Chapter Seven
Grant
Oh my fuck. Fuck. How am I supposed to manage weeks like this?
A week. Days. Months? I don’t even know how long this whole thing is going to take, and Vlad expects us to share a bed the entire time?
I scowl at myself in the mirror. I’m clinging to the sink for dear life, my heart beating so loudly that I’m sure Vlad must be able to hear it through the paper-thin walls.
That’s the other thing. It’s not even just about the bed. The room itself… Zero privacy. None. And I’m going to be sharing a bed with him, and apparently, he sleeps with his shirt off and then how the fuck am I supposed to take care of things when he’s right there?
I look a little rumpled after the drive, and I shove my hair back from my face in frustration, then glare at my reflection. Got to keep it together. You can do this. You’ve lived with him for a decade and a half. This will be fine.
Except Vlad has always been very respectful about giving me my space.
It was obvious almost immediately that he hadn’t planned to turn me—not that he could’ve, considering the accident—but he had somewhere for me to stay as soon as we returned to the London base, and within days, he’d assigned my room as mine, and he’s never bothered me when I’m in there unless it’s urgent.
Okay. I try to finger-comb my hair a little neater, but it flops around as it usually does, dark strands falling in my eyes. Maybe I should’ve got a haircut before I came here. Okay, you can do this. You’re an adult. Mid-thirties, even.
Like that matters. I roll my eyes and turn towards the bathroom door, then rub my palms on my shorts. I need to unpack everything. Plan an outfit for tomorrow. I said I’d be useful on this mission, and I won’t let my feelings for Vlad get in the way of that.
If he’s ever going to see me as an equal, I can’t let them do it. I need him to take me seriously. See me as a partner, not a fledgling.
I step out of the bathroom and come up short when I see him resting on the bed. His back is propped up by the headboard, long legs crossed at the ankles. He’s fully clothed, but still my mouth runs dry. Fuck.
I don’t know how I’m going to manage even a day of this, honestly. Not without letting on how I feel.
Vlad’s eyes flicker open. They’re impossibly dark and he’s silent for a moment, as though taking me in. “Is this going to work?” he asks eventually, and I don’t know if he means the accommodation or the job or both.
“Yes. Yeah, I just… It’s a lot. I needed a moment.”
I don’t know if I’m imagining it or if his expression truly softens, but either way, the change is there and gone in an instant. Vlad gets to his feet, brushing down his clothes. I don’t know why. They don’t look creased, even though we were in the car for a couple of hours.
“Fine. I am going to check the route to the club.”
“I’ll come with you.”
“No.” The word is quick, sharp enough to cut, and I take an involuntary step back. Vlad sighs. “No. Let me look. I will not go inside.”
“Then why can’t I come with you?”
Vlad plants his hands on his hips, glaring down at the skirting board to his left. I set my jaw.
“You said we need to communicate.”
Vlad looks at me again. “All right. Perhaps I need a moment, too.”
Oh. I blink in surprise. I don’t know why he would, and the expression on his face tells me not to push it. If it had to do with the job—had to do with anything I might need to know—I’m sure he’d tell me.
“Okay. Um. You go, then. And I’ll be here. When you get back.”
Vlad nods as though this strange, stilted way I’m speaking is absolutely normal, then crosses to the door and leaves the room without another word. The magic of his wards presses against the walls. When I reach out, it tingles against my skin.
I make a frustrated sound and throw my bag onto the bed, then dig through for my pyjamas.
My fangs press against my lower lip. Bad habit.
I’m angry, not hungry. I strip with jerky movements and drag my pyjamas on the same way.
It’s not really early enough to think of sleeping yet, but what else do I have to do?
Once I’ve settled on the bed with a book I brought along, the fight goes out of me. I know they all think I read whatever’s on the shelves, no rhyme or reason. It’s not technically untrue. Sometimes I get a passing thought about something and… that’s it. For a while.
But my main, ongoing subject is fae magic. Folklore. Anything that might explain what happened to me the night Vlad turned me, because I think I could ask every vampire in the London clan and they wouldn’t be able to shed any more light on it than the rest of the Hunt.
The Huntsman knows more, I think. I don’t dare to ask him because Vlad’s made it pretty clear he doesn’t want the Huntsman to know everything I can do.
Not that it’s all that much. I sigh and open the book where I left off.
