“Elle is handling two districts—which she shouldn’t, being as how new she is to her role—and I know you are handling three.” And there’s the potential threat of the fae, of course, so we need to be prepared. I don’t say that aloud. “That’s too much. Especially with how much you are bothering me to give you more work.”
“I’ll have you know that Kayode and I are working together when it comes to Savia’s and your districts,” Afsaneh says with a smile. She pulls her phone out of her pocket and types something on the screen. A few seconds later, my own buzzes over on the desk.
I give her a questioning look, which she answers with a smile.
“We said, didn’t we, that we had some candidates in mind? Kayode and I put a list together a month ago, and Briar just added some of her own suggestions. I’ve sent it to you.”
I laugh and get to my feet, swiping my phone from the desk. I lean there as I scroll through the list. A few of the names stand out—there are at least two vampires from my own former district, which shouldn’t be a surprise, but it is all the same.
Afsaneh arches an eyebrow at me when I look at her. I smile. “All right. Where should we begin?”
Chapter Seventeen
Maurice
Njálldoesnotcometo me once Afsaneh leaves that night, and after that, it feels as though the moment has passed.
I try not to mourn it. Really, I was being foolish; I cannot have him, and even if I can, our time is limited. Vlad told me that the Huntsman left for the Otherworld not long after ending our call, which was a week ago, so I expect he will be back soon, and things will likely change.
There has been no news from any of the fae in the city since I stopped my search. No vampires have been manipulated or have drunk from people they shouldn’t. I do not know if Vlad has heard from his contacts. Perhaps. If he has, he has not told me, and if he knows the identity of the high fae who tried to trap us, he has not told me that, either.
I wander the perimeter of the clan house, breathing in the chill night air. The temperature dropped last night, which I do appreciate, and though I have no need to patrol like this, I know that Njáll is safely ensconced in his office, and I want the space.
As I round the back of the building, the hairs on the back of my neck prickle, the air suddenly heavy. Ah. He’s back. I turn and the Huntsman is standing there, glamour for once firmly fixed in place as he studies me.
“You are supposed to be watching your charge,” he says.
I shake my head at the rebuke. “He is in there.” I gesture at the building. “I needed to get outside.”
The Huntsman studies me but does not ask me to elaborate. I find myself strangely nervous. Did he come straight here from the Otherworld? I doubt it. I cannot be at the top of his list of priorities; besides, he looks too… contained. I have seen him return before, the epitome of a wild, vengeful fae.
“I have already been to see the rest of the Hunt,” he says, answering my unspoken question. “Well, those of you in London. I thought to come and tell you what I discovered personally, considering you set us on this path.”
“Do you know the high fae who’s here?”
“No,” he says. Like all fae, he cannot lie. “At least, I do notknowif I know them. I have no more information as to who they may be. Past the veil, they are scattered, and the Guardians told me that at least three high fae have made it through the veil in as many months.”
I gape at him. “I… What?”
“Hmm.” The Huntsman’s expression is even, but his eyes flash dark with his anger. “I made it clear I was displeased that they had not told us, but I understand that their energies are better spent elsewhere.”
I don’t understand. Am I supposed to understand?
“The Unseelie queen is dying.”
For a moment, I feel weightless, as though I am not tethered to the ground at all. To say that this isbadnews would be the most severe of understatements. “She is?”
“I spoke with her myself,” the Huntsman says, and there is a thread of something I do not recognise in his voice. “She has been fading ever since her husband died, and now her time has come.”
“What…” I lick my lips, suddenly gone dry. “What does that mean here?”
The Huntsman gives me a sharp look, and I don’t understand that either. “It means,” he says with a sigh, “that we have a greater problem than we previously realised. The Unseelie do not believe any of their princes will return to take the throne. The Seelie believe this will lead to war or to extermination.”
“Why?”
“It is the way of things, I suppose.” He shakes his head. “The Unseelie have been in power for a long time. It would be the perfect moment for the Seelie to take that from them. But they have been subjugated, and I do not know who would rise among them and be capable of carrying the burden of the crown. Seelie and Unseelie alike are crossing over. Some want to escape a threat. Others want to flex their power here.”
Fuck. Fuckingfuck. If they’re not high fae, it’s not hard for them to cross the veil. It reacts less to their power—because they have less of it. The high fae can only cross in the weakest of places, and the Guardians keep watch over those.
