13. Kieran

I watch Sam from the shadowed doorway of yet another failed high street store. He's standing in the centre of the pavement, utterly still. People throw disgruntled looks at him as they move quickly past, but he's not even close to the strangest thing they'll see today, I'm sure.

He sighs seconds later, shoulders slumping. I examine the crowds as he weaves his way through passers-by and settles into the doorway, next to me.

"Anything?"

Sam shrugs. "I can sense magic, sure, but it's difficult to pick out individual threads. I think the mage was here. Can't tell where she went."

I nod. It's been a few days since Tristan and Adelaide did their disappearing act. Well, Adelaide anyway; though I haven't seen Tristan since he attacked me and Lucien, I suspect he's still around.

Lucien. I frown at nothing. The swan is on the table next to my bed, even though I keep telling myself I should just get rid of it. He didn't make it for me.

He hasn't bothered to text, but he's waited for me every evening, even the ones where I haven't worked. When I have, he's walked me home after every shift.

I don't get him. I know the vampires want me as bait, but this doesn't feel like that.

I don't know what he's after.

Sam's scowling as intently into the distance as I am. I need to talk to him about Drew, but I haven't received another text since the first. He's read my reply, but either he doesn't want to text back, or he hasn't been able to.

Doubt gnaws at my stomach. Maybe the text never came from Drew at all? It's not like I'd be able to tell. Drew was a teenager when I left.

But to have my number…

I shake my head, snapping myself out of my thoughts before they can spiral.

"This is so annoying," Sam mutters. Frustration bleeds through into his voice. "I didn't think there were this many people with magic left in London."

I knock our shoulders together. "Well, that's got to be good news, right?"

Sam makes a noncommittal sound. "Sure," he says, but it doesn't ring true. When he pulls his phone out of his pocket, his hands are shaking.

We've been at this all morning, and I don't know if it's exhaustion or something else getting to him, but at least I can try to help. "Come on. Let's get food and regroup."

An old café squats a few doors down, the kind I'm sure will exist even after the rest of this street is gone. We order at the counter and don't speak until one of the waitresses sets cups of tea in front of each of us.

Sam's frustrated expression eases off when he takes his first sip. I snort into my own, then wince when it burns my tongue.

"Serves you right," Sam says, one eyebrow raised.

"You didn't…"

"No. You're just a big baby."

I throw a paper napkin at him. A man sits by the window, reading the paper as he sips what I think is coffee. A young woman is closer to the counter, staring down at her phone.

"So what are we going to do?"

"Aren't we supposed to leave this all to the clan?"

I shrug. I'm not supposed to be killing vampires, sure, but we're just trying to find Tristan before he comes after us again. After me. And the mage… It's not down to the clan to catch her. That's the Council's job.

"The mage complicates things," Sam says in a low voice as the woman brings over our food.

"How so?"

Sam glances around and takes a bite of toast before he speaks again. "She's powerful. I know I said that before, but I really can't emphasise it enough. I don't think the Council will have anyone stronger than her."

We've had this conversation a couple of times over the last few days. Any attempts Sam, Ophelia, and Dante have made to track the mage down have been fruitless.

"So what else can we do?" I ask.

Sam watches me warily before he eats more of his breakfast.

"We know William was the starting point," he says. I hum around a mouthful of ham and eggs. "After that, it's not clear where Tristan was finding the people he turned. But I'd bet a lot of money he was trying to draw us—or you—out."

"Looks like it," I say.

"Why not do the same?"

"What?"

"We could draw Tristan out."

Sam's gaze is intent when I look at him. I hesitate.

"How would we even manage that?"

"There's a club in neutral territory, not far from the wolves' side. They run it, but it's designed to be a place where all different creatures can mix freely."

"And…?"

"If we put you in the middle of it, Tristan might show up."

"He's not going to attack me in a club full of wolves."

"After, then? Besides, he might. The vamps aren't gonna be there. They're too busy looking for him everywhere else."

I sigh. "We've not even seen Tristan since that first night. What if he's not after me anymore?"

"If he's not, he's not." Sam shrugs. "But I can make you trackable—more trackable—for the mage. Make you look like an easy target."

"I don't know…" There are too many variables to consider. But Sam has got one point—between work and home, I'm not giving Tristan much opportunity to take a bite out of me. If the vampires want me as bait, we need to give Tristan a fighting chance.

Sam jumps on my hesitation. He can read me well enough to know he's winning me over.

"I can affect your scent," he says. "Make it stronger. Easier for Tristan to follow. He doesn't know about me, so as long as I'm not using magic while the mage is around, he should just think I'm human."

"Unless he bites you."

Sam waves a hand dismissively. "Not gonna happen. Anyway. Either he tries to grab you in the club, in which case, we'll bring the wolves down on him, or he tries to do it on the way back, and we'll take him and the mage down."

"You can handle her? What if she teleports away again?"

"She won't," Sam says, voice hard. "At the very least, I can stop her from taking Tristan, and from what you said, it sounds like she's looking out for him."

"There are at least a thousand ways this might go wrong."

