Grant
Ohmyfuck.Fuck.How am I supposed to manage weeks like this?
A week. Days. Months? I don’t even know how long this whole thing is going to take, and Vlad expects us to share abedthe entire time?
I scowl at myself in the mirror. I’m clinging to the sink for dear life, my heart beating so loudly that I’m sure Vlad must be able to hear it through the paper-thin walls.
That’s the other thing. It’s not even just about the bed. The room itself… Zero privacy. None. And I’m going to besharing a bedwith him, and apparently, he sleeps with his shirt off and then how the fuck am I supposed to take care of things when he’s right there?
I look a little rumpled after the drive, and I shove my hair back from my face in frustration, then glare at my reflection.Got to keep it together. You can do this. You’ve lived with him for a decade and a half. This will be fine.
Except Vlad has always been very respectful about giving me my space. It was obvious almost immediately that he hadn’t planned to turn me—not that he could’ve, considering the accident—but he had somewhere for me to stay as soon as we returned to the London base, and within days, he’d assigned my room as mine, and he’s never bothered me when I’m in there unless it’s urgent.
Okay.I try to finger-comb my hair a little neater, but it flops around as it usually does, dark strands falling in my eyes. Maybe I should’ve got a haircut before I came here.Okay, you can do this. You’re an adult. Mid-thirties, even.
Like that matters. I roll my eyes and turn towards the bathroom door, then rub my palms on my shorts. I need to unpack everything. Plan an outfit for tomorrow. I said I’d be useful on this mission, and I won’t let my feelings for Vlad get in the way of that.
If he’severgoing to see me as an equal, I can’t let them do it. I need him to take me seriously. See me as a partner, not a fledgling.
I step out of the bathroom and come up short when I see him resting on the bed. His back is propped up by the headboard,long legs crossed at the ankles. He’s fully clothed, but still my mouth runs dry.Fuck.
I don’t know how I’m going to manage even a day of this, honestly. Not without letting on how I feel.
Vlad’s eyes flicker open. They’re impossibly dark and he’s silent for a moment, as though taking me in. “Is this going to work?” he asks eventually, and I don’t know if he means the accommodation or the job or both.
“Yes. Yeah, I just… It’s a lot. I needed a moment.”
I don’t know if I’m imagining it or if his expression truly softens, but either way, the change is there and gone in an instant. Vlad gets to his feet, brushing down his clothes. I don’t know why. They don’t look creased, even though we were in the car for a couple of hours.
“Fine. I am going to check the route to the club.”
“I’ll come with you.”
“No.” The word is quick, sharp enough to cut, and I take an involuntary step back. Vlad sighs. “No. Let me look. I will not go inside.”
“Then why can’t I come with you?”
Vlad plants his hands on his hips, glaring down at the skirting board to his left. I set my jaw.
“Yousaid we need to communicate.”
Vlad looks at me again. “All right. Perhaps I need a moment, too.”
Oh. I blink in surprise. I don’t know why he would, and the expression on his face tells me not to push it. If it had to do with the job—had to do with anything I might need to know—I’m sure he’d tell me.
“Okay. Um. You go, then. And I’ll be here. When you get back.”
Vlad nods as though this strange, stilted way I’m speaking is absolutely normal, then crosses to the door and leaves the roomwithout another word. The magic of his wards presses against the walls. When I reach out, it tingles against my skin.
I make a frustrated sound and throw my bag onto the bed, then dig through for my pyjamas. My fangs press against my lower lip. Bad habit. I’m angry, not hungry. I strip with jerky movements and drag my pyjamas on the same way. It’s not really early enough to think of sleeping yet, but what else do I have to do?
Once I’ve settled on the bed with a book I brought along, the fight goes out of me. I know they all think I read whatever’s on the shelves, no rhyme or reason. It’s not technically untrue. Sometimes I get a passing thought about something and… that’s it. For a while.
But my main, ongoing subject is fae magic. Folklore.Anythingthat might explain what happened to me the night Vlad turned me, because I think I could ask every vampire in the London clan and they wouldn’t be able to shed any more light on it than the rest of the Hunt.
The Huntsman knows more, I think. I don’t dare to ask him because Vlad’s made it pretty clear he doesn’t want the Huntsman to know everything I can do. Not that it’s all that much. I sigh and open the book where I left off. Only problem is, I’m not sure humans of the past knew all that much, either. Piecing together theories out of tradition isn’t exactly the easiest thing in the world.
Still… It’s better than doing nothing, so I sit and read.
