Page 14

Maurice

I hardly rest the next day. I barely manage to at the best of times, but I am restless, pacing my rooms as I consider just what it is I offered Njáll. What he agreed to.

I wanted him to agree, of course. After he’d been so patient with me, showing me how to use the phone, something had come over me. I wanted to give him something in return.

It is not a smart thing to do. I know that.

If the Huntsman is near, he will punish me for it.

I do not believe for a second that his leniency when it comes to Vlad and Grant has any bearing on the rest of the members of his Hunt, and although I am not about to turn Njáll—he is already a vampire—sharing my blood with him is a dangerous temptation.

Our blood can be addictive, though I doubt it will come to that. He will still need some human blood to remain healthy, but mine should scratch that itch, and, more importantly, it is not about blood at all.

He wants to hunt. He wants to allow his basest, most animal instincts to take over, to be the monster that, deep down, he truly is.

The monster we all are. We pass through our bloodlust so quickly, in the grand scheme of things, and it is hard for many vampires to remember clearly, but it is instinctual, too.

I perch on the end of my bed and rest my chin on my hand.

I worry, a little, that Grant has not experienced that at all.

Of course he is a vampire. There is no denying that.

But if one of the Hunt—or any fae-blessed vampire, I suppose—turns others, and they do not experience it… It may not be a bad thing.

It may not be good, either.

I change just before the sun goes down and then make my way to Njáll’s office. He is not there, but he does not like me to wait outside his rooms, and I am not inclined to irritate him tonight. Not after Augustine caused enough trouble yesterday.

I do not trust that vampire, either. Clan business is, however, not truly my concern.

It is half an hour before Njáll arrives, and I am surprised when he takes a seat behind his desk. He murmurs a greeting as he powers on his laptop and I settle into my place on the sofa, simply taking him in.

I know why I have offered all that I have. I feel some sense of pity for him, of course, that he appears so uncomfortable in his new role. I want to assist, but I cannot beyond the bounds that mean I keep him alive.

But it is more than that. It is the way his laugh made me shiver, made my heart thump too heavily in my chest. It is the helpless, irritated look he gave both Augustine and Deacon in turn, even if Deacon could not see it.

Njáll is an attractive man, and perhaps it was foolish of me to believe I would never be attracted to him. Perhaps, too, that is the most dangerous part of this whole chase. I might give too much away, give him an upper hand he ought not have.

I shake my head, chasing the thoughts away. Njáll looks up at that, faintly concerned.

“Are you all right?”

“Perfectly fine. Do we still plan to…?” I trail off when Njáll glances at the door. There is no one beyond; at least, not anyone close enough to hear.

“Yes,” he says after a moment, cheeks a little flushed.

It does not mean the same thing to him as it does to me, and it should not mean anything to me at all. He will get his chase, and he will be fed—which is a matter of my concern since a hungry vampire is always a dangerous and vulnerable one.

“All right,” I reply, opting for a complete lack of concern as I lean back on the sofa again. I take my phone out of my pocket, pretending to fiddle with it as Njáll works. All I am doing is opening the same application over and over again, hyper-aware of every move Njáll makes.

After what feels like an age, he is done with whatever tasks he feels necessary not to delay, and he gets awkwardly to his feet. “I know a park we can go to,” he says.

“Fine.” I shove my phone away and stand, too. “We’ll walk?”

“It’s a little far for that.”

“The driver?”

“They will keep our location to themselves.”

I nod. I have to trust that he’s done this before; that even if there’s more risk to it now, he knows how to cover his tracks.

“Let’s go, then.”

We’re driven out to a small park I know is still inside vampire territory. In Afsaneh’s district, if I’m not mistaken, since she’s taken over Njáll’s as well. The driver leaves when Njáll tells her to and I follow him into the park, both of us easily climbing over the low gate.

“Here?” I ask, glancing around. The park is larger than I first thought on the pavement, but I doubt we are in for a long chase.

Njáll frowns. “I didn’t consider how fast you’d be,” he says.

“Should make it more difficult for you to catch me,” I reply with a grin. “If that’s what you want?”

His eyes faintly glow, and he must be starving for that sudden shift in mood. “Yes.”

“Good.” I take a couple of steps back, never letting my smile falter. “Catch me then, crai.”

