“I believe she does not care,” I reply.
Harold says nothing to that. I am not certain he can. The power he is holding spills out of him all at once, and I am glad that I hear the bedroom door shut, even as Asher reappears through the curtains.
“What’s—”
The chair cracks, magic slicing through the wards we put on the ropes, and Harold moves before Asher can grab him. I chase him into the living room, not particularly careful when I slam him up against one of the walls.
Grant is still in here, sitting in front of the bedroom door. He leaps to his feet, eyes wide, but before he can do anything, Harold twists out of my grip.
For a second, he eyes Grant as though deciding whether he will be better going straight through him or killing him first. I reach out, ready to grab him, but in the next instant, Harold changes his mind.
Perhaps he has not been in his right mind since Eirian gave him her blessing. Perhaps he made the decision when I told him the truth.
Either way, he turns and jumps through the window, glass shattering around him as he leaps into the sun.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Grant
Foramoment,weall just stand there. Weirdly, I’m breathing hard, even though I haven’t particularly moved. Vlad tears his gaze away from the shattered window—and the screams and smell of smoke already coming from below—and looks at me. Relief shines clear in his eyes.
Yeah, I’m glad Harold didn’t decide to go through me, either. Not sure how that would’ve ended. I’d like to think I’d be ableto defend myself the way I saved Vlad when those fae were attacking him in the hotel, but that run-in with Eirian just proved to me that my magic might not be as robust as I thought.
Or I might not be so adept at wielding it. Bit of a sting after fifteen years, but oh well.
“Oh,fuck,” Asher says, and the bedroom door creaks open behind me. Quinn looks through the gap.
“What happened?” he asks, then looks at the window. “Ah.”
“How many people are out there?” Vlad asks. He’s keeping a careful distance from the window and from the sunlight falling across the carpet. I move so Quinn and the others can come out of the room, and Margot swears for a full ten seconds when she sees the mess.
“D-did he…?” Rachel begins.
“Yeah,” I mutter. “Better than the alternative.”
“The alternative?” Her voice goes from small to irritated, and I shrug. What did she think he planned to do?
“Fuck, there’s enough of them already,” Asher says. He ducks back inside and leans against the wall. “Oh, we’re fucked.”
“We need to clean up the mess in the kitchen,” Vlad replies, head cool despite everything. “It would be best if we were not found here at all, if you are all—”
Margot shakes her head. “No. I mean, clean up, but there’s someone I can call. You think we’re the only people who know about vampires here?”
That seems to settle Asher, at least a little, but I dart into the kitchen before he can. It’s not really that much of a mess in here, at least not compared to the window in the living room, and it’s surprisingly easy to convince the wooden chair to piece itself back together and then wrap my magic around it until it sticks.
I set it upright and poke the backrest. “Huh.”
“Impressive,” Vlad says from the doorway.
I flush. “Wasn’t hard.” It was like the woodwantedto be that shape, honestly.
“It is not something the rest of us would have achieved.” Vlad takes a step or two closer. “Thank you for protecting the others. I believe you just saved them, or at least saved Asher and me from injury.”
“No, that—That’s what I’m supposed to do.”
“Hm.” Vlad pulls me in and kisses the side of my head. “Thank you, all the same.”
I don’t think it’s just that. His hand on my shoulder is a little tighter than usual, and he lingers for a second or two before he sighs and goes out into the living room. He was frightened for a moment there, but he didn’t tell me to get inside, and he didn’t just tell me off for putting myself in danger.
