City of Fae (26 page)

He staggered and glared, chin dipped, eyes fierce. “More than you’ll ever know.”

“Then perhaps it’s time to have the puppy put down.” I tasted blood and spat. Pain fuelled the thrill strumming through me. This was where I was meant to be. Everything I lived for, everything I’d been created for, came down to this moment.

“Alina was twice the woman you are.”

“Alina was broken.”

He blinked out of existence—gone—and in the next moment I felt the press of his cool blade against my throat and the press of his warm body against my back. “Why do you still wear my coat if you’re the queen’s stone-cold killer?” he whispered, fluttering the words against my neck.

My lips parted, the reply balanced on the tip of my tongue, but the words failed to come. I meant to say the coat meant nothing, but even as the reply formed in my head, so did the memory of him awkwardly handing me the garment by the docks and then almost plucking me off my feet to hold me close. And with that memory, others tumbled forth, of his indecent chuckle, the way his lithe fingers danced, how he moved with an impossible combination of solid confidence and liquid grace. His breath played on the skin of my neck as I remembered exactly how I’d kissed him on the rooftop, how he’d told me all he wanted was something real, and how his touch left me breathless. The impossible contradiction of Reign assaulted my memories, discarded the debris of my old manufactured life and replaced it with the bright potential of an existence I’d carved for myself.

“Alina …”

Every inch of him molded against my back and I forgot the kiss of the dagger at my throat. With every breath he pressed closer. He curled his free arm around my waist, holding me tight, preventing my escape. I wasn’t sure if he trembled, or I did. Still I fought, battling on all fronts with my own nature, the rules I must follow, the desires that weren’t mine, and the darkness that sought to drown me. But he smelled spellbinding, sweet, intoxicating, delicious. It wouldn’t take much to let go, to allow myself this tiny lapse, to lean back and relax in his arms. For just a little while, I could be Alina again.

I only realized I’d turned my head away when the ghost of a kiss fluttered at my neck. My breath stuttered, hitching in my throat, even as his blade nicked my skin.

“There’s so much you’ve never known. To dance, to love …” The whispers teased against my neck just as his kiss had. “The queen will not allow you to live. You’ll be gone … Nothing more than a memory.”

“Memories have more power than you know.” New wicked and delicious sensations fed through me. I wanted this. It wasn’t an order or part of some grand plan. It was me. Tingling fragments of draíocht fizzled where his lips settled and then moved on. It was only the dagger hooked at my throat stopping me from twisting in his grip and devouring him. “Reign … I don’t trust myself not to hurt you.”

“That makes two of us.” His voice trailed off behind a growl. Fear mingled with desire, instincts vying for control. The blade at my throat withdrew enough to allow me to breathe, but it wasn’t breath I needed. I twisted in his grip, threaded my fingers through his hair, and pulled him down into a kiss that banished any thoughts of the queen, or the concert, or who I was meant to be. He dropped the dagger, let it clatter to the floor. His arm tightened, yanking me hard against him, while his free hand knotted in my hair, clutching me so damn close that I couldn’t think past the raging desire, and didn’t want to. Driving him back against a dressing table, I reached for somewhere to put the dagger, then didn’t care, and I let it slip from my fingers so I could ease my hand beneath his shirt, over the tantalizing ripple of muscles, and soak up the feverish warmth of him. Nerves shortened my heartbeat, kicking up the tempo. Different, enticing tingles skittered low.

“Tap-tap, Alina …”

I nipped at his lip, let him chase my mouth for more, delighted at his growl of frustration, and then succumbed to his savage, hungry mouth. The queen didn’t matter. Nothing did. He was all I needed to ground me, to remind me, to bring me back from the insanity and make me whole again, make me Alina.

“I can’t …” He tore away from me, simultaneously shoving me back. Blood-red pupils consumed the tricolor eyes, bleeding the hound into his face. He stumbled and fell to his knees, bracing a hand against the floor. “You bring the worst out in me.” He breathed, grinding out the words between clenched teeth.

I stepped back, remembering who I was, and where I was, and what I was supposed to be doing. But finding it all dislocated and jumbled. A jigsaw puzzle yet to be completed. The sight of Reign—breathing hard, fast, fingernails scoring the floor—dumped me back into reality. The hound was coming. That monster I’d witnessed on the dockside would be free in seconds. I stepped forward, but he hissed, words failing.

