《Nightlife: Covens and Clans》


 ONE

    ONE


    Magic. He detested magic. It was a dirty, sneaky thing; often cast from afar, while the would-be user lay safe and sound, far away from the actual bloodshed of battle. It was an unfair advantage that not only leveled the playing field, but often obliterated it. And in his world, there were as many different types of magic as there were users. Demon magic was distinctively different than faerie magic, which was different than elf magic (or at least the elves would have one believe it to be so, as they¡¯d been trying to distance themselves from the faerie regime for quite some time). There were angels; although they mostly kept to themselves, and as such he had the good fortune to have never encountered one. He had heard they were a sanctimonious lot, very old school and unlike demons, had no sense of humor. Smite on sight, was more their thing, although new age thinkers would have you believing they were all cherubs with harps rather than armor-wearing sword-wielding instruments of destruction.


    And then, there were the witches. While he knew there were as many types of covens practicing as many different brands of magic; he logged them all neatly together in his mind as a massive thorn in his side. Much like the little witch who was accosting him now.


    She appeared as a young twenty-something, as he was well aware that looks could be deceiving whenever magic users were involved. She had the look of an Irish lass, with pale delicate skin and a head full of thick wavy hair. She was brandishing her fists as she glared at him, a fiery redhead with a slim athletic build and a mean right hook. She was dressed ready for combat in a pair of army-green cargo pants and a fitted black camisole.


    ¡°Vile filth,¡± she spat at him, and indeed some spit did fly as she struck him again; his head snapping aside as blood and spittle spewed from his mouth. As his head lolled forward a string of red saliva dribbled from his swollen and busted lip. There was a high-pitched ringing in his ears and in his mouth, the familiar tang of blood.


    ¡°Demon spawn!¡± She slugged him again. ¡°Where is she? Where¡¯s the girl?¡±


    Flattery, Damon thought, would get her nowhere. He chuckled inwardly and even managed to crack a smile at his own joke; a feat that he immediately regretted as the act itself caused him an additional bout of pain. For a little thing, she certainly packed a punch, as a dull ache had taken up residence in his jaw, and his fractured nose throbbed painfully. He lifted his head to peer at her through the one eye that wasn¡¯t already swollen shut. It was probably good that she hadn¡¯t seen him smirk.


    ¡°Just tell us what you¡¯ve done with the girl.¡± Red was breathing heavily as she glared at him; skin damp from exertion, her green eyes blazing. He thought he might be wearing her down.


    Overhead, a lone bulb hung from a wire, its yellow light casting deep shadows across the room. Small windows set high on the outer walls had been hastily boarded up, allowing only a small glimpse of pink and orange sky. Dust danced in the mellow light that penetrated. Had he really been here that long? He¡¯d been abducted late last night; a feat (he would be sure to point out) that would never have succeeded if magic hadn¡¯t come into play. The fading light meant that he had been their guest for nearly a day now, which also meant that by now, he would surely be missed. That realization opened a whole new kettle of fish. It was bad enough that he had been swept up in this colossal waste of time, he hardly needed his family to be caught up in it as well.


    It appeared he was being held in an old cellar or storeroom. He could see only one exit; a heavy wooden door that hung on rusty hammered hinges. To the right of the door sat an ancient workbench, its top littered with rusty tools and an odd assortment of clutter. Discarded furniture, a couple of old steamer trunks and some junk-filled crates littered the area. Everywhere he looked was something old and broken and forgotten.


    From the shadows, a second figure hopped down from atop an old green dresser that was missing a pair of its drawers. They stretched lazily before making their way forward to stand at Red¡¯s side. This new figure peered at Damon with mild interest, and as she did, realization washed over him. She was a mirror image of the first; identical in all aspects from her looks to her stature. She was even dressed similarly, but entirely in black.


    Bloody hell. Twins.


    This new woman turned to her sister and placed a hand upon her shoulder. ¡°Come on, Justice. You said it would be my turn next. Can¡¯t I have a go at him?¡±


    Justice frowned. ¡°This isn¡¯t a game, Liberty. Don¡¯t treat it as such.¡±


    ¡°I would never, but you¡¯re exhausted, and this approach clearly isn¡¯t working.¡± Glancing at him, she pulled her sister aside, and in heated whispers they began to argue. He could hear them if he focused, but their words were meaningless, and his time was better served by trying to break free while they were distracted.


    The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    There were a few support-columns scattered across the room and between a pair of these, a makeshift wall had been erected. It was here that he was bound, arms outstretched as heavy iron spikes had been hammered through the back of his hands and deep into the timber behind. To further restrict his movements, a leather strap encircled his neck. Dried blood stains on the cement below told him that he wasn¡¯t the first to use these accommodations.


    He tried to free his hands and winced, as pain jolted from his palms. They had doubled down with magic of course; a mobility spell, that had seized his limbs in a strange rigor mortis. But that spell had been cast hours ago and seemed to be wearing off, as he was now able to wiggle his toes. Gnashing his teeth against the pain, he tried once more to pry his hands free. Blood dripped anew, making his hands itch as it trickled down, but the effort was futile. With his arms outstretched and palms facing down, he simply had no leverage in which to free himself.


    ¡°Here, let me help you with that.¡± Liberty swung at the spike in his hand with a large mallet, missing entirely and striking his outstretched fingers instead.


    Black spots danced before his eyes as an explosion of pain erupted in the pit of his stomach. A moan escaped his lips. His knees crumpled beneath him, and he slumped forward; only to be held upright by the leather strap at his throat. He choked against the noose as it strangled, and finding his legs, forced himself upright as his mangled fingers began to throb. Yep. That mobility spell was definitely wearing off.


    ¡°Was that really necessary?¡± Justice asked. She sounded exhausted.


    Libby shrugged. ¡°He was trying to escape¡ªthought we weren¡¯t watching. He needed to be reminded who¡¯s in charge. Besides, he doesn¡¯t need his hands to speak. In fact, there are a lot of bones here that have nothing to do with speech.¡± She dropped the hammer and stood to face him. Reaching out, she took hold of his bloodied dress-shirt and pulled at the fabric. He felt the buttons pop, one after the next, until his shirt hung open and his chest was exposed. She gazed at him appreciatively as she spoke. ¡°Lots of fleshy places too.¡±


    Damon scowled, as she looked him over. He would kill her. Wring her pretty, little, neck. It had been a lifetime since he¡¯d last murdered, maimed, or tortured; but for this one, he would happily make an exception.


    Libby sighed. ¡°Such a shame, he really is quite handsome.¡±


    Oh, Bloody hell!


    ¡°And that, dear sister is precisely why you don¡¯t get a turn.¡±


    Libby laughed, sounding snarky. ¡°Oh, come now.¡± She smirked at her twin. ¡°Are you suggesting you don''t find him attractive, cause I happen to know we have the same taste in men, and this one, is the entire package; tall, dark and those eyes¡ª


    ¡°That¡¯s hardly the point,¡± Justice stammered. ¡°The difference, is that I can stay objective.¡±


    Liberty snorted and turned her attention back to Damon. ¡°Where¡¯s the fun in that?¡± Taking a step closer, she grasped hold of his chin, examining his face. He struggled against her, but the bitch held strong, and their eyes locked. ¡°You¡¯re like a venomous spider, with a pretty, sparkly web. I wish there was some way to mark you, to show people what you really are.¡± She sighed as she released him. ¡°But no brand or mark will work. Not when you¡¯re able to heal as you do.¡± A wistful smile lit her lips. ¡°Perhaps, I¡¯ll still try.¡±


    ¡°Whuh¡ª¡± Damon choked as he tried to speak. His throat was dry, and a coughing fit ensued. It shook through him, jarring his battered body, an earthquake of pain.


    Liberty glanced at her sister. ¡°Did we forget to unbind his tongue?¡±


    Justice shook her head. She had caught her breath, but still looked drained. ¡°I¡¯ll go get him some water.¡±


    She disappeared through the heavy door and Damon heard soft footfalls from the room beyond. They sounded hollow, like steps on a flight of wooden stairs. She returned only a few moments later with a bottle of water. Her hand trembled as she passed it to her sister.


    ¡°Are you okay?¡± Libby asked as she took the bottle, the playful tone had left her voice.


    ¡°I think I should take that break after all.¡±


    Liberty nodded her agreement. ¡°Good idea. You rest up, while I keep an eye on our guest.¡±


    She waited for Justice to depart before picking up an old wooden crate and dumping its contents upon the floor. Turning it on its end, she dragged it over to a spot directly in front of Damon before taking a seat upon it. Cracking open the bottle of water, she took a sip.


    ¡°Just between you and me,¡± she admitted as she looked him over. ¡°I¡¯m not convinced that you¡¯re the one. Well, not the one we¡¯ve been looking for, anyways.¡± She shrugged. ¡°Whether you¡¯re responsible for this new girl that¡¯s gone missing¡ªI suppose that¡¯s entirely possible. You are what you are, after all.¡±


    Getting up, she crossed the room to the workbench, where she began rifling through the contents strewn across its top. She fished up a shallow metal box; its rusted surface covered in dents. Opening its hinged lid, she dumped its contents with the rest of the clutter on the tabletop. ¡°This should do,¡± she said, as she crossed the room to the old green dresser. There she retrieved a worn leather bag. Carrying both items, she crossed back to her overturned crate, once more taking a seat upon it. Digging within the depths of the bag, she smiled and came out with her hand clasped tightly around something.


    ¡°Do you know what these are?¡± She opened her hand to show him.


    He saw what looked like a few small pebbles. They varied in size; some were as big as marbles, while others were smaller than raisins. Each was perfectly smooth and milky in colour and flecked with veins of red or yellow or gold.


    ¡°These are phoenix stones.¡± They clanked dully as she dropped them into the tiny box. ¡°They¡¯re what remain after the bird moults. It¡¯s true that most everything goes up in flame as it¡¯s reborn, everything except these little guys. Not even the phoenix fire can destroy them. They¡¯re useful in spell casting because they allow a small, controlled fire to generate extraordinary heat.¡± She brought the tin to her face. Incendia,¡± she whispered, and was instantly awarded with a magical blue flame.


    Carefully she set the tin on the floor a few feet away. From her hip, she produced a hunting knife; one edge was honed and smooth, while the other held an ugly jagged ridge. She set the tip of the blade into the flames. ¡°And now we wait.¡± She was smiling at him, her eyes lit with delight. ¡°When the blade turns orange¡ªthe fun begins.¡±

 TWO

    TWO


    One week earlier¡­


    The little red convertible, top down raced haphazardly across the expressway. The driver, a woman in her twenties, her long dark hair tied back in a kerchief, was playing with the satellite radio when she nearly sideswiped the minivan in the accompanying lane. The driver of the vehicle honked in annoyance at her.


    ¡°Oh, yeah?¡± Molly turned in her seat to flip the driver off. Her scarlet lips, painted the same red hue of her scarf, were upturned in a snarl. ¡°Well, right back atcha baby!¡±


    Teresa was sitting calmly in the passenger seat beside her. ¡°You do realize you nearly hit him.¡± She was slim and dark-skinned, her hair a series of short springy ringlets. She had dark almond-shaped eyes that were expertly lined with mascara and full lips which unlike Molly¡¯s scarlet ones, held only a hint of colour.


    ¡°Don¡¯t you start.¡± She was already in a particularly foul mood and had no qualms about letting it be known. Because Teresa was a friend, she felt it only fair to give her a warning. ¡°It¡¯s bad enough I¡¯m already playing chauffeur to Jess, but now I have to pick up Damon as well?¡±


    ¡°Yeah. I heard that. I guess his baby¡¯s in the shop. He¡¯s having it serviced, or detailed or some such nonsense.¡± She gave Molly a knowing glance. ¡°You know, men.¡±


    She did know, but it didn¡¯t improve her mood. ¡°Well, he should have called a service. God knows he can afford one.¡±


    ¡°You know he likes to keep things low-key.¡± Teresa nudged Molly playfully. ¡°Besides we were already heading there.¡±


    ¡°Whatever.¡± Molly mumbled, but she managed a smile. Teresa had that effect on her. She was a close friend, and although she¡¯d never admit it, she found herself a bit enamoured by her. Teresa was older than her, and with age came sophistication. Not only was she beautiful, smart and sexy; she was also fierce, yet soft-spoken and, basically¡­ everything that Molly was not.


    ¡°That¡¯s our exit.¡± Teresa warned, shaking Molly from her reverie before she missed their lane change and caused another near collision.


    She swerved to the off-ramp taking it much too quickly and screeched to a stop at the red light below. Two stoplights and a side-street later they were parked out front of a modern apartment building, waiting.


    After only a few minutes, she found herself drumming her scarlet nails against the steering wheel. ¡°Where is she? Why can¡¯t she ever be on time?¡±


    Teresa, who¡¯d been checking her make-up in the mirror, glanced past her own reflection. ¡°Relax. Here she comes now.¡±


    Molly turned as a petite blond climbed into the back seat. She wore her hair in a chin-length bob, the sides of which she had tucked behind her ears. She had green eyes which seemed to sparkle as she greeted them, and a slim framed body. In essence she was a polar opposite of herself.


    ¡°What took so long?¡±


    ¡°You can¡¯t rush perfection.¡± Jess said with a playful smile.


    Molly snorted. ¡°Like you¡¯d know anything about that.¡± She couldn¡¯t help herself. Jess always brought out the beast in her.


    Teresa flashed her a dirty look before immediately coming to Jess¡¯s defence. ¡°Well, I happen to think you look quite cute tonight.¡±


    ¡°Thanks.¡± Jess beamed. She did look nice, although Molly would never admit to that. Jess was wearing what looked like a white tennis-style skirt, a beaded cami and matching half-jacket. The outfit was sporty and fun and showed off her athletic physique.


    She remained silent as she drove back towards the expressway and the on-ramp. A few miles later, she exited again to an older part of the city known as Kings Core.


    The core was Kingsford¡¯s original downtown before the development of the waterfront decades later. The buildings here were of beautiful Victorian architecture and housed the original city blocks. The streets were tree-lined, narrow and beautifully cobble-stoned and the residents who lived in this exclusive part of town did their best to preserve the city¡¯s historical landscape. Apartments and brownstones were rarely leased and instead kept within families for generations. When an apartment or home did become available, it came at a hefty price. Only the very well-to-do could acquire a residence in Kings Core.


    Molly pulled up in front of a six-story Victorian apartment complex on the corner of Becket Street and Primrose Lane. It had rained earlier, and the cobblestone street was wet, and puddle ridden. The light from her blinker reflected off the puddles as she waited patiently for Damon to arrive.


    ¡°Maybe we should pull around to the lane-way?¡± Teresa suggested after a few minutes had passed. The alley which ran behind the building at 42 Primrose Lane was accessible from Becket Street and seemed to be Damon¡¯s preferred entrance.


    Molly shook her head, as she pulled out her cell phone to call him. ¡°He said he would meet us out front.¡±


    ¡°And so, I did,¡± Damon leaned in and gave Molly a quick peck on the cheek before climbing into the backseat beside Jess. ¡°Evening, ladies.¡±


    Molly had entirely missed his approach. ¡°Hey! How¡¯d you¡ªI mean, where did you¡ª?¡±


    ¡°Just admit it,¡± Damon said smugly. ¡°I have mad ninja skills.¡±


    Molly frowned in the mirror at him, as he leaned back into the upholstery, threw his feet up on the seat in front of him and casually slipped his arm around Jess, who blushed as he pulled her in close.


    Molly felt an instant pang of jealousy as Jess snuggled into him. Jess had it bad for Damon, and it was easy to understand why. He was the traditional tall dark and handsome; six-foot-tall, with a lean, athletic build. His hair was dark and cropped short, his eyes hidden behind dark lashes were an ever-so-sexy green. He was quiet and confident and when he gazed at you with those sharp green eyes, one felt like he was looking not at you, but into you; where even the most private of thoughts, most intimate of desires were his for the viewing.


    Molly caught Jess¡¯s eye in the mirror and glared at her. She watched as the warm smile slip from her face and an uncomfortable air take hold of her. So abrupt was her change in body language that Damon who had been speaking quietly in her ear, suddenly looked up and almost caught her disapproving gaze. Molly quickly averted her eyes as she abruptly threw the car into gear and headed up the street at a faster than necessary speed.


    *


    Kingsford had a Queens College, located in a district of the city known as the Queens Court. Vibrant and picturesque, with its turn-of -the-century architecture, and quaint parkland, the court was a popular and well-established area of the city. It housed many amenities alongside the College, including: a library, an arena, a public pool and a rec-centre, and such amenities were as popular with the students as they were with the citizens.


    Historically the area had once been penitentiary farmland, but after the prison was relocated in the early 1800¡¯s, the college had later been established, using much of the original buildings in its construction. The surrounding land was redeveloped, and now housed beautiful stately homes, many of which had been adapted and divided into apartments or boarding rooms to accommodate the many students that attended the college.


