a sneer. “Do I need to have you restrained?”

  I barked a bitter laugh. “You can try,” I said, sounding eerily like Reign.

  “What happened?”

  “The lytch happened,” I replied, standing my ground while a number of fae entered the hall behind me and stood close enough to shove a dagger in my back should their general give the order.

  “Why were there just two of you?” Kael demanded, eyes as dark as storms. “I gave explicit instructions to move in teams of four.”

  “Ask Samuel. He took me there.” Some of the fight fizzled away as I recalled how I’d last seen him, sprawled out cold across the tracks. “Is he okay?”

  “Is the lytch still at large?” Kael stood over me, so much taller, and built to slam the likes of me into a wall.

  “It’s not there,” I growled back.

  “Then I need to seal the tunnels for another day while we track it down.” He turned away, heading back into his room. “I want double pa—”

  “It’s not anywhere.” I stomped after him.

  Kael pulled up short beside the table.

  The presence of the fae behind me had my skin crawling. They were glaring, and they’d hear what I was about to say, take it back to their comrades and I’d have a target on my back. One a fair amount larger than the one I’d already earned. I smiled at them all and closed the door.

  Kael frowned. “What do you mean, it’s not anywhere?”

  “I, er …” I licked my lips and considered all the ways to explain what had happened. “Samuel said something about plague pits in that area. He wanted to investigate, but I don’t think he really expected to find anything. But the lytch found us.”

  “Where is the lytch, Construct?” Kael asked, a little more carefully this time, his mind working to confirm what he must already know. I’d subdued the lytch before, he must have suspected I’d done the same again.

  “I absorbed it.”

  He blinked once, twice, opened his mouth, and paused a moment before asking, “Would you like to explain exactly how that’s possible?”

  “No.” I wasn’t sure I could explain how I absorbed the dark and how it surged through my veins even then, making me new and bright and alive. “The lytch is gone. It’s not coming back.”

  Kael’s worried frown deepened. He pulled out a chair from beneath the large table but didn’t sit. He gripped the back hard enough to whiten his fingers. “This is …”

  Messed up. Insane. Terrifying. Exhilarating?

  His throat moved as he swallowed. He looked at me, and this time those eyes didn’t judge. “This is significant. A construct shouldn’t be able to devour another fae being.”

  Damn right it’s significant. He was still watching me, waiting for something by the oddly pensive expression on his face. My explanation, I guessed. Well, he wasn’t getting one. I’d figure it out myself first and then decide how much he should know.

  �
��Arachne,” he whispered.

  I turned away and sent my gaze about the room, at anything but him and the expectations on his face.

  “What did she feel like?”

  Like the nightmare I’ve been running from since I killed the queen. I couldn’t stay here, with him. I’d say too much. He’d ask all the right questions and I’d tell him everything, because I needed to share the truth with someone, even my enemy. “Is Samuel here? Can I see him?” I pushed. For whatever reason, he was avoiding my questions regarding Samuel and I wanted to know why.

  “I’d like you to return to Under,” he said. “Not now. Rest first. Then you will see if you can find any signs of Faerie’s castaways having been released from the catacombs. I need to know if the lytch was an isolated incident.”

  “You want me to go back to Under?”

  “Yes. I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

  “Alone?”

  Kael’s smile was entirely predatory. “You’ve killed enough fae creatures that I’m certain should you encounter anything, you’ll survive.”

  Suddenly so confident in his pet construct now that we knew who it was I harbored. “Are you expecting more things to be down there?”

  “The lytch escaped. Someone helped it, or the catacomb prisons—like that of the queen’s—are no longer holding. We need to know which. My warriors are all engaged elsewhere. My resources are finite.” He waited me out, seeing doubt cloud my face.

  I sucked in air through my nose and sighed. “The deal was you train me, and you get a potentially powerful ally. So far Samuel has been training me. How does my going back to Under fit with the deal?”

