Confessions of a Dangerous Fae (The Supernatural Spy Files Book 1) Read online

  Besides, maybe I could prod him for some information.

  “Yeah, alright,” I grumbled. “You can come along. Just don’t expect to be following me into any change rooms.”

  He flashed me a wicked grin. “If I wanted to get you naked, I wouldn’t need to trap you in a change room.”

  My mouth parted; my heart skipped a beat. Where the hell had that come from?

  Chuckling, he motioned me toward the gate. “That was a joke, Moira. You always seem so tense, so serious about everything.”

  I fell into step beside him. “That’s pretty rich coming from you. You’re like...like the king of being over-serious.”

  “Oh, we’re doing puns now, are we?” He pulled a set of ancient rusted keys from his cloak and unlocked the gate door.

  “That a problem?” I snipped. “You can make jokes about getting me naked, but I can’t use puns?”

  “On the contrary. All jokes are welcome. The Moira, the merrier.” He sniggered.

  “Oh god. That was terrible.” But, somehow, I still found myself laughing.

  We pushed through the gates, and I blew hot breath on my hands as Lugh locked up behind us. It was chilly in Edinburgh when the sun vanished from the sky. That ever-present mist cloaked everything, hiding even the gleaming streetlights in the glum.

  “You’re not from around here, are you?” Lugh asked as we began our descent into the city. “Your accent. It isn’t Scottish.”

  “No,” I admitted. “As I’m sure you can tell, I’m English.”

  Some people were good at putting on accents, but I wasn’t. One of the first things I’d decided about this mission was that being as close to me as possible was the best way to make it as a spy. Fewer things to fake. Fewer lies to remember.

  He cut his eyes my way. “When did you move to Edinburgh?”

  “Oh, about five days ago,” I said with a laugh, but I had to check his face for a reaction. Hopefully, my confession wouldn’t transform him back into that closed-off, suspicious King he liked to be so often. Somehow, it seemed like I’d broken down at least a section of the wall he had erected between himself and the world. I didn’t want him to throw the bricks at my face.

  “Ah.” He nodded. “So, you really did come seeking us out.”

  “Seeking House Athaira out,” I corrected. “I had no idea at all that things had changed.”

  He considered my words for a moment. “And are you disappointed by what you found instead?”

  “I...” Hmph. How was I supposed to answer that? He seemed to be under the strange impression that his Court was some kind of utopia. “Have you already forgotten all that stuff I said? About not feeling welcome?”

  “Unfortunately, no,” he grunted.

  We fell into uncomfortable silence after that. It was impossible to talk to Lugh without one of us winding the other up, or both. He wanted me to love his Court of Wraiths. I wanted him to see how much it sucked arse. We were never going to agree. About anything.

  We passed through the wide open space of the Castle Esplanade, where hundreds of sorcerers—and wrongfully-accused innocent humans—had been burned at the stake during the witch trials of the 15th century. Ancient stone buildings rose up on either side of us as the cobblestones returned beneath our feet. The trek down Castle Hill would lead to the High Street, where we would hopefully find some shops open for business.

  The streets were empty and dark. January wasn’t a popular time for locals or even tourists, who’d rather stay in beside the fire in a pub, downing pints of Guinness to warm the gut. I risked a glance at Lugh when the moonlight slipped through the cracks between two buildings. His outline was fierce, sharply cut, and towering in an otherworldly sort of way. Power pulsed from deep within him with every step he took.

  Who was this fae? And why had I never heard of him?

  He was blatantly powerful. He commanded respect and inspired confidence from hundreds of fae, some of whom had placed trust in Athaira before him...who was...where exactly? I had so many questions and so few answers. This male beside me had them all. With his head held high and that strength rolling off his toned body...I could see why the Scottish fae wanted to believe he could be King.

  “I can tell you want to ask me something,” he murmured as we passed by an old church, steeple disappearing high into the darkness above.

  I took a deep breath and decided to broach the one subject I’d been dying to tackle, above all others. “You were in the vaults the night of the trial. And you helped me.”

