Page 4

Sav

I pressed against the alley wall, heart battering my chest. I’d seen the flames.

Heard the screams. They were dead. No fae could withstand iron, and nothing living could survive a fire like that.

A desperate part of me wanted to go back for them, to help them, but bound as I was—magickless—I was as pathetic as a human.

I had to regroup and form a plan, but first, I needed to stow my bag somewhere until I was sure it was safe. There was only one place to hide it. The bar.

Crossing cracked pavement, I glanced up and down the path, ensuring none of the people from that horrid scene had strayed this far.

I dashed behind the counter, taking out the box labeled onions, uncloaked its masking spell, and dumped my satchel inside.

I didn’t like leaving it there, but if humans got ahold of it, all hope was lost. My gaze darted to the empty stool where Brixz had been, and I gasped around a pained breath.

An image of his ruined face flashed through my mind.

I bit back a sob. I would not cry. Brixz needed me to keep it together. I had to find Juniper and figure out how to help all the captured fae. To demand retribution for what they did to us.

Giving the cloaked box a quick once over, I nodded to myself and stood, moving to the door.

I glanced over my shoulder, grimacing at the empty space.

How had I spent three years working here, allowing humans to paw at me and gawk, to leer and make jokes at our expense?

How had I sat by and waited for this to happen?

I moved quickly, darting behind a building across the street from Central Park.

Flames stretched high as my former dwelling was consumed. The fire’s tendrils reached for me, choking the sky with an oppressive haze. It burned my lungs, tasting like ash, and I drew shallow breaths, scanning the poorly lit space.

It was truly dark now and the thick smoke filling the air made it hard to see from this far, but park lights refracted off metal chains and nets wrapped around fae of all kinds. I could just make out their shapes as humans overwhelmed the burned and battered folk still struggling to escape.

My fingers twitched at my sides as the need to do something, to help them took hold of me.

A large goblin who had fought his binding more than any of us, clearing a path through people with relentless force, was slumped in defeat, thick metal chains sizzling against his muscled arms.

Fury burned in my veins as despair clouded his vision and he sagged against his manacles.

Sparks leaped from the building and still no fire trucks or ambulances arrived. Morbidly, I wondered if any would or if the humans would risk widespread destruction if there was even a slim chance the flames might turn south and wipe out the pockets granting access to what remained of Faerie.

As my apartment crumbled, large chunks of burning debris crashed to the ground. The fighting paused as people and fae alike dodged out of the way to save themselves. Smoke blackened the sky, blotting out the waning light, casting the world into eerie darkness.

A human screamed.

I squeezed my trembling hands into fists. I should be the one to make them scream, to revel in their demise. My gaze landed on a shape I recognized, and fire blazed to life in my chest. Dane Clyde would die by my blade. That was a promise I made to the stars and felt the magic accept my bargain.

Heat sizzled in my veins as he sent hand signals to a few militant looking men and women who grabbed their victims by their chains and nets and began dragging them away.

Most of the crowd—fae and human alike—was too busy dodging flaming debris to notice their exit as they took mostly smaller creatures, ones who were easier to carry, leaving the larger folk behind.

I skirted around the building, dashing across the street, keeping Dane in sight.

Snaking along the alley behind Central Park West, attempting to keep a safe distance from falling debris, I swore when they rounded a corner and disappeared.

I sped up, darting into an alley, when a voice rang above the crowd.

I already knew the voice, but undiluted power dragged my gaze to her, and I glared up at Morgan, Emissary of the autumn court.

Black wings beat rapidly, floating several feet overhead, and blood-red eyes raked over the carnage with the same lack of empathy she’d shown our kind when the laws were passed that banished low fae here.

Morgan had a choice. She came because she wanted what so many of the high fae coveted above all else.

Power. In the human realm, there was no one to challenge her.

No one to stop her from lording her position over the creatures we were meant to protect.

She was given magic, as all high fae were, to protect those beneath her.

Instead, she used her station and her gifts to install herself in a role greater than she would have ever achieved in Faerie.

I would have spit in her face if her magic wasn’t currently compelling me to stand perfectly still.

“Good Humans,” her ethereal voice chimed. “Do not fear, we, the autumn court, will protect you from this disaster.”

I ground my teeth. Leave it to Morgan to use this tragic situation to further her own agenda. She snapped pale fingers, and the flames evaporated. Several people gasped. Smoke hissed and choked the sky as the wood continued to collapse in on itself.

She may have been willing to put out the fire, but there was no way a high fae would clean up that mess. “You see,” she said. “We turn our cheek to the hands that slap us and provide this gesture of goodwill to show that peace above all else is what we desire with you.”

Was she serious? She was going to let them get away with this?

All across the park, people dropped their shovels, swords, and chains and stared up at Morgan.

“Return to your home, humans. Fae who have been displaced, we bid you return to Faerie through the appropriate court access point and receive instruction on your new dwellings.” Golden curls framed her face, making her look ethereal as she floated above us all.

I snorted. Only Morgan could make a command sound like a request. The humans may have believed her magnanimous bullshit, but not one of my kind mistook her words for anything other than a summons from their court.

They were expected to return to Faerie. Or else.

She disappeared, and her magic released me.

I glanced back into the dark alley, but Dane and his band of bigots were gone.

My ear twitched as the buzz of murmured voices at my back grew louder—angrier—and I whipped around. The humans she had just saved debated what to do next. Folk were hunched in on themselves, arms secured behind their backs. Some had stakes through their hands and feet, pinning them to the ground.

She hadn’t freed them. She hadn’t fucking freed them.

I scanned the creatures, searching for Brixz or Juniper, but the air was too thick with smoke and the humans had clustered too densely around them for me to tell.

These people weren’t members of the AFF though, perhaps they would disburse peacefully.

As I watched with growing unease, my stomach sank.

They wouldn’t. What was worse, I was bound.

If they killed them right now, I could do nothing about it.

The magic of her command was already beginning to chafe. The compulsion sank into my chest. Every step away from the park sent sparks down my spine. Go home, it whispered. Go. Home.

I would return to Faerie; demand we do something about Dane, and free our kind. I would do what Morgan clearly had no intention of doing. But first, I needed to help as many of the fae in Central Park as I could before Dane came back to drag them away, or kill them where they lay.

I left Central Park, turned down Birdie Path, flipping the finger at the NYPD precinct as I passed by several officers huddled inside, and broke into a jog.

Reaching down, I wrenched a shoe off each foot, tossing them into a nearby bush. Bare feet slapping against pavement, I ran around the back of the Met building and down Fifth Ave. A soft chant started in my head as a smile spread across my face. We don’t need no assimilation.