Page 121 of What Fools These Immortals Be
“Vampires have sire-turn bonds,” Asher points out.
“Ididn’t turn him,” I snap, and Asher shrugs.
I might be panicking. Just a little. But I can’t ask the Huntsman about this—because I don’t trust he won’t turn on us again, despite the fact that I know he needs his hunters right now—and I don’t know where else to go.
“Strange things happen when we…” Vlad trails off, and his eyes flick past me, and I know he’s thinking about Grant. “You were a witch who became a vampire and then got his magic back again. It makes some sense that something unusual might occur.”
“Is it a true soulbond?” Jeremiah asks. There’s some banked longing in his eyes, though he blinks it away when his gaze meets mine.
“It feels permanent,” I say. “I’m not… He’s happy about it,we’rehappy about it, but I don’t know what it means.”
“Pretty sure bonds mean that you’re meant to be together,” Asher says, stirring whatever he has in his pan again. He doesn’t look up at any of us, and his voice is tenser than I expect. “They’re proof of a compatible connection. If it wasn’t meant to be, your magic wouldn’t have done it.”
“And all the vampires out there with shitty sires?” Jeremiah says dryly.
“A connection, then,” Asher corrects. “Something meant to be.”
“Are we really talking about fate? We aren’t wolves,” Jeremiah replies.
Asher shrugs. He looks at Jeremiah. “Doesn’t matter, apparently. We’re fae enough,” he says and grimaces, and I don’tknow what he sees in Jeremiah’s expression, but I miss it. “Or Maurice is, with his magic. You said it feels permanent.”
“Yes.”
“And that’s what you both want?”
“Yes.”
Asher shrugs again, turning back to his pan. “Then be happy about it. Don’t catastrophise. We have enough to worry about.”
That nicely sours the mood, and as Asher pours out his and Paxton’s soup—a filling dinner, I see—I make my way back into the living room. Jeremiah and Vlad are still whispering behind me as I drop onto the sofa next to Grant.
“He’ll get over it,” Paxton says.
“Jeremiah?”
“Who else?”
Grant looks between us and frowns. “I’m missing something.”
“Nothing that important,” I say, and when I ruffle his hair, he bats my hand away, but he’s smiling now. “What are you reading this time?”
He launches into an excited explanation of the book in his hands, and Paxton’s smile is indulgent across from us, though he’s pretending not to listen, and I poke at that soft, warm place inside me that holds all my magic and now, my connection to Njáll as well.
His love travels back to me, and I smile when Grant stops talking because the others are joining us; Asher hands Paxton a bowl a second after Jeremiah plucks the book from his hands, and Vlad sits on my other side, reaching for something under the coffee table.
I could have avoided all this. I could have insisted on my return to the Highlands after the Huntsman told me my work with Njáll was done, and perhaps I would not be here right now, with these people that I am clearly closer to than I ever thought.
“Here.” Vlad presses something into my hands.
My fingers curl around my knife, magic seeping from me and into the blade without a thought.
“Thank you.”
“Do not thank me yet. You are the one who asked if we could help, so this first one is for you.”
Grant makes a disgruntled sound, but I only roll my eyes. “Okay. What do you have for me?”
Chapter Thirty-Four