  His footsteps faltered, and he almost imperceptibly shot a quick glance over his shoulder. “That’s an interesting theory.”

  “You don’t seem at all surprised that someone was down there with me,” I countered.

  He waved his hand in dismissal, though I saw his jaw clench. “You must have mentioned it to Saoirse. She tells me everything.”

  “Uh uh.” I wagged my finger at him. “She refuses to talk about it. Something about the fact that you can’t say anything in the castle without someone else hearing it.”

  He raked his hand through his raven hair. “You mustn’t repeat this to anyone.”

  My heart skipped a beat. Was he actually going to open up and give me some answers? I wanted to fist pump the sky.

  “Okay,” I said eagerly.

  “I did help you,” he admitted. “Saoirse is part Druid. I asked her to read your future, as I always do before trials. The number of Sluagh in the vaults has...multiplied, without my knowing. If you had gone in there alone, you would not have won your trial.”

  I came to a sudden stop on the cobblestones. My eyes were wide as I stared at him, and my heart felt as if it had been twisted like a snake. I’d only met one Druid in my life before this. Caer, who had the power to look into the future and dispense prophecies to whomever she pleased.

  I’d heard a prophecy from her once before, one I wished I could forget.

  And now this...

  “So, you’re saying I actually would have died?” I whispered. That single word echoed in my ear. Died, died, died. I wanted to block it out, but I couldn’t. My death had been on the cards. I’d been so close to the end of my life, and I hadn’t even known it.

  “Not due to your lack of skill or strength,” he quickly countered. “There were far too many in there for one fae to fight alone. I merely took a few out of the equation for you. That was why I instructed you to go right. I tackled the left-handed tunnels.”

  This was too much. I needed to sit down.

  “Why the hell didn’t you just call off the trial?” I hissed. “Why make me go through with it, if you knew I was going to actually die?”

  He pressed his lips together, and his eyes darkened. “There are things you don’t know, things I cannot tell you. Even here, away from ears that always listen. Just know that I could not stop the trial without risking everything.”

  “Everything?” My fisted hands shook by my sides. “So, I guess my life is okay to risk but not all these other mysterious things you refuse to tell me.”

  “Moira.” He growled and grabbed my shoulder. “You’re not listening to me. I was there, in the vaults, to make sure you didn’t die. I was never going to let death anywhere near you. That’s why I had Saoirse do the reading. Hate me for keeping secrets, but don’t hate me for risking your life, because I never did. And I never would.”

  My heart trembled as I stared into his inky eyes. “Oh.”

  He let go of my shoulder and resumed the walk down Castle Hill. The change was so abrupt that I didn’t know what to make of it. We’d been arguing, he’d been so fierce in his words, and then he’d just started walking again like nothing at all had happened.

  With a deep breath, I followed behind.

  He cast a glance over his shoulder. “I don’t know if Saoirse warned you, but you shouldn’t talk about anything private inside the castle.”

  “She told me.” I picked up the pace to catch up with him. “She also said that your room was the only
place where conversations couldn’t be overheard.”

  “That’s right.” He rubbed at his light-stubbled jaw. “Something Athaira’s predecessor put into place around the Royal Palace, but I haven’t been able to replicate it anywhere else inside the castle.”

  I was tempted to prod for more information about Athaira, but I could tell by the shuttered look on his face that he was done with secret spilling for the night. Instead, I would have to take a different approach.

  “You asked me when I moved to Edinburgh. When did you?”

  “I have lived here all my life.” There was something in his voice that caught me off guard. A sorrow, one that echoed of deep, long-held pain. It was an easy question and a simple answer, but the way he clipped his words betrayed him. There was more to it than that.

  “And you were part of House Athaira...?” I knew I’d asked the wrong question as soon as his shoulders tensed.

  “No,” he growled. “Enough about me. Tell me about your sword. Where did you get it?”

