City of Shadows

by Pippa Dacosta

  “Your companion does.”

  Kael knelt beside the nearest body. “I should have killed him as a boy.” He touched the face of a woman. “I should have killed him, but I couldn’t …” His lips drew back, as though touching the dead pained him. “I’ve seen enough death. But this … I could have stopped this.”

  “Kael, we need to find him.”

  The general stared at the dead and my words went unheard.

  I stepped into the chamber, inching carefully between upturned hands and dust-covered ragged clothing. Homeless people. Shay had told me the fae were taking the homeless; Samuel had been doing the same.

  Sobs clogged my throat, but I gulped them back. The hope I’d held onto slowly slipped through my fingers. I didn’t want to look, to see their faces, and never forget. They’d been snatched from their lives by Samuel; did they have people wondering where they were? Waiting for them, like Andrews waited for Becky? And that’s when I saw her. Curled on her side, her legs pulled in, as though she might be trying to make herself small and unseen. Her eyes were closed, and for that I was thankful. She barely resembled the laughing, smiling young woman from the memories I’d stolen from Andrews’s mind, but I knew her. I heard her words, her pleas for help, and I felt her despair crush around my heart. I was too late. I’m so sorry.

  A few days ago I lay beside Samuel while these people were dying, trapped in this room.

  Bile burned my throat. I swallowed hard, tasting the pain and disgust on my tongue.

  “You knew her,” Kael said from beside me. I hadn’t seen him move and almost didn’t hear his words. At least she was at rest. That was all she’d wanted, in the end.

  “He’s drained them of all life,” the general said, his voice tight with control. “It should be enough to hold open a path to Faerie. He won’t fail this time.”

  A sharp strike of rage rushed through the calm. I couldn’t save her, but I could damn well stop Samuel. It wouldn’t bring Becky back, it wouldn’t save Andrews from knowing the horror his sister had endured, but it would bring an end to it.

  “Where would he go?” I quickly swiped at the wetness on my face.

  The general’s eyes had lost some of their chilling hardness. His face too had softened. Regret, sadness. “Three,” he said. “Always three. He’ll need three focus points to anchor the path. Somewhere open, somewhere people will gather to watch. He’ll need a crowd to feed from. People and three anchor points.” He swallowed and said again, “Always three.” His glassy eyed gaze drifting over the fallen. “He can’t cover this up. While he’s laden with draíocht, he’ll have to act now, before news of our disappearance reaches the FA. I need to mobilize my warriors.”

  “Then let’s go mobilize them.”

  “You have Arachne, One of the Three within you, little fae construct,” the lytch said from above. I followed the general to the door, letting the words settle around me. “They will follow you.”

  I paused in the doorway. The tunnel rumbled, and behind me the dark breathed, alive and waiting for my reply. “The beasts of Faerie, those like you, in the tunnels,” I said. Kael turned, surprise widening his eyes as he heard me speak fae words. I focused on the lytch. “Stay hidden. Don’t harm anyone, and I’ll help you.” Somehow, I silently added before closing the door on the dead.

  The general and I emerged from the station entrance. I gave the construction site a quick scan for any sign of Samuel. My gaze snagged on the boot prints in the mud, and the pit, where he’d pushed me over the edge.

  I followed Kael through the fence, onto the street outside. Something flowed through the narrow alleys and switchback junctions now. Draíocht danced unseen through the air, a tantalizing summons.

  Kael lifted his head. “There.”

  Above the rise of London’s office buildings, curious wisps of green teased into the night. “Where is that?”

  “Trafalgar.” Kael lifted a cell phone from his pocket and started to stride down the street. He stepped off the sidewalk in front of an oncoming car and turned his glare on the driver. Tires screeched on wet asphalt. Kael wrenched him out of the driver’s seat, snarling, “Fae Authority. Get out.”

  I shot the gaping driver an apologetic frown and climbed into the little car’s passenger seat, slamming the door on the verbal abuse.

  Kael tossed the cell phone into my lap and turned the car in the road. “I’m not getting any reply from HQ. Try Nyx.”

  Hanging onto my seat with one hand, I scrolled through the contacts and found Nyx’s number.

