Chapter 1

1

M y sword tumbled into the sea.

"Bollocks," I muttered as I watched my beloved weapon vanish into the deep, swirling blue. My mission had just taken a massively wrong turn.

I stood on the swinging bridge that stretched between the Shivering Sands Fort and the Red Sands Fort, twin hulks of rusted metal that squatted on stilts above the Thames Estuary. It was the home of the Pack, and they didn't fancy hosting visitors for tea and biscuits.

To prove that point, they'd shifted into their wolf forms as soon as I'd stepped foot on the bridge. Of course, calling it a bridge was paying the thing a compliment I didn't think it deserved. With the rotting wooden planks and the thin ropes that served as handrails, it was more like a tightrope—one that might snap at any second .

"Who are you?" A shifter in the form of a man stepped out through the open doorway at the end of the bridge. Tall with wild, curly dark hair, grizzled, and built like a tank, Anderson had been the alpha of the Pack for the past two years.

He didn't recognize me, even though we'd met before. Thanks to my purple wig and pink contacts, I didn't look much like myself at all. I was Moira Talmhach, and my golden hair and matching eyes often gleamed in the night. It made me look very, very fae, as did my pointed ears I'd cleverly hidden beneath a bit of face putty.

Normally, I'd mask my identity by getting the assistance of a fae skilled in glamour. But we didn't have anyone with that ability at Court. Not anymore.

The loss of Elise, my best and oldest friend, my sister in spirit and soul, still left me with a hole in my heart. Even if we found a new fae skilled in glamour, I wouldn't ask him for help. It would feel like too much of a betrayal, even though I knew Elise would have given me a bemused smile and then told me I was being a muppet.

I sucked in a deep breath and shifted my attention back on the task at hand.

"Name's...Anna." Couldn't very well tell him my real name, now could I? The Pack here knew the names of most of us at Court. "I'm a shifter, too, and I heard about your place out here. I thought I'd come and check it out…? "

Anderson's nostrils flared as he took a long sniff. "You stink of feline. What are you, a cat?"

I reeked of feline because I'd spent the entire morning at a cat pub in London. I still had their fur stuck all over my jeans. Best way to convince a shifter you're one of them? Smell like an animal. Good thing I prefer cats to people. Of course, who wouldn't?

A low growl erupted from nearby, and I turned to spy a mangy-haired wolf that squatted precariously on the bridge. The pale moonlight glinted off his fangs. Shivers went through me, but I stood my ground. The Morrigan, my queen, had trusted me with this mission, and I would never let her down.

"Yeah, I'm a cat."

Anderson rubbed a beefy hand against his jaw. "You know you just stepped foot into a wolf pack, right? Wolves and cats don't mix."

While I'd been so focused on the wolves in front of me, I hadn't noticed the one behind me shifting back into his human form. He spoke up in a growl. "Why'd you bring a sword, eh?"

I shifted on my feet. My mind spun to come up with an explanation. "Okay, okay. I'll tell you the truth. Some friends and I were talking about this place, and they dared me to come out here and get inside. A thousand quid is on the line." I shrugged. "I'd do anything for a thousand quid."

Anderson's eyebrow winged upward. " And the sword?"

"I'm a cat sneaking into a den of wolves. I'd be a muppet to come unarmed."

"You're a muppet," the shifter from behind me snarled as he stepped closer, "to come at all."

I swallowed, hoping they couldn't hear the pounding of my heart.

"Actually." Anderson held up a hand. "I appreciate a dare. Takes moxie. Something most cats don't have."

I fought the urge to roll my eyes. Cats have plenty of moxie, evidenced by the deep gashes on my left arm. I'd petted a black kitten for too long, apparently, and she had been quick to communicate her displeasure.

"I'd only need to come inside for a minute." I tried on a smile, even though a scowl was my expression of choice most of the time. "And take a picture."

Anderson spun on his heels and waved for me to follow. Surprised, I minced across the rest of the swinging bridge, careful not to falter and tumble into the sea after my sword. The wolves skulked through the rusted door, clearly irritated that their night wouldn't end with a feline snack.

The alpha led me inside. The dimly lit hallway ended at a large room that had been fitted as a living area. I glanced around, impressed. They'd done a lot of renovations on the place. Gone were the rusted walls and stained yellow carpets. Instead, a gleaming hardwood floor reflected the wrought- iron sconces that hung along the plastered and painted walls.

I'd been here once before, hence the disguise and the whole feline shifter story. I didn't want the werewolves to know that I'm fae.

Relations between our two factions were…troubled, to put it mildly. That had a lot to do with the werewolves dipping their toes into criminal waters. Rumours had been flying for months. No one knew exactly what they were up to, but tales suggested it was nothing good.