“Reign …” I couldn’t leave him, and couldn’t let this happen. If the hound got free now, it would tear through the crowd. What was it Shay had said? That there might be a way I could control it, like the queen did. Both daggers lay on the floor between us. He couldn’t be allowed to get free. He would never forgive himself if the hound got loose. Reign glared, forcing each strained breath through his teeth. His all-red eyes fixed on the daggers, and then back to me. I could either help him or kill him.

“Reign, I …”

He bent over, releasing a pained groan as draíocht vapor spiraled from his flesh. “Do it.”

Minutes before I’d have killed him without a second thought. But he’d brought me back. Surely there had to be a way to do the same for him? I dropped to my knees beside him. He flinched away. “I can’t make it any worse.” I reached out a trembling hand. His predatory glare fixed on my fingers as though he might tear my hand off. I inched forward, closer to his face. Draíocht rose from his cheek and swirled around my fingers, licking cool and smooth at my skin. “You said when you stole my draíocht, you took some of the queen into you. So I’m taking it back, maybe I can take some of the hound into me.” My smooth, even voice belied the fear churning inside.
Stay calm. Stay in control. Don’t provoke the hound.

My fingertips brushed his cheek. Sparks danced through our touch, over the back of my hand and jolted up my arm. I almost wrenched away. Draíocht vapor lapped over my hand and round my wrist, before dissipating. And Reign? Reign stared, wild-eyed and unblinking. Sawing breaths shuddered through his body.

“Maybe …” I whispered. “Maybe I can control these terrible things inside us, maybe I can help you, like Shay said.” His eyes widened. Emotional anguish contorted his expression. He bucked and collapsed. I don’t know if it was mention of Shay, or the words themselves, that broke him. I settled my hand on his shoulder, soaking up the wracking shivers assaulting his body, and waited for him to change or ride it out. “Maybe together we can harness the hound and protect the people here. Is it too much to hope there might be some good in us?”

Minutes passed. I didn’t know if he’d heard anything I’d said, but I hoped he had. If memories of us together could push back the touch of the queen in my head, maybe those same memories would help Reign control the hound. Or maybe it was the foolish hope of a week-old girl. Reign’s shivering ceased, and once his breath slowed, he said quietly. “It’s never too much to hope for good.” He blinked his normal fae eyes up at me. He was back. He’d beaten it. For now.

Much of me wanted to throw my arms around Reign and drag him into a soul-sundering kiss, but that would very likely tip him over the edge again.

Slowly, carefully, I shifted away and stood on surprisingly steady legs. I’d have offered to help him up, but that probably wouldn’t end well either. The best thing I could do was leave. We had to clear the arena, get the public out. “We need to warn everyone. She’s close, Reign … I feel her.” A beat hammered in my chest, but it wasn’t
my
heartbeat. It was hers. The queens controlling rhythm. I’d escaped her clutches, but she was still inside me. She always would be.

The twin daggers glinted on the floor. Reign arched a brow as he saw my gaze linger on them. Climbing to his feet, using the dressing table for support, he slumped against its edge. “I will warn them, but I have to finish this.”

“You can’t continue with the concert.”

He lifted his head. His weakness faded away behind a determined glare. “I have to. It’s all I have. This is it for me, Alina. When she comes, I’ll release the hound, and pray to Faerie the thing goes after her, but until then—until everything I’ve worked for comes crashing down, I need to finish this.”

“Reign …” he threw me a look that said he wasn’t negotiating. Considering how close we’d come to killing each other, I stayed quiet.

“This is my fault,” he said. “Had I not killed the Keepers, none of this would be happening. I fully intend to throw everything I have at her. Maybe I can focus the hound somehow. Whatever happens, she’ll likely kill me, but I’ll die taking the bitch with me.”

“This isn’t your fault. She’d have found someone else to manipulate.”

“But she found me.” He stood and scooped the daggers off the floor. He weighed them in his hands, and seemed to consider his options, before handing them out. “Know that if I see you helping her, I’ll finish this between us.”

