Page 17 of What Fools These Immortals Be
“There are fae just… here?”
“There always have been,” Vlad says. “More than you might be used to, but the same rules apply here as they have since the Wild Hunt was formed. If they do not cause trouble and do not interfere with humans, then they are permitted to stay.”
Well, I know that. It’s a good reminder, though. “How do they find it?”
“Some prefer the anonymity of such a populous place.” Vlad shrugs. “I do not tend to ask. They give me a wide berth.”
I can’t imagine why. Grant snorts as though he’s thinking the same thing.
“If we find anything,” Grant says, and I don’t miss the dark look Vlad shoots him at the word ‘we’, “then how do we get in touch with you? Do you have a phone?”
“I—No,” I admit, face heating a little. “I meant to ask how I go about obtaining one.”
Grant looks at Vlad. Vlad looks at Grant. And I don’t know what Grant reads on Vlad’s face that I cannot, but after a second, he laughs and jumps to his feet, racing out of the room. I frown after him.
I have missed so much. For the first time in a long time, I really feel it.
“Here,” Grant says when he comes back a couple of minutes later. He brandishes a small, rectangular box at me with a picture of a phone on the top. “I already set one up for you. Asher suggested it. You can change all the settings and stuff, or I can show you if you want.”
There is something to be learnt from everyone, but I do not want to sit and be instructed by this young vampire right now. Besides, it is close enough to sunrise that I have an excuse to get away, thrown off-balance by the fact that I fit in here less than I ever have before.
“I—No, thank you. I should go.”
I look up in time to see the way Grant’s face falls, and I resolutely do not feel bad about that fact. He has Vlad, and they are clearly… whatever they are. Asher, too, if Asher can come to Vlad’s turn with a request like this.
“My number is in the phone,” Vlad says. “As are phone numbers for the rest of the Hunt. If you need us…”
“I’ll call,” I lie. I look at them both again as we reach the front door. “Thank you both. Let me know what you find out about the vampire.”
Vlad nods. “But of course. We serve the Hunt.”
“We serve the Hunt.”
He closes the door, and I walk back down onto the street. My skin tingles; sunrise really isn’t far away.
Still, I don’t rush back. I need the time alone.
Chapter Six
Njáll
“Ineedtobecertainthat the clan is taking this seriously.”
I clench my jaw, fighting the urge to rub my temples every time Hunter Alwynn opens her mouth. It’s not that I don’t like her—I do. I think, in fact, that she is the best possible person to head up the Council right now and that one day she may even prove to have been a better leader than Moreau could hope for.
I could also do without the condescending reminder, though, that the clan should take attacks on hunters seriously.
“Where is she now?” I ask.
A vampire attacked a hunter last night. I was informed at midday, by which time she had been held by the hunters for several hours without our knowledge, which only adds to my irritation. I had two of our human clan members dispatched immediately, of course—guards, not donors—but she still spent hours alone.
She is young. I have already checked with Briar, who confirmed she is not the same vampire as the one who drank strange blood a few days ago. No. This one is from Afsaneh’s district, and the only reason Afsaneh is not here with me is because the heat of her rage crackled down the phone when I called.
It is just me and my shadow.
“In the cells,” Alwynn replies. She lets out a sigh. Another hunter is here, a younger man whose name I do not know. He stands ramrod straight behind Alwynn’s chair, eyes fixed on the back wall.
Maurice has been subtly edging across that wall since we came into the room. If I didn’t know any better, I would think he is trying to plant himself in the hunter’s line of sight.