    First years however were more inclined to stay on campus, and the institution encouraged them to do so. The college itself housed several dormitories; including male, female and even co-ed buildings. Additional residents had been established for families, where student couples could live together and still attend classes with full use of the on-campus daycare.


    In Downie Hall, one such co-ed dorm, Allison Greer was sitting at her desk, laptop open. She was having trouble concentrating, as she slowly re-read the paragraph she had previously typed, for what seemed like the thirtieth time, when her cell phone vibrated loudly on the desktop beside her. Even with the ringer off, it was still loud enough to make her jump. She glanced at the caller I.D. before tapping DECLINE and turning back to her essay when a sudden knock at the door, left her squirming uneasily in her chair. She would be hard pressed to ignore the knock as easily as she had avoided the call and was not at all surprised to hear the familiar voice that called out to her afterwards.


    ¡°Come on, Allie. I know you¡¯re in there. You can¡¯t hide in your dorm room forever.¡± When there was no immediate response, the female voice continued. ¡°It¡¯s been two weeks now. Eventually you will bump into Ethan. It¡¯s inevitable. You can¡¯t let one bad relationship ruin the rest of your year.¡±


    Allison jumped from her chair, dark hair swinging as she crossed the small room. She turned the lock and opened the door, not without some annoyance.


    ¡°Who says I¡¯m hiding? And must you broadcast my shit to the entire floor?¡± She glared at the petite blond standing there. She was slim and attractive, with shoulder length hair and clear blue eyes.


    ¡°So, you are here.¡± Without waiting for an invitation, Faith Harris crossed the threshold and dropped down on her roommate¡¯s bed. Faith frowned as she looked Allie up and down.


    Immediately Allison felt self-conscious of her frumpy attire. She¡¯d spent the day studying and had done nothing more than put her hair up in a ponytail and throw on yoga pants, and an oversized sweatshirt that once belonged to Ethan.


    ¡°Get changed.¡± Faith ordered. ¡°We are going out for the night.¡±


    Faith looked dressed to go clubbing, in a modern flapper dress in hues of metallic blue, silver and black. It had delicate spaghetti straps, a beaded bodice and a flirty fringed skirt. She had paired the dress with a pair of strappy beaded heals. Allie admired the outfit, with a hint of jealousy. There was no way that she could ever pull off a look like that. Faith had her own unique sense of style, and always managed to look amazing. Tonight¡¯s look was no different; the blue of the dress complimented the colour of her eyes.


    ¡°I can¡¯t.¡± She replied, returning to her desk. ¡°I have to study. I have a paper due.¡±


    ¡°So, finish it tomorrow or Sunday, because tonight we are going out. I¡¯m not taking no for an answer.¡±


    Allie sighed. When Faith got that tone in her voice, there was really no point in arguing. Faith was stubborn and headstrong and would have her way no matter what Allie said. She felt herself caving. ¡°Fine, we¡¯ll go out. Just as long as it¡¯s not the campus bar.¡±


    ¡°Great.¡± Faith jumped from the bed and immediately began picking her way through Allie¡¯s small closet. She began tossing articles of clothing upon the bed. ¡°I know just the place. There¡¯s this club in the old part of town, I¡¯ve been dying to take you there. It has this dark, underground following, so I doubt anyone from school will be there.¡±


    Allie was staring at the pile of clothes on the bed. There appeared to be several options available to her. ¡°So, what should I wear?¡± She asked picking up a black baby-doll dress with spaghetti straps and flirty off the shoulder sleeves. Paired with knee-high boots she thought it might be acceptable.


    Faith smiled at her. ¡°That¡¯s the great thing. There¡ªpretty much anything goes.¡±


    *


    The Pitt was an old factory turned nightclub. The building itself was made of red brick, with large arch-shaped windows running along both sides. It sat near the corner of River Road and Bridge Street a few yards in from the street. The main doors of the building; double wide and with heavy brass handles, was set into the corner of the building. To the right, a dark lane-way ran down to the back of the building, where deliveries were made. A heavy chain strung between two metal poles limited access: keeping the driveway for private use only.


    Customer parking for the Pitt was to the opposite side of the factory in an old semi-paved lot. The lot itself was backed against the river, where a large cement wall, dilapidated in places and as old as the factory itself, stood to divide the drop to the bank from the parking lot and any potential night club participants.


    ¡°Wow.¡± Allie said and none too convincingly, as their cab pulled up in front of the nightclub. ¡°I know you said underground, but I was hardly expecting dungeon.¡±


    Faith rolled her eyes, as she opened the door and hopped out before reaching back in to drag the hesitant Allie out with her. ¡°I know this isn¡¯t the powder-puff stuff you¡¯re used to, but I promise you, we won¡¯t be running into anyone from school here.¡±


    ¡°You can say that again,¡± Allie admonished as she glanced at the would-be party goers that were lined up in front of the club awaiting entry. Small groups of cookie-cutter cliques stood making up most of the Pitt¡¯s potential clientele; all of whom seemed to be as curious about Allie as she was about them. She spied everything from classic punk and emo, to grunge, Goth and even the impossibly cute geek chic. Then there were the really strange ones¡ªthe ones that looked a whole lot like Faith and herself. What seemed to be missing however was the jock and cheerleader type which typically made up the club scene at the campus bar.


    ¡°I may have to thank you for this yet.¡± Allie said as an excited smile broke out across her face. Perhaps an Ethan-free evening was exactly what she needed after all.


    The wait in line was much shorter than expected. She passed her time between chatting with Faith and exchanging glances with a sexy blue-haired boy with several piercings, whom she thought might be moderately interested in her as well. She was just working up the nerve to speak with him, when the boy standing ahead of him, suddenly leaned back and kissed him square on the lips. Allie giggled nervously, as Faith poked fun at her, realizing she had narrowly escaped a potentially embarrassing situation. The boy with the blue hair glanced back at her blushing face and graciously winked at her.


    ¡°I told you anything goes here,¡± Faith whispered as the line moved forward, and the doorman finally ushered she, Faith and the boys ahead of them into the nightclub.


    Beyond the outer doors was a small vestibule and a second set of heavy ornate doors. Above the entryway, in an elaborate and elegant script was a small poem of sorts. It read:


    Blood and Moon, Fire and Light; Abandon thy grievances on this night. Leave thy ire at the door; As neutral reigns, upon this floor.


    Allie paused a moment to reflect on the strange little verse. From the corner of her eye, she caught Faith watching her knowingly.


    ¡°What does it mean?¡± She asked as Faith continued to stare.


    ¡°What does what mean?¡±


    Allie rolled her eyes. She hated it when Faith played these head games of hers. Perhaps Faith thought she was being mysterious, but in reality, it was really just annoying. ¡°The poem of course.¡±


    ¡°You can see it?¡± Faith asked quietly.


    ¡°Of course, I can see it.¡± Allie answered annoyed as she looked back up at the lettering above the door. It was hard to miss as it seemed to be glowing eerily with a strange bluish light. She wondered what they had stenciled it with¡ªsome sort of iridescent paint no doubt.


    Faith opened one of the heavy wood doors and held it, ushering her inside. ¡°Not everyone can see it,¡± she whispered as Allie passed by. ¡°I knew I was right about you. You are special.¡±


    Allie wanted to question Faith further, but as she crossed the threshold, a strange tingling sensation coursed through her body. It was not entirely pleasant, nor was it definitively unpleasant but it caused Allie to gasp aloud just the same. If she had to describe it to someone, she might say it felt like a jolt of electricity had just passed through her but without any corresponding feelings of pain.


    ¡°What was that?¡± she gasped as Faith took her place by her side.


    ¡°That just further proves it, if you felt the ward.¡±


    ¡°The ward? I don¡¯t understand.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a spell. A protective barrier. It negates the power of all magical beings¡ªputs everybody who comes here on common ground, so to speak.¡±


    ¡°Oh. I see.¡± Allie replied. She didn¡¯t. Not really. But wasn¡¯t ready to enter into another one of Faith¡¯s strange conversations. In truth, Allie was never quite sure how to take her friend when these moments arose. Sometimes she said such fantastical things that she thought Faith must surely be joking, only to catch her eyes and realize that she was being entirely serious. And now here they were again with this talk of ¡°magical beings¡± and poems that only they could see.


    Faith was staring at her quizzically with unmasked doubt in her eyes. ¡°You don¡¯t see¡ªnot yet.¡± she said. ¡°But soon you will. Of that, I¡¯m sure.¡± She smiled suddenly and reached out to grab Allie¡¯s hand. ¡°C¡¯mon. Let¡¯s get a drink and hit the dance floor.¡±


    Inside, the Pitt proved to not disappoint. It was part industrial nightmare with a slight hint of steampunk. Its high unfinished ceiling displayed decade¡¯s old plumbing amidst metal girders and beams. Oversized fans made of copper, wood and brass with imitation gas lighting, extended down from the ceiling on long poles. Turning lazily, they helped to gently circulate air throughout the massive room. To the left of the room, a long bar ran along the far wall. It was made of dark polished wood accented with rich brass fixtures. High bar stools, again in wood with faux leather seats and finished with decorative brass tacks, lined the front of the bar. On the opposite side of the room, along the high arched windows; large U-shaped booths in the same dark wood and faux leather finish, lined the walls. More imitation gas lamps hung against the walls at intervals giving off a comforting yellow light.


    ¡°What¡¯s over there?¡± Allie immediately inquired, pointing towards the back of the room where there was what looked like a wide-open hole in the center of the floor. She moved immediately towards it as Faith, their hands still linked, followed. It was indeed a large rectangular cut-out surrounded by a heavy iron railing which offered an overhead view of the dance floor below.


    Faith smiled. ¡°That¡¯s the Pitt.¡±


    Allie seemed transfixed as she gazed down at the partygoers below. ¡°How do we get down there?¡± It was darker below and it certainly had her curiosity piqued.


    ¡°There¡¯s stairs in the back.¡± Faith pointed to the wall on the other side of the open floor. ¡°But let¡¯s get a drink first.¡±


    Allie found herself being led back towards the far end of the bar where they squeezed into a small opening Faith had spotted amongst the crowd of thirsty patrons. Unintentionally she bumped into the young man seated on the bar-stool next to them. He glanced at her carefully as she leaned over the empty stool beside his. He was handsome, fair-haired and blue-eyed, perhaps only a couple years older than she was. He was dressed casually in blue-jeans and a short sleeve buttoned shirt, which he wore open over a fitted tank top. Around his neck on a woven leather cord, he wore what looked like a dark metal shark tooth. A pair of thin, similarly woven bracelets encircled his right wrist.


    ¡°This seat¡¯s reserved,¡± he cautioned the girls.


    ¡°No worries,¡± Faith pointed out. ¡°We¡¯re just here for drinks.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m Nathan,¡± he said above the din and extended his hand as Allie continued to stare.


    He had a cute, carefree, surfer-boy look, which she found quite attractive. ¡°I¡¯m Allie,¡± she said as she graciously took his hand. ¡°And this is Faith.¡±


    He nodded towards Faith as Allie relinquished his digits. They returned forthwith to the near-empty bottle of beer in which he had been nursing. ¡°First time to the Pitt?¡± he asked as he began playing with his bottle, tipping it on the edge of its bottom and rolling it slowly in circles as he spoke.


    ¡°That obvious is it?¡± She asked with a smile.


    ¡°Nah, it¡¯s just that this is my usual haunt, so you get to know the regulars.¡± He glanced around the bar for a moment as if looking for something.


    ¡°Nate. What can I get you?¡± The bartender, a well-muscled black man with a shaved head and neat close-cropped beard, called out to him from behind the bar. His voice held the hint of an accent that Allie couldn¡¯t immediately place, but definitely added a depth of sexiness to his already deep and sensual voice.


    ¡°Ladies first, I guess.¡± Nathan said politely as he indicated towards the girls. ¡°Ryan, this is Allie and Faith.¡±


    The large man immediately extended his hand to each of the girls, his face breaking open in a gracious smile. ¡°Welcome to the Pitt. Now what¡¯s your poison?¡± Ryan took the girl¡¯s order before turning back to Nate. ¡°Another beer?¡±


    Nate quietly held up two fingers, to which Ryan nodded before turning to mix their drinks.


    ¡°Thanks for that,¡± Allie said as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. ¡°It was so crowded I didn¡¯t think we¡¯d ever get to order.¡± She smiled brightly. He¡¯s cute. Damn cute in fact. She wanted to keep his attention, but he was once more glancing preoccupied around the room. ¡°So, you must live around here then?¡± she asked, and he finally returned his gaze to her.


    ¡°Huh?¡±


    ¡°I mean, if this is your usual haunt.¡±


    Stolen story; please report.


    ¡°Ah, no. Not really. I just know the owner.¡±


    Ryan returned with the drinks then; double vodka with cranberry juice for the ladies and a pair of beers which he sat down in front of Nate.


    Faith, who had been talking the ear off someone she knew, quickly threw down some cash to cover both their drinks, before grabbing hold of Allie¡¯s arm as she attempted to drag her away.


    Allie hesitated and called out in a last-ditch effort to Nathan.


    ¡°Do you wanna come dance?¡± she asked hopefully.


    Nathan gave her an apologetic smile. ¡°I don¡¯t dance.¡± But perhaps seeing the look of disappointment on her face, added quickly, ¡°But he does.¡±


    ¡°Does what?¡±


    A deep voice inquired from directly behind her, and Allie turned to see a dark-haired man standing over her. He was tall, at least 6¡¯4¡¯¡¯ she guessed, with a muscular build that was larger than Nathans. His skin was pale, and his eyes though blue like Nate¡¯s, were of a slightly deeper hue. His hair too was tousled and unkempt, cropped shorter in the back but long enough in front that if not swept aside, would fall easily into his eyes. Most impressive however, was his smile which was easy going and proved to light up his entire face.


    ¡°Dance¡± Nate said as he handed him one of the bottles of beer.


    ¡°That I do.¡± He replied as he took up the beer. He was grinning at Allie cockily, and his right cheek she realized, was dimpled as well. ¡°Do you want to? Dance, that is?¡±


    Allie felt her cheeks growing hot under his gaze. He too was handsome, but unlike Nathan, he seemed to realize the effect he had on the opposite sex.


    ¡°Aren¡¯t you going to introduce yourself first?¡± Nathan inquired from the sidelines. He had turned away from the both of them and was now busying himself by peeling the label off his bottle of beer.


    Allie glanced at him curiously, as his dark-haired companion turned towards Nathan and leaned gently over him. ¡°Why don¡¯t you do the honours, Nate? Since you¡¯re so inclined to play the gentleman this evening.¡±


    Nate who¡¯d been slouched over the bar, straightened up. Undaunted by his companion¡¯s attempts at teasing him, he turned to introduce the two with a sweeping gesture of his hand. ¡°Nick, this beautiful young thing is Allie. And Allie, this trollish unmannered brute, I¡¯m sorry to say, is my friend Nick.¡±


    ¡°Trollish? That¡¯s a little harsh, don¡¯tcha think?¡± Nick said as he lovingly wrapped a strong arm around Nate¡¯s neck, catching him in a headlock as he gently tousled his friend¡¯s hair.


    ¡°I think it suits you perfectly.¡± An unfamiliar voice called out.


    Nick quickly relinquished his hold on Nate, as both men turned towards the dark-haired woman who was now standing behind them. She was a dangerous beauty, with a voluptuous figure and long dark tresses that fell halfway down her back.


    ¡°Evening, Molly.¡± Nick said, the carefree expression leaving his face. ¡°Who let you out of your cage?¡±


    Molly smirked at him unpleasantly, her scarlet lips an almost snarl. ¡°I suppose I could ask the same of you?¡± She turned her disapproving gaze to Allie. ¡°Who¡¯s this?¡±


    Allie politely offered her hand, only to have it abruptly snatched up by Nick.


    ¡°We were just leaving.¡± He turned quickly, pulling a startled Allie along with him. She barely had time to grab hold of her drink before she found herself being led towards the back of the bar. Faith she realized, had departed some time earlier.


    Nick led her across the crowded room through a series of tall circular tables at which people sat drinking on similarly high-backed chairs, until they reached the worn metal stairs which descended into the Pitt. Carefully he placed a hand around her shoulders as they descended together. Half-way down, there was a landing, where the stairs abruptly turned and continued downward in the same direction from which they had come. A second set of stairs, Allie realized rose in a similar fashion on the opposite side. When they finally reached bottom, they came out at the side of a small raised stage.


    Here in the Pitt, the lighting was darker than the bar overhead with most of its illumination coming from the cut-out in the floor above. She clung carefully to Nick as he made his way through the crowd of patrons. Her eyes had still not properly adjusted to the light, and she was glad to have Nick leading her, as he seemed to have no problem maneuvering through the darkened room.


