Page 42 of The Midnight Death Match

Without turning, I speak. “I wondered when you’d show up.”

“You came.” Lys’s voice is soft as he steps out from behind a crumbled pillar. He approaches slowly, not close enough to threaten, but close enough to share the thick air between us. “You shouldn’t be out here alone.”

“Neither should you.” I finally meet his gaze.

His eyes seem brighter tonight, as if lit faintly from within. Not glowing like the corrupted fae I’ve seen, but sharp, precise. Alive. “You feel it too, don’t you? The pull. The city waking.”

I nod. “It feels like it’s breathing.”

“It is.”

“That isn’t possible.”

“You only say that because you spent your entire life in a human colony.”

My mouth drops. “How did you know?”

“I’ve been tracing the bloodlines for a great many years.”

“Speaking in riddles again, I see.”

A hint of a smile tugs on his mouth. “Not this time, huntress.”

“Then speak more clearly.”

His expression turns serious. “I’m hardly the only fae who has been waiting for the first female hunter to come into her powers.”

My chest tightens. “People know?”

Lys nods, his expression grave.

“Who?”

“Those interested in bloodlines and curses.”

“You’re seriously frustrating.” I’m beginning to see why Harek doesn’t like him.

He straightens his back. “The scholars, for one.”

“Who else?”

“Others. Ancient ones who stay cloaked with magic so old it should be dead.”

That catches my attention. “What dotheywant with me?”

Lys shrugs, as if it wasn’t my life on the line.

“What aren’t you telling me?” I narrow my eyes and step toward him.

He holds up his palms. “Easy. I’m not the one threatening you.”

“Then who is?”

“Like I said, the ancient ones. I’m nowhere near their inner circle—or even their outer ones—so I don’t have any intel to give you. All I know is they’re also watching you.”

“Because I’m the first huntress?”

“Correct.”