Page 32

Maurice

I ’m just outside of Cheshire tonight, and the fae I’ve found are—shockingly—not best pleased to have me here.

I’m not at all pleased to be here myself.

They’ve been a little careless with their magic, but the ones who can glamour themselves seem to, and the most the nearby residents seem to think is that they’re a little strange.

Nothing wrong with that. I’m pretty sure most humans who unknowingly meet vampires and wolves think the same thing.

To be fair to Vlad, he told me last night I don’t have to kill them or send them back. Just check in, make sure they understand they’re supposed to keep in line. The consequences if they don’t.

It doesn’t stop the leader of the bunch glaring at me, hands on her hips. She’s a glaistig, I think, though I can’t check for hooves under her long dress.

“We’ve not broken any rules,” she says again. “There’s no need for the Hunt to come here.”

“You know things are all over the place right now. You know why I’m here.”

“I know your Huntsman is panicking.” She glances back at one of the others. None of them have even close to a high fae’s power, so I’m not all that worried about an attack, though if they all come at me at once, I might have to get out of here fairly quickly. “No one’s bothered us in a century.”

“Why are they all coming here?” I ask, ignoring her jab at the Huntsman. She’s not wrong, though I don’t think his panic is unjustified. “You have to have some idea.”

She stares at me, and I do my best to hold her gaze. Unglamoured, her pupils are square, which is more than a little unsettling. “If the queen dies,” she says, “then so do the treaties in place here. The veil, the Hunt… They’ll all be gone.”

Icy dread creeps into my stomach. That can’t be true, can it? There’s no official treaty between humans and the fae—how could there be—but that is what the Huntsman has done; it is what the Hunt is for .

“It’s no wonder many of the fae are worrying about what will come next. The Seelie, especially. They could try to seize power, but we all know that would only end in blood. It’s easier to come here.” She twirls a lock of blond hair around her finger, tugging on the strands.

It makes sense, as much as I don’t like it.

The Huntsman has not informed anyone about the treaty, I am certain.

Honestly, I do not know how he formed the Hunt in the first place.

The Guardians have been preventing high fae from pushing their way through the veil for generations—he must have proven something to them to have been allowed to stay.

Perhaps he is just that powerful? Somehow, that is not a comforting thought.

“What does it matter?” another fae asks. He’s shorter than the woman, wearing a sullen expression when I look at him. His glamour is good; he’s dressed like a teenager, and he looks like one, but I can see the magic that shimmers around him.

“What do you mean, what does it matter?”

The glaistig frowns and moves ever-so-slightly aside. She does not seem surprised by this interruption. My knife is at my waist, and I do not reach for it.

“We used to terrorise humans,” the male fae says, waving his hands around. “ We ruled here. And now, what? We answer to vampires and wolves? You’re nothing. You’re hardly a step above them.”

“And?” I ask, meeting his venomous look with my own bored expression. “What do you plan to do about it?”

He hisses through sharp teeth—there are holes in his glamour, at least—and the fae to either side of him look just as angry. Ah. Perhaps this is why Vlad sent me here. There is, at least, discontent among this group of fae, and that might just lead to something worse.

“Why can’t we have this world?” He looks me up and down. “The mages are dead. The magic left is weak, and those who have it do not know how to wield it. This world is more stable. It should be ours .”

“You know that can’t happen.” The hairs at the back of my neck are standing on end, magic tingling over my skin.

I won’t just have this fae and his friends to deal with.

I risk having to fight all of them, but considering what he’s saying, that might be the best course of action.

“The Guardians will still hold the wards. They will still keep the high fae out.”

“They haven’t,” the glaistig says, and I glance over at her. “We can feel them—their magic. There are more high fae here than just your Huntsman.”

“We’re dealing with that,” I reply through clenched teeth.

“It doesn’t matter,” the male fae says. “Either they let them in or they don’t; it doesn’t matter to us. It’s difficult to adapt to this world at first, and if the high fae come here, they’ll be disoriented. Distracted. We can deal with them as we wish.”

“You’re not taking over this world!”

The fae jumps at my outburst.

“I only came here to check that you all were not causing trouble with the nearby humans. You’re a threat.”

He hisses again. “And what if I am, hunter? You are one vampire.”

I sweep my gaze over the group. “Against how many of you? Because however many there are, you are all going through the veil.”

The glaistig steps fully back, crossing her arms over her chest. Not her, then. A few others join her, eyes downcast—they are all far weaker than she is and clearly do not wish to be caught up in this.

“Well?” I snap, and the male fae runs at me.

Magic makes him faster, stronger, but I am just as quick, and I tear a hole in the veil a second before I toss him through it. It takes some of my magic to keep it open, and two more fae follow in quick succession.

By the time I am finished, I am breathing hard, and six fae have been thrown back through the veil.

I know they will return in time. It will take them a while to perform whatever ritual they require to cross over—or to travel to a place and wait for a time when they can—but that is something we can deal with later.

The glaistig still glares at me as I flick my wrist and close the veil. Some of the fae who were with her have fled, but I think that is only to get out of my sight, so I don’t begrudge them that.

“You can’t be trusted,” she says. “You said you were only here to check on us.”

“I didn’t lie. I was. I found fae who needed to be removed from this world.” I can kill them like I did the kelpie. She has to know that. Sending them back gives them another chance—and maybe that was a mistake, but I’m being optimistic.

“Why should that be up to you?”

I meet her gaze steadily. “Because the Huntsman gave me the task.”

Her scowl fades into something more of a frown, and she doesn’t argue again as I make my way out of the little house.

Once on the street, I lean back against my hire car and stare up at it. It’s an unremarkable terraced house in a row of unremarkable terraced houses. No doubt the fae know I’m still here. It’s not that I want to intimidate them. I just… want to think.

The treaties. Does that mean the Hunt will disband as soon as the queen dies? I’m certain the Huntsman will have to travel back to the Otherworld, but I have no idea if he’ll be able to keep us together.

What if whoever takes charge means that we have to tighten our restrictions around the veil? The Huntsman is a high fae; I know that. Rook and Saide are, too. They were allowed to cross over after they were bitten by a vampire, and then the Huntsman found them.

If they all have to go back, what will we do with the fae here, then?

For the most part, they’re harmless, and that’s fine—it’s just the potential damage they could do if left unchecked.

The same as us vampires, or the wolves, or even the mages.

We have too much power to be left entirely to our own devices, even if that means building things like the clan, and the London treaty, to keep humans safe.

It’s too much. It’s all too much. I give the house one final, lingering look before I get into the car, slamming the door harder than is strictly necessary.

We can’t police the fae— that is not our job. We are responsive. We react to what has happened, or in some cases, what will happen, as long as we can be certain of that.

I can’t keep wandering around, bothering fae who have been here as long as I have, and sending them back through the veil because of what is yet to come.

What if the queen dies and nothing happens?

We’ll have ruined these fae’s lives for nothing, and we’ll have also destroyed any goodwill between us and them.

I stop at a red light and drum my fingers on the steering wheel.

I have to do as I’m told. At best, the Huntsman would remove my blessing for disobedience.

At worst, he would simply make me do it anyway.

I think—aside from Rook and Saide—I have the best chance of fighting some of the effects of his magic, but I know I would still lose.

When I pull up to the house where I’m staying, I remain in the car for a long time. These thoughts are nothing entirely new, though they were much harder to focus on when I was mostly away from civilisation. Eventually, I shake my head and get out of the car.

There is a solution here somewhere. A solution to all that is bothering me.

I just have to find it.