    He led her to the wall, where a foot-wide ledge ran along its entire length, stopping only when it reached a small shot-bar near the corner. A large, heavily muscled black man stood neatly dressed, arms crossed as he carefully surveyed the room. The bouncer acknowledged Nick curtly as they approached, and quickly offered his hand in greeting. Nick set his drink down upon the ledge, before taking up the hand that was offered and leaning in to have quick words with him.


    While they conversed, Allie scanned the lower level of the bar¡ªher eyes having adjusted to the dim. On the stage, a D.J. was set up, a young Asian girl with a punk flair, who hardly looked old enough to be there. She was wearing a pair of cargo pants and a fitted tank top, her short dark hair held back with a series of colourful barrettes. Behind the D.J., and set into the wall behind the stage, a large industrial size fan turned lazily. Its enormous size added to the bar¡¯s steampunk vibe, while its functionality proved to keep the patrons on the dance floor comfortably cool.


    The walls running the length of the basement had large arches recessed into the brick, much like the windows above, giving the illusion of tunnels leading off into darkness. Small tables lined the walls among these recesses.


    Allie quickly located Faith on the dance floor, her arms draped loosely around the neck of a young man as they kept time to the music. She waved as she caught Faith¡¯s eye, before she felt Nick trying to take her drink from her hand. She frowned at him questioningly.


    ¡°No glass on the dance floor,¡± he reminded her.


    Allie held fast to her drink, taking another quick mouthful before finally relinquishing it to him. He placed it on the shelf beside his beer and under the watchful eyes of the bouncer.


    Nick graciously offered Allie his arm. ¡°My lady.¡±


    With a smile, Allie took up his hand and allowed Nick to lead her to the dance floor. When they reached an open spot near the centre, he turned abruptly and yanked her forward against him, slipping his arms around her as he did.


    A small squeal of shocked surprise escaped her lips at his sudden gesture, and she found herself giggling nervously as he held her close. A rush of unexpected excitement had tickled through her, and Allie was thankful that it was a slow song playing, so that she could lean into him and hide her blushing face. It felt good to be in his arms. The heat from his body was electric.


    *


    They were sitting at their usual booth, drinking cocktails and trash talking the other patrons in the bar, a ritual which usually delighted Molly and that razor-sharp tongue of hers. Tonight however, Molly found no joy in their little game¡ªinstead, she kept glancing across the bar at Nate with a scowl upon her face.


    ¡°You know, this fixation you have with Nathan has really got to stop.¡± Teresa exchanged a knowing look with Jess, who wisely dropped her eyes and said nothing.


    Molly turned her gaze towards Teresa, before taking a sip of her drink, but didn¡¯t answer. There had been a girl. A cute little thing in a flirty little dress and she¡¯d been lingering far too long beside Nathan. Worse still, Nathan had not only allowed her to stay by the barstool which he safeguarded specifically for Nick, but had also engaged her in conversation by his own volition. An anger deep in the pit of her stomach began to burn at the thought that Nate might actually like this bit of fluff.


    Nick¡¯s eventual arrival did little to dissuade the harlot, who seemed intent on continuing to engage with them; their twosome effortlessly becoming a threesome. The more the three of them engaged, the worse the burn became, until Molly could no longer contain the jealous beast that rose up to devour her heart. She left the table and marched towards them, undaunted by the disapproving looks on her friends faces, to confront this outsider who was making such a spectacle of herself.


    Nick was manhandling Nathan when she arrived at the bar. He had established a bromance with Nate that Molly was truly envious of, so she took her anger out on him whenever the chance presented itself. She interrupted their boyish bonding session, and she and Nick quickly exchanged their customary insults for one another, before she turned her gaze to the new girl¡ªwho was even more attractive than Molly initially feared. She was exactly the type the two of them would go for¡ªsweet, innocent and naive. She had beautiful hazel brown eyes, and smooth chestnut hair that was warm and almost aglow under the lamps above the bar. Her dress, while not form-fitting, was delicate and very feminine. It¡¯s off the shoulder sleeves exposed her collarbone and toned shoulders, and her knee-high biker boots gave her outfit the perfect bit of edge. Her make-up was simple; neutral tones complemented her dark eyes, and a shimmer of barely-there gloss highlighted her lips.


    Molly felt her jaw clench as she looked at her. ¡°Who¡¯s this?¡± she demanded, not even attempting to hide her contempt. Instead of getting her answer, Nick stepped forward and took the girl by the hand, shielding her from Molly altogether. In an instant they were gone, but not before he had given her a warning look. She hated the challenge in his gaze, the way he made her feel insignificant and small. She felt almost foolish standing there as he walked off, taking the object of her fury with him as he left.


    Having been denied her confrontation with the flirt, she turned instead towards Nathan, but he had already returned to the bar, ignoring her completely. Her anger immediately began to diminish as she looked at him. He looked exceptionally handsome tonight. The clothes he was wearing looked crisp and new, his hair freshly washed. It was light and fluffy, the ends curling up in the back the way he always hated, but she adored. He smelt clean and slightly spicy, a mixture of shampoo, and aftershave. Even now, after how badly he had hurt her, she still found him irresistible.


    Sliding up to the bar, she decided to flag down Ryan, as if getting a round of drinks was foremost on her mind, that her sudden arrival had nothing to do with the handsome man to her left. Nate was doing his best to not look at her, and when Ryan finally did arrive, she was relieved to have the distraction. She ordered some cocktails and while she waited, worked up the courage to speak with him.


    ¡°You¡¯re looking sharp this evening,¡± She said to him cordially while deliberately not meeting his eye. Instead she looked straight ahead, at their reflection in the mirror behind the bar.


    Nathan sighed. ¡°What do you want, Molly?¡±


    She turned to him with a hopeful smile on her lips. ¡°Well, it looks like Nick has once more been swept off his feet. Since you¡¯ve lost your drinking buddy, why don¡¯t you come join us.¡±


    ¡°Pass,¡±


    ¡°You¡¯d rather sit here all alone?¡± She decided not to give him a chance to answer. ¡°You know, we were good together once, and maybe, if you could just let go of your anger, if you could find a way to forgive me, we could be again.¡±


    ¡°You want forgiveness?¡±


    His voice was dangerously soft, contemplative even, and Molly misread his tone in her desperation. She wanted nothing more than to be accepted by him once again. ¡°What I want,¡± she said, slipping a hand down to gently squeeze his thigh, ¡°more than anything, is you. Just you.¡±


    Nate seized the hand that was slowly creeping up his leg. ¡°You must be bat-shit crazy, if you think that would ever happen. The only thing I want from you is to be left alone.¡±


    Molly¡¯s temper flared and she leaned in to confront him, whispering hotly in his ear. ¡°Are you so sure about that Nate? Cause a lifetime of loneliness isn¡¯t something that I¡¯d recommend¡ªand I promise, that if I can¡¯t have you, I sure as hell won¡¯t let anyone else.¡±


    *


    Allie was breathless and glowing with sweat. Nathan had been right when he said that Nick liked to dance, and it was at the end of the next song that she leaned in and suggested they sit and have a break. Once more she found herself being led carefully through the throng of dancing couples and back to the ledge where Nick had set their drinks. Glass now in hand, Allie made short work of the vodka-cranberry concoction.


    ¡°Very impressive,¡± Nick smiled as she set her now empty glass back down on the shelf. ¡°Up for another?¡±


    ¡°Are you trying to get me drunk?¡± She asked playfully and found the idea not at all repulsive.


    He flashed a toothy grin. ¡°Only if you want to be.¡±


    Returning upstairs, Allie sought Faith out in the crowd and found her in one of the U-shaped booths on the opposite side of the bar. She was sitting across from the cute guy she had earlier snagged, but immediately reached for Allie as she arrived, sliding over and pulling her into the booth beside her.


    ¡°I¡¯m going for drinks. Anybody interested?¡± Nick had asked after quick introductions had been made.


    ¡°Not too shabby,¡± Faith whispered her approval after Nick departed. ¡°Are you having a good time?¡±


    ¡°Not at all,¡± Allie said with a smirk, ¡°I¡¯m having a great time.¡±


    ¡°I knew it!¡± Faith was smug and overly pleased with herself. ¡°Didn¡¯t I say that this was exactly what you needed?¡±


    ¡°Did you now?¡± Allie asked, her eyebrow raised suspiciously.


    ¡°Well, if I didn¡¯t, it was certainly implied. Seriously though, I¡¯m so glad you came out tonight.¡± She slipped her arm around Allie and gave her a squeeze.


    Nick ordered a second round, and eventually a third, as they sat chatting and it wasn¡¯t long before Allie was sporting more than just a little bit of a buzz. Across the table, Faith was settling in cosily with her date Dylan, as the guys continued to chat. It gave Allie ideas of her own. Finishing the rest of her drink, she leaned back, allowing herself to fall more into Nick, than the upholstery behind her. He responded in kind by opening himself up to her, slipping his arm around her and snuggling her in close. She found the back of her head lying comfortably against his chest as she gazed up into his eyes. ¡°Hey, you,¡± she said as she greedily stole his attention all for herself.


    ¡°Hey,¡± he countered and raised his hand to gently trace her jawline with his finger. He stopped and tapped her gently on the tip of her nose. ¡°I think you may be a little drunk.¡±


    ¡°Oh? And what makes you sink such a think?¡± She asked, frowning slightly as she slurred her words.


    Fortunately, Nick was fluent in drunkspeake. ¡°What makes me think such a thing?¡± he asked, patiently repeating her question, his brow raised curiously.


    She nodded happily as she gazed up into his face. He really was quite handsome, and she thought she might like to kiss him.


    ¡°Well, it may have something to do with the copious amounts of alcohol I¡¯ve plied you with.¡±


    Allie giggled at his response. ¡°You think?¡± Feeling brave, she reached up and grabbed him by his shirt collar; pulling him towards her as she raised herself up, hellbent on getting that kiss. She could feel his breath on her lips when Nick was suddenly pulled away as they were unceremoniously interrupted.


    It was the bouncer from downstairs. He had grabbed hold of Nick¡¯s arm and was now leaning in close to whisper urgently in his ear. The next moment Nick was untangling himself from Allie as he quickly got to his feet.


    ¡°If you¡¯ll excuse me,¡± he managed to blurt, before following after the bouncer.


    Allie righted herself in the booth, a curious expression upon her face as she turned to watch Nick depart. He seemed to be heading towards the exit.


    Allie glanced at Faith who looked just as intrigued by his sudden departure, as she rose to her feet to follow. Once out of the booth, the totality of her drinking immediately caught up with her. Her first few steps were shaky, and she teetered for a second before finding her balance, so much so that Dylan reached out a concerned hand to steady her.


    ¡°You good?¡± Faith inquired and she nodded as she turned to follow Nick through the crowd.


    Allie caught sight of him just as he disappeared through the first set of doors. By the time she crossed the vestibule, Nick had already made it outside. She stopped at the heavy doors and peered out at him as her breath fogged up the glass. At the foot of the stairs a group of bouncers stood and amid them was a smaller figure dressed in jeans and a hoodie. Nick immediately joined them, slipped his arm around the smaller figure, and pulled him aside. She watched as he dropped into a squat as he conversed with the baby-faced teen, a black boy with a medium complexion, his hair done up in rows of small tight braids. Nick soon straightened and beckoned to the bouncer from earlier. They spoke briefly before Nick turned and headed back towards the doors as the bouncer waited with the boy.


    ¡°Is everything okay? What¡¯s with the kid?¡± Allie asked concerned as Nick pulled open the doors and walked briskly by her.


    Nick flashed a cocky grin, before he reached back and took her by the hand. ¡°Missed me, huh?¡±


    Allie felt the heat rise to her cheeks but had no time to retort; as the next moment they were crossing the inner doors and once more she was experiencing that strange tingling sensation from before. A shocked gasp escaped her lips and Nick glanced back at her curiously. Allie recalled Faith telling her that not everyone could feel the ward. Did that mean that Nick couldn¡¯t feel it? Or was he perhaps surprised that she could? It was a question she supposed she couldn¡¯t really ask, at least not without sounding a bit crazy herself. So instead she focused on trying to get answers to the questions that Nick seemed to be avoiding.


    ¡°Hey, wait.¡± Allie said coming to a sudden and complete stop, forcing Nick to do the same. ¡°Tell me, what¡¯s going on?¡±


    Nick sighed and wrapped his arm around her, pulling her close. Once more Allie felt the welcoming heat from his body as he continued to lead her through the bar. He was directing her not back to their table, but towards the bar instead.


    ¡°It¡¯s nothing you have to worry about. That boy is¡­ like a little brother to me. He just needs my help, that¡¯s all.¡±


    ¡°Oh, like a big-brother, big-sister sort of thing?¡± Allie asked, thinking of the mentoring program.


    ¡°Exactly.¡±


    They reached the bar, and Nick released his grip on her to slip his arm around Nate. He leaned in close to him, speaking low. ¡°Hey. I gotta head. Jaylen¡¯s here.¡±


    ¡°Everything okay? Do you need me to come?¡±


    Nick smiled wide. ¡°Nah, I¡¯m sure it¡¯s nothing¡ªjust wanted to let you know.¡± He squeezed him in a brief hug. ¡°Try to have some fun tonight, kay? I promise, a good time isn¡¯t going to kill you.¡±


    ¡°Says you,¡± Nate retorted as he let go.


    Nick stepped back and turned to Allie. ¡°It was really nice meeting you.¡± He leaned in and gave her a quick peck on the cheek. ¡°Take care of my boy for me, okay?¡± he whispered in her ear, before departing.


    Allie watched silently as Nick made his way back through the crowd and disappeared through the door. She¡¯d been having such a nice time with him, and now that he was gone, she felt deflated. Across the room, she could see Faith making out with Dylan¡ªand there was no way she was going to interrupt that. Turning back towards the bar, she climbed onto the stool next to Nathan, carefully straightening the skirt of her dress as she did. She supposed he wouldn¡¯t mind her sitting with him now that Nick had departed.


    Nate glanced at her, giving her an encouraging smile. ¡°Cheer up.¡± He reached out and poked her in the side. ¡°There are more fish in the sea, and there are definitely more trolls roaming the Pitt.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I guess.¡± She admitted dejectedly, ¡°But I really liked that troll.¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Nate agreed. ¡°He¡¯s a pretty good guy.¡±


    ¡°Well, the two of you seem close.¡± She was thinking about how Nick had hugged him goodbye and how comfortable they were with one another. Nick was very touchy-feely; especially the way he had immediately taken her¡ªa complete stranger¡ªby the hand.


    ¡°Yeah, we are,¡± he said quietly. ¡°Neither of us have much family. He¡¯s like a brother.¡±


    Ryan appeared, setting a drink down in front of Allie¡ªanother cranberry and vodka. She looked at it curiously.


    ¡°Nate, can I get you another beer?¡±


    Nate examined his bottle. ¡°Nah, I¡¯m good.¡±


    Ryan nodded curtly before moving on.


    Allie glanced at Nate, ¡°Hey. Did you order this for me?¡±


    ¡°Not me,¡± he admitted.


    Allie quickly flagged Ryan down. ¡°I think there¡¯s been a mistake, I didn¡¯t order this.¡±


    Ryan beamed at her. ¡°Ah. Sorry Allie, forgot to mention¡ªcompliments of the gentleman.¡± He leaned between her and Nate, pointing to an individual behind them.


    Allie turned to see a tall dark-haired man standing by the railing surrounding the drop to the dance floor. He was nicely dressed in dark slacks and a tailored shirt. His hair was cropped short, and he was clean-shaven. He raised his own glass to her and nodded as he silently toasted her.


    Nate too had looked as Ryan pointed, but quickly returned to his drink, a frown crossing his brow.


    ¡°I think he likes you.¡±


    Allie turned to see the dark-haired girl from before¡ªMolly, wasn¡¯t it? She was extremely beautiful, with long dark hair, and deep brown eyes. She was smiling at her warmly, as she sipped at her drink through a tiny straw. Her lips were full and red and voluptuous.


    Molly graciously extended her hand to her. ¡°Sorry. I didn¡¯t get the chance earlier, I¡¯m Molly.¡±


    Allie took up her hand. ¡°I¡¯m¡ª¡±


    ¡°Allie. I know. I overheard Ryan. So¡­ are you going to go meet him?¡± Molly smiled slyly as she glanced towards the man. ¡°Cause if you¡¯re not interested¡­¡±


    ¡°No. I am.¡± Allie was genuinely intrigued. ¡°I mean, I should at least go over thank him for the drink.¡±


    Allie hopped down from the stool; drink in hand, intent on meeting her mysterious stranger, when Nate grabbed hold of her wrist.


    ¡°Allie, wait.¡± There was a look of concern in his baby-blues. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t¡ªI mean, that guy is bad news.¡±


    ¡°Oh?¡± Allie paused, a curious look on her face. ¡°Then will you come dance with me instead?¡±


    Molly stood close by quietly watching the exchange, a malicious look upon her face.