  I gave myself a moment to think as we passed another church and swung a right into Parliament Square, away from the High Street shops. We crossed the square, darkness hugging us close.

  I frowned. “Where are we going?”

  “Shortcut,” he replied, leading us beneath a series of stone archways. “Tell me about your sword.”

  “A friend gave it to me.” I cast a glance around. We’d somehow ended up on a thin close—the Scottish word for alleyway. The cobblestone ground was steep and snaked between the rear of buildings. Bins were stacked up beside back doors, rotting rubbish spilling over the sides. It stank of dead fish. The wrought-iron street-lamps flickered in the dark. An unease whistled through me.

  Lugh latched onto my arm and pulled me to the left, toward a flight of stairs that led down into the dark.

  “Um,” was all I could muster.

  “There’s a clothing shop down this close that caters specifically to supernaturals,” he said briskly. “It shuts in twenty minutes.”

  His voice held zero room for disagreement, but I didn’t like how this night had suddenly taken a turn for the worse. With the King of the Wraiths, dragging me down a dark alley, demanding to know more about my sword. A sword that I conspicuously did not have at the moment.

  “Honestly. I don’t want to go any further into this creepy alley with you.” I dug my heels into the cobblestones. “Let go of me now.”

  He growled and shoved me against the stone wall, pressing his body tight against mine. My breath hitched. Leaning down, he pressed his lips to my ear and breathed.

  “Don’t say anything. We’re being followed.”

  9

  My brain fogged on his words, my mind too distracted by his electrifying touch. Then, slowly, the meaning sank in, and I dropped my voice to a low whisper. “You serious?”

  He gave a solemn nod.

  I glanced around us. “That’s why you brought us here? Wouldn’t it have been better to stay on the busy—”

  He slid his hand over my mouth to shut me up. Narrowing my eyes, I growled and tried to nip at his skin.

  “Someone has been trying to sabotage the Court for months.” He mouthed the words, and strangely, I could understand what he was trying to say. That meant he thought they were fae. The magical Sapphire drug. The silence in Saoirse’s words. It was all connected. And now, the culprits had followed us down the Royal Mile.

  Lugh mouthed his next words. “This is my chance to stop them.”

  I decided not to point out that both of us were regrettably unarmed. He didn’t have a spear, and I certainly didn’t have a sword, since he’d hidden it from me. If we were being stalked by traitorous arseholes who wanted to tear him from his throne, then we would need a lot more than two pairs of fists.

  Lugh took a step back, his eyes flashing with a kind of ferocity he hadn’t yet shown me. I’d seen a range of expressions from him so far: boredom, cockiness, concern, amusement, and wickedness. But now he looked hellbent and fierce. I kind of liked it.

  Too bad he didn’t have a spear.

  “You stay here,” he mouthed, taking another step back and pointing down the close in the direction of the way we’d come.

  My eyes widened in realisation. He hadn’t brought us here to hide in wait for an attack. He’d brought us here so he could dump me next to the bins. Lugh wanted to go fight the stalkers himself.

  I shook my head and pointed at his cloak, where there was a glaringly obvious lack of a spear. Then, I pointed at myself and mimed holding a sword before me. I was trying to remind him that I was a warrior. I was trained to fight, even if I didn’t have my weapon of choice. But Lugh didn’t know that. He thought I was a solitary fae who’d spent her entire life on her own, without access to coaches and training facilities.

  “I’m your King,” he hissed softly, and then rounded the corner.

  For a moment, all I could do was stare after him. He was risking his life, a second time, to keep me from getting hurt. I hadn’t expected that from him. He was the King of Wraiths. He’d formed a secret Court, hidden from the rest of the fae world. He’d seemed so callous and uncaring. At first.

  But that was because he was, I reminded myself. I had seen him at the Pack headquarters, with my own two eyes, asking for a cauldron that would help him steal the crown from Clark.

  I was here to stop him. I was here as a spy, not as one of his subjects. He wouldn’t be so eager to help me if he knew the truth.

