Chapter Five #2
“His territory?” Vlad’s words are a growl. “That is unsafe.”
“None of this is safe,” the Huntsman replies, tone just as clipped. I shrink back. Paxton steps back into the room, taking the situation in with a glance. “Do you forget what you serve, Vladimir?”
The temperature in the room drops by a couple of degrees, and my power presses against my skin like it wants to get out. Everyone seems just as tense, even Maurice’s ragged blessing rallying as he sits up a little straighter.
Vlad gives in first. “I serve the Hunt,” he snarls and hands my laptop back to me. I stare at the photos without really seeing them. My heart pounds against my ribcage.
I don’t know what would happen to Vlad if he lost his blessing.
Possibly nothing at all—he was a vampire before, and aside from losing access to his magic, Maurice managed well enough.
But he’s been with the Hunt for a long time, as far as I can tell.
It’s not about what that would do to him physically.
And, selfishly, I can’t help but wonder what might happen to me. I tap through to the next photo. Looks like they were all taken in the club, so I search for it and get more photos to try to get a feel for the vibe.
I’m going to need so many new clothes. Easier to think about that than dwell on the tension still in the room, or the fact that technically, I’m going home.
Does Vlad know that? I don’t know that I’ve ever mentioned it to him, and when he found me, I wasn’t there.
“You will leave tomorrow night,” the Huntsman says, absolutely no room in his tone for argument, and then he sweeps from the room and out of the house.
The door shuts and Jeremiah faintly growls a few seconds later—when he’s crossed through the wards, I guess. “You’re trying to lose your blessing, aren’t you?”
Vlad crosses his arms over his chest. Maurice and Njáll seem content enough to watch, though Njáll looks far less curious than Maurice. Paxton walks around us all and drops back into his chair with a sigh.
“You need help with anything?” he asks me. “I heard you say about clothes.”
“Yeah, for the club, I need…” I frown, wrinkling my nose.
“We could help,” Maurice says, and I think the look I give him is laced with faint horror for the way Njáll huffs with amusement. “What’s wrong with my clothes?”
“Nothing!” I say quickly.
Maurice looks at Njáll instead, who pats his ankles gently. “You wear them well,” he replies, and Maurice fucking melts into the sofa, which is weirdly adorable and also makes my heart hurt.
I dart a look at Vlad. He’s not looking at me. He’s not looking at any of us.
“I’ll ring Quinn,” I say. I remember his pack vaguely from his would-be challenge a few months ago. Sam dresses pretty well. “He might be able to pick up some stuff.”
“You only have the day tomorrow,” Vlad says, words still sharp.
My cheeks heat. “Yeah, I know,” I mumble and get to my feet. “I’ll go ring him now.”
Again, I leave before any of them can stop me, mostly because Jeremiah seems annoyed at Vlad, and I feel like I’m only making it worse. The lock on my door will do nothing to keep them out, ultimately, but I feel better flicking it shut and then I drop onto my bed and dig my phone out of my pocket.
Quinn answers straight away, which has me frowning because surely he should be eating dinner or something? I glance at the clock.
“Grant! Everything okay?”
“Yeah, sure. You?”
He’s silent for a beat. “I’m good. Did you want to come and hang out?”
I do. Desperately, sometimes, but we’ve been so busy here and I know Vlad doesn’t really want me out of the wards while it’s dangerous and I don’t like being away from him while he’s off chasing high fae…
“I need a favour,” I say instead of all that because Quinn doesn’t need me whining at him for an hour. Maybe longer.
“Sure. What is it?”
“I, uh…” I frown at the door. “So I have to go do something. I need clubbing clothes, and I don’t have anything, and I need them, like, tomorrow so I can’t order online, something that really attracts attention, you know, so would you be able to go and pick up some stuff for me?”
Quinn’s silent again for just a second too long. I clench my hand on my duvet cover. If he says no, then I guess Paxton can go and video call me.
“Yeah, okay.”
“Yeah?”
“Of course. Attention-grabbing? I might need to get Sam to help, if that’s okay?”
“Please! The more dramatic the better, honestly.”
“Yeah, okay, let me just ask him.” He sends a text, then tells me Asher is planning on being back in London the next day, which feels like good news because at least if Vlad and I are going together, the rest of them will be together for a bit.
“How’s Maurice?” Quinn asks, and I lean back against the headboard with a sigh.
“I mean, they said he’ll be okay. He’s just resting a lot. His magic feels all weird now.”
“Do you think he’ll get better? Asher told me he was hurt when I rang him this morning. That’s why you’re going off to do something, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, I think he will.” I mull the next question over.
Quinn already knows about us, of course.
I don’t think Asher keeps anything like that from him, and truth be told, I think the Huntsman understands it.
