Page 19

Njáll

I spend the rest of the night and some of the morning in my office. Despite Reijo’s attack—that I truly believe was only out of desperation—I feel oddly energised, though no closer to solving the problems that have arisen within the clan.

Augustine is the most urgent of them, of course. I have to convince Deacon to allow something . Some small act of contrition, something that I can use to show Augustine that we are taking this seriously.

I am taking it seriously. I understand where he is coming from, even if I have never lost a partner in such a way. He wants justice.

Or maybe just revenge.

I grimace and lean back in my chair. The Hunters’ Council imprisoned the worst of Tamesis’ followers after all was said and done.

Well, they imprisoned everyone who’d fought with him, at first. It took weeks for them to sort through everyone, to get the magic users to help figure out who had truly been manipulated and who regretted nothing at all.

There are still a handful of wolves and vampires in their cells, those who truly followed Tamesis but did not commit crimes severe enough to warrant execution.

We can do nothing else with them as long as they are a danger.

What else is there to be done, when we live as long as we do? But that is Alwynn’s problem, not mine.

Would Augustine have us lock Quinn up? That has to be better than the alternative because I believe he is out for more than just blood, and I do not want to particularly endanger the young wolf either.

My phone is in my hand before I realise it. I really should go to bed. Maurice has agreed to let me join him again tonight, and I know I must be well-rested if I am to face any of the fae.

But I need to make progress on this, too.

At first, I am surprised by how quickly Deacon answers, but I shouldn’t be. He is not truly nocturnal, even if Vasile is.

“Njáll. To what do I owe the pleasure?” His words are clipped, tone cold, and I bite back a sigh.

“Deacon. I trust you are well.”

“I’m not budging on the challenge.”

I tip my head back and stare up at the ceiling. Perhaps Vasile had the right idea, not speaking to him for a century. Chaya must have been far easier to deal with.

Sadly, she is up north, and Orion is notorious for never answering his phone unless his alpha is the one calling.

“Is there another compromise we can come to?”

“I told you, and I’ve spoken to Kieran since. He’s happy to face your vampire himself. There’s precedent for it.”

“For a challenge in the case of a murdered partner?”

“You know he didn’t mean to do it.”

“I do!” The words burst from me, tinged with my own frustration. “But the fact is that it happened. There are consequences. This is a consequence.”

Deacon’s only response is a growl, low and dangerous, and I sigh again. I shouldn’t have lost my temper. Still, neither should he. He has far more experience than I do.

“Apologies, alpha,” I say after a few silent seconds. “Do I need to loop the Council in on this matter?”

Deacon is silent, too, though I can hear him breathing. “No,” he says after a minute or so. “They won’t be any help.”

“Why not?”

“They already spoke to Quinn and came to a decision.”

I’m not surprised, though it’s not a fact I knew before now. “Which was?”

“That he had been manipulated by Tamesis into acting against his own best interests and those of his pack. That would be enough to excuse his acts, but he also risked his own life to get away and then assisted us in bringing Tamesis to his end.”

“And that’s enough,” I say. I’m not asking a question, but Deacon still takes it as one.

“Of course it is,” he snaps. “You know what Tamesis was capable of. He sent members of Quinn’s own pack to kill him, and if he’d been alone, they would have. I just… I don’t know what else to say to you, Njáll. You don’t have an obligation to this vampire if he’s not a member of your clan.”

“Who does, then?”

“What?”

“Who does?” My grip on my phone tightens.

“You had Kieran create a pack because you said there was room for it, that our treaty has failed to protect those outside of wolves and vampires and hunters. Who has an obligation to this vampire? Kieran? Are we to shelter anyone who comes to us and then close ranks, say that they have no right to their own justice?”

“No, of course not. But we don’t offer up our own to be killed because a stranger thinks they have that right.”

“I won’t allow Augustine to kill him,” I say. “But something has to be done. What would you do if more wolves came to you? You already sent your second to help some resettle. What is she doing up there with the surrounding packs?”

Deacon lets out his own heavy sigh. “You’re not entirely wrong,” he says eventually, begrudgingly, and for the first time since Augustine stepped into my office, I feel some weight leave my shoulders. “Quinn can’t face a challenge, Njáll. Even if the vampire doesn’t kill him, he won’t survive it.”

“I’ll do what I can,” I say, pushing down a flare of irrational anger. There has been no such consideration for the clan. I haven’t even heard Deacon this concerned about Adam, never mind about Elle… or me.

Tamesis held us for several days, and Elle and I did our best to protect Adam from the worst of it. We succeeded. I truly believe that.

And still… Adam is under Deacon’s care, now. Under Kieran’s, but Deacon watches over all the packs.

“Njáll,” another voice says, and I jerk my head up, startled. I did not hear Deacon pass over the phone.

“Vasile.”

“I would like to visit tonight, if I may.”

What, so he can convince me that Deacon is right? So that he can explain to me how I am handling this poorly? I swallow the growl that threatens to rumble through me; I will not show my weakness here.

“I am busy tonight,” I reply, and I know Vasile will read my tone perhaps better than anyone.

Perhaps not. I have not known Maurice for that long, and yet, I feel he knows me well already. The most important parts of me.

Vasile never knew I hunted. Maurice barely batted an eyelid when I told him.

“Ah. Tomorrow, then?”

“I don’t—” I shake my head, even though no one is here to see. “I will let you know. There is much to do here.”

Vasile chuckles, but there is little humour in it. “I expect so.”

When he doesn’t speak again, I don’t rush to fill the silence. I know Vasile has taught me as much as he can, and that I should still take his advice, still turn to him when I have difficulties, but…

He is more loyal to Deacon than he is to us. No matter how much he might try to be fair, or how much he might pretend otherwise, he and Deacon are intrinsically, magically bonded.

And Deacon? Deacon is loyal to his wolves.

“I hope to hear from you soon,” Vasile says, an olive branch, and I sigh before I take it.

“I will call you in the next few days.” It’s not quite a promise, but we both know I will do it anyway.

Provided the next fae Maurice and I meet does not try to kill me. Given my luck with them so far, it seems increasingly likely.

“I hope so, Njáll. Be safe.”

“You too.”

He hangs up first and I set my phone down before I bury my face in my hands. I am not, really, any closer to a solution with Augustine, and despite all the emails I have waded through today and calls I have made, there is still much to be done.

I get to my feet, scrubbing a hand over my face. I will sleep, and I will help Maurice, and maybe when we return tomorrow night, somehow, some of this will magically have been solved.

It is unlikely, but I can hope.