Page 22 of What Fools These Immortals Be
“Just after sundown. I’d been thinking all last night that I needed to go early because I hadn’t had time to pick up the wine and Carrie was coming over at nine.”
The hunter was attacked just after ten o’clock. It’s a small window—though she’s a vampire, so she can cover a lot of ground quickly.
But if she’s right, and I don’t doubt this part of her story, then it’s a smaller window too for someone to have caught her off-guard. Either the attacker was lying in wait for Samantha specifically, or they were looking for any vampire from Afsaneh’s district.
“You don’t remember drinking anything at all?”
“No,” Samantha says, frowning. “No, I—No.”
She’s not lying, not as far as I can tell, and that will have to be enough. If anything, she appears more worried than before. I give her the most reassuring smile I can hope for and gesture to the car. “Thank you for your help.”
Samantha nods warily but gets in, and I watch as the car drives away. Vlad has given me a rundown of the different territories in London, so I know Afsaneh’s reach. I know, too, where the other vampire drank fae blood, and it’s only just beyond Afsaneh’s borders.
I glance back at the clan house. Njáll will be fine for a few hours. This fae, whoever they are, is beginning to escalate in their behaviour, but it’s a leap from a couple of young vampires to the crai. He’s old enough to take care of himself.
I shove my hands into my pockets and walk away.
The pub is easy enough for me to find. It practically pulses with fae magic, which wakes the blessing in my blood, luring me in like a siren’s call. I stand outside for a moment, looking up at the sign—a man’s face, green, hollow eyes staring out from a cluster of leaves. An obvious marker if I’ve ever seen one. Vlad wasn’t joking about the number of fae here.
I steel myself before I push through the doors. The pub itself is dark, music too loud, all panelled wood and hidden corners. Heavy air presses in around me.
I miss my former freedom with a sudden intensity that makes my chest ache. The reminder has me squaring my shoulders. The sooner I find this fae, the sooner I can bargain my way back to where I belong.
More than just fae are in here, of course. Vampires, wolves, humans… Some with magic, some without. Those with—and all the non-humans—give me a wide berth. The bartender is human, though, and looks me over with no small amount of disdain.
“You here to cause trouble?”
I lean on the bar and eye him back with just as much disinterest. “No.”
“You look like you are.” He picks up a glass and pours a drink. Not for me. “Don’t.”
I roll my eyes because I’m not about to let this human try to intimidate me, but the figure I spot out of the corner of my eye has my breath catching in my chest.
Njáll.
I look over—because it can’t really be him—but there he is, leaning back against the wall and feigning disinterest in the two pretty fae who have him cornered.
He looks… good, in this lighting. Brooding seriousness rolls off him in waves, and the fae both seem to be into it if the way they’re crowding into his space is any clue.
One of them says something to him, leaning up to whisper in his ear, and I see the way Njáll’s jaw clenches.
I feel their magic, too. It’s subtle; they’re not controlling him. They can’t do that, since neither are high fae, and he does not appear to have drunk from them. But they’re tempting him. Offering him something they know he wants, in exchange for—
Fuck. The bartender grumbles as I push away from the bar, but I don’t look back. Fuck him. Fuck this. Fuck the Huntsman too, for good measure. Here I am, on the hunt for someone who’s actually dangerous, and instead, I’m a glorified fucking childminder for a vampire who’s old enough to know better.
It’s maybe ten paces before I reach Njáll and his new friends, but that’s plenty of time to work myself up into a frenzy.
“The fuck is this?” I snap, and one of the fae—the one standing closest to Njáll—flinches as though I’ve slapped him.
The other is posturing. Honestly. Like I can’t take out a gancanagh in my sleep.
“You’re not supposed to be here.” He pouts.
“I can go where I please. But youcannottry to bewitch a vampire. You know the rules.”
At least he’d fucking better. Otherwise, what’s the point of the Hunt having a base here?
“No interfering with humans,” the fae replies. His smile is a little smug.
