Page 23 of The Enemy to the Living (The Wild Hunt #2)

Asher

O h, I am in over my head. Drowning. Already gone, maybe, and it’s no one’s fault but my own.

After Quinn leaves, I eat and shower and dress and head straight out to where Mischief magical shadows swirl down the alley, though the fae who guards the entrance at night is gone.

I am far too old to be this tied up in knots over a young wolf.

And yet… I am, aren’t I? For a second, when he kissed me, it felt like being a teenager again, like we were getting away with something we shouldn’t. He’d been so sweet and so calm, and I didn’t want him to get out of bed and leave—

I scowl and kick a stray pebble, sending it skittering into the street. I’m not wrong. I’m older than any wolf ever manages to reach, though perhaps Deacon might make it, too, bonded to a vampire as he is.

Quinn is young. Even by human standards; he’s in his late twenties, I think, and yeah, he’s not a child, but I’m… older.

Not to mention everything that has brought us together. He can’t tell me about the deal he struck, I get that. And he did so before we even met properly. But he’s still dealing with everything that happened to him, and not healthily, and what if I’m just another outlet and I make things worse?

When I shove my hands into my pockets, my fingers brush my phone. I scoff, then take it out and look at it. Who could I even talk to about this? Paxton? He’ll be sensible, warn me to be cautious. Maurice? He’ll tease, but I have no idea what his advice might be.

Grant? He’s older than Quinn but not by much. And he and Vlad… They’re not together. I know that. But they’re connected, and their ages are different, and—

My phone rings before I can follow the thought through and I almost drop it in surprise. Vlad’s name stares up at me from the screen. I flush. No way he could know what I was just thinking about, but it still feels like a strange omen.

“Hello?”

“Asher. Where are you?”

I glance across the road. No one’s come in or out of the alley. I don’t even know if I can get back inside there after the stunt Sparrow pulled last night.

“Across the road from Mischief & Mayhem.”

“Did you see anything last night?”

I grimace. I really do not want to listen to the lecture I’m certain Vlad has ready if I admit I went inside last night.

“Nothing of interest.”

“You didn’t let us know when you left. Have you been there this entire time?”

“Yeah, ’course I have,” I say, then scoff. “No. Sorry. I left once it quieted down.”

Vlad pauses for a second longer than usual.

He does not enjoy my sarcasm, but I bite back an apology.

The dynamic between us all has been a little strained since the Huntsman rescinded Maurice’s blessing.

I don’t know if he and Vlad will ever truly talk through what happened and I wasn’t there that night to get the truth of it.

The whole thing gives me an uneasy feeling.

Of course he wanted to protect his turn. I remember him first bringing Grant here. I’ve never seen him so desperate.

It’s just a reality check to realise that he’s placed someone else above all of us. The Huntsman must know it. Yet, Maurice was punished, and Vlad was not.

Speak of the devil… “The Huntsman is coming to the base tonight,” Vlad says, “and he has requested everyone’s presence. He has spoken with the Guardians.”

“Everyone? Is Moreau coming?”

He might be helpful when it comes to talking through my problem. If I can get him away from the Huntsman, that is.

“I do not believe so,” Vlad replies. “Us, Maurice, Jeremiah, and Paxton…”

“Yeah, okay. I’ll be there at sundown.”

“See you then.”

He hangs up before I can and I lean against the wall behind me, turning my face up to the sun. Not a chance I’m calling Grant now, not if Vlad’s awake. Though Grant probably is, too. Vlad must know. Even if Grant thinks he’s keeping it to himself, he can’t have missed it… can he?

No one comes in or out of the alley, and I leave before the sun goes down.

When I arrive at the base, the Huntsman is already there.

Everyone is, in fact, and no one looks to be at ease. Great. The Huntsman’s ears twitch when I slip into the room, and he waves his hand at an empty chair.

“Nice of you to join us.”

“I said I’d be here at sundown.”

He scowls but doesn’t answer. He’s not wearing a glamour, of course, but even still, his magic feels surprisingly volatile. He’s holding himself still but unnaturally so, like he wants to be on his feet and moving but has deemed that unprofessional.

“I explained to the Guardians everything we have uncovered regarding the twins,” the Huntsman says. “And I have had some luck in discovering their identities, though I do not know how much of a help that will be. They are not doing much to hide it.”

“Who are they, then?” Maurice asks. One booted foot rests on the coffee table, and he doesn’t move it, even when Vlad scowls. Grant is wedged between the two of them on the sofa, looking for all the world like he doesn’t want to be here. I’m not certain why he is.

Paxton is sitting over the other side of the room, at a small table next to one of the bookcases, and Jeremiah leans against his side.

“Their names are Celyn and Sorrel,” the Huntsman says. “They truly are twins, and both are high fae. Both are Unseelie.”

“Are they here for political reasons?” Vlad asks. “As Meilyr was?”

“I believe not, but I cannot be certain,” the Huntsman replies.

He drums his fingers against his thigh, then stills them.

