Page 37 of What Fools These Immortals Be
“Cancel your meetings,” he says with a sniff. “We’re going out.”
“I got a call after sundown,” Maurice says as we get on the tube. We have not sneaked out of the clan house—I am the crai and therefore do not need tosneak—but we were discreet about our exit.
I have sent an email to Augustine, asking to reschedule, and another to Afsaneh, who I am supposed to meet after midnight. She has already told me she will handle the rest.
Maybe I need an assistant. I shrug that thought off. It might be worse than having a bodyguard, in all honesty. I do not wish to be watched so closely.
“From?” I ask when Maurice doesn’t elaborate.
“Vladimir. Vlad. He couldn’t track the selkie down before sunup, but he has a list of contacts I can go through to get more information about her.”
“We.”
“What?”
“A list of contactswecan go through.”
Maurice growls. A few seats down, a teenager sits up straighter, eyeing him warily. I give her what I hope is a reassuring smile.
“Let’s get one thing straight,” Maurice says, poking me in the centre of my chest. “There’s noweinvolved in this. You are tagging along because otherwise, you’ll put yourself in the kind of situation that would certainly cause trouble—not only for you but for your entire clan. And I’m supposed to prevent that but also prevent this, so this is the compromise.”
“What is?”
“You can tag along. But you will not speak to anyone, and you will do exactly what I tell you.”
I open my mouth to protest, but Maurice’s glare only intensifies.
“I can spell you silent if I need to,” he says, and my mouth snaps shut again.
It should be impossible. He doesn’t look as though he is joking or bluffing.
Maybe he can…?
I can’t risk it.
“Fine,” I say. “But I need some information. Just to stay safe.”
“I’ll tell you what we need to know,” Maurice says as we pull into the next station. “Come on. We’re here.”
I follow him silently out of the tube station and down the street. We’re somewhere in Soho by the looks of things, which is not an area I often frequent. Maurice doesn’t seem to care. He jabs at his phone a couple of times, taking corners sharply as though he is not certain where to go.
“Fucking thing,” he mutters finally and shoves his phone back into his pocket.
He pauses, and so I stop next to him, looking around. It is dark, but that matters little in a city such as this. Plenty of people still walk the streets, though no one gives him a second glance when he closes his eyes.
His fingers twitch by his sides. Behind his closed lids, his eyes move from side to side.
Is he doing magic?
All at once, his eyes snap open, and he glares straight ahead. “This way.”
I lurch after him, still silent even as my thoughts rush. We make it halfway down the street before I say, “Did you just…”
I trail off. It’s a strange thing to say aloud. Everyone knows that, once turned, witches lose access to their magic. It is why so few of them become vampires.
Maurice gives me a sidelong look. “Use magic?”
“Yes.”
