Page 9 of What Fools These Immortals Be
I don’t deign to answer. His chieftains have stepped back to give us the illusion of privacy—they know better than to considerme a threat, then—but a mage further down is watching me with unabashed curiosity. Suspicion, too.
I turn my attention from him and back to the crai. Njáll. “We might be better discussing this later,” I say.
“Fine.” The word comes out in a tone just this side of petulant. I suddenly sharply miss the feel of a kelpie trying to drag me to my death.
Being trapped at the bottom of that lake for a few hours wouldn’t have been better than this.
If I tell myself that enough, I might believe it.
I nod once, then turn my back on Njáll, making my way through the gathered crowds. No doubt people will flock to him in my absence, desperate for more information. For me, they step aside, only daring to eye me warily.
All except Asher and his charges. The wolf grins as I near but turns his attention to his mate instead of engaging me in conversation. Good. I do not wish to know these people. I do not wish to be in this city.
“I’m surprised he got you down here at all,” Asher says by way of greeting. He is standing back against the wall but not leaning on it. No, never that. He would never risk looking unprofessional.
As if we areprofessional.
“You know how persuasive he can be,” I say, and I do lean against the wall, resting my shoulders against wallpaper I am certain is old and expensive. Asher huffs. “He seems convinced something else is going on.”
“You don’t think so?”
I think about the kelpie and concede with a dip of my head. “I won’t be able to investigate if I’m following him around all night. My time is limited as it is.”
Asher nods. He is not a vampire, and I am not certain what he was before the Huntsman blessed him, but I do not believehe was human. I have never asked, and it is information he has never offered.
Perhaps a hunter. He spent enough time with Moreau that it seems most likely.
“When you can, go see Vlad,” he says, surprising me. “It’s been a while since he heard from you.”
“It’s been a while since I heard from him.”
“Maurice.” Asher frowns. “He can help you investigate. If needs be, I’m sure he can keep an eye on Njáll for a night or two, without…”
Asher trails off, and I look at him in surprise. Has so much changed? He would never have even considered modifying our orders a few decades ago.
He shakes his head at my expression. “You’ve been gone a long time. You missed everything that happened last year.”
“Apparently so.”
“Just go see him.”
“I will.” I planned to anyway, but I cannot deny that Asher’s insistence makes me even more impatient about it. Not that I am one to followhisrequests; only, he asks so rarely. “Where are Rook and Saide? I thought their place was by the crai’s side.”
Asher glances around us before he speaks. Only his charges are close, but then we are in a room full of supernatural creatures. Many could overhear.
“No one’s seen them since last December,” he says in a voice pitched only for my ears. “The clan was attacked. They took the body of one of the donors and left. That’s it.”
I frown, thinking. “The Huntsman…”
“I don’t think he can find them.”
Our eyes meet, and the enormity of that statement is not lost on me. He can always find us.Always.
But Rook and Saide are perhaps the only two of us who might thrive without his blessing. They’re high fae, just like him.
Or they were.
“The donor?” I ask.
