Page 26

Maurice

N jáll does not come to me once Afsaneh leaves that night, and after that, it feels as though the moment has passed.

I try not to mourn it. Really, I was being foolish; I cannot have him, and even if I can, our time is limited. Vlad told me that the Huntsman left for the Otherworld not long after ending our call, which was a week ago, so I expect he will be back soon, and things will likely change.

There has been no news from any of the fae in the city since I stopped my search.

No vampires have been manipulated or have drunk from people they shouldn’t.

I do not know if Vlad has heard from his contacts.

Perhaps. If he has, he has not told me, and if he knows the identity of the high fae who tried to trap us, he has not told me that, either.

I wander the perimeter of the clan house, breathing in the chill night air. The temperature dropped last night, which I do appreciate, and though I have no need to patrol like this, I know that Njáll is safely ensconced in his office, and I want the space.

As I round the back of the building, the hairs on the back of my neck prickle, the air suddenly heavy. Ah. He’s back. I turn and the Huntsman is standing there, glamour for once firmly fixed in place as he studies me.

“You are supposed to be watching your charge,” he says.

I shake my head at the rebuke. “He is in there.” I gesture at the building. “I needed to get outside.”

The Huntsman studies me but does not ask me to elaborate.

I find myself strangely nervous. Did he come straight here from the Otherworld?

I doubt it. I cannot be at the top of his list of priorities; besides, he looks too…

contained. I have seen him return before, the epitome of a wild, vengeful fae.

“I have already been to see the rest of the Hunt,” he says, answering my unspoken question. “Well, those of you in London. I thought to come and tell you what I discovered personally, considering you set us on this path.”

“Do you know the high fae who’s here?”

“No,” he says. Like all fae, he cannot lie. “At least, I do not know if I know them. I have no more information as to who they may be. Past the veil, they are scattered, and the Guardians told me that at least three high fae have made it through the veil in as many months.”

I gape at him. “I… What?”

“Hmm.” The Huntsman’s expression is even, but his eyes flash dark with his anger. “I made it clear I was displeased that they had not told us, but I understand that their energies are better spent elsewhere.”

I don’t understand. Am I supposed to understand?

“The Unseelie queen is dying.”

For a moment, I feel weightless, as though I am not tethered to the ground at all. To say that this is bad news would be the most severe of understatements. “She is?”

“I spoke with her myself,” the Huntsman says, and there is a thread of something I do not recognise in his voice. “She has been fading ever since her husband died, and now her time has come.”

“What…” I lick my lips, suddenly gone dry. “What does that mean here?”

The Huntsman gives me a sharp look, and I don’t understand that either.

“It means,” he says with a sigh, “that we have a greater problem than we previously realised. The Unseelie do not believe any of their princes will return to take the throne. The Seelie believe this will lead to war or to extermination.”

“Why?”

“It is the way of things, I suppose.” He shakes his head.

“The Unseelie have been in power for a long time. It would be the perfect moment for the Seelie to take that from them. But they have been subjugated, and I do not know who would rise among them and be capable of carrying the burden of the crown. Seelie and Unseelie alike are crossing over. Some want to escape a threat. Others want to flex their power here.”

Fuck. Fucking fuck . If they’re not high fae, it’s not hard for them to cross the veil. It reacts less to their power—because they have less of it. The high fae can only cross in the weakest of places, and the Guardians keep watch over those.

For high fae to have already made it over, the number who have tried must be immense. I shake my head. “The Guardians…”

“Their wards are under attack. I do not know how it is elsewhere, and I do not much care. We have a problem here .”

I nod absently, my mind already racing. It is not so much that I distrust the high fae, but rather that the Huntsman does, and he is one of them. He knows what they are capable of.

And we have had close calls, from time to time. Had high fae who have wriggled through, or somehow disguised themselves, and we have almost lost entire towns, entire communities to their power or their desire for blood.

I am certain that we have, before. Before the Huntsman created the Hunt.