"Yeah. But at the moment, all we're doing is walking you back and forth to work and just hoping Tristan gets a hint and comes to fight a chieftain."

I stare down at my plate. He's not wrong, and I can't think of another way to do this that won't look terribly obvious. If Tristan and Adelaide were watching me for a while beforehand—and they must have been, to throw all those fledglings in my path—then they know Sam and I go out every once in a while.

It'll just look like I'm getting restless. Like I want my life back.

Sam taps his fingers on the plastic top of the table. "What do you think? Want to do it?"

"Yeah, okay," I say as if my answer was going to be anything else. "We have to be careful. If anything goes wrong, we're fucked."

Sam's smile is disturbingly bright. "Yeah, I know."

I wrap a towel around my waist as I step out of the shower. Steam fills our small bathroom and I wipe it from the mirror with my hand, wrinkling my nose at the cold feel of the glass.

I can hear Sam out in the living room. He's been drawing on his tablet since we came back to the flat, and when he's not staring at the screen, he's on the phone with Ophelia and Dante, attention pulled tight between his job and his attempts to keep us safe.

He's already said he won't bring the two of them along. If there's a chance that we might put them in danger, we're not risking it.

Sighing, I examine my reflection in the mirror. Everyone who knows about supernaturals knows about the mage war, but what we know is… nebulous. My mother had some magic. I'm almost certain of that. She died when I was eight, and magic didn't help her then, but I don't think her magic was ever like Sam's, either.

I rub absently at the scar on my throat. It's a worry for another time. For now, I dry off and dress, then go back out into the living room.

Sam looks up when I appear. I've barely seen him since we left the café—I had to work at the gym this afternoon, and now I'm heading out to the shop again. I shrug on my jacket before I snatch my shoes up by the door.

"Anything?" I ask.

"Got some ideas of ways I might be able to stop the mage," he says. "And I should be able to deliver this design on time, so you know, that's great, too."

I snort. "Yeah, it is. I'll text you when I'm on the way back."

Sam waves absently, already absorbed in the screen again, and I let myself out of the flat, taking the stairs quickly down to the ground floor. A blast of cold air hits me when I exit the building. Temperatures have plummeted in the last few days.

Lucien stands by the kerb, his back to me and the door. I slow my steps, eyes greedily running the length of him as something warm sparks in my chest. He's wearing a dark jacket and trousers, but his hair is loose, almost glowing under the streetlights. I want to run my fingers through it. I want to dig my fingers into Lucien's scalp, get a fistful of hair, and tug—

I shove my hands into my pockets and clear my throat, pushing the thought violently aside. Lucien turns at the sound, acting as if he hasn't already heard the traitorous thumping of my heart.

"Good evening," he says, accent curling around the words, around me. "You are well?"

"Well enough. You?"

I step out of the protection of the wards, the familiar prickle passing over my skin before I go cold again. Lucien drops into step beside me as I start walking and though we're not looking at each other, I can feel the weight of his attention on me.

"Are you—"

"Do you—"

We both stop when we realise we're speaking over each other and I turn my face away, fighting a smile at the suddenly bashful expression on Lucien's face.

"Sorry," I mutter. "What did you wanna ask?"

He hasn't mentioned the birds again, and I haven't asked him about his origami, though I'm sure he's using it as a way to pass the time while I work. Part of me wants to, but asking him about himself gives him the right to do the same.

I don't know if I'm ready for that yet.

Lucien seems to sense my hesitation, eyeing me before he speaks. "I just—I wondered about your job."

No, he didn't. Still, I shrug. "What about it?"

"Do you enjoy it?"

We turn a corner, and we're on the street where Tristan attacked us. I haven't asked Lucien if they've caught him yet; he wouldn't be here if they had.

"The shop? It's fine, I guess. I prefer working at the gym."

"You have two jobs?" Lucien doesn't sound confused by the concept, per se. More like I'm a puzzle he's struggling to solve.

"Yeah. You know how expensive this city is? I'm a personal trainer, but it's hard to put in the hours to do that full-time—too risky."

Lucien nods, brow furrowing. "That is interesting," he says.

I laugh. "It really isn't." I fight the urge to knock our shoulders together, to touch him in whatever small way I can, though I still end up taking a step closer. If Lucien notices, he doesn't react. "Being a chieftain has to be more interesting than anything I'm doing."

"I suppose," Lucien says. "Interesting things happen—like now. Though I have not been active in my duties for some time."

"Why not?"

Lucien grimaces, and I wish I could take the words back. We're not far from the shop now, though, and as much as I'm hit by the sudden realisation that I need to be cautious around this conversation, I want to wait for Lucien's answer.

"There was an… incident," Lucien says carefully. He's still walking, but his gaze is on some spot in the middle distance like he's lost in his own thoughts. "With a hunter."

He glances at me, then away. Colour blooms on his cheeks, and he swallows hard before he speaks again.

"His name is Nathan."

I clench my jaw. "Lucien…" I want to move closer, but I don't know if that will make him skittish. I don't want that. I just want to comfort him. "You don't have to tell me what happened. If you don't want to, I mean."

