Page 58 of What Fools These Immortals Be
For high fae to have already made it over, the number who have tried must be immense. I shake my head. “The Guardians…”
“Their wards are under attack. I do not know how it is elsewhere, and I do not much care. We have a problemhere.”
I nod absently, my mind already racing. It is not so much thatIdistrust the high fae, but rather that the Huntsman does, and he is one of them. He knows what they are capable of.
And we have had close calls, from time to time. Had high fae who have wriggled through, or somehow disguised themselves, and we have almost lost entire towns, entire communities to their power or their desire for blood.
I am certain that we have, before. Before the Huntsman created the Hunt.
“Maurice,” the Huntsman says, and my attention snaps back to him. “The most important thing right now is that we stop the fae from flooding this world. Their problems are their own. Not yours.”
“I… Yes. I understand.”
“It means you will return to your original duties. Watch for anomalies. Watch the veil.”
My stomach twists. Ah. So I will no longer be watching Njáll.
I should be happy. I will always have my duties and my service to the Hunt, but this is the freedom I was given in exchange—the ability to work alone, to fight for my world on my terms, with my magic.
Somehow, that desire inside me rings hollow for the first time in my life.
“I understand,” I repeat, and the Huntsman watches me closely. “I… I should tell him. Say goodbye.”
Something that might just be annoyance flickers over the Huntsman’s face. “And here I thoughtyouwould not get attached,” he says.
My ears burn at the disdain in his voice. “I’m not,” I lie. Is the sharp look he gives me in response down to the lie or down to the fact that Icanlie at all? “I’m not. It will cause more problems if I vanish in the middle of the night.”
The Huntsman stares at me for too long, the glamour around his eyes flexing, showing me the dark depths beneath. “Very well. I have given Vladimir a lay of the land as I see it. He will coordinate from the base here. Report to him tomorrow.”
Ah. I don’t get all my freedom, then. Is that a necessity or some kind of punishment?
Or is it just that the fae are concentrated here?
“All right,” I say, my mouth dry. “I’ll let him know I’ll be there not long after sundown.”
The Huntsman nods, and he gives me one final, searching look before he turns on his heel and simply disappears. I clench my jaw so tightly that my teeth hurt.
I don’t want to leave.
The realisation hits me hard, even as I know it should not. Of course I do not want to leave Njáll behind. Leave these vampires and humans, even, especially when the fae might be a danger to them.
And, of course, Ishould. I owe the Huntsman my magic. That is the sole reason I have been allowed to keep it. Beyond that, he gave me more than I could have ever hoped for. What kind of vampire would I be without the Hunt? Far too old, for one. Perhaps lonely.
I shake my head and stalk around the side of the building. I am not lonely. I was not lonely, before, when I was living in Scotland and hunting down rogue fae. If I needed companionship, I could find it, and I did so often enough.
I pause as I round the corner and see the door. Bel is walking down the steps, though he stops when he sees me, taking me in with a glance.
“You seem…” He trails off. I gesture for him to come closer, to move away from the guards, and he does so agreeably, apparently not in a hurry to get where he is going.
“Angry,” he says once he’s close enough.
“I am… I will have to leave soon,” I say, and his face falls.
“I didn’t think it would be so soon.”
“Neither did I.”
Bel watches me for as long as the Huntsman did earlier and, oddly, I feel as though he reads me as easily, too. “Have you told him yet?”