  My heart beat hard at the distant echo of his footsteps on the cobblestone. He suddenly stopped, and several more footsteps sounded through the close. Whoever had been following us now surrounded Lugh.

  My heart lurched as a deafening silence filled the air.

  He may have ordered me to stay here, but I wasn’t actually his subject, so I could do whatever I damn well pleased. Besides, maybe I could finally get some answers. Everything so far seemed linked. So, it stood to reason that whatever Lugh had planned with the cauldron could have something to do with why these fae were trying to take him down.

  Yeah. So helping him would be helping me. Not him.

  At that, I gave myself a nod and pushed away from the stone wall. Creeping down the close, I kept my footsteps silent. I couldn’t afford for them to hear me coming, not unless I wanted to be dragged out of the shadows and exposed for what I really was: a spy.

  I followed the twists and bends until I came to a small square at the end of the close. Lugh stood in the center, surrounded by about a dozen armed fae. With a sharp gasp, I ducked into a doorway and peered around the side.

  The fae were all clad in black, and their faces were obscured by hoods. I could only tell what they were by the way they held their bodies, the grace in their tiny movements, the magic that rippled like sound waves around their limbs. Every supernatural has a certain feel about them, and I could always recognise a fae.

  Lugh crossed his arms over his chest, his black cloak billowing around his feet. “Ten of you. That’s more than I thought.”

  One of the fae answered by cracking his knuckles.

  “Is no one going to speak?” Lugh asked smoothly, his face transformed by that cruel apathy he’d shown me from the very first day. I was starting to realise that Lugh only looked bored when he was anything but. “At least tell me why you wish to kill me.”

  One fae strode out from the rest. A tall, large female with a voice that sounded like rain on the wind. “We know who you are, and we appreciate your heritage, but we also know you’ve been searching for the cauldron yourself. Why, Lugh?”

  Lugh squinted at the fae, but his expression showed no recognition. “You must be mistaken.”

  The female tsked. “A liar, too. That can only mean one thing. You’re searching for the cauldron to stop us from bringing back your creator.”

  Frowning, I cocked my head. Bring back his creator?

  Lugh’s entire body went stiff, and his voice dropped to a growl. “Don’t speak of her.”

&nbs
p; The fae let out a little laugh and drew a gold-edged sword from her back. “You and your constant ‘don’t speak of this’ and ‘don’t speak of that.’ So paranoid. It must be a terrible way to live, hiding everything from everyone. I guess that means we’ll be doing you a favour. Just think of it like this. We’re putting you out of your misery.”

  My eyes flicked from Lugh’s stone-cold face to the warriors drawing their weapons. He was completely surrounded with no spear to keep him company. I didn’t need to be a druid to know how this fight would end.

  The female swung her sword at Lugh’s head. He dropped low to the ground, grunting as he rolled to the left. The female scrabbled toward him. She slashed her blade toward his head, but he shifted left just in time, and the steel rang as it hit the stone ground.

  Gritting my teeth, I cast my gaze around me for anything that would help. A metal sign, displaying a flat for rent in the building above. Not ideal, but it would do. I yanked it off the wall and charged.

  The warrior nearest me didn’t see me coming. I slammed the sign into the back of his head, and he crumpled to the ground without a word. But that was pretty much it for the element of surprise. I’d caught the rest of their attention now, and they were all staring at me with bulging eyes. I couldn’t see the rest of their faces, hidden by their black masks.

  Except Lugh. He just looked furious.

  “Moira,” he growled. “Get out of here. Now.”

  I spun the sign in my hand and shrugged. “Nope. I owe you one.”

  The female fae whirled on her feet to face me. Her entire face was obscured by a black cloth. Not even her eyes were visible. Damn. She must be someone that Lugh knew. Maybe even I’d met her. All I had to go on was her voice, and that was easy enough to change. A little warble here, a low growl there. Easy peasy.

  Her laughter echoed through the close. “The new little recruit. What do you think you’re going to do with that sign, love?”