* * *

• • •

They stood in two tight lines that formed a V, all in green tunics. All of them were fit. None too old; none too young. I guessed these were the soldiers—the warriors—and all of them had weapons. Straight swords, longbows, and daggers. Not a single gun or modern weapon, at least that I could see.

At the junction of the lines, facing us directly, their apparent master. Ruadan.

Claudia was nowhere in sight, which made me wonder: Was Ruadan here because Claudia had directed him, or because he’d overridden her command? Dragged her from her room in the castle and put himself in charge? And, maybe more important, were the fairies behind him loyal to Claudia or to Ruadan? How many rules were they willing to break for their would-be king?

“I’m alerting the CPD,” Theo quietly said, and tapped fingers against his screen even as he kept his gaze on the fairies. “Requesting significant backup.”

“Good plan,” I said quietly.

“Ruadan,” Theo said, when he’d put the screen away again, “what are you doing here?”

“Is this not a public park?” Ruadan asked with a sneer. “Are we not entitled to use it?”

“Is that all you’re doing?” Theo asked. “Planning an evening picnic?”

“Or maybe a group photo?” I offered, trying for bravado I didn’t really feel. Because while there was a part of me that wanted to fight—and the monster was eager for it—we were severely outnumbered.

“Oh, nice,” Theo said with a smile. “A group photo.” He looked around. “But I don’t see a photographer.”

“You dare mock me.” Ruadan’s expression was hard, furious magic beginning to pump from the fairies with almost the same ferocity as the vibrations beneath the street. “In that case, we claim this land—what you call Grant Park—for ourselves.”

“Who, exactly, is ‘we’?” I asked, and Ruadan’s gaze shifted to me, and his lips curled into a smile that made me want to shrink back into my skin. It was that look I’d seen before, the interest I didn’t like.

“I speak for the fairies,” he said.

“Does that include Claudia?” I asked.

His expression didn’t change. But there was a twitch at the corner of his eye that said he didn’t like the question.

“Where is she, Ruadan?” I asked, but kept my gaze on the fairies, wondering how they’d respond.

“Her location is not relevant,” Ruadan said. And the fairies’ expressions stayed blank. Maybe they didn’t know where she was. . . . Or maybe they didn’t care.

“It is relevant, because one hundred fairies have taken what appears to be a very aggressive position against the City of Chicago.” Theo slid his hands into his pockets like a man only mildly interested in the conversation. For the first time, I could see the former cop in Theo’s eyes.

“You mock us,” he continued. “You’re not here for enjoyment. Your people are armed. You’ve demanded property owned by the city, and I’m pretty sure you’ve already decided to fight. You know I’m not going to hand Grant Park over to you.”

Ruadan’s lip curled in obvious disgust. “We are older than your species, than your nation. We are better than you in every conceivable way.”

“But you need a few acres of brick and grass?”

“For reasons that are ours to know.”

“The Ombudsman’s office would disagree with you.”

“We have spoken with your Ombudsman,” Ruadan said, spitting out the word. “We expressed our displeasure with your breach and found a sympathetic ear.” And then he murmured something low and threatening.

With shocking speed, her movements blurred by it, the fairy behind Ruadan—pale skin, paler hair, and a narrow face that ended in a pointed chin—launched forward at Theo.

She looked so delicate, but there was nothing delicate about the blade she flipped from her tunic and held at Theo’s throat. His eyes flashed to the blade, then up to me. But he didn’t move. He might have been human, but he had vampire-level chill. Unlike the fairies, who’d become blade-happy.

“If you will not give this land to us,” Ruadan said, “we will take it.” Then he settled his gaze on me. “We were unsatisfied by our last encounter. Shedding blood here would provide much-needed resolution.”

I looked at the fairy who held Theo. “A human isn’t much of a conquest, is it? I’d be a much more interesting opponent.”

She apparently agreed, as her blade was suddenly airborne and flying toward me.

I reached out and slapped my palms against the flat of the blade, the gleaming point barely an inch from my face. My heart beat so hard I could see the pulse throbbing in my wrists. And then I shifted my gaze around it to the fairy who’d thrown it.

“You missed,” I said.

She took the bait, pushing Theo backward and jumping toward me.

I flipped the blade to grab the handle, then thrust it down toward her. The fairy spun away at the last minute, so it glanced off her shoulder, scratching fabric but not drawing blood.

She kicked back, sending pain through my knee that was sharp as a hammer strike. I fell to my knees but grabbed her ankle on the way down, yanked it backward. She fell forward, caught herself on her palms, then twisted from the waist like a break-dancer, flipping her legs up and over until she was on her feet.

As if sensing the danger, the monster beat inside me with fists, wanting to join the battle, angry at being restrained when there was fighting to be had.

I pushed it down, which took more than a little energy. I nearly considered, just for a moment, letting it loose to have its way with Ruadan and the rest of them. But I didn’t want Ruadan to see, didn’t want to see victory or validation in his eyes. And if I let it go, let it join the fight—let it kick and punch and spill more blood onto the ground—what kind of monster would that make me?

The fairy kicked, and I fell and rolled across hard brick, then popped to my feet again, sweeping with the knife in front of me. Her chin dipped, and I realized that was her tell, the signal she intended to move. This time she went for the knife and grabbed my wrist. I kicked out, tried to pull away. . . . And the world erupted with noise and wind.

The cavalry had arrived, in the form of two CPD helicopters, spotlights spearing toward the ground. And beneath them, drones with cameras, marked by the television stations that piloted them.

“Supernaturals,” came the call from one of the copters. “Put your hands in the air.”

The fairy dropped her hold, sending me nearly stumbling backward. The spotlight followed as she stepped back into line with the others.

Ruadan looked more irritated than angry or afraid they’d been caught. And when the ground began to rumble again, the buzz of magic flowing up through the ground, I knew why.

“Theo!” I called out over the blades, my hair whipping into my eyes. “They’re using the magic again.”

“You will see,” Ruadan said. “You will see our power and you will fear.”

The world shuddered hard, an earthquake only sups could feel. It threw me off my feet, sending me to my knees, which knocked hard against brick.

Light flashed above me, brilliant and white, leaving a stripe of color seared on my retinas.

And when I could blink again . . . they were gone.

For a full minute, Theo and I stayed in place, just staring at the empty spot where the fairies had been.

“That was . . . weird,” I said, pushing chopper-blown hair out of my eyes.

“Very weird,” Theo said. “And anticlimactic.”

The monster was equally disturbed, and seemed to pace beneath my skin. The fight had been cut short, the enemies disappearing. Much like the fairies, it didn’t like being denied. And it didn’t respect their cowardice.

At least we had that in common.

EIGHTEEN

We were offered bottles of water and checks from EMTs, which we declined. Instead, we sent messages to the people who’d probably seen us on video—or would eventually—to let them know we were fine.

“You’ll want more patrols here,” Theo said to the CPD officer who questioned us. “They’ll probably come back.”

“Great,” the man said. “Just what we freakin’ need right now.” His voice was coated in a thick Chicago accent, and the familiarity made me feel a little better.

“We’ll go to the office,” Theo said, when they’d left us alone.

“Fine by me,” I said, and we walked back to his car.

Theo unlocked the doors, looked at me over the roof. “Are you aware that you can be scary?” He said it with a smile, so I took it as a compliment.