Page 16

Njáll

L ast night is a messy jumble of memories, hard to focus on and harder still to piece together, but one thing is clear: I should not have taken Maurice’s offer.

I sit on the edge of my bed. The sun has been down for half an hour or so, and I have already checked my phone. I know I have meetings ahead, meetings I have to be entirely alert for.

But I cannot put the events of last night neatly together, and I feel it is desperately important that I do that before I step outside of my rooms and have to look upon Maurice again.

I remember chasing him. That much is still clear, even though my hunger was greater than I had anticipated. I remember catching him, too.

That memory makes my face heat. Not that it was… inappropriate, considering what we were doing. Only I should not have enjoyed the feel of Maurice beneath me. That was not the point.

I bit him. I drank. I remember that.

But after that things go hazy. Maurice was close and warm, and I don’t remember all that I said to him, but I remember him pinning me down and telling me no. Shame rises, thick and fast, and I swallow around a lump in my throat.

It has been a long time since I last chased my meal, and longer still since I last enjoyed another’s touch.

Vasile pined after Deacon the entire time he was crai, I can see that now, but having a wolf as his mate had to also be convenient—he never had to worry about pushing the limits of his power too far.

After all, how am I to lie with another vampire now? I rule over all of those in London and work closely with my chieftains. The clans outside of this city are scattered, still healing, still wary of us. I might find a lone vampire, passing through…

I let out a frustrated growl and push my hair back from my face. I have not met a wolf who appeals to me, nor a mage. Humans are convenient but breakable, and their lives are so fleeting that anything long-term would either result in a broken heart or my turning someone far too soon.

Maurice is… convenient too, I suppose, and ignore the traitorous voice in the back of my head that tells me he is far more than just that. He killed for me last night. That’s important. Not to all vampires, not to all of us, but to me it is.

I shake my head and dress, and before I open the door to my rooms, I am certain I have a handle on myself and all the things I should not be feeling.

Only when I open the door, Maurice is leaning against the opposite wall, looking for all the world as though he has only been waiting there for a minute or so.

Tonight, he wears a soft, straw-yellow shirt and another pair of dark brown trousers, rolled up at the cuffs so I can see the length of his boots.

His legs stretch out, one crossed over the other, shoulders propping him up against the wall.

He smiles lazily at me, and I find I have to swallow again. “Feeling all right tonight, crai?”

I glance up and down the corridor. I do not want to invite Maurice into my rooms—that feels, somehow, as though I would be crossing a line—but I do not wish to risk being overheard. And I want answers.

“What happened last night?”

Maurice’s look is more subtle than mine, but I know he weighs the danger, too. “All we agreed on,” he says, frowning as though he wishes to know why I am asking.

“And then?” I shake my head when Maurice doesn’t answer and lower my voice further. “You killed someone.”

Maurice sighs. “Ah. That.”

“A fae?”

“Not here,” he hisses and pushes off from the wall with startling speed. “Your office, if you’re not going to invite me inside.”

I am tempted, but there is some wariness in his expression that has me nodding and stepping away from the door. We walk in silence from my rooms to my office, and the journey between the two points is short enough that we are not accosted on the way.

When the door closes, Maurice sighs. “What do you remember?”

“Someone was there. Someone… not you.”

“One of the fae. He showed you something.”

Memories flood me all at once, and I turn from Maurice to look out the window so he cannot see the way my cheeks heat. I remember what the fae showed me. Except, at the time…

At the time, I had thought it real.

I had seen Maurice, so close, giving in to all the things I wanted. I had imagined it, I suppose, or the fae had taken the images from my imagination.

“How do they do that?” My voice comes out hoarse, and I clear my throat.

Maurice is silent for a moment, but he answers before I can turn to check he is still standing there. “They manipulate your desires. Any desire. It does not have to be something profound.”

It feels that way, though. I take a shuddering breath. I do not want Maurice here, is what I need to remember. I do not require a bodyguard. I do not need a babysitter.

I do not need him at all.

“Everything is fine now,” Maurice says. “I killed him because he should have known better than to attack you—to attack any vampire. The danger has passed.”

That… feels like a lie. I dare to glance over my shoulder at Maurice, and I cannot read it from his face. Only…

“There was another one, wasn’t there?”

