Page 48

This time, my blade digs in just above his hip and he lets go, vanishing again. I snarl, an angry, animal sound. My fangs are out, eyes likely glowing, though I am not hungry.

This fae thinks he can hunt me ? No. I let the noises around me fade away. Njáll’s terrifying laboured breathing is the last thing to go. Once I stop Meilyr, he will be safe.

The air shifts. Pressure increases, squeezing my skull. When I spot the shimmer of Meilyr’s magic again, so close that we must both be sharing our next breath, I shove my knife forward, snarling when my blade sinks into flesh.

He reappears because even if there is little magic left in my blade, it is still iron, and it will leech away whatever is left of his own.

Asher and Vlad are faster than I could hope for and combined they still might not be stronger than Meilyr, but he is injured, and this time, I do not pull the knife free.

Gasps echo around the room, chatter and surprise, but the moment I am certain that Asher and Vlad have Meilyr down, I stumble over to Njáll’s side. I drop to my knees next to him.

“He needs blood,” I say to Afsaneh without looking at her. She touches my forearm gently and Njáll’s next breath wheezes out of him. Behind me, Vlad snarls and Grant shouts something, but Asher is quiet, which means that Meilyr is staying put, even if he fights.

A hunter drops down next to Afsaneh, her wrist already bare.

“Do it,” I urge Njáll because his eyes are hazy. He did not get enough blood earlier, but if we had stopped for more… I bow my head, listening as he drinks, as Afsaneh urges him to stop, and another hunter takes the place of the first.

I am not hungry myself, though the scent of all that blood—Njáll’s, as well as the hunters’—is doing nothing for my mood.

The vampires have Augustine, who is spitting curses, and Vlad and Asher shove Meilyr over next to him, Asher having apparently secreted away some iron cuffs from the house.

When the second hunter withdraws, Njáll’s face has some colour again and his eyes focus on mine.

“You’re all right,” he says, tone full of wonder.

“I’m not the one who almost died,” I retort, voice thick with emotion and perhaps a little tight from where Meilyr tried to choke me. “Twice.”

He gives me a crooked smile and oh, I wish we were anywhere else right now because I want to kiss him but not in front of this audience. Whether or not it should weaken his position, I do not know if it would, and he just showed such strength that I will not risk it.

I grip his hand instead, and when I squeeze, he squeezes back before slowly getting to his feet. For now, I don’t move. I stay on my knees and watch as Njáll turns to speak with Afsaneh, as Deacon and Alwynn move in for more information.

They all fall silent, again, when the Huntsman walks into the room.

Only a handful of them have likely seen a true high fae before tonight, Kieran’s pack notwithstanding, but Vasile’s eyes flare in recognition, and they all feel the Huntsman’s power, whether they are conscious of that or not.

He looks as untouchable and ethereal as he ever does when not wearing his glamour, and that discarding of said glamour is a choice, one that makes my breath catch in my throat.

Meilyr is not the only threat to this realm. It is time for these people to be reminded of those who used to live among them because the Hunt can no longer keep them safe alone.

The Huntsman ignores them all and stops before Meilyr, who sneers up at him.

“I should not be surprised to see you, and yet here you are,” the Huntsman says. “The queen will not be surprised at all.”

“Fuck you and fuck her.”

“She will kill you, Meilyr. Well, have you killed. We both know she is still capable, but there is no point in debasing herself to destroy someone who could not even take care of some harmless vampires.”

The vampires surrounding Njáll bristle, but he does not. His gaze slides to me and he looks ever so slightly amused.

“And this one…” The Huntsman turns his attention to Augustine. “The Hunt has no need of you, but I understand we have some obligation in this matter.”

He looks at Njáll then, who stares steadily back. Some of the vampires are wavering under the pressure of the Huntsman’s power, and I feel it too, that desire to give in to a creature so otherworldly warring with my body’s instinctual urge to put as much distance between us as possible.

Njáll does not blink. “He assisted Meilyr in the capture of vampires and many fae. Do with him as you like.”

The Huntsman nods to Njáll and a blade flashes when he turns. Augustine gargles, blood spilling from his throat, pooling across the ground. It will be enough to keep him down, and once drained, he will not rise again.

Grant is the one holding him—Asher and Vlad have Meilyr pinned between them—and he pales, lower lip trembling for a precarious second, but swallows the emotion down. The Huntsman looks at him once Augustine is dead and when he nods, Grant lets go. Augustine’s body topples aside.

Meilyr growls, pointed ears twitching. “My turn now, is it?”

“No.” The Huntsman’s smile is thin and sharp and devoid of any humour at all. “I will accompany you through the veil and present you to our queen. She will decide how you die for this.”

