City of Fae

“I don’t care where. They’re too close. I have to …” He flinched, and a swathe of numbness wrapped around my arm.

“Sovereign, damn it, let go.” Seconds passed. He searched my face, looking for what I have no idea, but he seemed to find it. His fingers released, and a tingling warmth spilled into the void left by the numbness. I stood, rubbing feeling back into my hand. I could have walked by him the first time I’d seen him. I should have walked away then, for the second time. Or maybe the choice was never mine to make. “Asshole.”

His hard smile twitched. “Nice to meet you.” He held out a fine-fingered hand that hadn’t seen a day’s hard labor in its life. “Help me up.”

“I’m not helping you up. You just assaulted me.” He moved slowly, languidly rolled on his side and onto a knee, as though it pained him. Was he faking it? The fae weren’t like this. They were all catwalk grace and acute control. He looked like he’d been run over by a bus. With a frustrated growl, I clasped his sleeve and pulled. He stumbled to his feet, leaning into me. The Trinity Law was very clear when dealing with the fae. Look, but don’t touch was the first level of protection. I shoved him back and shot him a scowl.

He straightened to his impressive six-foot-plus height, rolled his shoulders to work out the kinks, and checked the platform around us, eyes darting. He fixed his gaze on the exits. Looking for crazed fangirls, perhaps? Commuters filed onto the subway cars, oblivious to my altercation with a fae. Was it fear that had him on high alert? What on earth could spook a fae like him? I found myself checking the exits too; his anxiety contagious.

“You got a problem with the fae?” he asked.

Who didn’t? “No. It’s just … I’ve never seen one up close before.” I’d interviewed plenty of their victims, though.

“Congratulations. Now you have.” His sneer was back, masquerading as a smile. He dipped his chin, and those gorgeous eyes widened, three colors blooming. “I’m sorry I forced the touch. Will you accept my apology?”

I snorted. “Save the sweet talk. I know who you are, and I’m not falling for it.”

“Fine.” The magic pooling in his eyes dissipated. “Could you at least help me onto the train?”

This was my chance to wash my hands of him. I could have looked back on the encounter and thanked lady luck I’d walked away. He’d already broken the first law. A woman smarter than I would have told him exactly where to go. But I needed my scoop if I was going to fight for my job and in terms of newsworthiness, he was hot. “Sure.” I tried out my most genial smile and swept my hair back, hoping he didn’t notice my hand tremble. He seemed to buy it. With seconds to spare, the door-closing alarms beeping a warning, we stumbled into the empty train car. He collapsed onto one of the seats, managing to sprawl lean limbs and commandeer as much space as possible. Movement outside the train caught my eye. Three men spilled onto the platform. All tall, slim, quick as whips, with the same fine bone structure and impossibly perfect conformation. But beneath their long coats I caught a glimpse of polished weaponry. Fae daggers and short swords; blades as lethal as their wielders. Only the elite Fae Authority were permitted to carry blades in public. Well, wasn’t this a night full of surprises. They spotted Sovereign and surged toward our car.

“Friends of yours?” I asked.

Sovereign turned and spat a vivid curse. The faces of the FA darkened with intent. One Authority warrior pointed and barked an order, but our train jerked into motion and pulled out, plunging into the tunnel and away from Reign’s pursuers. It didn’t take a genius to figure out he was in trouble. Standing by the closed doors, I ran my gaze over him once more. Usually preened and styled to rugged perfection on TV, his polished persona had tarnished. Dirt, and what looked suspiciously like splashes of blood, stained his clothes. Look, but don’t touch. Not to be trusted, self-centered, manipulative, only after one thing; the touch. That was the fae.

“What’s your name?” he asked, opening his eyes and fixing them once more on me.

“Alina.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Alina. I’m Sovereign.” He said it as though expecting applause.

I arched an eyebrow. “I know.”

A broad self-important smile cruised across his lips. “Reign to my friends.” And he made it sound like an honor to speak his name.

“You have friends?”

“Ooh.” He clenched a hand over his chest and exaggerated a wince. “Sticks and stones.”

A wild little smile curled my lips before I could shoo it away.

“You’re American?” he asked.