Page 49 of What Fools These Immortals Be
“Who’s there?” I call.
The darkness is heavy as fog. My words come out muffled, but I know whoever is out there has heard them.
Fuck it. “I’m here to see Cirro. If we are not welcome, we can leave.”
“Oh, no, we don’t want that,” a silky male voice says.
I tighten my grip on my knife, clenching my jaw when I sense a wave of power heading for us. Reflexively, I reach back, grasping hold of Njáll’s wrist. They are only trying to feel us out, whoever they are, but I do not like it at all.
Njáll doesn’t react as the magic flows over both of us, but I grimace when my skin prickles.High fae. Whoever this is, they must be.
Which means they crossed through the veil.
Which means… either the Guardians did not notice, or they do not care.
I do not know which is worse.
“Ah, I see you brought the crai with you.”
Thisis worse. I must get us both out of here quickly before this fae can kill us both. I tighten my grip on Njáll’s wrist to the point of pain, but he does not make a sound.
“What do you want with him?”
“That would be telling, hunter,” the fae replies, the final word dripping with disdain. “And I have no need for one of the Huntsman’s loyal dogs at all.”
Magic flares again, and the gasp from behind me tells me that Njáll feels it too, that this fae ismakinghim feel it. I cast abouthelplessly. The way the fae’s voice is reflecting in the darkness means I cannot pinpoint his location.
But I have my knife. I havemymagic, the magic this world gave me in an attempt to make me less defenceless.
“Hold on,” I say and turn back in the direction of the road, dragging Njáll along with me. The fae’s magic nips at our heels and I tighten my grip on my knife, letting my own magic loose to surge through me.
The hilt of the knife heats under my palm. I let out a frustrated cry as I raise it, and when I bring it down in an arc, it cuts through the darkness, leaving us to stumble out of the alley and onto the street.
We’re free, but I don’t stop running. Njáll does not complain as we clatter down that street and the next, until I find an iron fence and push him up against it.
“Do not let go of it,” I say, and he nods, eyes wide and stark in his pale face. We’re not out of sight, not until I weave a soft net of magic and scatter it over both of us.
The fae must be after us. He must be. I lean up against Njáll, pinning him between my body and the fence. He will have to get through me first, and though I know I will not last long against a high fae, I am not so weak at all that.
I do not know how long we remain there, but Njáll’s heartbeat is steady when he speaks.
“Maurice?”
His voice trembles. I take his face in my hands, looking into his eyes. “Are you hurt?” I did not ask before, but when we were running, he was a step behind me. Maybe the magic got him, maybe it is working its way through his system even now and he will keel over before—
He lets go of the fence, and before I can tell him that heshould not, that the iron will keep him rooted here, will offer its ownprotection, he grabs the back of my head and his lips land on mine.
The kiss is too hard. Brutal, almost, in the way he crushes me against him.
I kiss him back immediately, of course. Match him stroke for stroke, shove him harder against the fence when his free hand lands on my lower back and remains. He kisses the breath out of me, but neither of us needs to breathe, so I don’t mind that one bit. I bite his lower lip, kiss him again, and Njáll’s growl rumbles through his chest in answer.
What are we—
Njáll lets out a ragged groan and I pull back all at once, a gasp tearing itself from my throat. We stare at each other for a moment. He’s still holding on to me, and I’m holding him, too, one hand on his shoulder, the other wrapped around the back of his neck, under his hair.
I don’t know what to say.
I don’t think I’ve ever, in my entire long life, been so lost for words.