  “The deal has changed. Samuel is perfectly capable of training you, and in exchange, you’ll follow my orders.”

  I bristled inside. Keeping me at a distance would mean he could conveniently keep me from discovering any clues to Becky’s whereabouts. He didn’t want to let me go, but at the same time, he wasn’t going to let me in. Not yet. I needed Kael to trust me enough that I could get closer to him and discover what he was up to when he wasn’t ordering his warriors around. “But Samuel isn’t you.” His eyes narrowed, as though looking for deception. “In Under, when I fought you to get to the queen, you summoned the worst of me. You’ve seen what I can do; you’ve experienced it. You know what I am, Kael. It has to be you.”

  He hesitated. My argument was a valid one. “I’m sure we’d both prefer we didn’t have to draw daggers against one another, considering our past in that regard.”

  Was he afraid? I tried to read his face, but as ever, he guarded his expression. He should be afraid of me. I was.

  “Don’t go back to Under because I’ve ordered you to. Go because if any of those beasts are free, the peace we’ve worked for years to build will collapse. People and fae will die. Go because I’m asking you, Alina—not ordering you.”

  Appealing to my humanity. Smooth. “When I get back, will you train me?”

  “I’ll consider it, yes,” he replied, a little too quickly for my liking.

  “Can I see Samuel?”

  “Will you do as I ask?”

  I slowly pushed to my feet. “All right, I’ll check out Under but only if you train me when I return.” He crossed the room to the door and nodded at one of the waiting warriors. “Has Sam returned?”

  Sam? Interesting.

  “Yes, General,” the warrior replied.

  “Take Alina to see him.”

  I left the war room with Kael’s gaze burning into my back. He had a quick mind. He’d be considering my devouring revelation, trying to think of a way to utilize what he knew. The queen was dead but the spirit lived on. The queen’s architect—my architect—was Arachne. I had to know the ramifications of that before Kael did.

  I needed help.

  The warrior escorting me knocked on a cherry-wood door that I assumed belonged to Samuel’s bedroom, in the east wing of the house. “The construct is here.” He cast me a side glance, one that had me wondering if the news of what I’d done was already whispering through the FA ranks.

  “Let her in.”

  The warrior opened the door and gestured for me to enter. I gave him a typically sweet Alina smile and watched his brow furrow. Yeah, they weren’t going to trust me now that I’d devoured a lytch. I was too powerful, too dangerous.

  Samuel sat on an enormous four-poster bed, his back to me, shrugging a shirt on over his shoulders. Considering I got to get a good look only at his back, it was a fine view and one worth admiring.

  “What happened?” he asked, focusing on the buttons.

  “How do you feel?” I skirted his question, mostly because I didn’t have a reply, at least not one that made much sense.

  He didn’t answer immediately and instead rolled up his sleeves. “Alive.”

  “Well, that’s good.” I dared not get any closer to the bed. He hadn’t yet faced me. Was that because he knew I’d devoured a lytch? “Did you, er … Did you see me? When I—”

  “No. The last I saw, you were running.” He stood and moved around the foot of the bed but wavered and reached out a hand to steady himself against a post. When he lifted tired eyes, I made myself stay rooted to the spot, fighting an unexpected urge to go to him. The lytch must have taken a generous chunk out of his draíocht. He was lucky to be alive.

  “You stopped it?” He brushed his hair back, his fingers trembling. He saw me notice and curled them into his hand with a heavy sigh.

  “I need your help.” I swallowed, mouth dry. I couldn’t carry the weight of Arachne alone. “You and Nyx.”

  Leaning his shoulder against the post, he winced a little. “I should have been more careful. I was so sure. I could have …” He closed his eyes and breathed deeply. “It was reckless. I’m sorry.”

  Damn. Was he beating himself up about dragging me down there? Did he actually care? “It’s okay,” I replied softly.

  He winced, and not from physical pain. “I’ll help. I owe you that much.”

  “You have to tell me everything you know about Arachne.”

