Page 41

Njáll

I t is not the first time I have been locked in a cellar. It is not even the first time in the past twelve months, and that realisation almost makes me smile.

Almost.

I do not stop pacing, breathing in cold, damp air as I ignore the stares I am getting from the fae shackled to the walls.

I cannot help them to get free. The shackles are iron, which weakens them, and spelled, so I cannot use strength to tear them from the brick.

The same goes for the door—I can make it halfway up the stairs before I am violently thrown back down them, and after breaking a couple of ribs and my arm, I have decided to give up on trying to brute force my way through.

Reijo is down here. His fur coat is gone, and he shivers in a blush pink flapper-style dress, watching me warily. There are four other fae, too, though I don’t think any of the others are selkies like he is.

I tried to speak to him when I first arrived. He just stared at me, looking terrified, and shook his head, angling his body as though he was trying to get as far away from me as possible.

The one thing I don’t understand is why I’m not chained. Well, no. I don’t understand why I’m here at all, being as I’m not fae, but beyond that, why am I not locked up?

I suppose I will find out. I do not rest throughout the day, though I feel the pull of the sun, and by the time it sets again, I stop and watch the stairs, wondering if I can take anyone who comes down them by surprise.

No such luck. The door swings open about an hour after sunset, and Augustine clomps lazily down the first three steps.

Is that where the magical barrier ends, or just where he feels safe? I admit I did not carefully test it. I was full of rage when I first woke up.

“Well, well, crai. It looks like you’re stuck in a precarious situation.”

“Are you going to kill me?” I ask. I don’t want to die, but I don’t fear it. I don’t know a vampire who truly does. We’ve all done it once before, after all.

“No,” Augustine says and drops down another step. “No.”

He has a fae with him—the selkie I met at the pub yesterday. She watches me with none of Augustine’s malice and a sensible amount of wariness, by my reckoning. I risk a glance over at Reijo, and the look of utter contempt on his face tells me that he recognises her.

Oh, shit. Was she the selkie Maurice and I were looking for in the first place? My stomach twists. Oh, I will never hear the end of it when I—

If I make it out of here.

“What do you want then?”

Augustine glances at the selkie woman, then back up the stairs. He shivers. “Our master would like to speak with you.”

Our master. I’m surprised at that, what with the mark Tamesis’ meddling left on Augustine, but I suppose he views this fae—because it’s the high fae, isn’t it, the one we’ve been chasing—as a being much more powerful.

I don’t even pretend I’m going to fight as the selkie woman lifts the magical barrier and Augustine runs to my side. He has cuffs now, though they’re not iron like the fae are wearing. Still, they’re heavy when he clamps them around my wrists.

It is better not to fight. Better to have an idea of what I’m up against. I already know I can’t escape the cellar—I’ve had a full day to try.

And even if I did, would I want to leave all those fae behind?

No, it is better to be compliant and see if I can find an opportunity upstairs.

Augustine is not gentle as he shoves me up the steps, and Reijo’s dark eyes are wide and fearful as he watches me go. The selkie woman follows, tugging the door shut behind us, and then Augustine is pushing me through a house I have never been in before.

We are still in London, I think. Some kind of Victorian building, but that could be many areas of the city.

Augustine shoves me out of the kitchen and down the hall to the sitting room.

All the curtains are drawn along the way, and I grit my teeth when I realise I can’t tell if there are magical barriers that will hinder my escape.

It matters not. We walk into the sitting room, and I know, immediately, that I will not be able to escape tonight.

I am not a person who can sense magic, but I do not need that ability to know that this fae is the one who trapped me and Maurice days ago.

He sits in an armchair in front of the bay window, directly facing the door we enter through.

His countenance is all power and pride, and he reminds me of Rook and Saide in the way he is not hiding what he is.

Dark eyes bore into me as Augustine shoves me into an armchair facing the fae’s. I don’t take my eyes off him. Fuck Augustine. I could kill him easily, and I think I just might.

