Page 80 of The Enemy to the Living
Grant’s mouth drops open. He swings around onto his knees on the sofa, and the book he’s holding falls to the floor, forgotten.
“You’reserious? What about the Huntsman?”
“He’ll see the logic in it.” He’ll have to. Maurice will back me up on this, I know it. And if Maurice pushes, the Huntsman might just give in.
Grant’s grin stretches his face, but it softens the longer he looks at me. “Thank you. I mean it.”
“Yeah, of course.”
Vlad wanders downstairs a while later, and I leave some time after that. It’s almost sunrise and I haven’t heard from Quinn yet, but maybe he’s spent the entire night at the pub. As it is, I take a bus partway home, and when I’d usually change to a different line, I just hop off and walk.
The night air is cool, turning from inky black to a deep blue with every minute that passes. Not long until sunrise now, and once the sun is up, I’ll call Quinn regardless. Maybe he decided to go back to his pack. I want to see him today like he said, but if he has gone to see them, I’m glad of it.
I spent more time helping Jeremiah and Paxton than the rest of the Hunt did, but still not that much in the grand scheme of things. I only vaguely remember Drew. I hardly remember seeing Quinn at all. Kieran was much more present. Much more the focus, the poor boy with no wolf, with a father who so clearly hated that about him.
I’m shaking my head as I turn onto my street. I’m glad they’re out, all three of them. They have space to heal if they’ll only let themselves. Once Quinn is out of the clutches of the twins, that’ll be easier for them all. And tonight he will be. I’ll make sure of that.
Light is beginning to streak the horizon. I pause, my blessing swirling in my chest at the sight of a slumped figure on the pavement leading up to my flat.
My blessing surges, reaches out.
Quinn?
I don’t hesitate. Don’t pause. I race towards him, and when I drop to my knees by his side, pain judders through me, but I don’t care. I roll him onto his back, hands shaking as my fingers flutter over his face.
“Quinn? Can you hear me, Quinn?”
Magic pulses. My blessing sinks into him the way it did the other night, then retreats all at once.
His wolf.
It’s gone.
“Fuck!”
I fumble my phone out of my pocket, looking up and down the path. I need to get Quinn out of here, but I can’t move him yet. Not if it might make things worse.
Maurice picks up on the first ring. “Asher? There’s nothing to be done until tomorrow, is—”
“It’s Quinn,” I say, practically gasping the words down the line. “They took his wolf.”
“What?”
“His wolf, Maurice! The fucking twins—He’s here, he’s outside my place, and I don’t—I needhelp.”
“Fuck. Okay.” I hear movement. Maurice didn’t come back to the base before I left, so he’s probably with Njáll. “Okay, listen. I’m going to send Paxton straight to you. You need to take Quinn back home.”
“I can’t—” I swallow down the lump in my throat. “Okay. How long will he be?”
There’s a voice in the background. Njáll.
“We’re sending him a car. It’ll pick him up and they’ll come straight to you, okay? Njáll’s going to call Deacon, and—”
“No, not yet.”
“Kieran should be prepared, Asher. Deacon can be there with them both.”
I stare down at Quinn’s face until my eyes blur with tears. His breaths are even but shallow, and as I watch, he whimpers, the sound born of pure pain.
