Spin the Shadows (Dark and Wicked Fae #1) - Cate Corvin Page 0,30

it back in my pocket, his hands clasping my shoulders.

“You’re all right?” he asked swiftly, looking me over and taking in the tear stains on my cheeks.

I nodded mutely as the street lit up with bright lights. Robin released my shoulders instantly, standing in front of me as several Garda cars pulled up.

Their blazing gold and white lights lit up the entire street. The curtains on apartments were being drawn back, lights flickering on in the houses around us.

How had all of these people heard nothing? Hadn’t the poor dead Fae screamed as she died?

A Garda officer got out of the first car, her sharp-boned face grim. An ambulance disgorged two Emergency Services Fae, and I stifled a morbid giggle: it’s too late to help her now.

But Robin seemed happy to see them. He waved one over. “Bring a blanket,” he commanded.

That’s when I became aware I was shivering violently for the second time tonight. My arms were wrapped around myself, but I’d been so glad to see Robin here with backup, I hadn’t thought about it.

One of the ESFs practically came running over with the blanket, and Robin shook it out and wrapped it around my shoulders as the grim-faced officer and her retinue looked into the alley.

I heard the low murmurs as if from far away. “You don’t have to look again, Miss Appletree,” he said quietly. “Did you see anyone?”

I clutched the blanket tightly. “No. The street was dark but dead silent when I got here.”

Sisse had immediately hopped over to Robin’s shoulder. “There was no one, Robin. The kill looks recent, but we’re talking at least an hour ago.”

I couldn’t help but look back at the alley as the officer stepped out, even grimmer than before. She held a notepad in one hand. “Sir, I’d like to interview the witness.”

“She saw nothing and disturbed nothing.” Robin’s tone could’ve rivaled a glacier for coldness. “I trust her word.”

The officer looked like she wanted to quail. “But sir… it’s protocol…”

I slipped a hand from under my blanket and touched Robin’s arm. His muscles were corded as hard as iron beneath his shirt, betraying his tension. “It’s okay, boss. I’ll talk to her. Just not near… that.”

I nodded towards the open mouth of the alley, now brightly illuminated, and saw something strange.

The brick walls were smeared with the dust of a charred body and bits of cooked flesh, but there was a lacy sheen of ice creeping over the stone.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Robin snapped. “It’s a crime scene, not a circus.”

He headed towards the mouth of the alley and I followed automatically, swallowing hard and steeling my stomach for the sight of it again.

A tall man in a white suit was walking towards us from the other end.

I blinked at the incongruous sight.

He was pristine from head to toe, the suit cut to fit a muscular figure, but wherever he stepped, tendrils of frost swirled against the stone like glittering, spiky flowers. Ice-white hair hung to his shoulders, and his eyes were so pale a blue they were nearly white.

“Oh, do let them interview the dryad, Robin,” he drawled.

Robin’s eyes narrowed at the sight of the newcomer. “You have no jurisdiction here, Jack.”

The newcomer—Jack— stepped over the body, leaving no frost on its remains. He had a sharp, angular face, tempered by full lips and hooded eyes that gave him a sensual look.

“But I do.” He pointed to the body. “That’s an Unseelie migrant, so this is now my jurisdiction as well.” Jack’s gaze moved to me next, taking in my mess of curly hair, the tear stains, the blanket. “I have every right to be here,” he finally said to Robin. “We’ve been as afflicted by the Ghosthand as you have.”

Robin’s lip curled. “Very well, then, if you must.” He looked down at me, the coldness leaving his gaze. “Come, Miss Appletree. Let’s get this over with.”

He led me to the porch and I sat down, while Robin, Jack, and the young officer remained standing, looking down at me.

I started slowly, making it sound like I’d worked late for Fairy Ferry deliveries— not quite an open lie, just a little slip of omission. The officer scribbled furiously as I spoke, until I got to the part where I was walking home.

One of the other Garda had joined the officer. “Odd you’d be walking home alone so late at night,” he commented. “What with the Ghosthand on the loose.”

The look Robin gave him could’ve struck a man dead