    Nate dropped his eyes. ¡°Sorry, no.¡± He released his grip on her and quickly tipped his beer, finishing what was left. ¡°I¡¯m going to call it a night.¡±


    *


    In a dark corner of the bar, in a booth he frequently claimed for himself, Damon sat with Allie; the former with his back towards the wall, the latter across the table facing him. She was a cute girl, clean cut and of college age. She was already a bit tipsy when she¡¯d approached him; her beautiful hazel eyes had that bright glossy look to them, and her cheeks were slightly flushed. She¡¯d been talking almost non-stop in a nervous sort of manner since they¡¯d first sat down. In turn, he¡¯d bought them drinks, which he took much diligence in sipping slowly¡ªit gave him something to do while she aimlessly prattled on.


    So far, he had learned that she was a small-town girl¡ªnew to Kingsford, and it was clear that she¡¯d lived an ordinary and very sheltered life. She had doting parents and an elder brother who worried about her, especially now that she¡¯d moved away to the big bad city. She¡¯d followed her high school sweetheart to the same college, only to discover two weeks earlier he¡¯d been cheating on her.


    Outside the booth to his right, Molly was by the railing dancing seductively with Teresa and Jess. From time to time she would eye him mischievously, and when she realized she had his attention, put on a little show just for him, grinding up against one of the other girls, who reciprocated quite enthusiastically with a gusto all of their own. The girls would then turn to him invitingly, beckoning as they teased.


    Turning his attention back to Allie, he found her staring at him expectantly. Had she asked him some question while his mind had been elsewhere? He had no idea why Molly had put him on to her¡ªshe was hardly his type. Yet she had been insistent that he buy her a drink; there had to be something more to it, something that he was missing.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry Allie. I completely zoned out there,¡± he admitted. ¡°What were you saying?¡±


    Allie glanced over towards Molly and the girls.


    Busted. Yeah, she¡¯d definitely seen him staring. Damon tipped back his drink, finishing it in one swoop. ¡°I think I¡¯ll order another. Can I get you anything?¡±


    Allie only shook her head, looking down at the table as she did.


    At the bar, Ryan immediately approached him. Without a word he poured Damon a double scotch, neat.


    ¡°I may need two of those,¡± Damon said as he watched Ryan pour.


    ¡°That bad, is it?¡± he asked as he set a shot glass down in front of him. He poured him an ounce from an entirely different bottle. ¡°Here,¡± He pushed the glass towards him. ¡°Shoot that instead.¡±


    Damon did as he was told, before gesturing that he¡¯d like another.


    ¡°What¡¯s the problem? She seems like a perfectly nice girl.¡±


    Damon quickly threw back the shot glass a second time. ¡°That is the problem. She¡¯s a perfectly nice girl. End of story. Finito.¡± He set the shot glass down with a bang as if to punctuate his statement.


    ¡°Want another?¡±


    Damon shooed the bottle away with his hand. ¡°Nah, I supposed I shouldn¡¯t keep the lady waiting.¡±


    ¡°Speaking of making out¡­¡± A small smile played about Ryan¡¯s lip.


    Damon raised an eyebrow. ¡°Were we?¡±


    ¡°How did you do in the game tonight?¡±


    His face broke out in a wide smile. ¡°Cleaned house.¡± It was the highlight of his evening. Once a month, the pit hosted a quiet game of cards in a backroom behind the bar. Not only was it a fun night to be had by all, but it also held some diplomatic importance as well. There was a mix of races that would attend; species that wouldn¡¯t normally associate with one another, whether due to distance, or values, or discord. Sitting down across from one another for a friendly game of cards, helped to personalize things. No longer was it simply the elves against the warlocks, it became Frost Whiteshade going all in, and Maise Miximing calling his bluff. Friendships were made and stories were shared.


    Reaching into his pocket, Damon pulled out a large wad of bills. ¡°I love playing cards with the faeries¡ªdeep pockets.¡±


    ¡°Excellent.¡± Ryan reached out and relieved him of the handful of cash. He began counting it cheerfully. ¡°This will go nicely against your tab.¡±


    Damon swept a hand through his short dark hair. ¡°Really? You¡¯re leaving me with nothing?¡±


    Ryan seemed to consider things before deftly counting out three bills. He slipped them into Damon¡¯s shirt pocket with a gracious smile. ¡°I suppose I can¡¯t leave you completely dry.¡± He poured another shot and pushed it towards Damon. ¡°Here,¡± he said unable to hide his guilty amusement. ¡°It¡¯s on the house.¡±


    *


    Allie was feeling sorry for herself. For the second time that night, she¡¯d caught the attention of a very sexy guy and what had she done? She proceeded to bore him to death.


    ¡°What the hell¡¯s wrong with you?¡±


    ¡°Excuse me?¡± Allie looked up to find Molly standing over her with an annoyed look upon her face, hands planted firmly on the table. A second later she was sitting across from her, taking up the seat that Damon had abandoned.


    ¡°Oh, please. Take a seat,¡± She didn¡¯t try to hide the contempt in her voice. There was something about Molly¡¯s face that brought out the worst in her¡ªor perhaps it was the fact that she was the girl in question that Damon had been ogling only moments before.


    ¡°You are completely blowing it. A girl like you comes to a place like this for one reason only.¡±


    ¡°Oh? And what¡¯s that, exactly?¡± Allie asked bitterly.


    ¡°To have an adventure,¡± Molly said knowingly. ¡°You know¡­ a good time. To be something you¡¯re not, even if it¡¯s only for one night.¡±


    ¡°That sounds astonishingly a lot like Halloween.¡±


    Molly looked thoughtful. ¡°Same principal applies, I suppose¡ªexcept for the costume, of course. C¡¯mon girl, don¡¯t you love a mystery? Damon¡¯s just that. Sure, he¡¯s not the one you started out with, but if you play your cards right, perhaps spice things up a bit, he could be the one that you leave with.¡±


    ¡°Leave with?¡± Allie repeated, dropping her eyes. Leave with him? As in take a man home from a bar? She¡¯d only ever been with Ethan, and if he ever found out¡­ but wait¡ªwhy not? Wasn¡¯t Ethan the one who had cheated in the first place? She didn¡¯t need his permission or his approval anymore. Besides, wasn¡¯t this the time in her life for her to be figuring things out, trying different things, meeting new people¡­wasn¡¯t going off to college exactly that?


    ¡°You find him attractive, don¡¯t you?¡±


    Allie looked up to find Molly staring at her. Her eyes were deep and dark, her voice, soothing.


    ¡°Of course, I do.¡± And it was true. Damon was indeed handsome, with hair nearly as dark as Nick¡¯s. In fact, they were both tall, dark-haired and attractive¡ªbut that was where their similarities ended. While Nick was bright and cocky and cheerful, Damon was dark, cautious and reserved. Still, she found his quiet demeanour extremely enticing¡ªhence inciting the nervous case of babble-mouth she had found herself caught up in.


    When he invited her back to his table, Damon had been content to simply let the silence fall between them. She however, had felt compelled to fill that awkward silence, and she soon found herself chatting endlessly while staring nervously at the table-top, her drink, a button on his shirt¡ªat anything other than his sharp sexy eyes. When she finally did look up, his gaze had¡­shifted.


    ¡°Then let him know. You already know he¡¯s into you. Out of all the girls in the bar¡ªyou¡¯re the one he approached. The one he found special. He chose you.¡± Molly paused as Allie considered her words. ¡°He won¡¯t run out on you the way Nick did, if that¡¯s what you¡¯re worried about.¡± There was a slight hint of disdain in her voice. ¡°Damon¡¯s a true gentleman.¡±


    ¡°Nick? But he left to help a friend¡ª¡±


    ¡°Allie,¡± Molly said in a tone as if they¡¯d been friends forever, ¡°concentrate. Forget about Nick. It¡¯s Damon, we¡¯re focusing on. It¡¯s Damon you want.¡±


    Molly¡¯s dark eyes were comforting. She was right, of course. It was Damon that she wanted. Damon who was quiet, sexy, and mysterious. Damon who had chosen her. Perhaps she had just needed to hear the words aloud, to know it to be true.


    ¡°What should I do?¡±


    Molly smiled. Standing, she extended her hand towards Allie. Beyond them Damon was returning. ¡°Come, dance with us.¡±

 THREE

    THREE


    It was early morning. Dawn had just broken out across the sky when Wes Williams, caretaker of buildings 42, 44 and 46 of Primrose Lane, dragged his stepladder out from the utility closet and across the foyer of building number 42. There was a broken light fixture in the vestibule that needed replacing. The job required him to prop open the outer door with the ladder, blocking access to the front entrance. Because of this, he wanted to get it done and the ladder removed before his many tenants started leaving for work.


    The early hour didn¡¯t faze Wes in the slightest. He¡¯d already been up since five. He was essentially retired, and having lost his wife years earlier, lived alone. He¡¯d taken the caretaker position because it had not only included an apartment, but a modest income as well. That, along with his pension, allowed him to live out his so-called twilight days in reasonable comfort.


    The position itself had been a decidedly smart move as Wes, a self-proclaimed jack-of-all-trades, had enough know-how to deal with most of the problems his tenants complained of. If an issue arose that he couldn¡¯t handle himself, he simply called in an expert. Between the three buildings, the work was steady enough to keep him busy, without becoming overwhelming.


    It so happened that he was atop of the ladder, when a large dog limped gingerly through the open door, under his ladder and into the foyer, leaving a trail of bloody paw prints behind it. Wes hesitated, transfixed, light fixture in hand, to curiously watch the animal as it made its way over to the bank of elevators. There it paused, before raising itself up on its hind legs and hitting the call button with the tip of its nose. The dog then flopped down and patiently waited for the elevator to arrive. When it did, it once more limped gingerly inside before disappearing from view. A moment later, the doors slid closed.


    Wes frowned and attempted to wrap his mind around what he had just witnessed. It was true that he¡¯d seen a lot of strange visitors to the apartment during his time as its caretaker, and by strange, he meant outright bizarre. This city had more than its fair share of freaks and oddities, yet he had to admit that in all this time, he had never witnessed a dog come calling on someone.


    Curiosity getting the best of him, he lowered himself from the ladder and set the light fixture aside. The chore at hand was, for the moment at least, forgotten, as he followed the path of bloody prints to the elevator bay and looked up at the numbers displayed above it. The lift the dog took had stopped at the sixth floor.


    Wes hit the call button himself deciding that curiosity notwithstanding, it was still very much his duty to check things out. He reached the top floor and once again followed the bloody trail of prints down the hall and around the corner to where the dog had finally stopped¡ªno, collapsed was a much better word for it¡ªoutside of apartment 603.


    He approached the dog carefully. It was one of those arctic snow dogs, large, with a dense silver-coloured coat and white underside. Its front leg, the one it had been favouring was now almost completely saturated with blood. Somewhere within its thick coat was a wound deep enough to cause such blood flow. Bloody smears on the door marked where the dog had apparently tried to scratch for entry before succumbing to its injury.


    Apartment 603 belonged to a single tenant, a favored one in fact, for in the four years he had been working here, he had never once had an issue with him. He was a quiet gentleman, tall and lean with dark hair and green eyes. He was handsome, almost to the point of being pretty, and if it weren¡¯t for the number of female callers that came looking for him, Wes might have questioned his apparent sexuality.


    Wes raised his fist but hesitated before knocking. The problem that faced Wes was that he could not recall having seen this tenant with a dog before. He hated to disturb the man, whom he knew worked nights, yet without assistance he realized too that it was very probable that the animal would die.


    ***


    Damon was jarred from his slumber, by an insistent banging sound. It had taken him a moment to realize that it was not an alcohol induced throbbing within his own head, but an outside influence all together; one that was pounding relentlessly on his apartment door. A glance at the illuminated clock in his otherwise darkened bedroom told him that he had only been asleep for a few short hours. The knocking however did not seem to be going away on its own. Cursing quietly, he flipped back the covers and still feeling groggy, finally succeeded in pulling himself from his bed, before swinging his bedroom door open.


    The early morning light assaulted him with full force, and he found himself squinting painfully against it. He had forgotten to close the heavy drapery that hung along his balcony door and the brightness was excruciating to the point of blinding. He staggered towards the kitchen and down the shallow steps to his sunken living room, where he crossed it quickly before heaving the thick curtains closed. The darkness that enveloped the room brought an instant relief to his battered senses. He could now make out much more than the blurred shapes of a moment before.


    He crossed back through the living room and up the steps that led to his front door, stopping momentarily to peek through the eye glass before sliding the chain bolt free and swinging the door open.


    ***


    Wes Williams had about decided that the tenant of 603 could not possibly have been home, when he finally heard the chain rattle from within, and the door opened. His tenant stood sleepy and dishevelled before him; his usually styled hair was standing up on end and he had a night¡¯s worth of stubble upon his chin as he squinted into the light from the hall. He was wearing a simple white tee shirt and pair of pale blue boxer shorts and there was no doubt in Wes¡¯s mind that he had just crawled out of bed.


    ¡°Sorry to disturb you,¡± Williams apologized, ¡°but is this your dog?¡±


    Damon stared at Williams, clearly not comprehending until the caretaker motioned urgently towards the floor.


    ¡°Dog?¡± Damon voiced, as he followed the gesture downwards to see that a silver dog had collapsed on his threshold. A small pool of blood was forming beneath the animal.


    ¡°Oh hell,¡± Damon swore before dropping to his knees and leaning over the canine.


    Wes too dropped to his knees, intent on helping as his tenant struggled to pull the injured animal into his arms. He¡¯d had a dog as a child and he found that the older he got, the more he reminisced over the sweeter times. He¡¯d always wanted to get another, but by then he had met and married Gloria, and she had the allergies.


    ¡°Don¡¯t touch him,¡± Damon snapped.


    Wes Williams instinctively backed off. There was a look in his tenant¡¯s eyes, a frightening darkness that he had never witnessed before.


    Almost immediately, his tenant regained his composure, his look softening. ¡°I¡¯m sorry Wes¡ªI didn¡¯t mean to startle you.¡± He hoisted himself to a standing position, the dog cradled carefully in his strong arms. Blood from the animal was now smeared across his shirt and shorts.


    ¡°S¡¯alright,¡± Wes answered as he straightened himself up. ¡°I understand you¡¯re upset. Is there anything I can do to help?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t think so,¡± Damon replied before backing into his apartment and closing the door behind him with his foot.


    Damon carried the wolf down the steps to his living room where he placed him, on his black leather sofa. He then rushed up the other set of steps to his kitchen, where he began searching the lower cupboards for the Tupperware that contained his assortment of medical supplies. Finding it, he set it upon the island that served not only as his meagre table, but more importantly as a divider for the drop between his kitchen and living room. From within the island itself, he produced a medium-sized metal bowl, the kind one might beat a cake in, which he then filled with hot water from the tap. He set the bowl upon the Tupperware before disappearing down the hall, past his bedroom to the small closet outside his bathroom door. He opened the closet and taking out several neatly folded hand towels, returned to the kitchen to stack those too upon the Tupperware. He was gathering it all up when a glance to the sofa below, sent him once more down the hall, where he returned this time with a warm, oversized blanket.


    Items in hand, he went back down to the living room. He set the towels and Tupperware on the coffee table, before shaking the blanket open and carefully covering the naked man who now lay unconscious on the sofa where the wolf had once been.


    They had been lucky. Had Nick reverted to his human form any sooner, Damon would have been forced to silence caretaker Williams. There was simply no means by which something like that could have been explained away. Werewolves; along with most things that went bump in the night, simply didn¡¯t exist in Mr. Williams¡¯ world.


    Damon sat down next to Nick and brushed his dark hair away from his face as he tried to rouse him. His forehead felt clammy and cool to the touch. This wasn¡¯t good for a guy that usually ran hot. ¡°Hey, kiddo.¡±  He called softly, attempting to rouse him. ¡°I¡¯m gonna need you to wake up now, okay?¡± When there was no response he tried again, louder this time and gently slapped his cheek. ¡°Nikolaus?¡± He slapped him again. ¡°Nick?¡± He sighed. ¡°Okay Niko. You rest for a bit. I got this.¡±


    He had never seen Nick so battered or torn. His neck, back and shoulders were covered with scratches. Dark bruises ran along his left side and Damon could see at least four separate bite marks. His left shoulder was especially torn. He took one of the hand towels and folding it into a square, held it there, applying pressure. ¡°Damn, boy.¡± Damon chided. ¡°What have you gotten yourself into?¡±


    It was unlikely that a single wolf could have caused this much damage. It was like the time he¡¯d patched Nick up after his first sexual encounter with a pure-blooded she-wolf. Wolven lovemaking he¡¯d discovered could be as painful for the participants as it was pleasurable. Of course, she¡¯d been merely testing his mettle, his worthiness to be her mate. Whatever had done this had been trying to kill him.


