City of Shadows by Pippa DaCosta Page B

hadn’t taken the dip in the pool well. But it was the knee to the balls that really hadn’t won me any favors. If Kael hadn’t broken up the fight when he did, the warrior wouldn’t have stopped until I was a bloody mess, or the raging madness took me.
    â€œI’m all that’s left of the queen,” I added, continuing to half jog alongside Kael. “That must mean something.”
    Kael passed through a door and jogged up yet more steps. “And what is it you really want from us?”
    â€œTrain me.”
    A couple of fae passed us by, reserving looks of disdain as they took in my wet and bedraggled state.
    That summoned up a smile onto Kael’s thin, bloodless lips. “I watched you carve through a squad of my best as though they were inanimate objects. I’ve fought you, hand to hand, and that’s not something I’ll forget. What makes you think I can train you?”
    I winced. “I need …” My throat constricted around the truth. “I need someone, something, to focus on. I need a purpose, else I’m afraid I’ll …” With the words out there, it made them and their meaning real. I was afraid that if I stopped, just for a little while, I’d stop altogether.
    â€œAfraid you’ll fade away?” He stopped outside a door that someone had helpfully stuck a LOUNGE sign to. He looked down his nose, his smooth expression cutting into a frown. “That fact, Construct, is inevitable. Now remove yourself from these premises,” he gestured farther down the corridor, “before I have my warriors finish you.”
    â€œDo it.” Pushing my wet hair back, I glared up at him. “They could have killed me then, but didn’t.”
    â€œYou could have killed them.” He crossed his arms and looked deeper into me, perhaps trying to understand the riddle of the construct. “Why didn’t you?”
    Standing so close, wilting a little beneath his gaze, I fought the urge to shiver. His gray eyes weren’t like the other fae’s; most were beautiful, his were cruel. “I … I didn’t want to.”
    He laughed, and the sound of it rolled down the corridor, scattering goose bumps across my damp skin. “A construct that wants. One with a conscience. I don’t know if the queen would be proud or disgusted.”
    That made two of us. “What have you got to lose?”
    His cold eyes narrowed to slits. “Prove to me your worth and I’ll recruit you, if you survive among my ranks, that is. I cannot guarantee your protection, nor would I. If you can’t survive them, then you’re worthless to us—to me.” He turned and pushed through the door into the lounge.
    Dripping wet, but with a new fire in my gut, I followed him.
    When Reign had first taken me to Under, I’d stumbled into the London fae’s underground chamber and found the fae there sprawled over every conceivable surface, like stray cats in a rescue sanctuary. Pedigree cats, of course, but cats all the same. The fae at Holland Park were the same. I found the majority of them in an opulent double-height lounge, bristling with weaponry. They sat at tables, lazed across couches, and perched on chair arms. At least thirty pairs of tricolored eyes fixed on me.
    â€œThe construct will be staying with us. Nyx, get her cleaned up.” And with that, Kael left.
    The room full of fae looked at me like they’d quite like to sharpen their blades on my insides. Silence snapped through the air. An uneasiness crawled up my spine. The urge to attack coiled in their stillness. My fingers twitched, palms itching for my daggers. A chair scraped, the sound slicing through the quiet. A fae strode from one of the tables and passed by me. Another dropped off the edge of a table and gave me a wide berth as he left the room, his gaze averted. They all moved then, climbing from their relaxed positions, to flow around me and out