Still, I only nod. I can’t voice it.
“You’re protecting someone else.”
“I-I can’t…” I shouldn’t be protecting either of them. We protect humans from the fae. Not wolves. Not even vampires. Humans.
“He needs help too,” Deacon says. “But you’ve made your choice.”
I taste ash on my tongue. “I do not know what else to do.” If I tell Deacon about Quinn, I know he’ll go straight to Kieran’s pack. They’ll push, and Quinn will withdraw, and any chance he has of keeping up his side of the bargain will be destroyed.
“Maurice said there is only a small window to get Bryn’s wolf back,” Deacon says. His eyes slide over to Bryn, and the only sign he still lives is the rise and fall of his chest. I remember the way he and Quinn looked at each other when Bryn climbed into the cage. Maybe they’re not friends, but they’re friendly.
Quinn would want me to help him.
Quinn doesn’t want to lose his wolf.
“When did you lose yours?” Deacon asks, and it takes me a second to process the question.
“My wolf?”
“Yes.”
I snort. “A couple of centuries have gone by without anyone noticing, you know.”
“Maurice knows.”
“Mauricethinkshe knows everything.”
Deacon shrugs, almost like he agrees. My stomach twists. I have to tell them. We have to find the twins. And I can—I can kill them myself if it comes to it.
My wolf is gone, but am I willing to risk my life for Quinn? Not in fighting the twins. That’s a given. An easy choice.
It’ll be after. When the Huntsman comes after.
“I do recognise him,” I say because I can’t give Deacon the explanation I gave Quinn; I don’t want to tell anyone else about what happened to me. The wound is raw again after last night, and now it needs to heal a second time. “I need to tell the others.”
I turn for the door, but Deacon’s hand on my arm gives me pause. He lets out a heavy sigh and when I look at him, his eyes are shadowed.
“Kieran said you’ve been spending time with Quinn.”
My arm tenses under his hand. It gives me away. “I have.”
“I can’t—” Deacon glances back at Bryn. He made a choice, sure, but Deacon’s job is to help all the wolves in this city. “You’re looking out for him?”
“I am.”
Deacon lets go. “Good.”
I open the door and Deacon follows me as I walk back to his office. Vlad and the others don’t look up as we enter, but Vasile and Njáll do, and Vasile frowns at whatever he sees on my face.
“I recognised the wolf,” I say, and Vlad jerks his head up. “I know where we need to go.”
Only, when we get there, Mischief & Mayhem is gone. Maurice stomps around for a full two hours, but light begins to streak the sky and I know they need to get back before the sun fully rises.
“Where the fuck did they go?” He snarls as we clamber into a car Deacon provided. Noah’s the one driving, and he seems tense around all of us, but Grant sits up front with him and starts chatting away.
“They have moved before,” Vlad says. “Apparently, they can do so with ease.”
“Fuckers,” Maurice mutters. His blessing buzzes around us, just as agitated as he is.
