Page 4 of A Sin So Pure

Still, the murky river lapping at the city docks and the ever-present haze in the air would be enough to set any fae on edge.

Oddly enough, it’s always felt a bit like coming home to me.

“You’ll get used to it eventually,” I say.

Wes’s crooked smile is more of a grimace. “I don’t know about that.”

He doesn’t come human-side as often as others in our House—we try to keep the younger members fae-side until they’re more established within the organization. But with our planned expansions, he’ll be spending more time here than ever before.

House Pride has always operated in both realms; we’re the shipping moguls of Faerie, funneling human-made automobiles, guns, and anything else the upper echelon of the Unseelie Court wants across the magical border. Though our Court has been lacking one lucrative subset of goods for the last fifty years—anything that the Seelie can make.

“Pull over here,” I say, pointing to an alley I recognize. “We’ll walk the rest of the way.”

Wes parks and turns the engine off; without the automobile’s rumbling, the silence of midnight surrounds us.

We weave through a familiar path of empty cobblestone streets tucked between brownstones toward the shipping port on the east river. It’s meant to be neutral ground for any fae who inhabit the human city, but I tug my gloves off and shove them into my trench coat’s pocket.

Can never be too careful.

The city is always quiet at this time of night. The human speakeasies have closed their doors by now and any straggling revelers will be tucking themselves into their silk-sheeted beds. But there’s something about the way my boots clack sharply on the flagstone sidewalk that sets my nerves alive. My pointed ears twitch as we stop under a flickering lamp post.

Two minutes pass where I scrutinize the shadows around us.

Of course, they’re going to show up late.

I clear my throat.

“I meant to thank you earlier. For volunteering tonight,” I say.

Wes shifts uncomfortably. “Just part of the job, right?”

I tilt my head, studying Wes’s reddish-brown hair and the perpetual flush on his cheeks. It gives him a boyish appearance, despite being a fae of twenty-one years. His family has been a mainstay of House Pride for centuries, his dad being Pride’s Second before me. And while Wes is still young, he shows great promise.

“Dangerous all the same,” I say, a grin spreading across my cheeks. “Your eagerness is noted.”

I reach a hand out, gripping his shoulder with a quick squeeze. His muscles tense beneath the fabric of his coat; he relaxes a second later, but the fear is still there, underneath. My people know the power that lies in my veins. But, despite their faith that I can control my magic and that I’d never hurt one of my own, their bodies can’t help but react.

I don’t blame them, though it tugs at something deep in my gut all the same.

The weight of my gloves bears down on my pocket, a reminder that—more often than not—they’re the only reason I’m spared from too many moments like this. The gloves make people feel safe.

I release Wes’s shoulder from my grip and refocus on the shifting shadows down the street.

“If this all goes well, I’ll need you to step up for our House, yeah?” I say without meeting Wes’s eyes.

“‘Course, Boss,” he replies.

The humming of the streetlamp intensifies, putting up a valiant effort to keep the darkness around us at bay.

“Good. Now only use your shadows if I tell you. Otherwise, stick to your gun.”

Two Seelie exiles emerge from the darkness; the lamplight glints off the large guns slung around their torsos. They play a perfect pair of mobsters with their flat-caps, suspenders, anddress shirts pushed to their elbows. The only things that subtract from their attempt at intimidation are the glittering wings, akin to a dragonfly’s, peaking over their shoulders. Seelie wings are sofragilecompared to their Unseelie counterparts. And worse, the Seelie are always flashing them about.

It’simpractical.

“Bit overkill with the machine guns, huh?” Wes murmurs at my side.

It is, but who am I to judge? Most fae don’t have magic. They have to rely on human weapons in a fight.

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