Page 51 of The Enemy to the Living
I wander the street that night, and Bryn makes it through, and the next night I wait outside Kieran’s pack house, my blessing ready.
It’s taken me a couple of days to realise that Quinn must have had some kind of magic keeping him concealed when he left the other night. I wouldn’t have missed the sight of him. So tonight, I keep my blessing on a short leash, and though it pushes at the edges of my boundaries, I hold firm.
The door opens and I watch him step out. Watch him pass through the wards, round the corner and—
When I get there, he’s gone. My blessing lashes out, as frustrated as I am, and I feel…
Magic.
Faemagic.
Fuck. I’m still careful to move slowly, to stick to the shadows as I trail Quinn through the streets. Once or twice he gets too far ahead, but after a while, I can make out the outline of him. The magic is making my gaze slide away, not making him invisible, and once I have a grasp on that, things become easier.
A glaistig stands at the end of an alley and I hesitate for only a second before I follow Quinn inside. Fuck the rules. Maybe I can find the missing wolf, and if I know where to look now, then if something happens to Quinn—
It won’t.
I won’t let it.
Inside is the same as the other two times I was here, though the press of fae magic around me threatens to give me a headache. The advantage of my capricious blessing is that, most of the time, I don’t notice others’ magic, either. I’m vulnerable like this, and I drag myself over to a corner, still shadowed, trying to catch my breath.
Quinn strides through into the side room, where fights are already happening.
Fingers grip my wrist. I startle, turning to see a fae squinting at me through the shield of my magic.
I recognise them… I think. No, I do. They work with Spectra.
“Sparrow?” I say. Maurice has mentioned them before. He doesn’t know exactly what type of fae they are, and neither do I.
“You’re not supposed to be here,” Sparrow says, voice hushed. “You followed Quinn?”
They know Quinn? I suppose of course they do. Sparrow and Spectra stayed with his pack for a while after Meilyr attacked Spectra’s pub.
“I need to find—The twins, they’re stealing wolves.”
Sparrow pales. “How?”
“Deals, I think,” I whisper. “But the wolf is nearly dead. I need to get it back.”
In the other room, the crowd roars. I glance that way and see Quinn climbing into the cage. They seem to like him more than they did the first time I was here.
“This place is warded to the rafters,” Sparrow says. “And they’re high fae. You understand that, don’t you?”
“Yes, but—” I can’t have come all this way for nothing. Ican’t. I tear my wrist from their grip. My blessing twists in my chest, angry, and I have no control, no plan, but I have to dosomething.
Sparrow snarls, lip curling back, and before I can move into the other room, to confront the twins or… I don’t know, they launch themselves at me. I stumble back into another group of fae, who loudly protest.
They punch me in the ribs, then lower, and part of my mind is aware that they’re pulling those punches, but the rest of it doesn’t care.
“Fuck! Get off, fuck—”
Sparrow doesn’t stop. I try to twist out of their grip, but they’re wilier than I’m expecting. Fuck. We’re drawing attention, but not from the twins. Two trolls appear out of the crowd and tear us apart, then drag us out into the alley.
“You want to fight?” one grinds out. “Do it out here or join like the rest of ’em.”
“Don’t come back until you can behave,” says the other.
They toss us into the darkness, and I stumble back but hit what feels like a wall.Fuck. I can’t get back in.