  Samuel lifted his chin and sucked down a deep breath. “There are three spirits who together controlled Faerie. Two were sent here during the purge.”

  “Cu Sith and Arachne,” I confirmed. “But when the queen died, Arachne didn’t die with her?”

  “The spirits themselves are not so easily destroyed.” He leaned against the post. “Should Sovereign have fallen before the purge, Cu Sith—the hound—would have found another host among Sovereign’s bloodline. It’s forever been that way.”

  I pressed a hand to my chest, trying to slow my racing heart. “I need to know exactly what this means.”

  “Nyx and Scaw can tell you more.” He straightened with considerable effort and came forward, stopping close enough that I had to look up to meet his eyes.

  “Thank you.” His lips lifted in a small smile, but it was real, and honest. “Whatever you did, whatever you sacrificed to stop the lytch, I owe you my life.” He leaned forward and for a few seconds I tensed, expecting an attack, a dagger in the ribs, something typically and brutally fae. What I didn’t expect was the slightest brush of his lips against my cheek in a delicate, barely there kiss. I blinked, caught between pulling away and leaning into the touch. This close, the scent of pine and something like cut grass, but sweeter, tugged on memories. Faerie. A voice in my head told me. He smells like home.

  Samuel didn’t pull away as quickly as I’d expected, or perhaps he did, and I was just stuck between one moment and the next. Fear of the unknown spiraled in my head, while his touch seemed to tug on all the things I needed; someone to care, someone who’d listen. He angled his head slightly, his lips brushing the corner of mine. I might have chased that touch, turned it into something real, but he pulled back and brushed by me. The lingering tingles were all that remained of a moment I wasn’t sure meant something, or if I was so completely desperate to be held, that I’d found meaning where there was none.

  “Scaw wil
l be able to tell you our lore,” Samuel said, leaving the room and me behind as he strode down the hall without looking back.

  “Lorekeeper, give Alina what she wants,” Samuel said as we entered a library lined from floor to ceiling with overflowing bookshelves.

  As Scaw was the only one around, I assumed Samuel referred to him as Lorekeeper, and I shot Scaw a questioning look.

  He closed the book he’d had his nose buried in and set it gently down on the table. “When we were expelled from Faerie, there was little time to collect personal belongings,” he explained. “We had only the possessions we could carry, and most carried weapons. On arrival here, it was agreed our verbal history and important events should be recorded by a nominated fae known as the Lorekeeper.” Scaw leaned back in his chair and spread his hands. “I’m your designated Lorekeeper, librarian. Goodreads-rated top three librarians in the UK.”

  “Really?”

  “Dead honest, Gov,” he drawled, laying on a thick cockney accent.

  A designated Lorekeeper who reads Fifty Shades of Grey, I noticed with a smile. In fact, most of the books strewn about on the table in front of him were fiction. I spotted a few encyclopedias and history books, but most were genre fiction, thrillers, crime, and romance novels.

  “We have eclectic tastes.” He smiled back.

  He had a quiet composure about him. The other fae seemed to exude restrained violence. Like wild animals who appeared tame, but were in fact waiting for the right time to attack. Scaw didn’t look at me like he wanted to stick a dagger in my back. He had an easy smile and patient eyes. He looked to be early thirties in human years, but his quiet contemplation had me wondering if he was much, much older.

  “What do you know about Arachne?” I asked softly.

  “There isn’t much I don’t know about Faerie and her spirits.”

  Though he has the same knack for avoiding direct answers.

  He leaned out and cast Samuel a cursory glance around me, as though checking for permission. My annoyance bristled but I kept quiet. Samuel must have nodded, because Scaw pulled out the chair beside him and beckoned me to sit. I did, and I caught a glimpse of Samuel out of the corner of my eye. He’d taken up residence in a raggedy armchair, head back, eyes closed, his commanding fae self slumped in the cushions like a cat sprawled in the sun.

 

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