  Kael raced the little car the wrong way down the narrow one-way A400. Oncoming traffic flashed its headlights. He bumped the little car half onto the sidewalk and plowed on, unfazed.

  The cell blipped and a voice answered, “General, we’ve been trying—”

  “Nyx, it’s Alina.” Silence. “Nyx?”

  “Why do you have Kael’s phone?” Her tone had that nonchalant enquiry about it, which really meant she was considering all the ways she could stab me.

  “Don’t worry, he’s fine. He’s right here. We’re heading toward—”

  “Let me talk to him.”

  She clearly didn’t trust me. “Has Samuel told you something?”

  “Just let me talk to him, Construct.” A threatening growl bubbled beneath her words.

  Kael steered the car into the center of the road and took the cell phone from me. “Listen to Alina,” he snarled, handing it back.

  “Okay, that’s sounds like him, but … Samuel told us you’d gone after Kael. That we—all of us—were to meet him at Trafalgar to stop you.”

  Son of a bitch. “It’s not me who needs stopping, Nyx. Samuel’s trying to open a path back to Faerie.”

  “Samuel?” She barked an incredulous laugh. “How?”

  “He’s an elder’s son.”

  She took barely a second to process the information, and said, “Well, that’s the sort of information that would have been useful to know before now.”

  “We’re on our way to Trafalgar. Try and warn the FA—they’ve been lied to. We all have.” I really didn’t want the entire FA trying to slice me into pieces on sight.

  “I’ll try, but I’ve been having trouble reaching them.”

  Kael slammed on the brakes, throwing me forward in the seat. The car twitched and skidded to a halt. A crowd of civilian fae filled the street ahead. A handful turned and fixed their tricolored eyes on us. Their lips moved, and they nodded our way. I couldn’t hear what was said, but it was enough to turn the crowd around. They started forward, and my gut sank. Their array of daggers and blunt weapons glinted in the low light.

  “They don’t look happy to see us,” I said.

  Kael let out a snarl. “I’ll talk to them.”

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Too late, he was already opening the car door.

  “What’s going on?” Nyx asked through the cell.

  I shoved open my door and clambered out. The fae filled the street from sidewalk to sidewalk. Knives glinted in their hands, their blades as sharp as their cutting glances. And the general headed straight toward them, his daggers still sheathed and his stride true. Tension simmered in the air, as intoxicating as draíocht. Kael was going to get himself killed.

  “Nyx, contact the others now. Tell them it’s a trap.”

  “Alina, wa—”

  I hung up the call, eased my daggers free, and moved up behind Kael.

  “We don’t follow the FA orders, General!” one of the many fae said, I couldn’t tell which. They flowed as one, pushing forward, sweeping into doorways, and clambering over cars.

  Kael suddenly stopped. He dropped his left hand, spreading his fingers. A sign to hold me back. “If you do this,” he began, his voice loud and clear over the sounds of relentless marching. “Everything we’ve worked for will fall.”

  “The FA?” A new voice spoke up. “We no longer recognize your authority, General.”

  They closed in, their numbers spilling into
side streets, blocking possible exits.

  “Kael?” I growled, sotto voce.

  “London will not forgive this.” His fingers twitched, and slowly, he closed them around the dagger-hilts.

  “We’re not looking to be forgiven!” The crowd burst forward with a roar.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Kael and I ran. He barked a few directional orders, so we veered quickly and out of sight into a pedestrianized side street, disappearing behind St. Martin-In-The-Fields church. Kael cut down the handful of fae who had followed closely enough to see our escape route. He dropped them in a blur, wasting no time on flair.

  Once out of sight, tucked in behind the church, he took his cell phone back and dialed a few numbers, but when the third call didn’t answer he uttered what I assumed to be a fae curse. “If they’re not already here, they’ll come.”

  His warriors. They’d come, and they’d die. The crowd, the draíocht; I could taste the anticipation in the air. Fear shivered across my skin and dread sunk, cold and hard in my gut.

  Kael marched to the side of the church, braced an arm on the wall, and narrowed his eyes on the chaos unfolding in the street. “Samuel did this.”

  The constant background hiss of so many fae drowned out all of London’s noise. The shouts and hoots rose up, like a wave, and inside it, glass shattered and alarms wailed.