“They have never been part of the court. Everything I have heard of them points to their love for chaos. That they are hosting fights between the fae is hardly out of the ordinary.”

“And the wolf?” I ask. “Why would they take a wolf?”

The Huntsman studies me for a moment, then lets out a heavy sigh.

“I could not come up with a reason myself, so I asked the Guardians if there might be something in wolf magic that these fae might want. Cassian said what I already know—wolf magic is earth magic designed to withstand fae magic. Witch magic, only stronger.”

Maurice frowns, and even Grant is leaning in, fascinated. “I don’t understand,” Maurice says. “Designed…?”

“Wolves can withstand the fae,” the Huntsman says, each word passing through his lips as though it pains him to say them.

It’s not something I’ve brought up with everyone else in the Hunt before because none of us have wolf magic, not even me.

“They initially emerged to withstand the fae. To be protectors of humanity.”

Were we? I grew up on the old stories, but I never spent any time among humans until after my pack was killed and the Huntsman gave me his blessing. We scared humans. They drove us out and then forgot about us.

Much like they did with the fae, I think. I eye the Huntsman now. They like to pretend they’re more powerful and superior, but there are a lot of humans, and they have a lot of fight in them.

“Shit,” Maurice mutters, sitting back. “And the Hunt isn’t full of wolves because…”

“The magics are not compatible,” the Huntsman says. He does not look at me at all. “If I were to bless a wolf, they would lose that side of themselves.”

Grant pales. “And die?”

“No. Fae magic would sustain them. Their wolf would be gone, but the person would remain.”

Paxton’s gaze burns into me across the room. He’s the only one, despite the looks I’ve recently been getting from Maurice and Grant. I’m not surprised by that at all.

“Anyway,” Jeremiah says, and he’s always only half a step behind Paxton, so he’ll work it out soon, too, “is there some reason the twins might want this magic, then? Can they even wield it?”

“Uncertain,” the Huntsman replies. “In theory, no, but in practice, it depends on what they want to do. They may be able to ask someone else to.”

“And they want it to, what, fight the fae?” Maurice grimaces. “They’re high fae and there are two of them. If they were careful, we wouldn’t have even found them.”

“They clearly care little for being careful,” Vlad replies, and the Huntsman graces him with a nod.

“We cannot assume their reasoning will make sense,” the Huntsman says. “They have caused the Unseelie Court much trouble before. More dangerous than stealing wolves is the dissent they might spread among the Seelie fae here.”

“Fuck,” Maurice mutters, and the Huntsman gives him an arch look.

“If you are so interested in helping them, then you might warn them that to associate with the twins is dangerous.”

Maurice doesn’t pull a face, but it’s a close thing. Yeah, the Huntsman is not over that one. I wasn’t there when Maurice told him he had conditions prior to rejoining the Hunt, but I’ve heard about it since.

I wonder if he’s ever felt so powerful.

“And what are we to do with the twins?” Vlad asks. “Asher has located their place of operations.”

The Huntsman fixes me with a look. “You have?”

“Yes.” I’m not giving him more than that. I’m not going to tell him about Quinn.

“Capture would be best,” the Huntsman says. “Meilyr has been dealt with, and it would be good to show the high fae who remain in the Otherworld the consequences of causing trouble here.”

Maurice purses his lips but bites back whatever he clearly wants to say. When his gaze meets mine, his eyes glitter.

Did the Huntsman really let Maurice operate on his own for decades because that was what Maurice preferred, or was it because he wanted to keep him far away from the rest of us?

Maurice has ideas . Ideas that are worth exploring, ideas that mean even I—the one person in this room who really can’t risk his blessing at all—am thinking, do you want to show the consequences of causing trouble, or do you want to secure this domain as your own?

I can’t ask. I won’t. Besides, keeping Quinn’s wolf his own is what preoccupies my mind right now.

“All right,” Vlad says. “Asher, you will take me there tonight. We will see who comes in and out. Perhaps there are patrons we recognise.”

Maurice leans back on the sofa and nudges Grant with his knee. “And what will we do? Sit around and wait for you both?”

“Yes. Asher and I have both been inside before, so when we return, we can explain the outline of the place to you. Once we have a feel for how busy it might be, we can come up with a plan of attack.” Vlad swings his gaze back to me. “You were there today.”

“Yes.”

“Was it busy?” Jeremiah asks.

“I didn’t see anyone come in or out before I left. I was there for a few hours. If we went in the day…”

“Only you and Paxton would be able to go,” Maurice says, shaking his head. “If it was just one high fae, sure, but two?”

“I agree,” the Huntsman says. “It proves too great a risk. Observe tonight and put together a plan that will have you all in the room with them.”

I frown. He’s not wrong. Aside from the lack of crowds in the pub, Paxton and I would have no other advantage going during the day. Some species of fae like the sun more than others, but none must hide from it the way vampires do, and as far as I know, high fae aren’t affected at all.

“Whatever the twins are up to, we will uncover,” Vlad says.

The Huntsman nods. I don’t think he cares much about that. He just wants this realm to be rid of them.