Not that I will. His thumb strokes over my skin again. Tears slip from my eyes, each breath growing shorter, more ragged, filling my head with pain.
Hold still, he says, like I can move, like he doesn’t want to scare me, like he’s trying to be kind and gentle even though he does not need to be here at all. He tips my head to one side, flinching at my pained groan, and my slowing heart stutters when I feel his breath against my throat.
I jerk when he bites down, when white-hot pain flashes out because it
Chapter Five
Grant
TheHuntsmancomestothe base the next evening. It’s been a really weird day. We moved Maurice from the sofa into one of the spare bedrooms, but Njáll has been here the entire day, and so have Jeremiah and Paxton.
I don’t mind that. Usually. The more the merrier. But Vlad didn’t say more than four words to me last night after they allbrought Maurice back with them, and he’s so much easier to talk to when he’s alone.
Easier. Not easy.
I wonder about ducking out now when he goes to answer the door, but Jeremiah pins me in place with a look. Maurice is awake but weak, taking up the entire sofa with the way he’s lying on it, his feet in Njáll’s lap. For his part, Njáll doesn’t look too concerned; he hardly looks up from his phone when the Huntsman and Vlad walk into the living room.
The Huntsman doesn’t seem to care that he’s there. I shrink back next to the bookcases. I don’t like the feel of his power. It’s more than what the other high fae have, that’s for sure, and I don’t know if that’s because he’s set up everything in this realm and has been here for so long, or if there’s some other reason I don’t know about.
And if thereisa reason I don’t know about, is it even worth bringing it up, or does everyone else already know? It’s not like I’m an actual member of the Hunt. I’m just Vlad’s turn.
“She tried to drag your blessing from you,” the Huntsman says, and Maurice grimaces.
“Wasn’t quite sure what she was after,” he replies, “but yes, I thought it might be something like that.”
“You will heal. Remaining here will help. I can ease some of the discomfort.”
“How long will it take?”
“A few weeks. Perhaps a month.” The Huntsman’s brow furrows. “If you had been a wolf, then you would be healed within days.”
“Ah, fuck. We’ll send Asher next time, then.”
Paxton huffs, but no one else seems that amused by Maurice’s attempt at humour. I think Asher wouldn’t mind. Not that he’s here. He’s on his way back from his own job, the trail he was chasing already gone cold.
“The next job,” Maurice begins, then shakes his head. Njáll looks at him, a frown tugging at his mouth. “We need to move quickly.”
“We need to discuss it,” the Huntsman says. The look Njáll gives him is sharper. He puts his phone away, but his other hand doesn’t move from Maurice’s ankles.
“What’s to discuss? We have credible intel,” Maurice says.
“What is this about?” Vlad asks. He sounds more curious than anything else.
The Huntsman sighs. Does he not want to talk about this? As usual, Maurice doesn’t back down, even though he’s injured.
“Three vampires have died in the past six weeks,” Njáll says. “They were all in contact with the same vampire before they passed, and I was informed that this vampire is working with one of the fae.”
“Do you have any evidence?” Vlad asks.
Maurice shakes his head. “Not as such. I’ve not had a chance to go and check. But a vampire came to Njáll personally, asking for help. And it makes sense. It sounds like things have changed since the fae broke through.”
“Where are they?” Paxton rumbles from his seat in the corner.
“Margate,” Njáll says.
I swear, my heart stops, just for a second. Margate? There can’t be vampires there. Surely not.
“Explain.” This time, Vlad’s voice is threaded with tension that I’m not sure the others hear. I don’t look at him.