Lucien nods. His lips are pressed so tightly together they're almost white. We turn the next corner and I see the shop up ahead.

"We were together," he says, as though he's forcing the words out. His cheeks go faintly pink. "But he… He was cruel."

Anger flares through me, deep and hot, but I know that's not something that will help him right now. "And he's—You're safe?" I don't know what I'll do if he's not.

Lucien's eyes widen, and he gives me a smile, faint though it is. "Perfectly," he says. "Well, aside from the current predicament we find ourselves in."

"Sure." We pause where we usually part. "What about your job? Your role in the clan?"

"Vasile was to reinstate me in the position the night Tristan and Adelaide brought you to the clan. I am to work alongside Elle for the foreseeable future, but I do not mind that. She has done an excellent job taking care of my district in my absence."

I study his face. His expression seems more even now, though I can still taste anger at the back of my throat. Why would Lucien be punished for being in a relationship with a hunter? For leaving a relationship with a hunter who—and I'm guessing, but I don't think it's a stretch—was abusive to him?

What kind of clan leader is Vasile?

I hesitate before I speak again. "Are you ready to have it back?"

"Yes," Lucien says quickly, but he shakes his head once he's spoken. "I believe so. I am not sure."

"Do you have time to figure it out?"

"Yes."

I shrug. "Think about it, then. Think about what you want. How long have you been a chieftain?"

Lucien's smile returns, and this time it reaches his eyes when he huffs a laugh and says, "Long enough."

"Maybe that's what you want to do for a while longer. Maybe you want to do something else. It's up to you, right?"

"Right." Lucien's eyes linger on my face for a beat too long. My hands itch with the urge to reach up and grab him, to pull him in.

"Whatever you do, Lucien, it'll work out. I won't pretend like I know you that well, but you seem… capable. I'm sure you'll be okay."

"What if—" Lucien cuts himself off with a shake of his head. "You should get to work."

"You should come with us Saturday night." The words are out before I can stop them, and once they're there, I can't take them back.

"What? Where?"

Shit. I bite the inside of my cheek but force myself to keep going. It's not up to Lucien to tell me what to do, and though this plan isn't foolproof, the more I've thought about it throughout the day, the more I think we might just get somewhere.

"Sam and I were planning to go… out."

"Go out? Do you sincerely believe that is a good idea right now?"

"I—" I frown. "I need to do something."

He stares at me for a moment. "You are trying to draw Tristan out."

I make a frustrated sound, and Lucien closes his eyes, massaging the bridge of his nose. "You know this is a bad idea."

"What's better? Sending you all off hunting every night?"

"How do you—"

"I'm not an idiot, Lucien. I know that's what you're doing. You wait for me to get inside and then you go out to track him down, right?"

"Yes, but—"

"You're only here because the clan wants me as bait, anyway!"

"You will be in danger."

Lucien doesn't raise his voice, not like I have, but his words cut through me all the same.

"Do you think I'm not already?"

His expression is pained. I shake my head. "We're going to Bite. Whether you like it or not. Think about whether you want to join us."

I turn on my heel before he can answer, stalking into the shop. I barely even notice Carey is on my heels until I shut my locker door.

"What?" My voice is flat, and she raises an eyebrow in reply.

"You and your boyfriend get into an argument?"

"He's not—" I growl, shoving my hands through my hair. "Yes. Fine. Whatever."

"You seem… pissed off."

I stare at her, then shake my head, turning away. She grabs my forearm and I let out a sigh.

"Come on. You know you can't go up there like that."

I let her drag me into the staff room and push me down into one of the hard plastic chairs. Our supervisor walks past the door, but Carey shoos him away, and I'm a little surprised at how easily he goes.

"What's going on?"

It's not like I can tell her. She's human. Even I know better than that.

"Sam and I were planning to go out on Saturday, and Luc—we got into an argument about it." I cringe even as I say the words. It makes Lucien sound jealous. Controlling. I know he's not like that.

Sure enough, Carey wrinkles her nose. "For real?"

"It's not… It's not like that." I sigh. "It's something else. Stupid."

"Okay…" Carey drags out the sound. "Because it kind of sounds like he's acting like a controlling dick."

"He's not." I rub my hands over my face. "He's just… worried. He's right to be."

Carey frowns. "Kieran…"

"It's nothing. We'll work it out."

She crosses her arms over her chest, and though I know she's not going to forget about it, she seems willing to drop the subject for now. "Fine. Get your game face on. Mark's gonna bitch us both out for being late."

"Yeah, I know."

"Where are you going on Saturday?"

"What?"

"Hey, dummy." She taps her forefinger on the centre of my forehead and laughs when I swipe at her hand. "Where are you going out?"

"Bite." I shake my head as I say it. "It's just me and Sam. Flatmates' night out."

"I've been there," Carey says. She shrugs, and when she steps back, I stand, following her to the door. "It's chock-a-block with hotties, you know. That's what got your not-boyfriend all worried?"

I huff a laugh. I wish that's what has Lucien all annoyed. "Yeah, I think so."

She shoots a wink at me over her shoulder and opens the door. "Try not to get in too much trouble."

Yeah. Famous last words.