I turn on my heel and run. I need to get a sense of the park first, but I hear Njáll close on my heels, surprisingly quick despite his bulk. I dart around trees, passing a couple of benches before I reach the fence on the other side.

There really is not much room to run here at all, but we can make do.

Njáll almost catches me a couple of times before I work out how quickly I need to move to keep slightly ahead. His frustrated growl makes it all worth it, and I grin at the sound, my heart thumping against my ribs.

There is something to this that I like. I do not feel hunted in precisely the way I expected to, and that has me turning on my heel, rushing past Njáll almost playfully.

When I was turned, there was a chase much like this.

Much like this in that a vampire was chasing me with the intent to dig his fangs in.

Otherwise, the scenarios could not be more different.

I did not want to be there that night. I was betrayed by his sudden insistence on making me his.

My magic had utterly failed me, and I was certain I would never taste it again.

Here? Now? Magic fizzes through my body as though sensing the excitement in the air—mine and Njáll’s both—and when I carelessly wave a hand, a tree obligingly lifts its roots, sending Njáll sprawling to the ground.

I laugh wildly and he growls again. This time it’s edged with danger, the kind of sound that makes my mouth run dry.

If I told him I wished to stop now, would he? I believe so. He is hungry—his eyes still glow when I glance over my shoulder—but not starving.

Even if he were, would he control that?

Of course the purpose of this is, ultimately, for Njáll to catch me, so I slow a little once I feel his temper is reaching its limit. Not that he needs much help. He catches me around the middle, bringing me to the ground, and I let out a surprised gasp at the feel of his body against my own.

“Are you—Are you all right?” His concerned tone is at odds with the almost possessive way his fingers dig into my skin. His breath is hot against my throat. I bite the inside of my cheek to hold back a whimper.

“Fine,” I force out after a moment. I arch my neck, exposing one side to him. “Njáll…”

His breath hitches, though I do not know why. He noses along my throat, still pinning me, and though I could push him back and get away, I remain where I am. My breath feels as though it is coming faster now than it was when we were running.

“I won’t take too much,” he says, and then his teeth scrape over my skin, and my eyes flutter shut, and he bites down.

The pain is negligible. Njáll groans, though, when he tastes my blood, and that sound has me going boneless beneath him. He drinks carelessly at first as though surprised at the taste and every pull has me shaking, biting my lower lip to keep myself silent.

I have been bitten before, though long before I became a member of the Hunt. During sex and out of it.

It has never once felt like this.

All too soon, Njáll tugs his fangs free, licking over the marks he’s left behind. He’s shaking, just a little, and when he rolls to the side, I push up onto my forearms to get a better look at him.

He stares back at me. His pupils are blown wide, and his cheeks are ruddy. The spot he’s bitten throbs—though I must be imagining it—and Njáll’s lips part, his mouth soft and ready.

He lunges a second before I expect him to, and my reflexes are not fast enough to stop him. I growl when he pins me, pushing away a sudden flash of desire when he settles his body over my own.

Njáll pushes his face against my throat. He’s not going to bite me again, I think. No. He breathes in deeply, like a wolf might, one hand digging in just below my ribs.

“Maurice,” he says, and the sound of my name would make me breathless, but I hear the way he slurs the word. “Maurice, we could—Please.”

“No.” The word is short and sharp, as it should be. Even if Njáll were in his right mind, this would be a mistake.

He is not in his right mind. He whines, a high noise in the back of his throat, but doesn’t let me go.

Magic crackles through me, responding to the annoyance I feel. It’s all directed at myself, of course, because I should have known better than to agree to this, and so I really have no one else to blame for this situation.

I take a breath, channel it, and when I twist the two of us, pinning Njáll to the ground, he blinks dazedly up at me. His dark blond hair falls around his head like a halo, and he instantly submits, tilting his chin back as though he’s ready for me to bite, too.

I straddle his waist. There’s really no other way to ensure he’ll stay where I need him to be. He shivers when I take hold of his wrists, pinning them on either side of his head.

“Maurice,” he says again. His voice is low and heavy with desire.

“You’re intoxicated,” I say, for want of a better word. “Even if… It is not a good idea.”

“Am not,” Njáll replies. He pouts.