Institute of the Shadow Fae Box Set by C N Crawford

Author:C N Crawford [Crawford, C N]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: C.N. Crawford
Published: 2019-04-18T06:00:00+00:00

Standing outside The Spread Eagle, I took a long sip of Maker’s Mark. Tension gripped my body. Pigeons cooed in the bridge that arched overhead, their calls slowly drowned out by the rumbling of a train.

A reckoning was coming to the great city of London—and I had my own personal reckoning in store. Baleros was the only one in London who knew the truth about me, and he’d hold it over my head as long as he was alive. Blackmail I couldn’t ignore.

It had been twelve hours since I’d found the note. During that time, Ruadan had sent out most of the knights on a mission to hunt down Baleros. He’d kept only two behind: Aengus and me.

So far, no one had reported anything useful. All we had was bad news: the plague outbreak on the Isle of Dogs had been confirmed.

As far as we could tell, Baleros had been moving from one place to another, never staying in one spot long enough to get caught. The last place we’d tracked him to was an apartment in Barbican. He’d left only a half a pack of cigarettes and a box of cereal, and the cloaked knights had zoomed off after him to the next location.

In my case, tonight, I’d left the cloak at home. I was undercover in an ordinary pair of leggings and a sweater.

Once upon a time—like, two weeks ago—the Shadow Fae were the only ones wandering around London in cloaks. I mean, who else would do weird shit like that?

But now? There were these other cloaked people. Cloaked people who pushed people into oncoming trains, then jumped after them. In the Institute, someone had started calling them jackdaws because of their dark gray and black cloaks, and the name stuck.

Who were they? We didn’t know. But the rest of London? They had a pretty good idea. They saw cloaks, they thought Shadow Fae. Simple as that.

In other words, someone was framing us, and I had a strong hunch it was Baleros. Maybe—just maybe—one of these jackdaws could take us to their leader.

I touched the lumen stone around my neck. A gift of magic from Ruadan—one that would help me move around fast if I found one of these cloaked men.

From the pub windows behind me, a piercing song floated through the glass. A woman was singing karaoke—or, more accurately, screaming it. Alanis Morissette, over and over.

I frowned at her through the fogging class. Bloody hells, woman. Just download a dating app and move on.

Footfalls turned my head, and my heart sped up at the sight of Ruadan prowling toward me. Dark magic curled around him. The edges of his broad body seemed indistinct, like a photograph shot out of focus. But he still stood out to me, those violet eyes like a beacon in the night. Even with his fuzzy appearance, I felt acutely aware of every one of the thickly corded muscles under his dark clothes. Every movement of his called to me—the breathing, the purposeful gait—precise and focused under the fog of his magic.

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