The fae is faster than I am. Her magic becomes sharp edges, wrapping me up so tightly I gasp, all the air squeezed out of me. I try to push at my own, to get it to fight back, or at least to strengthen the bond between me and Vlad, just enough that he knows something is happening, that he can—
She gets to her feet, eyes never leaving me as she rounds the desk and approaches. The tips of her sleek shoes touch mine and she grabs my jaw, fingernails digging into my skin. I’m lightheaded, even though the lack of air shouldn’t matter at all.
I don’t need to breathe. I need to slow down, to stop panicking. I need to find a way out of this.
Her eyes narrow. “He’s even more interesting than I thought.”
“He is?” Jakob perks up. There’s a perverse interest in his eyes when he runs them over me now. He likes me struggling. Likes me unable to fight back. I try to calm my racing heart, but it’s difficult now, panic lashing out so I can’t push it back where it belongs.
She smiles. It’s not pleasant. Did I see her pass through into our realm months ago, or did I leave before she made it?
“You’re one of Iagan’s little pets,” she says.
Who? I’m Vlad’s. Only his.
“Who?” Jakob asks.
“No concern of yours,” the fae replies, brushing him off. “But we won’t need the serum. We’re going to try something different with this one.”
“All that work, and you—”
Her magic tightens around me again, squeezing bones so tight I fear they might break, and I try to make a sound, but I can’t because her magic surges into my mouth and down my throat, snaking through every part of me like she’s trying to burn out all the power I have.
“I do not answer toyou, vampire,” she hisses, but now she sounds really far away.
My knees go weak. Her magic keeps me standing, but her magic is stillinme, trying to find every part of mine, and black creeps in at the edges of my vision.
I know where Vlad is. I know why he isn’t here.
I know this is all my fault.
Chapter Twelve
Vladimir
Grantfollowsthatabhorrentexample of a vampire through a door into the back of the club, and it is all I can do to keep my position, situated as I am to keep careful eyes on both the bodyguard and the bartender, who clearly work for Jakob.
It is a useful scheme. The bartender was wary of Grant to begin with, deeming him unworthy, but I can see howhe might work as part of a well-oiled machine. Give those young vampires spiked blood and their defences will already be lowered. The bodyguard is intimidating enough to frighten away other interested parties, and Jakob charming enough to lure the vampires in and assuage their friends’ fears.
Now he has taken Grant. Now—
The bond between us goes suddenly still. No panic. No fear. It is as though Grant has chosen to block me from sensinganythinghe feels, and for a short moment, my vision goes red.
I put my hands behind my back, one squeezing the opposite wrist. No. I trust him. He asked me to let him handle this. I told him I did not want Jakob to touch him, but I can—objectively, reluctantly—understand that he might want to go further in aid of—
My stomach turns. Centuries of self-control keep my expression even. Grant understands that he does not have to do everything Jakob wishes, I hope. We would never ask that of him. Even if the Huntsman did, I would not allow it.
Minutes pass, concern gnawing away at my insides. The bartender is busy, and besides, his job is clearly not to keep an eye on Jakob once he has chosen his prey. The bodyguard remains in position beside the booth, keeping others from taking it, but I have no doubt that most of his attention is on that door. I did not see one in the other room. There should be a way to get into the back from outside, but what if I leave here and Grant emerges and cannot find me?
I have almost convinced myself to step outside and check when my phone buzzes against my hip. It startles me, and my blessing shakes, but fortunately not enough for either of the vampires in this room with me to look my way. If the fae were here… She cannot be. I would sense it. I am sure.
When I retrieve my phone from my pocket and see Grant’s name, I do a double take. He must be far from here. Did he run? Did something happen?
I slip from the room, moving only a little faster than I should, and then out onto the street before I answer.
“Grant.”
“Vlad?” He sounds breathless. Worried. “Are you on the way back?”
