tasting the forbidden and running for the hills. His gaze dropped to the Fae Survival Pack in my hand. I shook my head and began to climb the stairs.
“Did you have a nice chat with the detective?” he asked, footfalls soft on the stairs behind me.
“Yes, thank you.”
“He thinks I’ve bespelled you?”
“Yes.”
“Do you feel anything for me?”
“You mean besides the overwhelming desire to slap you? No, not so much.”
“Then you’re not bespelled. You don’t need a propaganda pack to tell you that.”
“What do you want Reign? You’re obviously following me, which is taking creepy to a whole new level.”
“I have better things to do than trail you around London. Mostly I have issues with people following me.”
I noticed he hadn’t actually answered, but I let it slide, for now. “Like the Fae Authority?” I stopped on the landing of the stairs. He stood a few steps down, looking innocent with his wide, beguiling eyes. Did he deliberately turn that look on and off? Like the rest of him, it was damned distracting. “Did you know a fae was killed at your after-party?”
The sweetness and light dashed from his face, chased by shadows. He reached for the railing and gripped it tight enough to whiten his knuckles. “You have to let this go.”
“No, I really don’t. You implied I’m involved. What was it … ?” Clearing my throat, I dropped my voice and tried on my best sexy-fae timbre: ‘This isn’t my story, Alina …’ What does that mean?”
He screwed up his nose. “I most definitely don’t sound like that.”
“Who’s the queen? Why is she being kept a secret?” With a look of frustration on his face, he climbed the few steps between us and reached for me, but I shook him off. “Don’t touch me, Reign. I mean it. So help me God, I’ll hit you with this pack.” I waved the pack in a threatening manner; not an easy thing to do.
He choked off a laugh. Lifting his hands in surrender he stepped down a step. “Okay.”
“It’s not even remotely funny.”
He cleared his throat and coughed into his hand. “No, not funny. You’re quite formidable when brandishing paperwork.”
Narrowing my eyes, I tried to exude pissed-off vibes, but his smile undermined my attempts. I lowered the file. “Just tell me the truth.”
“If it was that easy, I would.”
More vagueness. Evasiveness must have been another of his so-called talents. “I’m not letting this go. You and Andrews can warn me off all you like, but it only makes me more determined.”
He shifted on the spot, drawing in a deep breath. A frown touched his face as he dropped his gaze. “Why are you doing this?”
“Doing what exactly? My job?”
“You were fired.”
“That’s temporary,” I said, flustered.
“You want the story, is that all?”
“Yes.” His suspicious scowl cut right though my blasé attitude. “To begin with, yes. But there’s more happening here. The fae came out forty years ago, and not once has a queen been mentioned.” I shrugged, “Maybe it’s nothing, but hours after I meet you, I have the cops at my door and spiders talking to me. Talking spiders, Reign.” My raised voice echoed around the stairwell. “That’s not normal. What aren’t the fae telling us? What aren’t you telling me?” He blinked back at me, impossibly innocent. “You know everything, don’t you? And you won’t tell me. Why?”
“Because the truth won’t change anything.”
“Answers like that only make me more determined. We trust the fae. At first, we didn’t, but the Trinity Law changed all that. We
love
the fae, with all your prettiness”—I waved a hand at him—“even though you’re all toxic. We just can’t help ourselves. Reign, there’s more to this, I feel it … Look me in the eye and tell me I’m wrong, tell me there’s nothing to worry about.” He looked me in the eyes and smiled. I knew it. “This is bigger than me. I can’t walk away.”
His smile slid sideways off
“Did you have a nice chat with the detective?” he asked, footfalls soft on the stairs behind me.
“Yes, thank you.”
“He thinks I’ve bespelled you?”
“Yes.”
“Do you feel anything for me?”
“You mean besides the overwhelming desire to slap you? No, not so much.”
“Then you’re not bespelled. You don’t need a propaganda pack to tell you that.”
“What do you want Reign? You’re obviously following me, which is taking creepy to a whole new level.”
“I have better things to do than trail you around London. Mostly I have issues with people following me.”
I noticed he hadn’t actually answered, but I let it slide, for now. “Like the Fae Authority?” I stopped on the landing of the stairs. He stood a few steps down, looking innocent with his wide, beguiling eyes. Did he deliberately turn that look on and off? Like the rest of him, it was damned distracting. “Did you know a fae was killed at your after-party?”
The sweetness and light dashed from his face, chased by shadows. He reached for the railing and gripped it tight enough to whiten his knuckles. “You have to let this go.”
“No, I really don’t. You implied I’m involved. What was it … ?” Clearing my throat, I dropped my voice and tried on my best sexy-fae timbre: ‘This isn’t my story, Alina …’ What does that mean?”
He screwed up his nose. “I most definitely don’t sound like that.”
“Who’s the queen? Why is she being kept a secret?” With a look of frustration on his face, he climbed the few steps between us and reached for me, but I shook him off. “Don’t touch me, Reign. I mean it. So help me God, I’ll hit you with this pack.” I waved the pack in a threatening manner; not an easy thing to do.
He choked off a laugh. Lifting his hands in surrender he stepped down a step. “Okay.”
“It’s not even remotely funny.”
He cleared his throat and coughed into his hand. “No, not funny. You’re quite formidable when brandishing paperwork.”
Narrowing my eyes, I tried to exude pissed-off vibes, but his smile undermined my attempts. I lowered the file. “Just tell me the truth.”
“If it was that easy, I would.”
More vagueness. Evasiveness must have been another of his so-called talents. “I’m not letting this go. You and Andrews can warn me off all you like, but it only makes me more determined.”
He shifted on the spot, drawing in a deep breath. A frown touched his face as he dropped his gaze. “Why are you doing this?”
“Doing what exactly? My job?”
“You were fired.”
“That’s temporary,” I said, flustered.
“You want the story, is that all?”
“Yes.” His suspicious scowl cut right though my blasé attitude. “To begin with, yes. But there’s more happening here. The fae came out forty years ago, and not once has a queen been mentioned.” I shrugged, “Maybe it’s nothing, but hours after I meet you, I have the cops at my door and spiders talking to me. Talking spiders, Reign.” My raised voice echoed around the stairwell. “That’s not normal. What aren’t the fae telling us? What aren’t you telling me?” He blinked back at me, impossibly innocent. “You know everything, don’t you? And you won’t tell me. Why?”
“Because the truth won’t change anything.”
“Answers like that only make me more determined. We trust the fae. At first, we didn’t, but the Trinity Law changed all that. We
love
the fae, with all your prettiness”—I waved a hand at him—“even though you’re all toxic. We just can’t help ourselves. Reign, there’s more to this, I feel it … Look me in the eye and tell me I’m wrong, tell me there’s nothing to worry about.” He looked me in the eyes and smiled. I knew it. “This is bigger than me. I can’t walk away.”
His smile slid sideways off
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