And I was here to find out exactly what they were doing before it caused the entire supernatural community a heap of trouble. Humans had known about all of us for years now, but the world was still tense and on edge. We needed to play by the rules to keep the peace.

"Right. You're inside now. Take your picture." And get out were the unspoken words that followed.

Anderson waved a hand at the living area. The biggest television I'd ever seen hung on the far wall between two thin windows. Several leather sofas were clustered around it, along with a few armchairs and bean bags. An antique rug covered the floor. It was pretty cozy. But it wasn't what I had come here to see, and I needed to find a way to get a better look around.

"Wicked." I held up my phone and snapped a pic. "Mind if I use your toilet? I downed a pint before rowing out here. For moxie. I need a wee. Bad."

Anderson frowned but then gave a nod. He pointed at a hallway on the opposite end of the room. "Three doors down and on your right. But make it quick. We have some Pack business to attend to, and we can't have any cats lurking around."

My ears pricked up. Pack business. That sounded promising.

I shot Anderson a grateful smile—fake, of course—and hurried out of the room. Another dimly lit hallway stretched out before me. This one hadn't been renovated like the rest. Rust clung to the sagging walls. Lightbulbs flickered like something out of a horror film. The stench of dirt and salt swirled through the cramped space. I wrinkled my nose and ducked into the loo.

I kept the door cracked but flicked on the lights—and almost gagged. Mildew spread across the cracked linoleum and a yellowish gunk filled the sink. The toilet lid was shut. I had no intention of opening it. No telling what I'd find inside.

Instead, I pressed a hand against the doorframe and turned my ear toward the hallway. I slowed my breathing, focusing on the distant murmur of voices. My enhanced fae hearing sparked to life like a rush of adrenaline through my veins. Everything around me dimmed. The feel of the rough wood beneath my hands faded until it was a dull shape against my fingers.

"We don't welcome fae here." The voice was rough and familiar. Anderson. A chill went through me. I thought I'd convinced the alpha of my story. The last thing I wanted to do was run. The only way out of here was to vault out of the window and plummet into the churning water below the fort. I'd done it once before, and it hurt like hell.

Another voice spoke up in response. Smooth and melodic with a heavy Scottish accent. "I was told you're willing to sell to any bidder, regardless of their supernatural origin. If not, I'm happy to take my money elsewhere."

I let out a tiny exhale. So that was the fae. Not me. I could tell by the strange otherworldly tremor of his voice. Shifters don't sound like that. Neither do vampires. Humans especially don't.

Which begged the question…why was another fae here?

I turned my attention back to the conversation.

"No, no." Anderson cleared his throat. "Just tell me what you're after, and I'll see what I can do."

"A cauldron," the fae answered.

I furrowed my brow. Like, a sorcerer's cauldron? What would a fae want with one of those?

Anderson let out a low whistle, and I winced. High-pitched noises were excruciating when I had my enhanced hearing turned up to maximum. Like nails against chalkboard, only ten times worse.

"The name of this cauldron happen to be what I think it is?"

"Most likely."

"So, it's true then," the alpha replied, his voice gruff. "The Scotland fae are plotting against the Morrigan. You lot want to steal her crown."

A finger of ice slipped down my spine, and the corners of my vision went dark. The Morrigan was the Queen of the fae. My queen. If someone was plotting against her…

"I'd rather not share what I plan to use it for," the fae crisply replied. "Can you find it for me or not?"

"This may take some effort. And time." I heard the scribble of a pen on paper. "This is the quote for my services."

My breathing went shallow as my brain whirred with this new information. I understood Anderson's operation here now. He found things and delivered them to the highest bidder, and it wasn't technically illegal unless the objects themselves were inherently dangerous.

And it sounded like this cauldron was.

I needed to find out more.

Just as I pressed myself closer to the crack in the door, light splashed on the rusted hallway floor. I sucked in a breath and stepped back but not before a pair of black boots followed the light. Twin ominous shadows stretched out behind them. I dragged my eyes up. A fae unlike any I'd ever seen stood before me.

He was impossibly tall with midnight blue hair, horns curving out of his head, and eyes that were as dark as ravens. The angles of his face were sharp and strong. Slim but well-muscled, his black shirt clung to him like a second skin. Power radiated off his body and curled toward me, wisps of his magic lingering against my neck.

I found it hard to breathe.

He smirked. "Lost?"

I shook my head and slammed the loo door on his face. My heart raced so fast that I had to sag against the wall to catch my breath. What the hell was wrong with me? So what if I'd been caught spying on Anderson's visitor? No big deal. A nosy shifter kitten would have done the same bloody thing.

Their conversation echoed in my mind. Forget about photographic evidence. I needed to get back to the Court. That fae was plotting against the queen. And judging by the look of him, he wasn't going to be easy to beat.