ours. Whenever we’ve had to call the FA in to collect one of their own, we rarely see their suspect in London again. Either they lock them away or
send
them away.”
Secretive, and yet they thrive on attention. All fae loved the limelight. It was part of their natural appeal, their innate confidence. We liked to turn them into celebrities, even though their dreadful allure was how they bespelled us. Talk about the twisted human psyche.
I didn’t believe Reign was bad, but what did I know? I could call it instinct, or intuition, but I was just as susceptible to the fae as anyone else. Life must have been so much easier without them distracting us. “Do you think they’ve always been here?”
“No.” Andrews replied too quickly to leave any room for doubt. “They don’t belong here. In ’74, when they first revealed their existence here, their numbers were sparse and spread far and wide, but now they group … flock together.”
“You sound like you’ve done your homework.”
His pliable smile brightened his expression. “I’ve had reason to.”
I didn’t point out that people flocked in the same way he’d mentioned. “Safety in numbers?”
“Something like that … But I think it has more to do with how they harvest draíocht.” He swallowed and his smile faded, despite his best efforts to keep it there. “Chancery Lane Station, where you met Sovereign … There are disused deep-level tunnels there. Deeper than the Underground. We’ve seen a sharp increase in fae incidents around that location.”
“What sort of incidents?”
“Squabbles between themselves. High incidences of UB’s: unwilling bespellments. Nothing that raises too many questions when looked at individually, but the overall picture tells a different story. Chancery Lane is a fae hot spot.” Andrews’s eyes sparkled, and I got a glimpse of the real guy behind the steely detective. Clearly this was something he felt strongly about.
“You have a theory?”
“Yeah.” He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. “But I can’t tell you much; it’s confidential. I’ve searched Chancery Lane, gone over it with a fine-toothed comb, and officially there’s nothing there.”
“Nothing?”
He slid a surreptitious glance my way, eager to tell me, but perhaps protocol prevented him from spilling trade secrets to the reporter desperate for a story. “Who am I going to tell? No immediate family? Lost my job?”
His smile hiked to one side. “Nice try.” Facing ahead, he turned the key and started the car. “I’ll take you home. That is where you were going, right?”
“I
was
going to cold-call all the other names on the guest list …” I fluttered my lashes, but his unimpressed expression told me he wasn’t buying it. “Home it is.”
Chapter Eight
I climbed from Andrews’s car, thanked him, fumbled with my keys, unlocked the communal door to my apartment building and froze. The sensation of being watched skittered down my spine. Andrews’s car rumbled around the corner at the bottom of the street. For a lunch hour, there should have been more people around, shouldn’t there? My hand itched. Taking a breath, I turned, expecting to see someone behind me, but the street was empty. Okay … The spider incident had obviously rattled my nerves.
I turned the key in the lock, stepped inside, strode to the stairs and paused, foot on the first step. I knew without looking who’d slipped in through the door, and that thought scared me more than his stealthy entry. His soft breaths, the gentle rustle of clothing, and I almost imagined I could hear the steady beat of his heart. But that was impossible.
“Reign …”
“Alina.”
I gripped the cool bannister and turned my head. He stood between me and the door, hand in his pocket, eyebrow arched, scandalous smile on his lips. Considering how he’d abandoned me on the sidewalk, he had no right to look so overtly sexy. My human hormones and instincts battled between
send
them away.”
Secretive, and yet they thrive on attention. All fae loved the limelight. It was part of their natural appeal, their innate confidence. We liked to turn them into celebrities, even though their dreadful allure was how they bespelled us. Talk about the twisted human psyche.
I didn’t believe Reign was bad, but what did I know? I could call it instinct, or intuition, but I was just as susceptible to the fae as anyone else. Life must have been so much easier without them distracting us. “Do you think they’ve always been here?”
“No.” Andrews replied too quickly to leave any room for doubt. “They don’t belong here. In ’74, when they first revealed their existence here, their numbers were sparse and spread far and wide, but now they group … flock together.”
“You sound like you’ve done your homework.”
His pliable smile brightened his expression. “I’ve had reason to.”
I didn’t point out that people flocked in the same way he’d mentioned. “Safety in numbers?”
“Something like that … But I think it has more to do with how they harvest draíocht.” He swallowed and his smile faded, despite his best efforts to keep it there. “Chancery Lane Station, where you met Sovereign … There are disused deep-level tunnels there. Deeper than the Underground. We’ve seen a sharp increase in fae incidents around that location.”
“What sort of incidents?”
“Squabbles between themselves. High incidences of UB’s: unwilling bespellments. Nothing that raises too many questions when looked at individually, but the overall picture tells a different story. Chancery Lane is a fae hot spot.” Andrews’s eyes sparkled, and I got a glimpse of the real guy behind the steely detective. Clearly this was something he felt strongly about.
“You have a theory?”
“Yeah.” He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. “But I can’t tell you much; it’s confidential. I’ve searched Chancery Lane, gone over it with a fine-toothed comb, and officially there’s nothing there.”
“Nothing?”
He slid a surreptitious glance my way, eager to tell me, but perhaps protocol prevented him from spilling trade secrets to the reporter desperate for a story. “Who am I going to tell? No immediate family? Lost my job?”
His smile hiked to one side. “Nice try.” Facing ahead, he turned the key and started the car. “I’ll take you home. That is where you were going, right?”
“I
was
going to cold-call all the other names on the guest list …” I fluttered my lashes, but his unimpressed expression told me he wasn’t buying it. “Home it is.”
Chapter Eight
I climbed from Andrews’s car, thanked him, fumbled with my keys, unlocked the communal door to my apartment building and froze. The sensation of being watched skittered down my spine. Andrews’s car rumbled around the corner at the bottom of the street. For a lunch hour, there should have been more people around, shouldn’t there? My hand itched. Taking a breath, I turned, expecting to see someone behind me, but the street was empty. Okay … The spider incident had obviously rattled my nerves.
I turned the key in the lock, stepped inside, strode to the stairs and paused, foot on the first step. I knew without looking who’d slipped in through the door, and that thought scared me more than his stealthy entry. His soft breaths, the gentle rustle of clothing, and I almost imagined I could hear the steady beat of his heart. But that was impossible.
“Reign …”
“Alina.”
I gripped the cool bannister and turned my head. He stood between me and the door, hand in his pocket, eyebrow arched, scandalous smile on his lips. Considering how he’d abandoned me on the sidewalk, he had no right to look so overtly sexy. My human hormones and instincts battled between
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