Page 60 of What Fools These Immortals Be
Maurice glares at me. “You can’t keep me here, crai.” His voice is even colder than it was when we first met.
I glare right back. “That is not the plan.Thatwas not a goodbye.”
“Goodbye, then,” Maurice says with a shrug. “That’s it.”
“That’s it?”
“What more do you want?”
“I—” I grab the front of his shirt and shove him back against the door, the entire time aware that he islettingme do this, that perhaps he doesn’t want to go at all.
We stay there for a moment, both silent. My head is bowed, my eyes trained on the floor. I don’t want to see Maurice’s expression. I’ve given too much away, perhaps, but I really thought…
I don’t know what I thought. I know we cannot be together. I am not even certain that would be a good idea.
But I thought we meant more to each other than this. Whatever this is.
Maurice’s hand covers my own, but he doesn’t push me away. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs, and I let out a shaky breath. “It’s all… I wasn’t expecting it.”
“Me neither.”
He huffs—it sounds amused—and I dare to look at him again. I don’t try to read his expression, but my cheeks heat from the way he looks back all the same.
“What about the fae?” I ask. “It’s worse than we thought, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” Maurice says immediately, and my eyes widen at his lack of hesitation. “Promise me you won’t investigate anything. Don’t go chasing after them.”
“Why not?”
“He thinks they’re gearing up for war.” When I stiffen, my grip on Maurice’s shirt tightening, he shakes his head. “Over there. So they’re coming here.”
“So you have to stop them?”
“I’m part of the Hunt, Njáll.”
True.
“They set a trap for us,” I say, and I’m not saying what I truly mean. They set a trap forme. Maurice’s fingers dig into the back of my hand.
“You’re safe here,” Maurice says, even though I’ve heard him rant about the wards more than once. “I’ll find him.”
“That doesn’t make me feel better about it.”
“It’s my job.”
And he was terrified, last time, and I don’t think just because I was with him. I open my mouth to say—not that, not that directly—and Maurice drags me forward and kisses me with a passion bordering on desperation.
I let him, of course. I kiss him back. Whether arelationshipwould be a good idea or not means nothing in the face of this, the way I so suddenly need him.
“You need to feed,” Maurice says when we part. He tips his head back against the door and my gaze drops to his throat.
“The donors—”
“You need to feed the way you want to,” Maurice snaps, and when I look up at him again, he doesn’t meet my eyes. “Come on. I can keep us safe enough for the next hour. Let’s go.”
We don’t go to the same park as last time. I know what Maurice is doing by offering me this. Well, I know some of what he’s doing.
He doesn’t want me to ask more questions, that much is clear.
