Page 59 of What Fools These Immortals Be
“Who?”
“The crai.”
“I—No.” I will have to tell him. I have to do it now because tomorrow I will be gone, and I don’twantto leave him, but I don’t want him to worry, either.
He will worry enough, probably. His conversation with Afsaneh, her support, has boosted some confidence in him. I want to see that confidence bloom with a desperation that borders on dangerous.
“You’re going to tell him now.”
I snort at Bel when I realise he’s not asking me. He stares levelly back, and I let out a quiet sigh. “Yes,” I say. “That’s where I’m going.”
“Do you think you’ll come back?”
“I—I don’t know.”
Vlad might send me out of London tomorrow. The odds that I’ll return to this city one day are high enough, but within Bel’s lifetime? Maybe. Maybe not.
“Well.” Bel shoves his hands deep into his pockets. “It was nice getting to know you, at least.”
“You too.”
He gives me a sad little smile before he walks down the path, out onto the street. I watch him go, surprised at the tightness in my throat.
Is this what I would have had if the Huntsman had never found me? Maybe I wouldn’t have wanted such solitude. Maybe Iwould have sought out the other vampires and been a part of this clan as it formed and grew.
I don’t have time to worry about what could have been. There is what was, and there is what I need to do now. And now, I need to tell Njáll that I am leaving.
Chapter Eighteen
Njáll
Idon’tlookupasMaurice lets himself into my office. I am still working my way through the list Afsaneh gave me. I want to check all the records we have on these vampires myself because at least that way, I cannot be surprised if things go wrong.
Not that I think they will. Afsaneh gave me a good rundown of the entire list the other night, and I trust that her information is solid. I just need to do this for my own sake.
“Njáll,” Maurice says. His voice sounds strange, but I don’t look up. One of the vampires has done a stint as our treasurerbefore, and I am trying to work out why she left the job. The records she worked on all seem to be fine.
“Njáll,” Maurice says again, this time with some bite to it.
I look up, and I freeze because something iswrong. I cannot pinpoint how I know because I think if most people were to look at Maurice, they would notice nothing different, but whatever he has to tell me is not going to be pleasant.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, and his eyes immediately go soft, breath hitching in his chest.
“You—” He shakes his head. “I have to leave. Tomorrow. I have to leave tomorrow.”
I lean back in my seat, the candidates for our new chieftain forgotten. “You… what?”
“I have to go.” His voice is small this time, and he is standing a few feet away from my desk, looking untethered. “The Huntsman came to see me. There are other matters to deal with.”
“The fae?” I ask.
Maurice nods.
“And he didn’t make you go tonight?”
“No. I told him I needed to say goodbye.” He fidgets, wringing his hands together for a second before he straightens his back. “I suppose I have, so…”
He heads for the door. For one second, I am astonished and furious because that was not a goodbye at all, and the next I am out of my seat, my hand slamming the door back into its frame.