    He grabbed a second towel, dunked it in the hot water, and set about cleaning his wounds.  With the blood mopped up, he already looked a lot better. Most of the scratches were superficial, and werewolves were super fast healers. He could leave them be. The bites however¡­ Digging through the Tupperware, he found some gauze pads but the bottle of peroxide¡ªsome dumb-ass had put it away empty. He sighed. It looked like they were going old school. He went to the liquor cabinet (aka the cupboard over the fridge) to grab a bottle. ¡°You had better appreciate this,¡± he told Nick. ¡°This is some expensive shit.¡± He took a swig for himself, before sterilizing the bite marks. There was a nasty one low on his side that was still weeping blood and he took the time to bandage that.


    Having cleaned him up as best he could, Damon attempted a quick peek at the wound beneath the towel. There was a deep bite mark, where something had latched on tight and tore a good piece of him open¡ªhe¡¯d likely need stitches. Below the shoulder bite, beneath his collarbone, was a second deeper wound which Damon soon realized had nothing to do with either tooth or claw.


    He swore as he realized what the source of the wound might be. Gritting his teeth, he placed a reluctant finger into the hole, forcing it down gently into the warm space until his fingertip touched a hard metal surface. The arrowhead was buried deep.


    He quickly withdrew his finger and reached into the Tupperware, digging through it until he came up with a knife and a pair of long-nosed hemostats. Forcing his finger back down, he tried to determine the angle and how the flared barbs were sitting. The problem with removing an arrowhead was its general shape¡ªnarrow going in, wider out. In order to remove it with the least amount of damage, he had to widen the hole with an additional incision before trying to take it out. Using his finger as a guide, Damon carefully slipped the blade down alongside it, before cutting a wider path. It was probably merciful luck that Nick remained unconscious through the whole ordeal, for a surgeon, he was not.


    With the incision made; Damon reached for the hemostats. He parted the blades carefully, before inserting them into the wound and with as much skill as he could muster, attempted to clamp hold of the metal buried deep within. It was only after considerable cursing and several failed attempts, that he was finally able to clamp down on the blood covered tip. He removed it carefully, fearful that it might slip loose, understanding all the while that even with the incision, it had undoubtedly entered with far less damage than it was now exiting.


    He finally pulled the piece of metal free from Nick and was able to examine it. It was a broad-head arrow, hand cast, and this one had lodged itself deep inside its target, stopping only when it reached bone.


    Damon fingered the arrow tip tentatively and felt a familiar burning sensation against his fingertips. Silver. While an obvious irritant to him, silver was downright deadly to Nick. It would have immediately sapped his strength, greatly weakening him. If he hadn¡¯t removed the deadly bit of metal, it would have eventually killed him. He thought it odd that the shaft had come so cleanly free of the arrowhead. It hadn¡¯t snapped or been broken off. This led him to believe that it was by design. Any attempt by Nick to remove the arrow, would have caused it to detach from its shaft leaving the crippling silver buried within. Flipping the arrowhead, he could see that it was hollowed out. So that was the reason it hadn¡¯t penetrated bone¡­ He frowned at the piece of silver. It didn¡¯t make sense. Wouldn¡¯t a solid tip have caused more damage?  Unless¡­


    Placing a finger under the open hole, he tipped the arrowhead upside down. A single drop of colourless liquid dripped free. He rubbed it between his fingers before smelling it and tentatively touching it to his tongue. Spitting, his worst fears were confirmed. His fingertips were now numb, as was his tongue. He only knew of one poison to work that way. Wolfsbane. Damon¡¯s stomach did a sickening flip-flop as he realized that things had just gone from bad, to worse in a very short moment.


    Setting the arrowhead aside, he hurried to his bedroom for his cell phone, where it was charging peacefully on his bedside table. Snatching it up, he flipped through his contacts as he returned to his living room, dialling when he found the correct one.


    ¡°Please, please, please pick up.¡± He begged as he listened to it ring. After a long moment it went to voice mail.


    ¡°Bloody Hell,¡± Damon cursed as he threw the cell phone into the matching armchair. Panicking he brought his hands to his head, running his fingers through his hair as he contemplated what he should do next. Dilution¡ªantiseptic¡ªshould he flush the wound? Or was the heavy bleeding enough? Behind him, his cellphone suddenly came to life. He grabbed the phone, answering it as he unscrewed the bottle and gingerly poured some of the contents into the wound on Nick¡¯s shoulder.


    ¡°Ryan?¡± Damon hardly recognized his own voice¡ªwas shocked by the worry and desperation he heard. ¡°I need you.¡±


    ***


    ¡°I¡¯ll be right there.¡±


    Ryan, sitting on the edge of his bed, sheet draped loosely across his lap, dropped his phone onto the nightstand. In the bed behind him, Teresa watched him silently.


    They had only recently drifted off to sleep, after a bout of exceptionally enjoyable lovemaking, when Ryan¡¯s cellphone had gone off. It had jarred them awake, and as Ryan reached for it in the dark, he managed to knock it instead to the floor, where it of course, skidded neatly under the bed. Teresa had watched¡ªwith much admiration¡ªas her naked lover attempted to retrieve it. She¡¯d let her eyes roam slowly over his large muscular form; his powerful chest, muscled mid-section, and strong sexy back. As he retrieved the phone and took his place once more on the edge of the bed, she¡¯d crept up behind him, letting her arms encircle him, pressing her bare breasts against his back as she stroked his chest. She nibbled at his neck seductively while he checked his caller history.


    As his back stiffened within her embrace, and he continued to ignore her advances, she realized that something must be wrong. Thoughts of jumping him slowly faded, and she relinquished her hold on him, settling back into the bed instead. She listened as he quickly called whomever back, but it seemed the call was over before it¡¯d begun.


    ¡°It¡¯s Damon. Something¡¯s happened. I gotta go.¡± Even as he spoke, he was already getting dressed.


    ¡°Do you want me to come with?¡± She¡¯d asked with concern.


    Ryan turned, and smiling, looked at her for the first time. ¡°Nah, babe. You get some beauty rest. I¡¯ll be home before you know it.¡± He leaned in and kissed her tenderly, letting his lips linger longingly against hers. ¡°And don¡¯t think I didn¡¯t know what you were up to just now.¡± He whispered, as he finally pulled away. It pained him to leave her like this.


    ***


    Minutes later, Ryan ascended to the balcony of apartment 603 at 42 Primrose Lane. He rapped on the glass of the balcony door before coming inside. As he crossed the threshold, he was immediately hit by the aroma of blood with slight undertones of wet dog. ¡°Bloody hell,¡± he exclaimed crossing the room to the body which lay on the sofa. ¡°Is that Niko?¡±


    Damon nodded, and moved aside so he could take his spot beside Nick. The boy was a mess. He looked like he¡¯d come out on the loosing end of a dog fight. He pulled up the soiled towel, quickly glancing at Nick¡¯s damaged shoulder, before moving on to his face. Nick¡¯s complexion was ghostly white¡ªeven for a white boy. ¡°Do you have a penlight?¡± he inquired as Damon turned once more to the Tupperware. He began checking for pupil dilation, flashing the light across first his left, and then right eye. He then laid his hand against Nick¡¯s forehead, checking his temperature. He didn¡¯t like what he was witnessing; Nick¡¯s pupils were unresponsive; his core temperature was low, and his breathing was shallow. ¡°How long has he been like this?¡± Ryan asked. Taking up Nick¡¯s wrist, he checked his pulse.


    ¡°Twenty minutes or so, maybe thirty. I didn¡¯t check the time.¡±


    ¡°Has he been conscious at all?¡±


    Damon shook his head. ¡°My custodian found him. He¡¯d collapsed outside my door.¡±


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    ¡°We¡¯re lucky he didn¡¯t just call an ambulance.¡±


    ¡°He wasn¡¯t human at the time.¡±


    Ryan nodded his understanding. Something was nagging in the back of his mind as he returned once more to the wound in the shoulder. Wolven were excellent healers. There were several deep scratches along his shoulders and upper arms. After thirty minutes, small wounds such as this would have closed by now. ¡°Strange. He should have started healing by now.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I know.¡±


    Damon took a seat on the coffee table before passing him the arrow tip. ¡°I pulled this from him.¡±


    Ryan paused to inspect the bit of bloody metal. He fingered the tip which smoked and burned hot at his touch. ¡°This is silver. Looks custom made.¡± A heavy realization was setting in. ¡°Shit. He¡¯s tangled with a hunter.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s not the worst of it¡ª¡±


    ¡°Poisoned arrow?¡± Ryan interrupted, hazarding a guess. It wasn¡¯t hard to piece together this puzzle; they¡¯d played this game before. Hunter plus silver arrow equals werewolf hunter and if you were foolish enough to be hunting werewolves; you stacked the deck in your favor. ¡°Wolfsbane?¡± It would explain why the boy hadn¡¯t healed.


    ¡°It wasn¡¯t just dipped in poison.¡± Damon¡¯s voice was low and bleak. ¡°It¡¯s hollowed out. The arrowhead was full of it. Just how much do you think it¡¯d take before¡ª¡±


    ¡°Not enough,¡± he silenced him. ¡°Not for our boy.¡± He could see where this was heading. Damon was trying to remain stoic, but the worry in his voice was unmistakable. He needed to distract him from this frame of mind¡ªgive him hope. Ryan began carefully inspecting the wound in the shoulder. ¡°I think we may have lucked out.¡± He said a moment later. ¡°As far as I can tell, no major arteries have been damaged. It looks like we¡¯re just dealing with tissue damage and once we neutralize the poison, his natural healing abilities should take over.¡± He glanced over at Damon who looked somewhat relieved. ¡°Don¡¯t worry mate¡ªin no time at all, your boy will be back to his sweet annoying self.  All we have to do now is stitch up his shoulder.¡± Even with Nick¡¯s overclocked healing ability, he thought the shoulder might need some additional help.


    On the table beside Damon, Ryan spied the bottle. ¡°Whiskey,¡± he called out.


    Damon passed him the bottle. ¡°I already flushed out the wound.¡± He informed him.


    ¡°Nah. This is for me.¡±


    Damon watched him take a healthy draught from the bottle. ¡°What can I do?¡±


    Ryan set the bottle aside, absently wiping his face on his shirt sleeve, before meticulously rolling them up. It¡¯d been a long while since he¡¯d had to deal with something like this¡ªmost of the people he knew were fast healers. There was no way he wanted an overly anxious Damon standing over him while he blundered his way through suturing Nick¡¯s torn body.


    ¡°You are going shopping.¡±


    ¡°Shopping?¡± Damon looked positively unnerved by the thought.


    ¡°Yup. We¡¯re going to need some supplies if we¡¯re to neutralize this poison¡ªand the things I require can¡¯t be found at your local Big-mart.¡±


    ***


    The White Willow was a quaint two-story, white-bricked storefront nestled in among a line of other small mom and pop shops on a quiet tree-lined street. There was a textiles and draperies shop: Tailor Maid; a coffee and bakery called Sweet Sips; a bookstore entitled A Novel Idea; and an appliance repair shop known simply as Johnson¡¯s Electric.


    At this early hour, the street was quiet, with only the coffee house appearing to be open. Damon stopped in front of the white bricked building to examine it further. Up close he could see that trails of green ivy had been hand stencilled on the painted brick. It grew up the side of the building, and along the brickwork over the entrance way, where it finally crept down again on the other side. Large glass windows adorned each side of its centrally placed door. Painted on the left-hand window were the words: The White Willow; Apothecary; supplies and services. A list of such supplies and services followed bullet-style on the right window and included: botanicals, incense, sundries, oils, potions and powders, services. Stencilled on the glass of the door itself, in a small simple script were the hours. Open: 8am ¨C 8pm. Closed Sundays.


    Damon checked his phone. It was still twenty minutes to open. Nevertheless, he reached for the door-latch just to be sure. It held fast, but as he tried to open it, the old door rattled in her threshold and Damon spied a hint of movement from within. Peering against the glass, he was now sure of a shadowy figure deep within the shop. He rapped sharply on the glass and was soon rewarded by the shopkeeper; a bearded, middle-aged man dressed in tweed slacks and a button-down shirt, worn under a heavy cable-knit cardigan. He opened the door without pause, a little bell announcing his arrival, and proceeded to welcome Damon inside.


    ¡°Morning to you, up with the dawn I see. I¡¯ve yet to get the lights, but you¡¯re welcome to come inside.¡±


    Damon followed him in while the shop-keep disappeared into the back. The store was immediately welcoming, feeling somehow warm and earthy and smelt heavily of spice and floral and incense. The floors were dark hardwood; which were marked by age, and yet gleamed with care as the lights overhead suddenly turned on. A long-woven rug that ran lengthwise down the center of the shop was almost threadbare in places. To the far right, shelves lined the wall from floor to ceiling. The bottom most shelves held deep baskets that flipped on their sides, were home to an assortment of herbs, roots, tubers or other dried floral, while glass jars of various shapes and sizes dominated the shelves above. Their contents appeared to hold everything from the mundanely innocent; honeycomb, spices, and beeswax, to the intricately odd; goat gallstones, coffin nails and crossroad dirt.


    The middle of the room held an odd assortment of antique furniture; tables, display cabinets and desks. There were tables with candles of all shapes, colours, and sizes, some scented or scribed and for the D.I.Y. inclined, candle-making supplies: molds, wicks, waxes, and additives. There were multi-tiered displays of botanical and essential oils, sold in tiny cork topped bottles. Some Damon immediately recognized: like lavender, rosemary, sandalwood and sage. Others he was unfamiliar with, like angelica root, and oakmoss.


    There were displays of crystals and semi-precious stones; petrified wood; and small animal skulls, teeth and bones. There were tools for divination: tarot cards, crystal balls, runes and scrying mirrors and bowls. Another table held braids of sweet grass for smudging, and incense: in cones or sticks as well as a selection of ornamental burners. It seemed that for the spiritually inclined, the White Willow was a virtual cornucopia of the mystic and divine.


    Towards the back of the shop was a selection of books, journals and writing implements. A heavy worktable sat square in the middle of the floor. On the far wall, a doorway led to a backroom. It was from there, behind a beaded curtain that the shop keeper soon emerged. He proceeded to the sales counter which ran along the left-hand side of the room. Once situated, he regarded Damon as if for the first time. Thin-framed spectacles adorned his face, behind which watery blue eyes peered. His hair was a reddish-brown in colour and was just starting to thin at the temples. His beard too, kept neatly trimmed was the same reddish colour as his hair and only just beginning to show the slightest hint of grey. ¡°Is there anything I can help you with?¡± he inquired with a faint smile.


    Damon reached into his pocket and came out with the crumpled bit of paper Ryan had given him. ¡°I have a list.¡± He said meekly, realizing that he would never find the ingredients needed in a timely enough fashion amongst the multitude of assorted sundries.


    ¡°From this, it looks like someone¡¯s been poisoned.¡± The shopkeeper responded gravely after only a quick glance at the paper. He immediately began searching the shelves behind him, unlocking the cabinet, and bringing down heavy glass jars filled with powders and other dried foliage.


    His lack of astonishment worried Damon. ¡°Do you sell poisons here?¡±


    ¡°I sell all manner of herb and root here, some of which can be poisonous.¡± He replied absentmindedly as he began weighing a greyish-white powder on an old-fashioned scale before dispersing it into a tiny woven sack. He began weighing and wrapping other herbs, mixing some together before placing these on parchment and expertly folding them into little envelopes.


    ¡°Do you sell wolfsbane?¡±


    ¡°Ah, wolfsbane is it? Aconite¡ªshe is one of the deadliest poisons.¡±


    ¡°Aconite?¡± Damon repeated.


    ¡°It has known many names over the years: Blue Rocket, King¡¯s Coach, Mourning Bride. But of all her monikers she is best known as Aconite, Monkshood or Wolfsbane.¡±


    ¡°So, if you are familiar with the poison, then are you familiar with the antidote as well?¡±


    The shop-keep paused from his work to glance at him sombrely. ¡°I am very sorry to say¡ªbut there is no antidote for aconite.¡±


    ***


    Nathan, wearing yesterday¡¯s clothes, and a pair of dark sunglasses; stood looking up the set of wide concrete steps that lay before him. Thirty minutes earlier, he¡¯d received an urgent phone call from Ryan with two sets of instructions. The first had been easy: head up to Ryan and Teresa¡¯s brownstone and get the small chest from the back of the bedroom closet. It had been simple enough, because he just so happened to live in the basement apartment beneath the very same brownstone.


    The second set of instructions had led him here.


    Unadulterated Acquisitions was a high-end antiques and collectables establishment, that had the reputation of being more of a museum than shop; as much of its merchandise was of the sort that only those with the largest of bankrolls could ever hope to afford. The owner and curator had the expertise and discretion required to search out and obtain for her very select clientele, the finest and rarest of antiquities. It was rumoured there wasn¡¯t anything she couldn¡¯t acquire; provided you had the funds of course, or something of equal value in which to trade.