“You are the new crai,” the fae says. His voice is light, almost soothing, and I lean forwards without thinking about it.

Is that his magic or something else?

Augustine growls when I don’t answer right away, and I resist the urge to roll my eyes. “Yes,” I say, though it must be obvious. “I am.”

“And you have been associating with members of the Wild Hunt.”

He says the final two words as though they disgust him.

“Yes, I have.” No point in lying. Everyone knows Maurice and Asher were protecting me and Deacon.

“Tell me about them.”

“Excuse me?”

The fae makes a little hissing sound, baring sharp, needle-pointed teeth. “Tell me.”

“There’s nothing to tell. And I don’t know who you are.”

Augustine’s growl is more of a snarl this time, but the fae holds up a hand to quiet him.

“No, no. Let him have his curiosity.” It is hard to tell where his dark eyes are looking if he does not turn his head, but I feel him turn his attention to me, uneasiness prickling over my skin.

“My name is Meilyr. I am an Unseelie high fae. Do you know what that means?”

“I have an idea.”

“Then an idea will suffice. How many are there, in the Wild Hunt?”

I shake my head, surprised by the non sequitur. “I don’t… I don’t know.” I know of a few of them, but I never asked how many hunters there were in total, and even if I had, I don’t think Maurice would have answered.

“How many would you estimate are in the city?”

“I don’t know.”

Next to me, Augustine tenses.

Meilyr’s lips twist into a sardonic smile. “My little pet here is anxious to sink his fangs into you, but I told him that can wait. There are other ways to get what we require.”

He twists one hand, and the cuffs around my wrists tighten, then begin to burn. I tense every muscle in my body, fighting against the pain. They know it hurts—I can see it on Meilyr’s face, even with how expressionless he is—but I won’t give them the satisfaction of showing it.

“This can stop, crai,” Meilyr says, sounding almost bored. “Just tell me what I need to know. I’m certain you won’t be betraying anyone.”

No, I can endure it. Except the pain is spreading, crawling up my arms and shoulders, and I fear if it escapes into my chest, around my heart—

I do not know how the magic that keeps me living truly works, but I know a stake to the heart finishes off a vampire well enough.

I open my mouth and drag in a ragged breath. “I really don’t know.”

“Guess.”

The pain begins to draw back, though my wrists are throbbing, aching like they’ve been rubbed raw.

“A… A handful,” I say. “Five or six?”

“Species?”

I don’t know what Asher is, truly, though I know Maurice and Vlad, who he occasionally mentioned, are both vampires. There are the two who looked after Kieran and his brother, years ago, too. Vasile mentioned them months ago. And Rook and Saide.

“Vampires. Humans.” Rook and Saide are gone, aren’t they? There’s no point in mentioning them.

Meilyr lets out a little hum, like that’s interesting to him. Does Augustine know of Rook and Saide? He shouldn’t. He wouldn’t have been in the city before they left.

“And their powers?”

“I don’t know that,” I say and mean it. I know Maurice has his magic, but the others…

The pain flares again, shooting up to my elbows, and I can’t help it; I let out a groan. Augustine huffs next to me like he’s laughing. I grit my teeth and glare at Meilyr.

“Why don’t you just ask them yourself?” I snap. “That’s got to be easier than asking me.”

“You would think so,” Meilyr agrees. The pain recedes all at once, though everything still aches. “And yet, it was far easier to take you from their clutches. They really are not as impressive as all that.”

He’s trying to taunt me, but I know better. I stare steadily at him, and after a moment or two, he huffs, sitting back.

“I dismissed that vampire when we first met, but he might be useful now. I thought he might come for you,” he says. “Perhaps we need to be more obvious about it.”

Maurice? I send out a fervent hope that he is not in London at all. Even if he is, he should not come for me. He has duties to attend to, and I am not human. The Hunters’ Council should come looking for me, not him.