“Maurice,” the Huntsman says, and my attention snaps back to him. “The most important thing right now is that we stop the fae from flooding this world. Their problems are their own. Not yours.”

“I… Yes. I understand.”

“It means you will return to your original duties. Watch for anomalies. Watch the veil.”

My stomach twists. Ah. So I will no longer be watching Njáll.

I should be happy. I will always have my duties and my service to the Hunt, but this is the freedom I was given in exchange—the ability to work alone, to fight for my world on my terms, with my magic.

Somehow, that desire inside me rings hollow for the first time in my life.

“I understand,” I repeat, and the Huntsman watches me closely. “I… I should tell him. Say goodbye.”

Something that might just be annoyance flickers over the Huntsman’s face. “And here I thought you would not get attached,” he says.

My ears burn at the disdain in his voice. “I’m not,” I lie. Is the sharp look he gives me in response down to the lie or down to the fact that I can lie at all? “I’m not. It will cause more problems if I vanish in the middle of the night.”

The Huntsman stares at me for too long, the glamour around his eyes flexing, showing me the dark depths beneath. “Very well. I have given Vladimir a lay of the land as I see it. He will coordinate from the base here. Report to him tomorrow.”

Ah. I don’t get all my freedom, then. Is that a necessity or some kind of punishment?

Or is it just that the fae are concentrated here?

“All right,” I say, my mouth dry. “I’ll let him know I’ll be there not long after sundown.”

The Huntsman nods, and he gives me one final, searching look before he turns on his heel and simply disappears. I clench my jaw so tightly that my teeth hurt.

I don’t want to leave.

The realisation hits me hard, even as I know it should not. Of course I do not want to leave Njáll behind. Leave these vampires and humans, even, especially when the fae might be a danger to them.

And, of course, I should . I owe the Huntsman my magic. That is the sole reason I have been allowed to keep it. Beyond that, he gave me more than I could have ever hoped for. What kind of vampire would I be without the Hunt? Far too old, for one. Perhaps lonely.

I shake my head and stalk around the side of the building. I am not lonely. I was not lonely, before, when I was living in Scotland and hunting down rogue fae. If I needed companionship, I could find it, and I did so often enough.

I pause as I round the corner and see the door. Bel is walking down the steps, though he stops when he sees me, taking me in with a glance.

“You seem…” He trails off. I gesture for him to come closer, to move away from the guards, and he does so agreeably, apparently not in a hurry to get where he is going.

“Angry,” he says once he’s close enough.

“I am… I will have to leave soon,” I say, and his face falls.

“I didn’t think it would be so soon.”

“Neither did I.”

Bel watches me for as long as the Huntsman did earlier and, oddly, I feel as though he reads me as easily, too. “Have you told him yet?”

“Who?”

“The crai.”

“I—No.” I will have to tell him. I have to do it now because tomorrow I will be gone, and I don’t want to leave him, but I don’t want him to worry, either.

He will worry enough, probably. His conversation with Afsaneh, her support, has boosted some confidence in him. I want to see that confidence bloom with a desperation that borders on dangerous.

“You’re going to tell him now.”

I snort at Bel when I realise he’s not asking me. He stares levelly back, and I let out a quiet sigh. “Yes,” I say. “That’s where I’m going.”

“Do you think you’ll come back?”

“I—I don’t know.”

Vlad might send me out of London tomorrow. The odds that I’ll return to this city one day are high enough, but within Bel’s lifetime? Maybe. Maybe not.

“Well.” Bel shoves his hands deep into his pockets. “It was nice getting to know you, at least.”

“You too.”

He gives me a sad little smile before he walks down the path, out onto the street. I watch him go, surprised at the tightness in my throat.

Is this what I would have had if the Huntsman had never found me? Maybe I wouldn’t have wanted such solitude. Maybe I would have sought out the other vampires and been a part of this clan as it formed and grew.

I don’t have time to worry about what could have been. There is what was, and there is what I need to do now. And now, I need to tell Njáll that I am leaving.