    Nathan ascended the steps, pausing a moment before the double wide doors. The entire storefront was made of glass, so that passers-by could easily see her wares. The ground floor level was arranged like a high-end showroom. The floors were white marble and throughout the open space, majestic roman pillars reached up towards the ceiling above, where multiple banks of skylights, let natural light stream down to highlight the artifacts below. Halfway into the room, an elegantly curved staircase ran up from both the left and right sides of the room to the loft above. Looking down upon the stairway, one would be able to see that the fixture of stairs was shaped like a beautiful crescent moon.


    The display cases themselves, many with their own security alarms, were made of tempered glass, with much of their contents laid out on small pillows in rich hues of scarlet or purple. Much of the jewellery was especially displayed this way. Sculptures, busts and other such works of art sat throughout the lower level on their own display stands, while rare oil-paintings and tapestries were exhibited on the walls.


    The loft above, Nathan knew, contained a private library of collectable maps, documents and tomes; many of them hundreds of years old. It also served as an area to showcase her private collection of medieval and historical weapons.


    However, it wasn¡¯t any book, trinket or collectable that he¡¯d been sent to obtain today¡ªbut the curator herself: Penelope Vaughn. Nathan could see her now, standing behind the front desk, a trim, petite, and lovely looking woman. She had a heart-shaped face (which was only just beginning to show her age), a flawless complexion and beautiful hazel-brown eyes. Her hair, a rich auburn brown, cascaded down her back in long flowing waves. She was wearing an elegant skirt-suit, black with a pink silk blouse beneath, and a matching pair of pink closed-toe, high-heel shoes.


    Tentatively, Nathan rapped gently upon the glass. It was still early, and he sincerely doubted that she was open for business. Some days, he knew she was open by appointment only¡ªthis allowed her the discretion she needed when dealing with her more unique clientele. Nathan watched as Penelope looked up towards him, a curious look upon her face. Her expression soon changed from one of curiosity to that of recollection and she waved to him with a welcoming smile. Moments later, she was unlocking the door and escorting him in.


    ¡°Good morning, Nathan,¡± she said genuinely as she leaned in to give him a brief hug and a quick peck on the cheek. ¡°How have you been?¡±


    ¡°Oh, you know. Good, I guess... at least as well as can be expected, I suppose.¡±


    ¡°What can I do for you today? Can I offer you some tea? Or do you perhaps have something that you think might pique my interest?¡± She was glancing knowingly at the little chest he was holding under one arm.


    ¡°Oh, this?¡± Nathan looked at the small box he was holding. ¡°No, I¡¯m not even sure what this is. I was asked to bring it to Damon¡¯s. I was also asked, to bring you too ma¡¯am, if you¡¯ll come.¡±


    ***


    ¡°You are telling me there is no antidote?¡± Damon sounded more dejected than dumbfounded.


    The shopkeeper narrowed his eyes as he spoke. He seemed secretly delighted by his audience of one. ¡°She was not known as the queen of poisons for no reason.¡± He said with a theatrical air. ¡°As an assassin¡¯s poison she was second to none, leaving no traces of poison in the body; it would appear instead, that her victim had simply died of natural causes. First, she causes a loss of sensation to the extremities, then a slowing of the heart, followed by eventual paralysis and convulsions; all the while leaving the head unclouded. Her victims often die of a heart attack, or more commonly, asphyxiation due to respiratory failure. In most cases however, the victim lapses into coma just before death, which I suppose is a blessing of sorts.¡±


    A chill crept along Damon¡¯s spine. Those symptoms, all which he spoke: a loss of sensation, slowness of breath, reduced heart rate¡ªthey were identical to what Nick was experiencing. Did that mean coma was next? Or was he already there? Damon had removed an arrowhead from his body, and Nick had remained unconscious. Was that because of a loss of sensation¡­or was he was already in a coma?


    There was something however, that didn¡¯t make sense. Ryan would not have sent him on a fool¡¯s errand. ¡°Then what of the list?¡± He asked the shop keep.


    ¡°Ah. To counter-act and deal with the symptoms. If each symptom is timely addressed, death does not have to be the outcome. Used correctly, poisons have acted as medicine since the dawn of time. Monkshood, for example, has been used medicinally for centuries to help treat those with heart problems. The roots or leaves are carefully boiled and distilled, where it can then be either used as a tea, or further made into an elixir. Remember of course, we are speaking of using only the smallest of amounts, in the weakest of concentrations.¡±


    The shopkeeper paused for a moment to pull on a pair of gloves. ¡°In cases of poisoning however, extreme methods are often used. Belladonna, for example; the deadly nightshade, I am gathering a sample of her for you now. In essence, you are attempting to use one type of poison to counteract another. Whereby one slows the heart, the other is known to cause a quickening. It must be dealt with carefully though, moderation is key.¡±


    Damon was still bothered by it all. ¡°Okay, I understand why historically it was used¡ªbut why nowadays?  Surely modern medicine could be used instead. Why do you sell it at all?¡±


    ¡°I suppose it is because I believe that just because something is old, it doesn¡¯t mean that it isn¡¯t still useful, or shouldn¡¯t belong in this world. Perhaps,¡± he said sombrely, eyeing Damon over the top of his spectacles ¡°it is for the same reason that you didn¡¯t simply take your friend to the emergency room¡ªthat there are those who exist in this world, for which the old ways are still the best.¡±


    ***


    Nate was holding on for dear life, as once more Penelope rounded a turn much too quickly.  So far, she had ignored at least five stop signs and ran three red lights in her haste to get to Damon¡¯s.


    Only minutes earlier they had been standing in her showroom as she demanded a peek into the small chest he was holding. She had glanced inside curiously. It took but a moment for her to understand the importance of the articles within. Nathan had seen the realization light up in her eyes¡ªand then she was off. He had never seen a woman move that fast in heels before.


    Nate too had glanced down into the chest, but the meaning behind the mundane objects had failed to make a connection with him.


    ¡°What are you waiting for?¡± She had called to him from the doorway, her keys already poised to lock up shop.


    Now outside 42 Primrose Lane, Penelope was disembarking, but not before snatching up the chest that had been sitting between the front seats. She had abandoned her silver Benz askew on the street, not even bothering to close the door behind her as she ran. She reminded him of a small running-back with a chest for a football.


    Nate too climbed out, stopping only to close the driver-side door before crossing the street and heading up the walkway towards the apartment building.


    The apartments at 42, 44 and 46 Primrose Lane were of original Victorian architecture, each six-story high and identical in design. Surrounding the properties was a large stone fence that separated the buildings from the street beyond. The lawns inside were meticulously kept, and had it been spring, it would have been overflowing with flowering bush, plants and trees. Now however, most of the plants were being prepared for winter, with some of the smaller shrubs having been carefully wrapped in burlap.


    Reaching the doorway, Nathan stepped around a ladder that had been set up in the entrance-way.  Beyond the doors, an elderly gentleman was busily mopping the mosaic-tiled floor. Penelope Vaughn was nowhere to be seen.


    Upstairs, Nate stopped outside of apartment 603. Steeling himself, he gave a quick rap on the door, before stepping inside. He glanced quickly around the room. The apartment¡¯s only occupants seemed to be gathered in the living room below. He could see Ryan and Penelope, the former standing, almost on guard; his burly arms crossed in front of his chest, the latter kneeling in front of the sofa. Damon, he realized with some relief, wasn¡¯t present. Nathan felt himself relax. The truth was that he never really knew how to behave around Damon, whose presence always made him uncomfortable.


    Stepping down into the living room, he was just in time to see Ryan help Penelope to her feet. Beyond them, between the spaces of their bodies, Nathan could now see that there was a third person¡ªa figure lying prone on the sofa behind them.


    ¡°Is that¡ª?¡±


    Penelope had quickly intercepted him, grabbing hold of Nate as he had rushed forward, holding him close with the instincts and compassion of a mother. ¡°Sweet boy,¡± she addressed him tenderly.  ¡°We are going to take care of him. Do you hear me? Everything is going to be okay.¡±


    Nate pulled away from her and began frantically pacing the room. ¡°What happened?¡± he demanded of Ryan.


    Ryan too, reached out and gently grabbed his face, forcing him to make eye contact with him. ¡°The whole of it, I don¡¯t entirely know. But the short of it, is that he¡¯s been poisoned, by a hunter¡¯s arrow.¡±


    Nate stopped short. He felt his skin grow hot. ¡°A hunter?  Here in Kingsford?¡± The thought both angered and frightened him. ¡°If there¡¯s a hunter¡ª¡±


    ¡°Then we¡¯ll deal with it. Right now, what¡¯s important, is taking care of Nick¡±


    ¡°Agreed. So, let¡¯s get on with it.¡± Penelope had slipped off her suit jacket and was now carefully rolling up the sleeve of her pink blouse.


    Nathan watched as Ryan opened the chest and began pulling out the items he had seen before; an old glass jar with a strange stopper-top, some lengths of rubber tubing, thin metal skewers or spikes and what appeared to be a metal tube or pipe.


    ¡°What is all of this?¡± Nate asked as Penelope took a seat in the armchair next to Nick.


    ¡°We¡¯re going to perform a blood transfusion.¡± Ryan replied as he pulled fresh tubing from the Tupperware of supplies. He began connecting tubing to the glass bottle. To the other end of one of the tubes, he attached a long needle. ¡°Nick¡¯s lost a fair bit of blood, and Penelope has graciously agreed to donate some of hers. It¡¯s my hope that her untainted blood will help to slowdown the toxicity within his system, long enough for his natural healing to overcome the effects of the wolfsbane.¡±


    Ryan carefully slid the needle into a vein on her forearm, before securing it in place with tape. Immediately a dark fluid began to flow down through the tube, dripping into the bottle.


    ¡°Wolfsbane, did you say?¡± Penelope sounded intrigued. ¡°It¡¯s very likely that Nick will have a higher immunity to this poison. If we were to prepare a tincture of belladonna, we may be able to normalize his heart rate.¡±


    Ryan sat down on the edge of the coffee table. ¡°I¡¯ve already sent Damon for the belladonna, but I have to admit that my knowledge of working with poisons is very limited.¡±  Ryan looked at her suspiciously then. ¡°Why is it that you think Nick may have some resistance to wolfsbane?¡±


    ¡°Because,¡± Penelope said reluctantly as she stumbled over her words. ¡°Nick and I have¡ªwell, that is to say, I may have introduced him to¡ª¡±


    ¡°Now¡¯s not the time to mince words, Penelope¡ªout with it!¡±  Ryan demanded.


    ¡°Nick and I have been consuming aconite tea.¡± She blurted, dropping her eyes as she did.


    ¡°Why on earth would¡ª¡±


    ¡°To control the wolf of course. In small doses, it has proven to help calm us in the days leading up to the full moon.¡±


    ¡°And you think that this exposure may have increased his immunity.¡±


    ¡°I think it¡¯s very likely.¡±


    Nathan was feeling very much like a child who¡¯d been forgotten at the kids table while the grown-ups conversed in the next room. From his spot on the love seat, he sat quietly watching their exchange. He¡¯d retreated there as soon as Ryan inserted the needle into Penelope¡¯s arm. To say that he was uncomfortable with the situation, would be a gross understatement. It was no secret, the way he felt about bloodletting. The sight of it alone made his skin crawl prickly beneath his shirt. The smell, however, was far worse.


    As soon as he¡¯d descended into the living room, there¡¯d been the faint scent of Nick¡¯s blood in the air¡ªa smell that Nathan shamefully hated to admit, was overpoweringly enticing. It set all of his senses on high alert. Now with the addition of Penelope¡¯s fresh blood, he¡¯d found himself growing increasingly irritable.


    Then there were the sounds¡ªhe could hear Penelope¡¯s heart beating from across the room as loud and clear as if someone had been hammering a ladle against a pot. Worst still, was the constant drip, drip, drip of her blood as it dropped into the transfusion bottle.


    Nate covered his ears with his hands, trying to drown out the sounds, but they seemed to be more inside his head than out. Closing his eyes, he tried not to think of it, but the inviting smells, the wet dripping, all of it was driving him into a frenzy. He had to act¡ªno, he needed to act; to kill¡ªhe wanted to silence the beating heart that was enticing him so very badly.


    His derangement was such, that Nate couldn¡¯t hear his name being repeatedly called, until strong hands were unexpectedly on him; forcing his own hands from his ears, replacing them with tender ones upon his cheeks as they gently held his face. From a distance he could hear a voice calling to him, through the haze and the hate, pushing past the hunger that was threatening to devour him whole.


    ¡°Open your eyes, Nathan. Listen to me. Open your eyes.¡±


    Nathan obeyed, and his eyes were huge and black with desire. Everything was so overwhelmingly bright. Had he been outside, he would have been blinded. Buried within the brightness was the silhouette of a man, and the sudden overpowering smell of fresh blood.


    ¡°Drink¡± The voice commanded, and Nate latched onto the wrist from which the blood was freely flowing¡ªlapping and sucking, his hunger paramount.


    ¡°Good boy,¡± he heard the shadow say, and the voice sounded closer, less hollow. ¡°That¡¯s right, come back to me Nate.¡±


    He soon became aware of a hand gently stroking his head, petting him gently as he fed, and cooing to him softly. Slowly, the brightness faded, his thirst ebbed, and the sounds diminished. He now felt calm, content and sleepy. He released his grip on the man¡¯s arm, seeing dark impressions where his fingers had latched on tight. He looked up to see Damon kneeling by him, watching him closely.


    ¡°Welcome back,¡± he said.

 FOUR

    FOUR


    ¡°There, that should do it,¡± the shopkeeper said slipping off his gloves. He had finished with the belladonna, folding it up into a little envelope like he had the other herbs. This time he stamped the small packet in red ink, to mark its more dangerous content. He finished by wrapping all the envelopes together in a small package which he tied carefully with butcher string.


    Reaching under the counter, the shop-keep came up with a worn leather-bound ledger, its width perhaps a third longer than its length. Flipping through its pages, he finally spread it open, and taking a fountain pen from his left breast pocket began scribbling within it, in a small, neat penmanship. ¡°First initial, last name?¡± he inquired, looking at Damon over the top of his spectacles.


    ¡°D. Sinclair.¡± Damon announced, as the shop keep nodded.


    ¡°If you would initial here, Mr. Sinclair,¡± he said as he turned the book towards him.


    He had indicated a space on the right-hand page of the ledger, where he had recorded the date, the article of sale (in this case, the belladonna), quantity and name of purchaser. The last column was for the seller¡¯s initials. Damon carefully initialed as instructed, and as he did, quickly perused the rest of the page. It seemed that not only were poisonous herbs recorded here, but other more eccentric items as well. Also signed for were things like potions, enchanted items and objects that could be considered weapons, like ceremonial daggers and knives. On the opposite page, a familiar name caught his attention: a P. Vaughn, had only a couple months earlier purchased a quantity of monkshood.


    Damon frowned as he slid the book back to the shopkeeper. ¡°Does Penelope Vaughn often purchase wolfs-bane from you?¡±


    The clerk glanced up somewhat surprised. ¡°I suppose she does when her own stores run low. She¡¯s been a faithful customer over the years. Why do you ask?¡±


    ¡°I just find it odd, perhaps, seeing her name there. I wonder why she would need to procure such a thing.¡±


    The shop keeps¡¯ blue eyes narrowed somewhat. ¡°I suppose, I have had my suspicions over the years¡ªbut it would be best that you speak to her yourself if you are inclined to learn more. Many of my customers are, how should I put it¡­ more unorthodox in nature. If you know Ms. Vaughn personally, and are aware of her condition, then one might be able to conclude on their own as to why she may need such a thing.¡±


    ***


    Returning home, Damon immediately recognized the silver Benz that was parked across from his apartment building. ¡°Small world,¡± he thought as he threw on his blinker and turned on to Becket Street where he then swerved into the alley behind his building. He parked Ryan¡¯s black BMW in one of the vacant spots. Brandishing his keys, he slipped into the building through the back door and took the service elevator up. The sixth floor held only four units with his apartment in the back corner overlooking the alley. Reaching his door, he frowned as he found it slightly ajar. Once inside he removed his dark sunglasses, setting them on the small table beside his front door. He could hear voices coming from his living room; Ryan¡¯s deep baritone and a female voice that no doubt belonged to the she-wolf Penelope Vaughn. Stepping into the living room, he quickly realized that there was another occupant. Nathan, clearly within the throes of a blood lust, was on the love seat, clutching his head in his hands, his eyes squeezed shut. Neither Ryan nor Penelope had taken notice of his distress, so absorbed they were in conversation.


    Dropping to his knees, he grabbed hold of Nate¡¯s hands, forcing them from his face as he called out to him¡ªbut the boy was already too far gone. Behind him, Ryan was only now becoming aware of what was happening.


    ¡°Do you have a bag in the refrigerator?¡± he asked, suddenly stepping up.


