But what is best for Grant is not to remain with us. It cannot be.
Chapter Three
Grant
WhenIwanderdownstairsthe next evening, blinking sleep from my eyes, I’m surprised to find Paxton sitting on the sofa in the living room.
I hardly slept at all today. I wore myself out wondering whether I should just give in and go to the clan like Maurice has offered, or whether I could try to sneak out again just so I can have a minute tobreathe.
Paxton’s face creases in sympathy when he looks at me. His power pulses around him, not as rich as what I sense from the vampires because he doesn’t have death magic sitting alongside it, I think. For a moment, I let the feeling wash over me.
If I didn’t know better—and I only do because I trust my new instincts, for the most part, and because obviously now Asher has told me—then I would’ve thought Paxton was the wolf out of the lot of them. I know he and Jeremiah spent a bunch of time watching over Kieran’s former pack. Paxton has that same calming energy that almost all the wolves I’ve met also have.
Asher does too. Obviously. But he spends a lot of time fighting his blessing, too.
“You’re going to sleep through this,” Paxton says, voice a low rumble. He sounds amused.
“I won’t.” I stifle a yawn and glare. “Iwon’t.”
I don’t ask where Vlad is. He’s somewhere in the house. Probably his own bedroom. It’s only just after sundown, and he doesn’t tend to emerge until it’s fully dark.
“Come on,” Paxton says. He moves from the sofa and sits cross-legged on the floor. I smirk at the tiny mice that decorate his socks. “We’re meditating today.”
I pull a face at that. I’m not a big fan of sitting still and doingnothing, and as much as they all try to convince me otherwise—Maurice is a surprising proponent of meditation, it turns out—this is just sitting still and doing nothing.
Paxton winces when I drop straight to the floor. It hurts a little, but my power soothes the pain in an instant, and I adjust into a position that mirrors his.
“How was everything yesterday?”
I rest my hands palm up on my knees and glare again. “You say that like you don’t know.”
I might not be attuned to the wards, not being an actual member of the Wild Hunt, but I heard Jeremiah’s voice not longafter I left Vlad in the living room. I don’t know what they talked about. Probably more high fae. I don’t really care.
“You lashed out.”
“I didn’t—”
“Your power lashed out, then.” Paxton fixes me with his serious gaze. My spine curls as I sigh. “I know whatever magic you have won’t really hurt Vlad, but we do need to control it.”
We. I frown. But my magic isn’t like theirs. The Huntsman blessed them with a tiny fraction of what he carries. It’s enough to give them all some amount of power. To give Maurice back what he had in life. To keep Asher alive without his wolf.
Something different happened when Vlad turned me, and though I think they’ve all got their theories, none of them have looked into it and none of them have asked the Huntsman.
I’ve found nothing, either, despite all the research I’ve done. All I know is that I might not always be able to control the magic I carry, but it helps me. It heals me, it keeps me safe.
“Close your eyes now,” Paxton says. His voice falls into a soothing rhythm. “Deep breath in and out.”
I smirk but do as I’m told. We both know I don’t have to breathe at all. I went a month without doing it when I was two years in, but it was… weird. Even Vlad found it unsettling. That’s the thing about being a vampire; it’s strange to notice all the things I took for granted when I was alive. You don’t know how much younoticeother people breathing until they stop.
“Where’s Jeremiah?” I murmur. I’m trying to let my thoughts drift just like Paxton tells me every time, but sometimes it’s easier to get the questions out. If Paxton is here, then Jeremiah is out doing something because I know when they get downtime, they like to spend it together. But he can’t be doing anything all that dangerous because Paxton doesn’t have that faint aura of anxious energy he gets every time Jeremiah goes off on a job without him.
“With Maurice. They’re on the trail of one of the high fae.”
My eyes pop open. “They are?”
Paxton opens his own eyes and scowls at me. “Grant.”
“Sorry, sorry,” I mutter and close my eyes again.
