Chapter Twenty-One
Grant
Iwake in Vlad’s arms and, like a day ago, to the sound of Asher’s voice. I frown and bury my face in Vlad’s chest. Getting really sick of that, honestly. Why is he here?
“Hey. How are you feeling?”
I hold on to Vlad for a second longer before I roll over. Opening my eyes brings me Quinn’s concerned expression from only a few feet away. “I’m fine,” I say on reflex, but by the way I wince halfway through the word, I don’t think he buys it.
“Where hurts?” Asher asks. Oh, he doesn’t, then.
“Everywhere.”
It’s pretty much true. I do not recommend getting hit by that much magic. We went to the beach, I remember that. Kelpies, a puca, Eirian…
Yeah, I might have the power, but I sure as shit don’t have the stamina to go up against someone like her. Live and learn, I guess.
“Can I help?” Asher asks. Even as he speaks, his blessing twists around like it doesn’t want to obey. He probably used it a lot last night.
“No, I…” The sun’s up. I can feel it. The curtains are closed, but only Maurice knows how to ward the windows against whatever about the sun kills vampires, as far as I know, and he’s not here.
I twist around and look at Vlad. I already figure he’s deeply asleep since he hasn’t woken up when I’ve been moving, but he looks pained.
There are grey smudges under his eyes and his brow furrows when I shift again.
Gingerly, I climb out of bed. Asher half-rises from his seat, like he’s going to stop me, but Quinn grabs his sleeve and tugs him back down again. I hope he’s gonna hold him in a second because I’m pretty sure he’s going to lose his shit.
I’m still wearing my shirt and shorts from the night before, and I wrinkle my nose as I cross the room.
This should work, and then I’ll be energised enough to shower and change.
Then we can come up with a new plan where I’m still bait, I guess, but where I’m less likely to get dragged off to wherever Eirian is hiding.
Asher squawks when I flick the curtains open, sunlight falling across the carpeted floor.
I’m right to trust Quinn, though—he grabs Asher’s arm and I step into the sunbeam, letting out a relieved sigh.
It feels too hot again, and I’m not sure whether that’s just because the sun’s coming through glass or because I’m not used to it or because I’m a vampire, but it doesn’t matter.
My power draws together in my centre, basking in the glow just like I am.
“Fuck me,” Asher mutters. Quinn lets out a slightly hysterical laugh.
“Warn us next time,” he says.
I don’t open my eyes. The sun feels soft on my face, heat mellowing out as I soak it all up. “Next time, sure. This time, you’d have stopped me.”
Asher is quiet for a moment. Then he asks, “Is it helping?”
“Hm?” I want to stretch out in it and nap. Sounds perfect, to be honest, except I’ll never be able to do that with Vlad and I’d rather nap next to him instead. But is the pain ebbing? I prod at all the sore spots with my mind. “Yeah, it’s helping.”
“Okay.” Asher doesn’t sound convinced, but he doesn’t argue, and after a few minutes, Quinn starts chatting to him again, telling him about something or other his packmates are planning to do.
I tune him out. For once, my mind is quiet. Oh, part of my focus is on Vlad—will always be, and has been since the moment I met him—but otherwise, I’m bobbing along in a sea of sunshine, and for a few minutes, I have no worries at all.
After a while, though, my power expands. It fizzes out along my limbs, sweeping away all the damage Eirian caused when she tried to trap it deep inside of me. I blink my eyes open, wincing at the brightness, then take a step away and let the curtain fall.
The room is too dark until my eyes adjust, and once they do, I sit on the edge of the bed.
“Better?” Quinn asks. He doesn’t have the same concern as the rest do, for all that his pack has vampires in it. Maybe he just trusts me to know best for myself. That’s nice.
“Much.” I glance at Vlad. He still hasn’t moved, and with the way my power feels now, a gentle ocean but an ocean nonetheless, I’m surprised. “What happened?”
“You remember Eirian was there?” Asher leans forward. His jacket has been cast haphazardly over the back of his chair, exposing all the tattoos on his arms. “She attacked you.”
“Yeah, she was trying to subdue my magic.”
“Magic,” Asher mouths, then shakes his head like he’s filing the word away for later. I don’t know what else to call it. The Huntsman’s blessing is the way I got all this power, of course, but he never gave it to me. It came via Vlad. And that’s how the mages work too, I think.
They have magic. So why can’t I?
“I don’t know what she did to you,” Asher says, “but Vlad pummelled her wards until they broke. I think he drew from your power to do it, and it—”
I sit up straighter when he cuts himself off. “What did it do to him?”
“I think it hurt him,” Asher says.
I swallow hard, blinking back a sudden rush of tears. My magic hurt him? I hurt him? I’d never—not intentionally—but that doesn’t matter if he’s—
“Hey,” Asher says, and he reaches out to grab my hands. I jump in surprise, but he doesn’t let go. “Hey, it’s not your fault, okay? He was tired after, but he walked himself back and clearly got changed, so he’s just resting up. It’s not even noon. He’ll be awake by sundown. I know it.”
He doesn’t know it. None of us can know it. But his grip is tight and his voice is steady, so it’s hard not to believe him, either. I look at Quinn, who nods.
“He walked all the way here,” he says. “He was talking fine and everything. He’ll be okay.”
I let out a shaky breath. “Okay. Okay.” One brush along the bond tells me they’re probably right, at least as far as I can tell, too. His death magic reaches for mine, but I draw back. I can’t hurt him again.
I won’t.
“I should—” I jerk my hands out of Asher’s grip and get to my feet, then snatch up some clothes before I scurry into the bathroom.
Asher and Quinn don’t leave, but then I don’t expect them to.
Truth be told, I don’t want them to. Being alone while Vlad won’t wake is suddenly terrifying, and if something goes wrong, Asher might know what to do.
Nothing has changed once I emerge from the shower, and I sit on the bed again, this time next to Vlad’s hip. I take one of his hands and wrap it in my own. He might not be awake, but he should feel that. He should be able to hear that I’m close by.
“Do we have a new plan?” I ask.
Asher glances at Vlad, then sighs. “We really should call in the others. Eirian is far more powerful than we anticipated.”
“You think the Huntsman knew?”
“I believe he had some idea, yes. Usually, we are told to capture, return, or kill. Just getting a name… He wanted his suspicions confirmed.”
“And now he’s gone,” Quinn says glumly.
“For now.” Asher rests his ankle on his opposite knee and reaches for Quinn’s hand. “I fear whatever has drawn him to the Otherworld is even worse news. He would not leave for so long otherwise.”
“So who can we call?” I lean over and grab my phone, which has been helpfully set on the bedside table. “Do you think Maurice is any better?”
“I am sure he is better, but not that he is well.” Asher shakes his head. “We’ll call them after we’ve spoken to Vlad tonight. Jeremiah might be a better choice, but where Maurice likely won’t bring Njáll, he will bring Paxton, and the more of us are located here, the more we have to lose.”
I put my phone back down and squeeze Vlad’s hand between my own. “So, now? What do we do now?”
“My least favourite part of the job,” Asher says with a sigh. “Now, we wait.”