“He won’t,” I say, and there’s a prickle at my wrists as Meilyr turns his attention to me again.

“Pardon?” He tilts his head to one side, a pointed ear sticking out through the curtain of his hair. “Whyever would he not?”

“The Wild Hunt deals with the fae,” I say, then shake my head. “Stops them from hurting humans. I’m not human.”

“Oh, but you were .”

That doesn’t mean anything, I think, because they can’t help me now. Not here. I don’t know how they’ll even find me.

Meilyr looks at Augustine, expression now disdainful. “Take him back down. Then go leave a clue or two, would you? I will not hunt him down myself.”

Augustine nods, now apparently respectful, and drags me up by the back of my shirt. I stumble a little and feel Meilyr’s eyes on me all the way out the door.

I’m honestly surprised Augustine doesn’t gloat or try to hurt me as he shoves me back through the house.

He takes off the cuffs once we’re at the top of the stairs, the selkie woman anxiously waiting.

I don’t dare look at my wrists. They’ll heal, but how long before that starts to slow? How long before I need to feed?

“Lift it,” Augustine says, and she waves her hand, apparently removing the magical barrier that will keep me trapped down there.

“Down you go,” Augustine says into my ear, low and nasty, and that is all the warning I get before he shoves hard, and I fall down the stairs.

I groan when I feel a rib crack, one shoulder wrenched from its socket and, at the top of the stairs, Augustine laughs.

“I’ll make sure to let the little wolf know you couldn’t help him,” he says, and I clench my teeth but don’t try to get to my feet.

Augustine stalks off, but the selkie woman remains for a moment longer, staring down at me, before she waves her hand, and the magical barrier moves back into place.

I let out a shaky breath when she closes the door.

Enough light creeps under it that I can still see, but I like the shadows all the same.

“Are you all right?” a voice croaks and I don’t lift my head to see who it is. I know it’s Reijo, even though he sounds tired and broken.

“I will be,” I say.

I do not understand why I am not locked up like they are. I grimace when my rib knits back together and then again when I realise I will have to fix my shoulder myself before it can truly heal.

It takes no little effort to sit up, to adjust my arm with my clumsy left hand and then shove it back into the socket. These last hundred years have been comfortable, I realise, when I almost cry out at the shock of pain. This would not have fazed me a century before that.

“Why haven’t they locked me up?” I ask. I don’t know that Reijo will know, but talking is better than letting my mind spin out of control.

“You know why,” he replies.

I get to my feet, and some of the other fae shrink back, but he doesn’t. There’s some anger in him that wasn’t there before.

“They want me to feed from you.”

“ He wants you to drain us,” Reijo corrects. “And then he’ll kill you.”

Their blood will make me strong, though, and there’s a chance I could escape.

Except that would mean leaving them behind. And I don’t know that it will make me stronger, either. Tamesis had fae blood, but from what kind of fae? Will a selkie’s blood help me in the way a high fae’s blood would?

“You’re thinking about it,” Reijo says, accusation colouring his voice.

“I’m thinking about the fact that it wouldn’t help anyway.” I move my arm and my shoulder aches. I can take a lot more damage than that before I’m too hungry to function and fall to bloodlust, but if they’re really intent on it… “If they keep injuring me, there might be nothing I can do.”

“But right now?”

I sigh and settle on the floor a few feet away from him. The fae next to him lets out a whimper, but I ignore her. I’m not going to hurt her. “Right now, I’m not hungry. We need to find a way out of here.”

Reijo scoffs. “We can’t. There’s no way out.”

There has to be a way out. I can’t risk Maurice ending up here. He’s not prepared to deal with this fae.

“We have to,” I say and shake my head when he starts to speak again, cutting him off. “No. Listen. I need to know everything you saw, heard, or felt since you got here. Before that, even. How did they get you in the first place?”

Reijo sighs, limbs going lax in their bindings. “Fine,” he mutters. “It was yesterday. I was at Beyond the Veil.”