Page 16 of The Enemy to the Living (The Wild Hunt #2)

When Grant is still silent, I look away from the bacon, which is cooking nicely, and over at him. He taps his fingers on the counter, then glances over at the empty doorway before he speaks. “I don’t… sleep well.”

“Is that a recent development?”

Grant shakes his head and lowers his voice. “Vlad told me when he turned me that I’d sleep when the sun came up. He told me I wouldn’t be able to fight it, so not to bother—after a while, I’d be able to stay up later. But I haven’t ever felt that, you know?”

I take the pan off the heat and face him fully. “You mean you don’t need to sleep at all?”

“No, I do. Here and there. A bit less than when I was human, six hours maybe, instead of eight? But I hardly even feel it when the sun comes up. Not like he says I should.”

“Have you talked to Vlad about it?”

Grant purses his lips, and there’s a mulish set to his mouth when he says, “He doesn’t want to listen. The bloodlust thing was bad enough. I think he doesn’t want to know if I’m different in any other ways.”

Is it that? Or is Vlad protecting his fledgling from the Huntsman? I don’t know the answer, and there’s no point in speculating.

“He cares about you.”

“I know that.”

“I’m sure he won’t mind you’re not sleeping so much, so long as you’re healthy.”

“I just feel like…” Grant sighs. “I feel like a child sometimes. I mean, I know I am, compared to the rest of you, but it’s like I have to be in my bed when the sun comes up, whether I’m tired or not, and I shouldn’t be seen until it’s dark again.”

I laugh, just a little, and Grant snorts, but I know he means it. “First of all, you and Paxton aren’t that far apart in age at all, so you can be a child with him if you like.”

“Sounds fun.”

The words are dripping with sarcasm. Grant’s lips twitch.

I rest my elbows on the counter opposite him, and the hunched over position brings our faces level.

“Second of all, you don’t have to stay in your room if you don’t want to.

This house might be the base, but we all know it’s where you and Vlad live.

Permanently. If you want to be up all day, be up all day. Just keep the curtains shut.”

“He’ll nag.”

“Does he ever not?”

“I think I really annoy him sometimes. We’ve been arguing a lot recently.”

“You’re of an age to.” I catch one of Grant’s hands and squeeze. “He’s your sire. And he’s not the type of vampire to abandon you anyway. He’s always been the most reliable of us.”

Grant doesn’t let go of my hand. “Yeah?”

“Of course.”

“I hope I am not interrupting.” Vlad’s voice is cold as ice, startling me. I didn’t see him appear in the doorway. His eyes land on Grant’s and my hands, expression unreadable.

Grant reads it, though, or something in it, because I feel him jolt, but he doesn’t pull away. I squeeze his hand and let go myself slowly.

“Of course not,” I say and put my bacon back on the ring. “Breakfast?”

Vlad doesn’t hiss—he’s far too dignified for that—but his little huff is plainly audible as he comes further into the kitchen. Grant flips open his book, all his attention apparently focused there.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Vlad raise his hand, fingers curled gently like he wants to touch. He stops himself a breath away from Grant’s hair. Grant doesn’t seem to notice at all.

I remove the bacon and crack two eggs into the pan. Not my business. Whatever’s going on between them is not anyone’s business, mostly because I don’t think either of them has figured it out yet.

“You found the twins,” Vlad says, still with an icy edge.

“Yes.”

“And you left Maurice alone in Beyond the Veil.”

“I’m sure he’s fine.”

“You have not checked in with him.”

I sigh, glancing away from my eggs. “Is he not fine? Is he not climbing out of bed with his ma—lover right now?”

The slip of the tongue— almost slip of the tongue—has me frowning as I look back down at my pan.

“He is fine,” Vlad says. “You did not check.”

I fight the urge to roll my own eyes. I’m older than Grant, so I have no excuse, and Vlad’s right, anyway. I should have texted Maurice again last night, or maybe after I got up this morning.

“We will scout out the twins’ location later tonight,” Vlad says. “The Huntsman has warned us not to face them again until we have adequate backup. Jeremiah and Paxton should arrive in a few days, so—”

His phone rings. The sound is shrill, and it makes Grant jump. I plate up my food as he answers and dig in as quickly as I can. I have a bad feeling about it.

The bad feeling gets worse when Vlad’s expression darkens. “No, I—Maurice? What are you saying?”

I look at Grant, who shrugs. Vlad growls and puts his phone on speaker, then places it on the counter between the three of us.

“You need to get over to the pack house, is what I’m saying,” Maurice barks down the line. It sounds as though he’s hurrying about, and I hear the distant rumble of Njáll’s voice in the background. “It’s a fucking shitshow.”

“What happened?” I ask. Grant grimaces, and I shrug. Yeah, my mouth might be full of food, but I haven’t eaten in a full day.

“Someone dumped a man outside Deacon’s pack house,” Maurice says. “We need to meet there.”

I meet Vlad’s confused frown with one of my own. “What does this have to do with the Hunt?” Vlad asks.

“Because,” Maurice says, carefully enunciating each syllable, “someone took this man’s wolf.”