    ¡°No time,¡± Damon said as he dropped his fangs and ripped open his own veins. He¡¯d seen Nate¡¯s eyes, and there had been nothing there but blood-lust. ¡°Drink,¡± he pushed his open wrist into his face and thankfully, Nathan latched on.


    The boy¡¯s grip was like a vice, his hunger relentless. Nate drank and drank from him like his thirst could not be quenched.


    Damon had never seen him like this. He worried that if Nate¡¯s hunger didn¡¯t soon sate, he may have to send Ryan to fetch the blood from the refrigerator after all; something that he would like to avoid at all costs. Nathan didn¡¯t consume human blood, and Damon couldn¡¯t betray his principles now in this moment of weakness. He would let him feed for as long as possible.


    ¡°Come back to me, Nate.¡± Damon begged, gently stroking his hair. Finally, Nate released him and looked up into his face. His blue eyes were wild and confused as if coming out of a trance, but at least they were human once more. Damon smiled, relief flooding over him. ¡°Welcome back,¡± he said. ¡°How are you feeling? Are you back in control?¡±


    Nate nodded silently, dropping his eyes, face red. He was withdrawing from Damon¡¯s touch, uncomfortable by his closeness.


    ¡°Come,¡± Damon stood and offered Nate his hand. ¡°You need to rest. You can use my bed.¡± After a feed of warm blood, it wouldn¡¯t be long before Nathan was sleeping¡ªwhether he realized it or not.


    Nate shook his head defiantly. ¡°I¡¯m okay. I want to be by Nick.¡±


    ¡°Then I¡¯ll bring you a blanket.¡± Damon turned to fetch the item, but immediately faltered; his legs having betrayed him.


    ¡°I got you,¡± Ryan said as he steadied him from behind. He had gone to the refrigerator, retrieved the blood and poured it into a large glass, which he was now extending towards him. ¡°Here. You drink this. I¡¯ll get the blanket.¡±


    Damon took the glass gratefully and downed half of it. He glanced over at Penelope, who had been quietly watching everything unfold from her seat in his easy chair. She was hooked up to an IV tube, her blood running down into a glass bottle. Her presence in his home left distaste in the back of his throat, however necessary it might have been. Ignoring her for the moment, he crossed over to check on Nick instead.


    ***


    Hours later, Ryan stood surveying the situation from his post in the Kitchen above. On the far side of the living room, Nathan was camped out on the loveseat, in a slumber so deep that he was oblivious to any happenings going on around him.


    Below him, Damon sat dutifully beside Nick like a silent sentry. He had pulled the coffee table so far forward that his knees were wedged up tight against the leather sofa, as he leaned over Nick, talking quietly, his hand hovered gently over his forehead. He¡¯d placed a compress upon his brow and from time to time, his fingers would descend into Nick¡¯s hair, in a gentle sweeping motion, as he brushed his dark hair away from his face.


    In the kitchen behind him, Penelope was continuing to formulate a potion from the herbs and powders brought home from the magic shop. The she-wolf had considerably more experience as a chemist, so Ryan had graciously stepped aside, allowing her to take the lead. Time was precious, and the dilution process was taking longer than he had anticipated.


    Even with the blood transfusion in place, Nick¡¯s condition seemed no better than before. He had hoped that Penelope¡¯s fresh blood would help his body fight off the toxin in his system. While it was true, he had been able to stop the bleeding in his shoulder (which he had wrapped in clean white bandages), Nick¡¯s pallor was still deathly pale, his heart-rate low and his skin was damp from a cold sweat.


    Ryan moved down to the sofa, as Damon took up the cloth and once more dunked it into the bowl of water on the table beside him, before wringing it out and reapplying it to Nick¡¯s brow.


    ¡°Can we talk?¡± He asked, placing a hand upon his shoulder. ¡°In private?¡±


    Damon had been eerily quiet since his return home, and the tension in the room had been stretched thin. He needed to see where his head was at.


    Without a word, Damon rose and followed Ryan to the bedroom, taking up an uneasy seat on the bed. He looked exhausted, which was understandable, considering. Still, there was more to it, he thought. Damon could get dangerously overprotective where Nick was concerned, and his uncanny quiet reminded him of a river newly covered in ice; brittle and thin, not quite transparent; ready to crack beneath you if you took a wrong step, and just below the surface; a dangerous current waiting to sweep you away into its churning depths.


    ¡°How are you holding up?¡± Ryan asked closing the door behind him.


    ¡°How do you think I¡¯m holding up? I come home to find a wolven in my living room, one son on his deathbed¡ªthe other on the brink of a frenzy. Oh, and did I happen to mention¡­ the wolven that was in my living room?¡±


    ¡°Shh,¡± Ryan cautioned. ¡°She¡¯ll hear you.¡±


    ¡°Of course, she can hear me,¡± Damon countered rising to his feet. His green eyes flashed dangerously. ¡°She¡¯s a wolf.¡±


    Ryan raised his arms defensively. ¡°I know you¡¯re upset, but I thought it was Nick¡¯s best chance.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re right.¡± Damon sighed as he sat back down. This time he dropped his head heavily into his hands. He looked defeated.


    Ryan stared a moment at Damon, slowly realizing. ¡°Wait, did you just agree with me?¡±


    ¡°It was a smart move, transfusing her unsullied blood to Nick. You probably saved his life. I¡¯m grateful¡ªtruly grateful for all you¡¯ve done.¡±


    ¡°And you¡¯re not angry, that she¡¯s still here, helping with the antidote.¡±


    Damon shrugged. ¡°She has a vested interest in Nick. I know she cares for him, in her own way.¡± He emphasized. ¡°I can hardly ask her to leave, after all she¡¯s done for him.¡±


    There was a quick knock at the door, and then without waiting for a response, Penelope was peeking in at them. ¡°Gentlemen, I believe we are ready,¡± she said brightly. Her honey-brown eyes looked hopeful. ¡°I¡¯d like to administer it now, if there are no objections.¡± She had caught Damon¡¯s eyes then, and Ryan had witnessed their silent exchange. The she-wolf was wise in obtaining Damon¡¯s consent first. It showed a measure of respect.


    In the living room, Penelope had taken up Damon¡¯s spot at Nick¡¯s side. She had a glass syringe containing a colorless liquid. Carefully, she injected it directly into the vein in Nick¡¯s left arm. His right arm was already receiving the blood transfusion.


    ¡°That should do for now. I¡¯ve enough for another dosage but I think it wise we wait and see how this affects him.¡± She stood and faced them then. ¡°There¡¯s not much more I can do for the moment I¡¯m afraid.¡±


    ¡°Would you like some tea?¡± Ryan offered. The she-wolf looked suddenly drained herself, now that she¡¯d completed the task at hand.


    ¡°That would be lovely. However, I think I will just head home.¡± She turned to Damon then. ¡°You¡¯ll call me if there¡¯s any change?¡±


    ¡°Of course, I¡¯ll see you to your car.¡±


    ***


    Together they walked down the hall in silence. They were waiting for the elevator when Penelope finally turned and addressed him.


    ¡°Come on now, out with it. Tell me what¡¯s on your mind. We both know you¡¯re not accompanying me out of the goodness of your heart.¡±


    Damon sighed and turned to face her. His voice was solemn but sincere. ¡°I want to thank you Penelope, for what you did for Nick.¡±


    His appreciation surprised her. The look on her face told him as much. ¡°I would do anything for Nick. I¡¯d thought you¡¯d know that by now.¡±


    When the doors opened, they rode the elevator down in silence. Once by her car, Damon brought up what was really on his mind.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t want to say anything in front of the others, but when I was acquiring the belladonna, the shopkeeper had me sign a ledger. He keeps track it seems, of whomever he sells his more questionable wares. Something I¡¯m sure you are aware of since you have procured wolfsbane from him on a regular basis.¡±


    Penelope was quick to interrupt him. ¡°What I do, is my own business. I don¡¯t answer to you, Damon.¡±


    He fixed her with an icy glare. ¡°I¡¯m not suggesting otherwise. I am going to insist however, that you keep Nick out of your affairs.¡±


    The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    ¡°Nick, need I remind you, is a grown man.¡±


    ¡°Nick is my son, my responsibility. Need I remind you; our bloodlines are maintaining a fragile truce¡ªit wouldn¡¯t bode well for either side to start making waves now.¡±


    ¡°Ah yes, our treaty¡ªjust how long has it been? I can never remember exactly¡ª OH, wait! How old is Nikolaus again?¡± her voice dripped sarcasm.


    Damon was quick to retort. ¡°We gave up something as equally precious.¡±


    ¡°Yes, of course, the elven child, Il¡¯landra¡ªAnson¡¯s ward. But there¡¯s one thing I¡¯ve always wondered about¡­ Why was it that you specifically, were left in charge of Nick¡ªsuch a precious commodity, when you¡¯ve never made it secret your hatred of my kind.¡±


    Damon too had admittedly spent a lot of time thinking about that as well. When his father, Anson, had placed Nick in his care they were about to part ways. Anson had achieved his goal in obtaining a treaty between the clans and the packs. He¡¯d been troubled by the loss of the seer-girl, his adopted daughter¡ªbut otherwise satisfied with the outcome of the treaty.


    Damon however, had been left feeling hollow and unfulfilled. All he¡¯d ever wanted was revenge against the beasts that had destroyed the one thing he¡¯d held dear. He had been a good son and an even better soldier; never questioning Anson¡¯s orders, even when the outcome put an end to the only thing that had kept him going. The answer he thought, was perhaps that Anson had realized that a man with nothing to live for, was a dangerous thing¡ªdestructive even. Forcing Damon to take charge of the wolven child had given his existence new meaning.


    The she-wolf wasn¡¯t finished however, and Damon steeled himself for whatever it was she was about to say next.


    ¡°You were Anson¡¯s most brutal, his most vicious of lieutenants, but when it comes to Nick and the way you¡¯ve selflessly raised him; the way you¡¯ve always protected him¡ªyou, are an amazing father. You aren¡¯t the same man who stormed the wolven keep all those years ago. I hope you realize that.¡±


    ***


    Nick was running, his dark hair flying back from his face, his feet dashing quickly through the grass. He¡¯d been following the riverbed, moving with the current towards the south-east. The farther he got, the more he left the lights of the city behind, but Nick¡¯s eyes were the eyes of a predator and had no problem showing him the way. Behind him, Jaylen was falling behind, his much shorter legs struggling to keep up. He could hear the boy panting, his breath ragged. Nick¡¯s own breathing was even and measured in comparison.


    ¡°Try to keep up Jaylen,¡± he called back encouragingly. He didn¡¯t want the young wolf falling too far behind. His body wasn¡¯t as conditioned as Nicks; but Jaylen hadn¡¯t been born a wolf like he had. Instead, he had been made when he¡¯d been mauled by a werewolf under the light of the full moon, when most werewolf attacks occurred. Jaylen never knew who turned him, and it was likely that whoever did, was as equally unaware. Even for Nick, those few nights of full moon left him with no more than a blur of fleeting images, scents, and sounds.


    Looking over his shoulder, Nick came to a full stop and waited for Jaylen to catch up. ¡°C¡¯mon,¡± he said lowering his large frame. "It¡¯s not much farther, you can ride the rest of the way.¡±


    With Jaylen on his back, Nick once more took off, his feet following the shoreline, the river a dark scar of quickly moving water beside him. They were coming up on national park land, where there was a campground: an area for picnicking, fishing, and a lock. At this time of year, the grounds would be closed; the summer season having ended, and both the maintenance building and lock would be deserted.


    Reaching the canal, Nick once more stopped, before dropping Jaylen to the ground. ¡°Did you cross here?¡± he asked as Jaylen nodded. Nick scanned the area carefully, smelling the air, looking for anything out of order, but everything appeared to be quiet. On the opposite side of the water, the lock house stood looking dark and abandoned, closed no doubt until spring.


    They crossed the dam, coming up close to the house on the other side. Making their way to the back of the building, Nick checked the door before deftly busting it open. It came easily under the weight of his shoulder.


    Inside, the main floor was all business. A couple of desks and some file cabinets sat behind a long counter. There was a waiting area: bright-yellow pleather covered chairs, a water cooler and a couple of vending machines that were set up for boaters who would be pleasure cruising during peak season. Maps and diagrams of the lock and how it worked hung on the wall. Pamphlets and leaflets sat along the top of the counter in plastic holders. Behind the counter, a set of stairs led to the upper level. Nick took the steps two at a time with Jaylen at his heels. Upstairs there were sleeping quarters. Four cots, stripped bare for the end of season, lined the wall on the left. To the right, was a kitchenette of sorts for the staff.


    ¡°Tell me again,¡± he said to Jaylen dropping down on one of the cots and motioning for him to do the same.


    Jaylen nodded, his voice husky as he spoke. ¡°There¡¯s something in the woods, outside the cabin. We¡¯ve seen it slinking out there in the shadows. We think it might be another wolf.¡± He lowered his voice. ¡°You know, like us.¡±


    Nick thought things through. If there was a werewolf in those woods other than the boys, then it would be a powerful one at that. His small group of boys¡ªthose turned and left orphaned¡ªdidn¡¯t yet possess the ability to transform unless under the light of the full moon. Even then, it wasn¡¯t voluntary. Tonight¡¯s waning moon was only half full. If there was a man-wolf lurking, then it had the ability to transform at will; something that could take decades to master. Unless of course, it was wolven born.


    ¡°Marcus said it wasn¡¯t anything he and Adam couldn¡¯t handle, but the rest of us are scared. I had C.J. keep an eye out for it while I snuck out. I made sure to keep downwind and then ran as fast as I could to find you.¡±


    ¡°You did well. You were brave to come get me.¡± Nick patted him affectionately on the shoulder. Marcus was one of the older boys. He and Adam usually assumed responsibility for the pack when Nick wasn¡¯t around. Many had been runaways, but Marcus had been running the streets in a gang when he had been turned. He had a harder edge to him than the other boys, who were mostly lost and just looking for a place to belong.


    Nick stood, preparing to leave. ¡°All right, you get some rest. I¡¯ll go check things out. I¡¯ll come back for you in the morning. You shouldn¡¯t be bothered here tonight.¡±


    ¡°But I want to come with you.¡± Jaylen protested. ¡°I want to help.¡±


    ¡°No. You¡¯ve done your part.¡± Nick said with a smile. ¡°Now let me do mine.¡± Jaylen, as enthusiastic as he was, would only slow him down. Besides, if there was a threat back at the cabin, he would be safer here; one less boy to worry about.


    Outside, Nick pulled the door closed behind him. On this side of the canal was a tiny rest area. A few wooden tables, trash barrels and hibachi grills were set up for picnickers. Beyond the picnic ground, there was a forested area and the beginnings of a series of old hiking trails that were now scarcely used. Nick once more began running, this time quickly weaving his way through the trees. Coming out on the other side was the shoreline and an old foot bridge. It had been marked as unsafe and been cordoned off to prevent any would-be hikers from traversing further. Downstream of the bridge, was a raging fall, where the current picked up dangerously.


    Nick slipped past the blockade crossing the rickety bridge to the other side. From here, he easily picked up the trail that would take him to the cabin; an abandoned ranger¡¯s station that had remained unused for the last decade once a modern replacement had been constructed. The new station lay several miles north and much closer to the old logging trails which were the only way to reach the reserve by vehicle.


    The slight wind, fleeting as she was, favored him tonight, blowing towards him when she was able, masking his scent from any predator he might be coming upon. A couple miles in he stopped at the edge of a clearing. The old cabin lay ahead. Inside, it was dimly lit, the windows barely aglow from lanterns within. Immediately Nick began skirting through the trees, searching for the hint of an intruder; but the earlier rain had left the area damp, the scents diluted. If there had been a man here, he had since moved on. With the fickle breeze dropping down there would be no air-driven scent for him to pick up.


    Nick began to strip down, pulling off his dark shirt, which was sweat damp from his earlier run. He could cover the ground in half the time in wolf form and his nose could detect scents in an almost visual sense, as if they were patterns of colour that had been splashed and strewn along the forest floor. Nick kicked off his sneaks, unbuttoned his fly and before his jeans were around his knees, leapt out of them in a graceful blur of silver and white. Nose to the ground, he soon found the place where someone had indeed been lurking, and for quite some time at that. Rising on his hind legs, he found a spot on the tree; a hand-print of smell where someone had leaned against it momentarily with a sweaty palm. The same scent led off into the trees, and on padded feet he followed.


    ***


    ¡°You got him? You¡¯re sure you got him?¡± The younger of two men asked as he lowered his night vision binoculars. He had lost sight of their quarry only short moments before.


    ¡°Calm down. I got a nice clean shot. Lilly here, never misses.¡± Jett said as he lowered his goggles and affectionately patted his crossbow.


    ¡°Lilly? Idiot! What has father told you about naming your weapons?¡±


    ¡°Relax, Jasper. All the best hunters do it.¡±


    ¡°You mean the crazy ones, don¡¯t you?¡± Jasper had once more raised his binoculars to scan the horizon for any sign of movement, but there was nothing. The forest was exceptionally quiet this night.