Wolves have mating bonds, like the fae have bonds.
Even he can’t fight those. I think. “And yeah, it is.”
“Is it going to be dangerous?”
“I hope not,” I say with a little laugh, but Quinn doesn’t laugh along with me. I frown, even though he can’t see it. “Really, it’ll be fine. Vlad is going with me.”
“Oh! Oh, okay. Yeah, you’ll be fine then.”
“What does that mean?”
“You think he’s going to let anything happen to you?” Quinn’s tone is teasing more than anything else, even if the truth behind his words stings a little. “You still haven’t come to see us shift. I have noticed, you know.”
I huff. Yeah, so have I. I haven’t had the chance to broach the topic again with Vlad for months, even though it’s something I really want to do. “I know,” I whine, and Quinn does laugh at that.
“When you get back from your trip, I’ll show you.”
“You’re coming here to drop stuff off tomorrow!”
“And this means you’ll hang out when you come back. You won’t think you’re too cool for us now that you’re a member of the Hunt.”
Even as I shake my head, amused, warmth suffuses my chest. I don’t know that Quinn would call me his friend, but I’d call him mine, and that’s a nice feeling I haven’t experienced for a while.
“Will you be about tomorrow?” Quinn asks. “I mean, to ring you if there’s anything we need to ask about.”
“Yeah, of course. I’ll keep my phone close.”
“Okay. See you tomorrow.”
“See you then.”
I lie there for a while after Quinn hangs up, letting my thoughts chase themselves around. No one else leaves the house. Maurice and Njáll speak in low murmurs as they make their way up to the second floor, and Jeremiah’s boots stomp up the stairs not long after that.
Paxton will be downstairs for hours yet, but I don’t move again until Vlad’s door opens and shuts further down the hall. I jump to my feet, then freeze in place, chewing my lower lip. I need to talk to him before we set off to do this thing. I don’t want him mad at me.
Okay. If I’m going to try to seduce this vampire who’s working with the fae, then I need to be brave enough to go and talk to Vlad. I unlock my door and slip into the hall, then knock gently on his door.
It’s a few seconds before I hear his voice. “Come in.”
He’s sitting up in bed when I step inside.
His chest is bare and I force my eyes up when I realise I’m looking because I might have spent the last fifteen years with him, but I can count the number of times I’ve seen him in any state of undress on one hand.
There’s an embroidery hoop in his lap and he has the needle in one hand.
“Is everything all right?” he asks, faintly puzzled, and I nod once before I shut the door.
“I just wanted… I called Quinn. He’s going to bring me some clothes later today.”
“Good.”
“Are you mad at me?”
“Sorry?” Vlad’s brow furrows and he puts the needle into the fabric, then sets the hoop aside. “Why would I be?”
“I know you don’t want me to go with you.”
“Of course I don’t.”
I try not to flinch. I know he doesn’t mean it like that, but every time he says something where I know he means to protect me, it sounds like he thinks I can’t take care of myself.
Fuck, maybe I can’t. How would I know? I haven’t had to.
“Grant, this is going to be dangerous. I do not want you in harm’s way.”
“I might be good at this.” I scowl and cross my arms over my chest. “All I have to do is get him to chat me up. It’s not that dangerous.”
A growl rumbles up from Vlad’s chest, but I don’t back down. “And discover the identity of the high fae he is working with,” he says. “This is not about the vampire. It is about her.”
“I know that.”
“Are you certain?” Vlad raises an eyebrow. “I need you to understand the gravity of this, Grant. There is a chance that, once you do this, you will never have another life.”
“What do you mean?”
“The Huntsman may want to keep you close. What if that is not what you want?”
I open my mouth and close it again because the answer I have to that can’t be what Vlad wants to hear. That’s where he’ll always be, isn’t it? By the Huntsman’s side? Why would I want to be anywhere else if this is where he is?
“I don’t know what I want,” I say instead, weakly, because it’s the only lie I think I can get away with. Vlad frowns again, and I don’t really know why.
“Go rest,” he says eventually, the line of his shoulders now tense. He picks up the embroidery hoop and puts it in the drawer next to his bed. “I will speak to you again tomorrow evening.”
Thoroughly dismissed, I step back out into the hall and let out a heavy sigh.
I know I wasn’t wrong to agree to let Vlad turn me—for all its downsides, the potential I have as a vampire is basically unlimited.
Fifteen years of following him around and listening to him and staying close to the Hunt haven’t really felt like much, even as young as I am, because infinity stretches before me and I can change my mind anytime I like.
Only, Vlad is right, isn’t he? What if I can’t? What if this is the rest of my life, and I haven’t even started living it yet?