“How does a Wild Hunt lead to establishing a barrow?” I asked, thinking aloud.
Liam stirred. “Fae magic is old magic. Primal. Its roots are deep in the earth. Once upon a time, they were easily able to establish little boltholes close to this world, entire realms they could rule while still touching the magic of this plane. That is no longer the case.”
So, Dahlia had been right in the information she shared last night.
“Another reason I can’t stop the hunt,” Thomas said, almost seeming regretful. “The council is interested in knowing whether they can succeed. Better for it to done under our watchful eye than somewhere our presence isn’t as strong.”
Liam was quiet, his eyes coming to rest on me. I stared back. It was tempting to let him try to protect me from this, to hide me somewhere the hunt would never find me—if such a thing was even possible.
But I had friends here who needed me whether they knew it or not. Jerry, for one. There was also the question of how I got the mark. Leave now, and I might never know and whoever had done this to me could just wait until all this passed to try again. Only next time they might succeed.
Forewarned is forearmed. At least now I knew what I was up against.
Liam read all this on my face. His sigh held a note of frustration and he looked like he wanted to keep arguing.
“We’ll figure this out,” he told me.
I nodded. We would. There was no other choice.
“For now, I say we figure out what happened to your vampires,” I told him.
It would keep my mind busy and away from thoughts of what might happen a few nights from now. There was also the fact that the two matters were connected. It was clear Niamh had a hand in both. Figure out one thing and you were halfway to figuring out the next.
He nodded, reluctantly, still frowning darkly at me.
I prepared to stand. “We should see what we can find out about the bodies.”
“You need blood,” Thomas said, his voice implacable. “You’re weak and can barely stand.”
I grunted, not needing the reminder. Much as I hated to admit it, Thomas was right. I wasn’t going anywhere. Whatever strength I’d managed to gain from Liam’s blood, it was gone now. Wiped away as if it had never been.
I hadn’t felt this weak since waking up from my change. I was as unsteady and exhausted as a newborn.
The magic on my shoulder flexed, reminding me of another reason I needed to find strength. Right now, it seemed dormant, content to remain where it was. That probably wouldn’t last. When it acted, I needed to be at my best, not my worst.
I settled back and nodded.
Thomas seemed slightly surprised by my capitulation, even as he turned away to summon refreshments.
I sighed. Sometimes I hated being as weak as I was.
Before any of us said anything, a soft knock came at the door.
“Enter,” Thomas called.
Deborah slipped in, her gaze lowered submissively. A companion of one of Thomas’s vampires, Deborah was human and regularly donated blood to her chosen vampire.
I held myself stiff as I watched the three people in the room. Thomas knew my rules. I didn’t feed from humans.
“How may I be of help, master?” Deborah kept her voice diffident and her eyes lowered. It was a complete difference from the strong, assertive woman I’d met before.
I had to wonder if this was the appearance she gave to all vampires or just something reserved for Thomas.
“My yearling is in need of your services,” Thomas said. He watched me much as a cat watched a mouse, waiting for the inevitable explosion.
His request startled her, enough that she dropped the facade, her head jerking up as her gaze met mine. There was anger there, loathing too. She didn’t want to be my walking meal for the night. That much was clear.
She lowered her head and said, “Of course, master.”
