Page 20

Maurice

“ Y ou did not have to come if you had other matters to attend to,” I say, trying not to make my tone too curt. “I trust that you will be safe in the clan house.”

“Will I?” Njáll replies. In contrast, he sounds almost mocking, and I fight the urge to growl at him.

In truth, no. If a fae wanted to hurt him, it would not be so difficult. There is more warding on the clan house than I was expecting before I arrived, but all the same, a fae-blessed mage’s wards can hardly stand for long against actual fae magic.

Well, with a handful of exceptions. This mage who has helped them is not one of those.

“You might be safer there,” I mutter.

Njáll huffs. He ducks his head, looking at me side-on, and now he seems at least a little amused. “Sorry,” he says, which surprises me. “I worked some after we were done this morning.”

“Ah. Bad news?”

“We still can’t come to a consensus on Augustine.”

“Just tell him to fuck off,” I scoff. “You’re all—” I cut myself off. Just because I have been hiding out in the Highlands for decades, it doesn’t mean everyone else has.

“We’re all what?”

“ Civilised .”

“You say that like it’s a dirty word.”

I flash a grin at him. Why not have some fun? My voice lowers when I reply, “Maybe it is.”

I am playing with fire when I specifically told myself not to, but after everything that happened last night, I can’t bring myself to fight the urge. Njáll hears the innuendo—his eyes widen, the tips of his ears going pink.

I will never tell him, of course, that I spent the better part of last night thinking about him.

Once I had called Vlad and yelled for an hour or so, anyway.

Despite Reijo’s little temper tantrum, Njáll was useful to have with me.

I certainly would have lost my own temper, but he is more level-headed, which is probably why he was chosen to be crai in the first place.

He does not know it. He acts as though he is terribly off-kilter, and yet I have hardly met a vampire so even-keeled as he is.

Perhaps Vlad, though I am not even sure about him anymore.

“We’re here,” I say.

We’re heading for Beyond the Veil, another pub, this time in Shoreditch. It being the weekend, the streets are full of groups of young humans and the scent of stale beer.

Magic buzzes from the wards around the pub. It is more disguised than the last; all I see is the narrow entrance to a block of flats, but I can taste the power behind that. I expect there will only be fae inside.

“Will they attack us again?” Njáll asks, sounding wary. I don’t blame him.

“No.” I grimace and add, “Probably not. Vlad called ahead, this time. He said Spectra is expecting us.”

Njáll wrinkles his nose. “Spectra?”

“I didn’t ask,” I say with a shrug and press one of the buzzers next to the door.

It doesn’t matter which one I press. The wards flare as my hand passes through them, probably feeling out my magic, what kind of creature I am. I suspect that without Vlad’s call, I would have trouble getting inside.

These wards weren’t set by a high fae—that’s not possible; they can’t be here without express permission—but by someone nearly as powerful.

The buzzer sounds and I pull open the door, ushering Njáll in ahead of me if only because I’m not certain what will happen if I go in first. He makes a surprised sound, and when I follow him inside, I can’t help an impressed smile.

This pub is nothing like the one we visited last night. Humans built that, once, and a long time ago at that. This is enchanted, looking like some kind of American speakeasy, with depths even I cannot truly reach.

“Stay close,” I say to Njáll and slip past him, heading for the bar.

I don’t know the species of the fae behind the bar at first glance, but that doesn’t matter. They slip two drinks in front of me before I can even ask them a question, and when I raise an eyebrow, merely shrug in response, shaking long dark hair back from their face.

“She knows you’re here.”

“And we’re supposed to just drink these?”

The fae gives me a baffled look. “If you want.”

I roll my eyes and turn my back on them, looking out around the room. Quiet jazz music is playing, and groups of fae are huddled in the booths that line the walls. When I look to my left, I see a small dance floor. A couple, both women, are dancing together. One has wings that glint in the lights.

“It’s nice here,” Njáll says. I pass him the mystery drink. I’ve already checked it with my magic; there’s nothing but whiskey inside.

“Don’t get used to it,” I reply. “There’s every chance things will end as poorly as last night.”

“Why did Vlad call ahead, then?”

I take a sip of my drink instead of answering. Why indeed? And where is Spectra? We don’t have all night to wait; I can’t really keep dragging Njáll away from his work, especially if he still has to deal with Augustine.

“Nice to see the Hunt is still punctual,” a voice says, and I turn so quickly that I almost spill the contents of my glass. Njáll puts a hand on my back, steadying me. The heat of his palm sears through my clothes.

