Page 90 of What Fools These Immortals Be
“Can you stand?” Grant murmurs, head too close to mine. He was asleep, I remember, and he still should be. How loud was I to wake such a young vampire when the sun is up?
“I—Yes.” I manage it, clinging to the furniture, and Grant doesn’t try to touch me again, but one arm hovers, stuck out so that he can catch me should I stumble.
It feels as though it takes an age to make it to the sofa, and Grant’s face twists in sympathy when I let out a faint whimper as I sit down. Everything hurts and I don’t know why.
More importantly, my magic isgone. The death magic that powers us is beyond my reach—it is beyond the reach of any vampire—and so I feel empty in a way I never did in life, in a way I only experienced after I was first turned.
The front door closes, and Vlad appears in the doorway, face stricken as he looks us over.
Grant does not move from my side. “What are you going to do?” he asks Vlad.
“I—” Vlad looks at Grant, then at me, helplessly. “Nothing.”
“He’s your friend!”
“There is nothing I can do, Grant.”
“You were awake, weren’t you? You knew he was here. You knew what he would do!”
“I—”
“He almost killed him!” Grant shouts it, something wet and earnest in his voice, and I reach out, catching his wrist. It hurts less to touch him now. It is a feeling I can endure.
“There is nothing he could do,” I say, and Grant shakes his head, not looking at me. “There is nothingyoucan do. Not if you want to live.”
“That’s not fair.”
“Things are not—” Vlad begins, but Grant cuts him off with the fiercest look I’ve ever seen on a person’s face.
“Why not?”
Vlad swallows. He opens his mouth and frowns like he’s thinking, then closes it again. He doesn’t have an answer.
Neither do I.
Grant knows things are not fair, generally speaking. He is an adult. That is not what he is arguing.
It is the same thing I argued with the Huntsman just minutes ago, but with different words.
Why can’t wemakethings fair?
“Go to bed, Grant,” I say, and when he turns on me with betrayal in his eyes, I shake my head. “I will be fine, and you need to rest, too.”
“You’ll be here tonight?”
I don’t want to lie. “For a little while.”
He nods, eyes suspiciously watery, and when he stands, my hand drops from his wrist. He doesn’t even look at Vlad as he pushes past him, and the bereft look Vlad sends after him tells me they’ve never fought like this before.
“You have to leave tomorrow,” Vlad says once Grant’s door firmly shuts above us.
“Yes,” I say.
“Where will you go?”
I laugh without humour. The pain is beginning to ebb, though I’m still raw and empty at my core. “Does it matter?”
“Yes.”
