Page 40 of The Enemy to the Living
Grant purses his lips, and there’s a mulish set to his mouth when he says, “He doesn’t want to listen. The bloodlust thing was bad enough. I think he doesn’t want to know if I’m different in any other ways.”
Is it that? Or is Vlad protecting his fledgling from the Huntsman? I don’t know the answer, and there’s no point in speculating.
“He cares about you.”
“I know that.”
“I’m sure he won’t mind you’re not sleeping so much, so long as you’re healthy.”
“I just feel like…” Grant sighs. “I feel like achildsometimes. I mean, I know I am, compared to the rest of you, but it’s like I have to be in my bed when the sun comes up, whether I’m tired or not, and I shouldn’t be seen until it’s dark again.”
I laugh, just a little, and Grant snorts, but I know he means it. “First of all, you and Paxton aren’t that far apart in age at all, so you can be a child with him if you like.”
“Sounds fun.”
The words are dripping with sarcasm. Grant’s lips twitch. I rest my elbows on the counter opposite him, and the hunched over position brings our faces level. “Second of all, you don’t have to stay in your room if you don’t want to. This house might be the base, but we all know it’s where you and Vlad live.Permanently. If you want to be up all day, be up all day. Just keep the curtains shut.”
“He’ll nag.”
“Does he ever not?”
“I think I really annoy him sometimes. We’ve been arguing a lot recently.”
“You’re of an age to.” I catch one of Grant’s hands and squeeze. “He’s your sire. And he’s not the type of vampire to abandon you anyway. He’s always been the most reliable of us.”
Grant doesn’t let go of my hand. “Yeah?”
“Of course.”
“I hope I am not interrupting.” Vlad’s voice is cold as ice, startling me. I didn’t see him appear in the doorway. His eyes land on Grant’s and my hands, expression unreadable.
Grant reads it, though, or something in it, because I feel him jolt, but he doesn’t pull away. I squeeze his hand and let go myself slowly.
“Of course not,” I say and put my bacon back on the ring. “Breakfast?”
Vlad doesn’t hiss—he’s far too dignified for that—but his little huff is plainly audible as he comes further into the kitchen. Grant flips open his book, all his attention apparently focused there.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Vlad raise his hand, fingers curled gently like he wants to touch. He stops himself a breath away from Grant’s hair. Grant doesn’t seem to notice at all.
I remove the bacon and crack two eggs into the pan. Not my business. Whatever’s going on between them is notanyone’sbusiness, mostly because I don’t think either of them has figured it out yet.
“You found the twins,” Vlad says, still with an icy edge.
“Yes.”
“And you left Maurice alone in Beyond the Veil.”
“I’m sure he’s fine.”
“You have not checked in with him.”
I sigh, glancing away from my eggs. “Is he not fine? Is he not climbing out of bed with his ma—lover right now?”
The slip of the tongue—almostslip of the tongue—has me frowning as I look back down at my pan.
“He is fine,” Vlad says. “You did not check.”
I fight the urge to roll my own eyes. I’m older than Grant, so I have no excuse, and Vlad’s right, anyway. I should have texted Maurice again last night, or maybe after I got up this morning.