He jerks his chin, and Asher and Vlad drag Meilyr to his feet, wrestling him out of the room. Grant watches them go but stands still, hands clasped behind his back.

“Go with them,” the Huntsman says, and Grant nods quickly before he races out of the room.

I expect the Huntsman to leave. I am still on my knees, and the pressure of his power is beginning to make my head ache, and I want nothing more than to get Njáll alone and make certain that he is fully healed.

I should not be surprised when his boots move into my vision, but my heart stutters against my ribs and I frown as I tip my head up.

“You did this.”

“Which part?”

“All of it.” The Huntsman crouches down, bringing our faces level. “You are not a member of the Hunt.”

The back of my neck prickles with heat. “I know that.”

“Would you like to be?”

“I—What?”

The Huntsman’s face—this fae face—does not show embarrassment, but his eyes move past me for a second, then back again. “Do you want it back, Maurice?”

It. My magic. I do , of course I do, but—

Njáll nods at me. He knows how much I miss my magic, but he doesn’t know all of it; he doesn’t know of the conversation I had with Reijo in that cellar, or the fact that I can never pretend that Njáll means less to me than he does.

“I have some conditions,” I say, my voice as even as it was in that room with Meilyr, and the surprise that ripples through the room is echoed in the Huntsman’s face.

“Conditions?”

I raise my eyebrows. He needs me more than I need my magic, which is—

It is something I never thought I would think . And yet I feel like I can say it now, that I can go on and eventually this loss will still ache, but it will not consume me.

“What conditions?” the Huntsman asks.

“I won’t be separated from Njáll again.”

I watch Njáll as I say it. His cheeks go pink, and he presses his lips together as though he is trying to tamp down on a smile. He is pleased, at least, and that is all I want.

“Very well,” the Huntsman says, “though I rather believe you proved your feelings on that matter already. Anything else?”

“We help the fae.” I hold up a hand when the Huntsman begins to speak, and he glares, showing his teeth, but holds off.

“The ones who were here already. The ones who need it and only want to be safe in this realm. We should do it… But if nothing else, they will be more likely to help us if they think we are more than their executioners.”

“And how do you propose we keep them safe ? We are here to help humans, Maurice, or did you forget?”

“We can help,” Deacon says. The Huntsman looks up at him, and he meets Vasile’s fierce gaze before his eyes drop to the way they are standing together, as close as mates should be. “We can send word outside of the city, too. There are packs who will help.”

“Vampires, too,” Njáll says.

The Huntsman frowns. He turns his attention back to me, and I hold my breath—I really do want both these conditions just as fiercely as each other, and I know which one is the more difficult for him to accept.

“Very well,” the Huntsman says. “You and your vampire can live as you like, and if there are fae who you believe require help… On your head be it if you are wrong, Maurice.”

“Of course.”

His magic wraps me up from one breath to the next, and I gasp when the blessing sinks into my skin. It burrows deep, filling that empty well inside of me. I groan in pain, head bowed, but the pain soothes when my magic flares to life again, shining and beautiful and within my reach…

The Huntsman reaches out and tips my head up so I’m looking at him. My magic—his magic—flares in response, and for a moment, that dances between us, back and forth, until it settles in me, recognising where it means to be.

“Two days, Maurice,” he says, and I blink at him in surprise.

“Two—What?”

“You heard me. In deference of your treatment and victory. I expect you to report to Vladimir and the others when two days have passed.”

He gets to his feet and walks out of the room without looking back. I stare after him. Two days…? Two days to do whatever I like, I suppose. Two days to—

I jerk my head up, eyes snagging on Njáll, who stands only a few feet away. Some people are still looking at me, I can feel it, but I don’t care. I don’t care about anyone but him.

He comes close and reaches for me and my magic wraps around him too, just for a moment. Njáll shivers as though he feels it. I get to my feet.

“Your conditions…”

“I don’t want to talk about it here.”

“I have to—”

“Do you?”

His hand tightens in mine. “No, I suppose I do not.” He turns his head and Afsaneh is there in a moment, lips curving up when she sees our clasped hands. “Can I leave you to handle things here?”

“I’d be offended if you did not,” she replies, then looks at me. “Your things are in the crai’s rooms.”

“Why would you put them there?”

“A hunch,” she says with a shrug, then intercepts Alwynn before she can reach us.

Njáll makes eye contact with Vasile, giving him a nod that is returned with no little amusement, and then he is tugging me over to the door.

I know we have not slipped out of there without everyone noticing. I don’t care. Two days. I do not want to waste another minute of that precious time with anyone who is not Njáll.