“Why?” Asher asks. “To rule?”
“I think we do not understand everything about the Otherworld, but that is of little import. Do we retreat to London or stay here?”
Asher’s face does something complicated. Like Maurice, he is an idealist, but unlike Maurice, he has never had the luxury of disobedience. Not that I was aware of that until recently.
“We came here to get a name,” I say.
“Do you think she’ll follow you to London?” Quinn asks, and I bite back the growl that wants to bubble forth. “Does anyone know he survived?”
“I don’t know,” I admit. “I did not—I did not ask.”
The corner of Quinn’s mouth twitches, but he nods and drops his eyes. Asher’s hand falls to the back of his neck and he leans his hip against Quinn’s side.
“What’s Grant going to want to do?” Asher asks.
I glance down at him. He has one hand splayed across my stomach and his cheek rests on my chest. I cannot see his expression from here, but I hope it is peaceful.
I could say I do not know. I cannot be certain. That we should take him home to ensure he recovers and to investigate this new power he apparently has.
But I know what he wants. This was his territory before it belonged to the vampires who now rule it. People he cares about are here. He will be furious with me if we take him home before we have, at the very least, dealt with Jakob, and even more so if I say that it was a reaction to his change.
“We will stay,” I say. “This room is well-warded.”
Asher snorts. “Yeah, nice try, but I don’t think there’s enough space in here for the four of us.” He gives his mate a heated look, and Quinn snickers. “We’ll get one on this floor. I’ll ward it.”
I bite back the concerns I wish to say aloud. Asher’s grip on his blessing has—somehow—improved since he and Quinn acknowledged their bond, but he does not have the power I have, and the wards on this room are being boosted by Grant’s new magic.
“She is high fae,” I say instead.
Quinn takes hold of Asher’s hand and presses a kiss to the back of it, over the butterfly tattoo that adorns his skin. “I’m not too worried about that,” he says, and his eyes flash silver, just for a second.
Asher’s hand shakes. He yanks Quinn out of the chair and over to the door. “We’ll be back before it gets dark,” he shouts, and Quinn laughs as they stumble out of the room and into the hall.
I snort. Grant murmurs something, more a sound than a word, and I shuffle down the bed again and press my face to his hair. I hope I have made the right decision. I hope this is what he wants.
Chapter Fifteen
Grant
Iwaketothesoundof voices. Specifically, Asher’s voice, which is confusing because I’m pretty sure he shouldn’t be here. Not that I’m sure where here is. Or why I’m sleeping when Asher is clearly here, and Quinn too, by the feel of it.
Doesn’t matter. Everything aches, but in a vague way that isn’t quite bothering me yet. Like the day after a hard workout. I’m pressed up against something firm and warm or, wait—
Someone.
Not just anyone. I let out a little hum and turn my face more into Vlad’s chest. His chest hair tickles. I kissed him, didn’t I? More importantly, he kissed meback. I try to fight the grin that wants to spread across my face, but to no avail.
“We know you’re awake, pup,” Asher says. I tense up at first—that’s what they said to me in the van—but Vlad runs a soothing hand up and down my back, and the momentary fear passes quickly.
“Don’t wanna,” I mutter, still not opening my eyes. Vlad’s chest moves, and even if no sound comes out, I know he’s amused. Asher laughs outright, and Quinn lets out a little huff.
“It is almost sundown,” Vlad says quietly. “I thought you might not wake in time.”
I lift my head as I open my eyes, so the first thing I see is his face. My breath catches in my throat. His hair is all mussed, beard and moustache unkempt like he’s been in bed beside me all day. He’s shirtless, too, of course, skin hot and soft beneath my fingers.
It’s not that. Not all that. It’s the fondness in his eyes. Did I never see it before because I didn’t want to or because he was hiding it from me? Either way, for a moment, I can’t breathe, and he stares back at me like he can’t, too.
If I’d thought he might brush the kiss off or pretend it never happened, that thought is gone. My hand drifts to one side and his muscles tense beneath my touch. We’re already in bed. We could just—