Maurice sighs. “Njáll…”

“Was there?”

He frowns at me, pursing his lips as he clearly considers how much he should tell me—if anything at all. Perhaps he should not. Except the desire to know has gripped me, and I feel I will follow him doggedly around for the rest of the night if that is the only way to get answers.

“Yes,” he says finally. “Yes. A selkie. I need to try to track her down.”

“Why?”

“Hunt business.” He shrugs his shoulders as though some heavy mantle has been set upon them; perhaps that is how he feels. “I’ll go tonight. You’ll stay here.”

It is not a question. I shake my head. “I’ll come with you.”

“Absolutely not!”

“Why not?”

“Why not?” Maurice repeats, incredulous. “Because there could be danger, and I am supposed to keep you out of it, for one. Because it is precisely none of your business for another.”

“And you would rather leave me here, alone, to have another meeting with Augustine?”

Maurice’s expression drops. Clearly, he has not worked out how to check my calendar on that new phone of his. He is as suspicious of Augustine as I am, I know that, but I am gambling on him considering Augustine a true threat.

In all honesty, I am not worried about him. He is not a young vampire, but younger than me, and if he were to attack, I know I would win. Even if he took me by surprise, we are in the clan house, so I am surrounded by allies.

And I do not wish to meet with him tonight. I have no better news for him regarding Quinn, and I do not know if I am disappointed or relieved by that fact. I would much rather be out investigating whatever this is with Maurice.

“You think you’re being awfully clever,” Maurice mutters, crossing his arms over his chest. His cheeks are flushed in anger, grey eyes sparking when he meets my gaze.

“I am leaving the choice in your hands.”

Of course he could decide to remain. I could have that meeting with Augustine under his careful supervision. One of the other members of the Wild Hunt could do the investigating for him.

I think he likes that idea about as much as I do.

“Cancel your meetings,” he says with a sniff. “We’re going out.”

“I got a call after sundown,” Maurice says as we get on the tube. We have not sneaked out of the clan house—I am the crai and therefore do not need to sneak —but we were discreet about our exit.

I have sent an email to Augustine, asking to reschedule, and another to Afsaneh, who I am supposed to meet after midnight. She has already told me she will handle the rest.

Maybe I need an assistant. I shrug that thought off. It might be worse than having a bodyguard, in all honesty. I do not wish to be watched so closely.

“From?” I ask when Maurice doesn’t elaborate.

“Vladimir. Vlad. He couldn’t track the selkie down before sunup, but he has a list of contacts I can go through to get more information about her.”

“We.”

“What?”

“A list of contacts we can go through.”

Maurice growls. A few seats down, a teenager sits up straighter, eyeing him warily. I give her what I hope is a reassuring smile.

“Let’s get one thing straight,” Maurice says, poking me in the centre of my chest. “There’s no we involved in this.

You are tagging along because otherwise, you’ll put yourself in the kind of situation that would certainly cause trouble—not only for you but for your entire clan.

And I’m supposed to prevent that but also prevent this, so this is the compromise. ”

“What is?”

“You can tag along. But you will not speak to anyone, and you will do exactly what I tell you.”

I open my mouth to protest, but Maurice’s glare only intensifies.

“I can spell you silent if I need to,” he says, and my mouth snaps shut again.

It should be impossible. He doesn’t look as though he is joking or bluffing.

Maybe he can…?

I can’t risk it.

“Fine,” I say. “But I need some information. Just to stay safe.”

“I’ll tell you what we need to know,” Maurice says as we pull into the next station. “Come on. We’re here.”

I follow him silently out of the tube station and down the street. We’re somewhere in Soho by the looks of things, which is not an area I often frequent. Maurice doesn’t seem to care. He jabs at his phone a couple of times, taking corners sharply as though he is not certain where to go.

“Fucking thing,” he mutters finally and shoves his phone back into his pocket.

He pauses, and so I stop next to him, looking around. It is dark, but that matters little in a city such as this. Plenty of people still walk the streets, though no one gives him a second glance when he closes his eyes.

His fingers twitch by his sides. Behind his closed lids, his eyes move from side to side.

Is he doing magic?

All at once, his eyes snap open, and he glares straight ahead. “This way.”

I lurch after him, still silent even as my thoughts rush. We make it halfway down the street before I say, “Did you just…”