“You must be Spectra,” I say to the woman who has just appeared to my right.

She’s not high fae, but she’s not far off.

One of her parents was, maybe, because I can feel her magic from here, but there’s no way she would have been able to travel without us knowing about it.

She’s almost as tall as Njáll is, with a head of curls, wearing a skin-tight gold dress that pops against her dark skin.

She taps an emerald fingernail on the top of the bar. “Oh. Must I?”

“Are you?”

“Of course.” Her gaze moves past me and over Njáll. “Who’s he?”

“A friend,” I say before Njáll can answer. Not that I think he would. He seems to understand my reasoning for him to stay silent and out of trouble, generally speaking.

“I didn’t know the Hunt had friends in the clan,” Spectra replies. Her grin shows too many teeth. She’s wearing a glamour, of course, but letting it slip.

“He’s not… He’s helping me. He’s the reason I’m here.”

It’s halfway true. I need to investigate for the Huntsman anyway, but Njáll’s attack is what has upped the stakes.

“Not a chance you’ll have your little pet sit here by the bar?” She indicates the fae behind it with a jerk of her chin. “Sparrow’s lovely if you take the time to get to know them.”

I glance at Sparrow. They stare back, one eyebrow raised.

“Not a chance,” I say to Spectra, and she smiles like she expected nothing else before she lets out a put-upon sigh.

“Come along, then. I’ve somewhere we can talk.”

Njáll is only a step behind me as I follow Spectra through the pub.

We skirt the edge of the dance floor, heading for a door that is entirely encased in shadow.

No magic, though. Instead, there’s a fae who has height and breadth on Njáll.

He eyes us both with no little suspicion, relaxing only when Spectra murmurs to him.

We pass through the door, and I wonder if he is guarding it on the other side. He might look physically stronger than Spectra, but I am not a fool. She holds all the power here, both figuratively and literally.

Down one narrow corridor, then another, and finally, Spectra swings open a door that opens into a cosy sitting room. I scowl as I stamp over the threshold.

“Warping space is forbidden, isn’t it?”

She pauses from where she’s pouring drinks over in the corner and gives me a look I like even less than I did back in the bar.

“Not forbidden,” she says finally. “We’re not supposed to use powerful magic in ways that the mundane might discover us—or you. If a human managed to make it into the bar itself uninvited, I’d be surprised.”

It’s weak, but I’d need to check the rules the Huntsman originally laid down to be sure. I haven’t read them in such a long time, and I have no idea if or when he updates them.

Still, I suppose Vlad has left Spectra alone all this time. Her information must be worth it because he is usually the most sensible of us all.

Well, his recent bout of turning a human aside.

Spectra waves at the sofa—this whole place gives me the same impression as Njáll’s office, honestly—and we both sit. She hands us both a drink before she takes her own seat in a Chesterfield armchair, crossing one leg neatly over the other.

“To what do I owe the pleasure, hunter?”

“Maurice,” I say because I’m not a hunter in the way those who work for the Council are, and I don’t want her to forget that. Not that I believe she will. “Vlad said you might be able to give me more information about the fae.”

“That depends. What information do you seek?”

I sigh and glance at Njáll only once before I explain the attack on him, as well as the resulting dryad and the selkie who got away. She raises an eyebrow when I say that Reijo attacked too; clearly, he’s at least known to her, though I suspect she may know most of the fae in this city.

“If you had a photo of the dryad, I might be able to help,” she says when I am done. “But with your description of the selkie… I believe I know who you are talking about.”

“Who?”

“The selkie is most likely Sehild. She is one of Reijo’s cousins, which is why he would refuse to give her up. The dryad could have been Taimo, but I have not yet heard anything of a sudden absence.”

“Why would they be after him?” I ask, encompassing Njáll in the conversation again.

He’s being very well-behaved, all things considered. He hasn’t interrupted once. He’s just quietly sipping his drink, watching us both.

“You’re the new crai,” Spectra says, and Njáll looks at me. I nod.

“Yes,” he says. “Pleased to meet you.”

“I’m sure that’s an opinion that will change with time,” Spectra says. She sets her own glass aside. “I can’t be sure why they would target the crai and not the alpha or the head of the Hunters’ Council.”

“He was more vulnerable?” I ask.

“Sure. But they must have already planned it.”

“Why?” Njáll asks.

“Because the odds of them coming across you at random are very low.”

“No one knew we would be out,” I say. “No one.”