I met and held his gaze. He would. And perhaps, if it came to it, I’d have it in me to finish him too. What a terrible pair we made. Drawn together and pulled apart. “If I revert back to that, I’ll welcome it.” I took the daggers. A satisfied smile alighted my lips. The killer in me—the part that itched to fight—
her
influence, would always be there. At least until I met my expiration date. “If you wait until the concert is over, it might be too late.”

He gave me a purely fae glare, a look left over from another world, eyes ablaze, jaw set, a look from when he’d been a warrior; once. “I won’t let her hurt them.” That look told me he’d sacrificed himself before. He’d do it again.

I straightened my shoulders and shut down my emotions. “Did you really bespell someone?”

He winced. “Yes. I had no choice. The appearance of the hound at the docks left me weak, and tonight … tonight I need to be all I can be.”

My stomach turned, whether from nerves or regret, I wasn’t sure. I knew what he was, I knew what he had to do, but that didn’t make it right. It never would.

Head bowed, eyes up, peering at me through his lashes, he said, “I can’t apologize for what I am, Alina.”

I sucked in a breath. “Neither can I.”

I couldn’t think about what might happen. About the fact I might not survive, or how I’d been ready and capable of killing Reign, or how even now the queen’s touch spilled through my veins. None of that changed the now. The now was me standing at the side of the stage, out of sight, but close enough to see the sea of people stretching into the back of the bowl-shaped arena.

Touched
came on for their closing session, and Sovereign played the crowd as though he hadn’t had some half-crazed queen’s construct go at him with daggers, and then battled the spirit of an ancient hound for control. Owning the stage, and the music, his glorious voice touched thousands. I’d be damned if he died tonight. Perhaps, because I was meant to kill him, I’d fight to my last breath to make sure that didn’t happen. Did he deserve to be saved? Didn’t everyone, deep down? Reign wasn’t what he appeared to be and I was only now beginning to understand what that meant. Few had the luxury of being known for who they truly were.

I didn’t agree with the delay in getting the arena evacuated, and I had every intention of setting off the fire alarms once the band got into their stride. Reign would hate me, but really, I’d rather he added it to his list of reasons to hate Alina, than left it too long, and served up twenty thousand people on a platter to the queen. And she really was close. I felt her as surely as I could hear her heart pounding in my ears. My body still buzzed with the remnants of my encounter with Reign, the near miss with the hound, and more … When the queen had taken me, patched me up, and sent me on my merry way to kill Reign, she’d somehow rewritten my thoughts, or tried to. It was likely her suggestion wasn’t sticking because I was running on empty.

What if I flip to the dark side again when she comes?
Yet another thing it was better not to think about. At least I
could
think for myself. Free will was a wonderful thing, and I really didn’t want to lose mine again.

Touched
finished up a recent hit. I turned away from the performance to search for a fire alarm, or somewhere I could start a fire. Backstage was a maze of corridors packed with event staff and hangers-on. My presence went unnoticed, thanks to Reign giving me a pass to pin to my coat. My pace quickened as the ground and walls trembled. Hopefully, the grumbling was part of the special effects on stage, and not the queen beneath my feet. Were there tunnels under the O
₂
Arena? In all likelihood. London was riddled with tunnels, like an ant’s nest, only the ants under London happened to be monsters dressed like every human’s fantasy. My pace quickened and my heart raced. I had to get those people out. The arena itself was just a small part of the vast O
₂
venue. Outside boasted an eleven-screen cinema, plus countless restaurants, bars, and cafés. How was I going to spook the crowd? It would take nothing short of a terrorist alert to clear the place.

“Alina …”

I spun. Andrews wove his way around the staff toward me. His slate-gray suit and dark-blue coat screamed “cop” without him having to flash a badge. Relief lifted a weight from my shoulders. I hadn’t realized just how much I’d wanted to see him again, and how deeply I’d believed I wouldn’t.

Out of breath, he drew me to one side. “Listen, I have Armed Response rallying outside, but they won’t make a move unless something happens.”

“That’ll be too late.”

He winced, and his lips turned down in a grimace. “I can’t authorize them to storm the arena, I don’t have that much clout. I’ve pulled in enough favors as it is, just to get them here.”