Page 75 of What Fools These Immortals Be
Chapter Twenty-Three
Maurice
Vladgivesmeanunimpressed look. “I told you. I have nothing until the Huntsman gets back in touch.”
Somehow—and I’m not sure how this has happened, being as I am still positive that the high fae who tried to trap me and Njáll is still out there—we have run out of jobs. I cross my arms over my chest and try to ignore the way my eye twitches.
“You have to havesomething.” I left Cheshire behind last night, holed up for the day, and didn’t sleep a wink. I can’t stop thinking that we’ve failed. And I can’ttellanyone because I don’t want to leave the Hunt, not really, but also if I don’t tell anyone soon, I think the words might just explode out of me.
“I have nothing, Maurice,” Vlad says. We’re in the living room. Grant is curled up in the corner of the sofa, as usual, though he keeps lifting his head to give me a strange, searching look. If I didn’t know better, I’d think the boy a psychic. “The Huntsmanwill be in touch tomorrow, I am sure, if not later tonight. We will find something for you.”
I shake my head but press my lips firmly together so no sound escapes. The other problem is that I am in London, and if left to my own devices, I know where I will go. I cannot go back to Njáll again. There is every chance I will try to speak with him, and then the Huntsman will find out and carry out his threat.
“Isn’t there anyone I can check in on?”
“No one has caused problems, as far as I can tell.”
“No,” I say sharply, then shake my head. Grant is watching me again. “Just… If there are all these fae coming in, the ones who were already here have to be worried, don’t they?”
I cannot interpret Vlad’s expression. “That is not…” He trails off, then clears his throat and begins again. “It is not the Hunt’s duty to ensure the welfare of the fae.”
“Is that a no?”
Vlad hears the challenge in my voice. He frowns, eyes dark, and Grant isn’t even pretending not to watch us, though now his eyes are trained on his sire. When Vlad doesn’t say anything, Grant kicks him in the hip, not at all gently.
“Grant,” Vlad says tiredly.
“Spectra called yesterday,” Grant says, and compared to us, he sounds downright chipper. “Said she’d sensed some fae hanging around and could we go see if we could feel anything, too. But you said no.”
“TheHuntsmansaid no,” Vlad says.
Grant shrugs. “Didn’t hear the words come out of his mouth.”
Vlad turns on him, giving him a glare that would makemewilt, but Grant tips up his chin and glares right back. Maybe he knows Vlad will never hurt him, but still—I’m impressed.
“Did she say that?” I ask Vlad.
He sighs. “Yes. I told her there was nothing we could do.”
“But I can do something now.”
“Maurice…”
“It’s this or something worse,” I say, already turning towards the door. “He won’t kick me out for this.”
“He threatened—”
“I’ll call you if I need anything,” I shout and make my way out of the house before Vlad can come after me.
It doesn’t take long to get to Beyond the Veil, though I feel the ripples of torn magic from the other side of the street. Fuck. There’s no way to see the damage from the outside; either some of her wards have held or whoever attacked left up warding to hide what they’ve done.
I canfeelit, though. I can smell the blood.
I’m careful as I cross the street and approach, but the magic in the warding is all Spectra’s—I recognise it from the other night. The wards shiver over me as I slip inside, and I step through the jagged hole in the wall that is now visible.
The inside is a disaster. No bodies, no blood, but the scent of it still lingers. Chairs are shattered, glass sprinkled all over the floor. I can’t see anyone alive in here, but as I pull my magic, ready to reach out, I hear footsteps behind me.
I whirl around, magic flaring, and Sparrow is standing in the doorway Njáll and I followed Spectra through the other night, distrust written all over their face.