  “He’ll be in the center of the square,” Kael said. “Between the fountains and Nelson’s Column. Three points. Open space. He has everything he needs.”

  From my position behind Kael’s shoulder, I could see the tops of the landmark fountains over the crowd and the column, where green vapor spiraled skyward, swirling like water down a drain. Draíocht.

  “Maybe if we could talk with him?” I’d let my blades do the talking.

  “We’d have to get to him first,” Kael said. “We need a way to cut through the crowd. Every last one of the fae if we have to. I can’t allow him to weave that path.”

  “Maybe he’ll fail?”

  “No. We can’t take that chance. He brought the ogre through on previous attempts.” The fae hollered and hooted in the street, their united cries swelling across Trafalgar.

  I scanned the crowd toward the fae crawling over the National Gallery steps behind the fountains, and spotted one of the FA warriors tied to the balustrade above the crowd. If he wasn’t dead, he soon would be. Nearby fae were passing along a burning piece of debris. They held it against his back, catching his hair aflame. I closed my eyes, but that didn’t stop the screams from reaching me, even over the roar of the crowd.

  Kael’s snarl was pure animal rage. He tightened his grip on his bloodied daggers, knuckles whitening. Resolute determination drilled through him. He’d stride on in there and the crowd would swallow him up.

  “Don’t.” I closed my hand around his arm and stepped in front of him, blocking the scene. “We can’t get in there. Not in FA colors.”

  “Get out of my way,” he snarled.

  I pressed my hand against his chest and spread my fingers wide, holding him back. “You’ll cut down maybe two, three, before they turn on you. There are hundreds, thousands maybe. They’ll kill you.”

  He glared through me, and for a few moments I wondered if he’d cut me down. We’d been enemies. Perhaps we still were. But I couldn’t let him make another mistake. “Kael, on the battlefield in Faerie, the day your legions died. You wanted to exchange your life for theirs.” His face crumpled. “I have the memories, I know how the queen and Arachne found you. You’d have gladly given your life to save those fae. The queen pulled you back. She saved you for her own devices. But not for this … You don’t die here today, General.” I smiled a shallow, fae-like smile, one that spoke of threats and hunger.

  Recognition flickered in his eyes. He lowered his gaze to where I pushed against his chest and then dragged those silvery eyes back up to me. A shared history pulled between us. Moments that weren’t mine.

  His throat moved as he swallowed. “If we can’t stop this, the elders will know we’ve survived. They’ll come. And this peace we’ve created will all be for nothing.”

  I grinned and punched him lightly in the shoulder, risking his wrath, but he merely scowled. “Way to think positive, Kael. Or, you could call Nyx, and tell her to go get the best fae crowd control we have this side of Faerie—the hound.”

  Kael ended the call with Nyx. “She’s put the word out but we’ve never found him when we’ve attempted to in the past.”

  There was a chance Reign was already among the crowd, but given the swelling draíocht, had he been present, we’d likely already have the hound to deal with. Still, he wouldn’t be far. The draíocht would call to him, as it had the others. I could feel it tugging on me, luring me out of hiding. I didn’t know how far out that tugging sensation traveled, but any fae nearby would be drawn in. The crowd wasn’t getting smaller, the draíocht wasn’t waning. If anything, Samuel’s hypnotic swirl of light glowed ever brighter.

  “I’m going to secure a vantage point,” Kael said, turning his attention toward the back of the church. “See if you can rally any FA on the outskirts. Bring them back there.”

  Kael scaled the side of the church, using the ornate Georgian windows as footholds and gripping points. He made it look easy and was on the roof in the space of three minutes.

  I turned toward the back alleys and slipped away from Trafalgar unseen. The roads were snarled with abandoned traffic and police riot vans. They couldn’t do anything against an angry fae mob, besides get the life drained out of them. I didn’t look for Andrews. He was too far gone to be working and if Reign was true to his word, Andrews was somewhere getting the care he needed, far away from this madness.