Only problem is, I’m not sure humans of the past knew all that much, either.
Piecing together theories out of tradition isn’t exactly the easiest thing in the world.
Still… It’s better than doing nothing, so I sit and read.
Vlad comes back before I fall asleep, but we don’t talk a lot. I sleep little during the day, restless but doing my best to keep still and stay out of Vlad’s space, and by the time we’re up and moving that evening, I don’t think he’s slept much, either.
Once the bed is clear, I lay out all the clothes Quinn and Sam picked up for me and take a few steps back, pursing my lips as I stare at them. Vlad is sitting on the stool, and he doesn’t look pleased about it.
Maybe that’s just his face.
“This and…” I run my fingers over the shorts, then over a dark mesh top. I don’t think that’s right. This isn’t exactly my style. And the makeup, too…
“Do you need assistance?”
“You can help?” I regret the words as soon as they leave my mouth, but Vlad only huffs in response. Not fair of me. Vlad always dresses well, even if dressing well means formal-ish, which is not my style at all.
“I can try.” He gets to his feet and brushes down his trousers before he takes the one step needed to stand next to the bed.
For several seconds, he’s silent, then he reaches out and picks up the shorts, the long-sleeved mesh top I was already looking at, and the harness I’m not entirely sure I know how to put on. “Here.”
“I…” I swallow hard. “You’re sure?”
“Go put them on.”
There’s no room in his tone for argument, and even though that’s never stopped me from arguing with him in the past, something feels different right now. I nod meekly and head into the bathroom, letting out a heavy breath once the door is shut.
The shorts are tight, and it takes me four or five tries to work out how the harness is supposed to go. It’s not even that complicated—straps over my shoulders, and one over my pecs. I tighten it and then look at myself in the mirror.
Well, shit. I’m going to attract attention, that’s for sure.
I already put the makeup in here earlier, and while it might not be my thing usually, I’ve dabbled in eyeliner before at least. I smudge a little around the outside corners of my eyes, then swipe clear lip gloss over my lips.
That’s… cute. I think. I glance down at my feet. Should’ve stolen Maurice’s boots, but I’ve got a pair of my own that will work; they’re just not as blatantly badass. That’s fine. Neither am I.
I hesitate before I step back out into the room, but only for a second. Vlad won’t laugh at me.
He doesn’t. He’s perched on the edge of the bed in my absence, and his gaze moves over me in a way it never has before. I put one hand on my hip and cock it out to the side.
“Well? What do you think?”
His lips part, but no sound comes out. I can practically see him thinking through what he wants to say, and when he speaks, I know the words aren’t his first choice.
“You should certainly ensnare our prey.”
What does he want to say? I grin all the same because there’s a full-length mirror out here, opposite the bathroom, and fuck, I do look good.
“Thanks.” I drag my boots on and then snatch up my phone. Vlad shifts slightly on the bed when I pose in front of the mirror and take a photo.
“Why are you doing that?”
“Quinn went and did us a favour,” I say. “I should show him it worked.”
I shove the rest of the clothes aside and sit on the bed beside Vlad. I still need to work out what I’m doing with my hair, but the club won’t open for a couple of hours, and I’m sure Vlad wants to talk through a plan of attack, too.
Quinn replies quickly with a series of emojis, then asks me if he can show the photo to Sam, too. I lie back on the bed, and Vlad makes a disgruntled sound. Sure, why not? It’s not like a club full of people won’t get an eyeful tonight.
“What is your plan?” Vlad asks and I almost drop my phone right onto my face.
“My plan?”
“You are the one who will engage with the target. How do you plan to do that?”
I push up onto my elbows, then wave my left hand to encompass the entire length of me. “Uh…”
“What if that is not enough? There is no evidence that Jakob has approached anyone he was not already somehow connected to.”
Hm. Fair point. And if he’s already got a young vampire picked out for this week, I need to get them out of the way and put myself in their place, which is another complication.
“Okay,” I say, sitting up properly. “I need to… I need to see if he’s alone. If he’s looking. Not just at me, but in general. If he’s alone, I need to attract his attention.”
“Maurice said the vampire who came to Njáll had little experience interacting with Jakob himself. All he knows is that Jakob appears to be the oldest and most powerful vampire here and that he flaunts that power.”
“How many vampires are here?”
“I do not know,” Vlad says, but his voice is troubled in a way I don’t like.