Hidden Passions (Hidden, #7)(26)

The faerie's face flickered, no expression in it that Tony recognized. Time had seemed to stop while they gawked at each other. Tony's curse kick-started it again.

Wolf, he heard very clearly inside his head. Move out of my way or die.

Tony wore an enchanted Saint Michael medal around his neck. Though the thing was designed to protect him against compulsions, it didn't help him then. Like a puppet, he stepped out of the faerie's path. The male zoomed by and then cut left across Elm Street. The air he displaced blew Tony's hair like storm wind.

As soon as he was out of reach, Tony's anger recovered. The faerie--who'd probably just murdered someone--had passed close enough to grab. Tony wasn't a puppy, he was a wolf. And an officer of the law. He didn't care how much juice this fae bastard could draw on. Tony's city wasn't his personal playground.

"I got this," he barked to Rick, sprinting after the fleeing male.

"Call for backup," Rick shouted.

"Will," Tony promised over his shoulder.

Tony wasn't stupid. He notified Dispatch through his shoulder comm before he'd finished bounding across the empty lanes.

After that, he needed all his breath for running. Sheesh, the faerie was fast. Tony had heard some fae could fly or levitate. Sword Guy didn't do either but was moving at better than average shifter speed--with no sign of slowing down. Buildings rushed by as Tony strove to keep up. The fae was still glowing, which made him hard to lose. Tony wondered if the male not hiding his light with glamour was a good sign. Had the fight in the subway sapped the fae's energy?

If this was Sword Guy tired, Tony didn't want to see him daisy fresh. He pushed himself to his limits, a stitch beginning to grab his ribs. It was too bad he couldn't change at will. Four wolf legs would have been an improvement on two flagging human ones.


"Fuck," he breathed. Sword Guy had just veered sideways between two office towers.

Did the alley dead-end? Was the faerie setting a trap? He knew Tony was behind him. Had he decided to make a stand?

Tony had a small spell-charged crossbow in his right bulletproof vest pocket. The tips of its bolts were solid electrum--unlike the ammo in his sidearm, which was only electrum plate. The bolts might disable the pureblood, if Tony hit him right.

Deciding this weapon was his best bet, Tony snapped the bow out and activated it. Too quickly to make himself a target, he ducked his head into the gap between buildings.

The alley went through to the next street. The faerie's star-bright glitter was disappearing from the far end.

Tony took off after him again.

Beyond the alley, the city's landscape opened up. The buildings were lower, with more space between them. Tony signaled Dispatch again, hoping they understood the update in spite of his hard breathing. A sparkle trail led across the empty lot of a gas station up ahead. If Sword Guy was shedding faerie dust, maybe he really was losing steam.

The stuff went up Tony's nose as he ran through it. Gritting his teeth against the mild high it caused, he armed the light crossbow.

Seconds later, he skidded to a halt.

He'd caught up to the fae. The male was cornered, or seemed to be, against the graffitied front of Demon Dan's Motorcycle Repair Shop. The street art was some of Tony's favorite, showing Demon Dan riding a black-winged Harley across a Van Gogh-esque starry night.

Since he didn't have the luxury of admiring it right then, he brought both arms up and aimed. An order to Freeze was literally in his throat when an invisible wall of force drove the air from his lungs.

"That's far enough," the faerie said.

Well, fine, Tony thought. He'd shoot him from where he was.

"RPD," he managed to wheeze.

Tony wasn't the pack's best marksman. That honor belonged to Nate. Nonetheless, what he pointed at, he generally hit.

"I don't think so," the faerie said.

The crossbow fell from Tony's suddenly nerveless hands.

Crap, he thought. His shoes were stuck to the cracked asphalt. He couldn't reach far enough to retrieve the weapon. For the second time tonight, the faerie had frozen him.

Tony noticed Sword Guy wasn't winded from the chase. He held his bloody long sword at horizontal, its great weight no trouble for him to lift. Seeming more curious than angry, he came a few strides closer.

"Why do you pursue me, wolf?" he asked.

"I'm pretty sure you just killed someone. Pursuing you is my job."

"You aren't powerful enough to subdue me. And what I do isn't your business."

"Everything that happens in this city is my business."

Okay, maybe that was a tad dramatic. The faerie seemed to realize he'd exaggerated. His perfect lips curved the slightest bit in his snow-white face. Tony immediately wished they hadn't. The smile sent extremely distracting waves of lust coursing through his bloodstream.

"Wolf . . ." the fae began but stopped.

The blood that coated his sword had just ignited like a Fourth of July sparkler. The faerie's smile broadened. "Ah," he said as the dazzling light swiftly consumed the gore. "It appears my mission was successful."

"You killed another faerie," Tony realized. That's what happened when fae died. Every cell of their bodies, including blood they'd shed, reverted to faerie dust.

The faerie regarded him with his flame blue eyes. "You are brave. I shall spare your life in honor of my victory."