  I didn’t make it much farther back up the road before I felt the crawl of a gaze and looked up to find a silhouetted figure crouched on the edge of a nearby building. Someone bumped into me, a cell phone out at arm’s length, filming the riot trucks. When I looked back to the rooftop, Reign had gone. I knew it was him, the same as I knew he hadn’t gone far. I could feel him. A tightness in my chest shortened my breath, like a string of tension being pulled toward the breaking point.

  He emerged from one of the narrow pedestrian streets, striding leisurely, coat peeling back to reveal an untucked shirt and frayed pants. He’d always looked like someone had kicked him out of bed to go face the world, but now his disheveled appearance was genuine. The way he moved though—his casual glances, taking in the people on the street, the police in their yellow high-visibility jackets, and me—there was nothing casual about the predator in him.

  “Hello, American Girl.” His smile was shallow, the type that cut quickly, but hurt no less.

  “Reign.” I kept my tone level, although I’d have liked nothing better than to blame him for everything. It occurred to me that the tightness, the frustration and the anger, might not have been entirely mine. Cu Sith and Arachne—the two Faerie spirits using us as carryalls—famously hated one another. Still, I couldn’t blame the fact he was a selfish ass on Cu Sith; that was all on him.

  “They started the party without me.” Reign turned his attention downstreet, toward the sirens and chaos. Blue police lights strobed across his face, sharpening already devastating features.

  “Samuel opened the catacombs. He’s trying to weave a path back to Faerie—”

  “Samuel?” His attention snapped right back to me. His tricolored eyes widened and his smile twitched, coming alive. “Samuel did this?” His low chuckle had my treacherous insides fluttering. “You do pick ’em, American Girl.”

  I clenched my hand into a fist, wanting to punch that smile off his face. Focus. If he didn’t know about Samuel, how had he known to be at Trafalgar? “Nyx didn’t tell you?”

  “I haven’t seen your FA friend. I came because of the draíocht. There’s no fae in London who can resist its call. It sounds like promises.” He lifted his head and the green hue bleeding through the sky also played in his eyes. “Reminds
me of home.”

  “And you just happened to find me?”

  Amusement tugged on the corner of his lips. “You feel like promises. I’d know you blind.” Something primal hid in the glare he raked over me; the hound. His eyes weren’t bleeding red, so he wasn’t turning, but the beast was there, stalking just below the surface.

  He leaned close, bringing himself well inside my personal space. I had to tip my head to look up at him. He canted his head to the side. “Does Arachne control you or are you controlling her?”

  “You knew all along, didn’t you?”

  He shrugged. “Some things you need to discover on your own.”

  I wanted to punch him all over again. He could have told me weeks ago. At least then I might have been more prepared. Those lingering glances, the pregnant silences; he’d always known. Pressing my lips together, I clenched my hand and bowed my head. This wasn’t the time or the place for this discussion. “While we’re talking, fae are dying—”

  “Do you believe you can control me?”

  “We’re about to find out,” I replied, not giving an inch, but resting my hand on my dagger should I need it.

  A smile fluttered across his lips. He turned and started toward Trafalgar. “Don’t they know the party doesn’t start till I walk in.”

  “Reign, wait, you can’t just—”

  He shot me a raised eyebrow as I jogged alongside him. “You’ve met the hound. I’m certain it doesn’t need an invite.” His smile was a mask, so was his swagger. The many-faced rock star. But I knew the truth. Behind all the bullshit, he was afraid.

  “Just, listen—” I caught his sleeve and pulled him up short. I knew that he had nothing left to lose. He’d let go, let the hound have him, whatever the outcome. “Just remember who you are, okay?”

  He tugged his arm free of my grip. “Perhaps you should listen to your own advice.”

  “I’m not the one—”

  He grabbed me by the arms and pulled me up, almost off my feet. “You had better know exactly what you’re doing, Alina.” His growl rumbled through him, through me. “The hound won’t suffer a weak little construct pulling on its reins. One wrong thought, one fuckup—you’ll get people killed. If you’re not up to this, it will kill you, and every other fae it can sink its teeth into. And it’s not the only one. If you think for one second that thing inside of you is content, then it’s already beaten you. There’s a reason all of Faerie fears the three spirits. And two are right here. You’d better know exactly what you’re walking into or trust me, nothing walks out of this alive.”