    ¡°Well, I reckon we all have to be a bit crazy to be in this line of work,¡± Jett said as he began collecting gear and slinging it over his shoulder. ¡°C¡¯mon, let¡¯s go finish the job.¡±


    ¡°Finish the job? I thought you said you got him.¡± Jasper said as he fell in line behind his older brother.


    ¡°I did, I did. I clipped him good.¡±


    Jasper stopped sharply and reached for his brother. Grasping his shoulder, he roughly turned him towards him. Anger and fear resonated in his voice. ¡°What do you mean, you clipped him?¡± he hissed. ¡°You said you had the shot.¡±


    Jett was grinning like a fool, delighted perhaps by his distress. ¡°Come, now. How is it at all sporting if I one shot him like that?¡± He reached to his belt and pulled out an ugly hunting knife. He held it up as he spoke. ¡°It isn¡¯t at all fun unless I get to drive the blade in myself, twist it for good measure and watch the light leave their eyes.¡±


    ¡°Sporting? Fun? This isn¡¯t a game, Jett. Why can¡¯t you understand that?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t you worry now,¡± Jett continued as he admired his blade. ¡°It¡¯s not like I didn¡¯t lace the thing. I may be a bit loco, as you suggest¡ªbut I¡¯m not stupid.¡±


    Jasper stared at him wide-eyed, a look of fear across his face. ¡°What? What is it now?¡±


    ¡°Your gloves,¡± Jasper replied meekly. ¡°You¡¯re not wearing your gloves.¡±


    Jett snorted. ¡°Stop worrying. I wore my gloves when I applied the poison¡ªif that¡¯s what you¡¯re concerned about.¡±


    ¡°And the bolt?¡± Jasper was licking his lips nervously as he glanced about at the surrounding shadows, as if he felt eyes upon him from everywhere at once. ¡°You wore your gloves when you handled the bolt as well?¡±


    The look of confidence faded from Jett¡¯s face only to be quickly replaced by one that wordlessly admitted to having just royally screwed up.


    ¡°Shit. Shit. Shit.¡± Jasper turned suddenly and began heading in the opposite direction.


    ¡°Hey.¡± Jett reached and grabbed Jasper by the arm. ¡°Where do you think you¡¯re going? The job¡¯s not done.¡±


    Jasper flung his brother¡¯s arm from him irritably. Tears of fear and anger burned his eyes. ¡°You idiot!¡± he whispered hoarsely. ¡°You¡¯ve killed us. Did you forget what it is we¡¯ve been hunting? How could you be so stupid? It has your scent now. We¡¯ve got to get out of here. Come back with Father¡ªcome back with a party. If we run now, maybe we can still make it.¡±


    ¡°Stop overreacting. We are not going anywhere. Father wouldn¡¯t run. He would stay and finish the job.¡±


    ¡°Father wouldn¡¯t have been so stupid as to slather his scent all over his arrow before firing it.¡± Jasper pulled out his cell phone and began scrolling through his contact list.


    ¡°What are you doing? Who are you calling?¡±


    ¡°Who do you think?¡±


    Jett reached out and snatched the cell phone from his brother¡¯s hand. He flung it angrily into the underbrush. ¡°I will finish this, with or without you. No stupid beast has ever got the best of me.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s just it. You¡¯ve underestimated our quarry. This isn¡¯t an ordinary beast we¡¯ve been tracking. We¡¯re in over our heads here. We should have never attempted this alone.¡±


    ¡°Speak for yourself.¡± Jett said stalking off in the direction he had last seen his prey. ¡°Run home to daddy with your tail between your legs if you like, but I¡¯m finishing what we started.¡±


    With that, he was gone, and Jasper was standing alone, in the still and the dark, the only light from the moon above. The wind picked up then, cooling his sweat damp skin and causing the gooseflesh to crawl. Searching the underbrush, he soon found his phone mercifully undamaged and immediately attempted to call for help¡ªbut there were no bars, reception this far out was nonexistent.


    ¡°Shit. Shit. Shit.¡± Jasper repeated, unsure of his next move. His instincts told him to flee. To run. To get as far away from this spot as it was humanly possible. But a second voice¡ªone that sounded an awful lot like his father¡ªwas scolding him for even thinking of abandoning his brother at a time like this. Finish what you¡¯ve started. It was saying, and although every measure of common sense told him to do otherwise, he found himself turning and following instead in his brother¡¯s footsteps.


    ***


    There was a motley collection of scents running amidst the hidden pathways of the forest. In one direction, there was the muted scent of man; not only the one he was following, but occasionally, when the wind picked up, the musky stink would come floating down on the breeze¡ªa hunting party perhaps? Intersecting this, were the scents of smaller beasts; rabbits, the fodder of the animal kingdom, crossed here on a regular basis. A stag too, had passed by earlier this evening, and Nick struggled to keep his wolf-self on point, forcing it to abandon the urge to pursuit.


    Concentrating, he forced Niko to stay on the task at hand, but the man scent was confusing. If it was a hunting party, then they had divided. The trail he¡¯d followed from the cabin, now headed off in an easterly direction, while the whiff on the breeze; a much more recent and pungent scent, was coming down from almost due north. He was trying to decide which to follow, when a sound; a distant twang and swoosh of rushing air caused his wolf to start. He dropped, but it wasn¡¯t enough to avoid the arrow which struck him hard in the shoulder, piercing his coat and lodging inside. He cried out; a startled yelp of pain, and it took every measure of control that Nick possessed, to stop his wolf-self from fleeing in blind terror. Almost immediately, a burning sensation, like molten metal erupted within his shoulder. Silver. He recognized the burn, had been cut by it before. Except this time, it was embedded deep within him, and the effects would soon be devastating. While it hadn¡¯t hit any vital organs, the silver itself could still prove deadly; it would continue to weaken him, sapping his strength and impeding his ability to heal.


    This was no typical hunter¡ªnot if he was using silver. It meant only one thing, he was out tracking wolves and the boys, his boys, were in trouble. Struggling to his feet, his shoulder aching with every step, he headed north. The hunter couldn¡¯t be far, 70 yards perhaps, more likely closer still. Forty yards ahead, he heard something, his wolf ears picking up, turning, focusing. Something was moving quietly through the underbrush ahead¡ªjust not quietly enough.


    Nick kicked his wolf into high gear closing the distance fast. Catching sight of a dark figure, he sprang; his wolf form changing in mid-air, easily doubling in size until he was now proportionate to that of a small bear. It was what Damon had affectionately dubbed his ¡°tank form¡± and while it lacked the speed and agility of his ¡°travel form¡± it more than made up for it with power and brute strength. The hunter hardly knew what hit him. In mere seconds, Niko had the man¡¯s throat in his jaws, even before they¡¯d hit the ground from the force of his impact.


    The wolf¡¯s jaws closed, teeth sinking easily into flesh. Ripping and tearing ensued. There was a gargling sound, a wet and sickly choking, as Niko finally released him, the hunter¡¯s hand coming up to his open throat. It wouldn¡¯t be long now. Death was imminent.


    The hunter however was smiling, a sick and gruesome sight. Blood, dark as oil was sliding down his neck; a slick waterfall, his teeth were full of blood. Triumphantly, he held up the bolt from the arrow, having pulled it free from the wolf¡¯s chest. Seconds later, his arm dropped heavily, the gurgling sound ceased, and the hunter lay still.


    Staggering, Niko turned and fled tail down. He changed form once more, conserving energy. One moment he was lumbering heavily, the next stride, daintily: the change happening as fluid motion. Numbness was beginning to span down across his leg. In one respect, it seemed to be dulling the sharp pains that were jarring out from his shoulder with each step. What he couldn¡¯t shake however was the sight of the hunter¡¯s face, so jubilant in his last few seconds of life. It could hardly bode well for him.

 FIVE

    Back at her dorm room, Allie stood contemplating before the narrow full-length mirror that hung on the back of her closet door. She held up dress after dress in front of herself, as she attempted to decide which she should wear for her date that evening.


    On the other side of the room her roommate Vanessa, was flopped out on her own bed, headphones on, as she perused a heavy oversized book. She was a slightly larger girl, dressed all in black, her long hair dyed the colour of ravens. Her natural hair colour: a much lighter brown, was beginning to peek out at the roots. Her top was low cut, revealing ample cleavage. A pendant: a crimson heart-shaped stone, encircled by two small pewter dragons and strung on a black ribbon, rested just above her bosom. Occasionally she would glance up from her book to watch Allie pick through her closet for yet another dress.


    ¡°You know,¡± Van said flatly, slipping off her earphones ¡°you¡¯d look great in any one of those.¡±


    Allie turned towards her roommate, a look of surprise on her face. It wasn¡¯t often that Vanessa offered up her opinion, and rarer still that it wasn¡¯t snarky and condescending.


    ¡°Oh, you think so?¡± Allie asked frowning at her reflection.


    ¡°Yeah, so what¡¯s the problem? You have half your closet thrown on your bed. Why can¡¯t you choose something?¡±


    Allie sighed as she let the dress she was holding drop down. ¡°I don¡¯t know, just nervous I guess.¡± She sat down on the edge of her own bed, facing Van. ¡°I¡¯ve never dated anyone other than Ethan.¡± She admitted. ¡°And I guess this,¡± she said with a sweep of her arm to the pile of clothes on the bed beside her, ¡°all feel like something I would wear for him.¡±


    Van looked at her thoughtfully. ¡°You must really like this new guy, huh?¡±


    Allie thought back to her time with Damon. How she had danced with Molly and her friends while he sat in the booth, watching and sipping his drink. There was something titillating in the way he stared; like she was his prey¡ªlike something he wanted to devour whole¡ªuntil finally, he had joined them. Shivers broke out across her skin as she recalled his touch, the way Damon had suddenly come up behind her, pressing up tight against her back, his arms encircling her. He pulled her in close to him, leaning down so that his cheek brushed against her own. She could feel his breath against her skin, as his lips began to gently tease her earlobe.


    He had awakened something in her that she couldn¡¯t quite explain; had made her feel more desired¡ªperhaps more alive than anyone ever had, and she wanted to experience that same feeling again. ¡°I really do,¡± Allie admitted. Her eyes dropped as she spoke. ¡°There¡¯s something so seductive and even a bit dangerous about him. He just makes me feel so¡­¡±


    ¡°Desirable.¡± Vanessa whispered, rising from her bed. She took the dress from Allie and tossed it to the bed with the rest of the clothing. She took Allie by the hands, pulling her to her feet as she sized her up. ¡°Right.¡± She said with a determined air. ¡°Let¡¯s do this.¡±


    ***


    Nick moaned softly in his sleep, his brow furrowing as he slowly regained consciousness. On the floor beside him, wedged between the couch and the coffee table, Damon had finally fallen asleep, his head leaning awkwardly against the armrest of the sofa.


    As Nick stirred, Damon too woke. He opened his eyes to see Nick¡¯s blue ones starring back at him. Sweet relief immediately flooded over him. He quickly pulled himself upright. ¡°Hey. How are you feeling?¡±


    On the far side of the room camped out on the loveseat, Nathan too was waking from under a blanket. The remaining piece of furniture and smallest in comparison was the easy chair, in which Ryan¡¯s large form was curled up. On the table next to him was a teacup and in his lap a magazine, still open to whatever article Ryan had been reading before he dozed off.


    ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡± Nick looked groggy and confused, as Damon rose, pushing the coffee table out of his way as he did.


    ¡°Why don¡¯t you tell us?¡± Ryan was suddenly leaning over him, taking up his wrist, shining a light in his eyes and checking his pulse.


    ¡°Well, it looks like a slumber party to me.¡± Nick said sitting up and swinging his feet to the floor. ¡°Are we going to braid each other¡¯s hair next and do our nails? Because you know, I could be down with that.¡±


    Ryan dropped his wrist as he stood, turning to Damon. ¡°Eyes look good. Pulse is strong and steady. Mouth is running at full capacity¡ªI¡¯d say your problem child is going to make a full recovery.¡± He clapped Damon sympathetically on the arm as he spoke. ¡°Best of luck with that.¡±


    Ryan moved to the balcony door and opened the heavy curtains. Night had descended while they slept. ¡°I¡¯ve got to head home, shower and change. Saturday night at the Pitt¡ªit¡¯s going to be busy.¡±


    Damon joined him on the balcony. His voice was low as they grasped hands and clasped each other across the back in a quick embrace. ¡°You have my thanks¡ª


    Stepping back to face him, Ryan quickly cut him off. ¡°No thanks necessary,¡± his voice was gentle and warm. ¡°The kid¡¯s family.¡±


    Across the room, Nathan was finally getting to his feet. ¡°Okay if I catch a ride?¡± Ryan nodded and beckoned him forward in response. Crossing the room, he paused awkwardly in front of Nick. ¡°See you at the Pitt later?¡± he asked meekly.


    Nate looked as tired and disheveled as Damon felt. His clothes were wrinkled from his nap on the love seat and his hair was wild and unruly. It was apparent that all three of them had lost sleep today.


    ¡°Sure. I¡¯ll be there.¡± Nick replied.


    ¡°No, you won¡¯t,¡± Damon said matter-of-factly, as he took Nathan by the arm and pulled him aside. Once more he lowered his voice as he spoke. ¡°Hey. We need to talk about what happened¡ª


    ¡°It was nothing,¡± Nate responded, cheeks flushed as he pulled his arm free.


    ¡°Nothing?¡± his brows raised as he watched Nathan squirm.


    ¡°Just a momentary lapse¡ªlisten, I gotta go or I¡¯m going to miss my ride.¡±


    Damon sighed, bringing his hand to his brow. There he pinched the skin between his eyes as he considered things. He was drained; exhausted and defeated, so he made the conscious decision to let things slide¡ªdeal with one delinquent at a time¡ªfor the moment at least.


    ¡°We are going to discuss this,¡± he called out to Nate, who making a break for it, was already perched precariously on the iron rail of his balcony. Ryan had previously dropped to the ground below. A second later Nate too was gone, leaving just the two of them.


    Damon turned back to Nick who was still on the sofa. The blanket that covered him was now draped across his lap. He could see that the bite and scratch marks that had covered his chest and arms had already healed. It was a good sign.


    ¡°You hungry?¡±


    ¡°Uh, yeah.¡± Nick looked up. ¡°Starving, actually.¡±


    ¡°What do you want? I¡¯ll order something in for you.¡± Damon went to the kitchen, where there was a drawer full of menu¡¯s and flyers from local eateries. ¡°Italian, or perhaps Chinese?¡±


    ¡°Chinese sounds good.¡± Nick was on his feet, blanket wrapped around his hips as he joined him in the kitchen.


    ¡°Okay, which would you prefer? Jade Dragon, or Lucky Panda?¡± He held two brightly coloured menu¡¯s in his hand.


    ¡°Really?¡± Nick asked, giving him a look.


    ¡°Lucky Panda it is. Want your usual?¡± Damon, cell phone in hand, was already dialing. He glanced up in time to catch Nick smelling his armpit, his nose wrinkled with distaste.


    ¡°Sure. I¡¯m gonna take a quick shower.¡±


    ¡°Yes. Please do.¡± He said with the appropriate amount of snarky in his voice. The disgruntled look he received in exchange made the stress and worry of the day worth it. Nick was going to be okay.


    ***


    In the bathroom, Nick stared at his reflection in the mirror. He could see faint marks across his body; areas of pink, newly healed skin that told the story of the previous night¡¯s endeavors. By morning, even they would be gone. He wondered how much Damon knew. There would be questions, but for now, Damon was playing it cool. That wouldn¡¯t last however, and Nick would be forced to come up with an answer that would satisfy his overprotective guardian.


    Two bandages graced his body: a large one on his shoulder, the other on his opposite hip. He worked at the one on his side first, pulling back the tape that secured it and peeking beneath. The wound there was almost entirely healed. Carefully he pulled it off the rest of the way, wincing slightly as it grabbed at his skin. It was remarkably really, how little body hair he had, considering his pedigree. He¡¯d known wolven males who were literally quite hairy in both their forms. Nick on the other hand, struggled to grow a beard. He could go days without shaving, only to be rewarded with patchy spots at best.


    He discarded the bandage into the waste bucket before turning his attention to the one at his shoulder. Beneath this dressing, he could see ugly stitch marks where a larger wound had been sewn closed. That one, he realized would take longer to heal. He pressed the tape back down before turning on the shower behind him and stepping in.


    He let the hot water cascade over him as the steam rose, quickly fogging up the glass. While his wounds had mostly healed, his muscles still ached, remembering their ordeal from the previous night. He only wished that his mind too, remembered.


    There were bits and pieces of course. They came in fragments, as unfamiliar moments that seemed to belong to someone else: a bloody smile, tearing and snarling teeth, a black wolf. What it all meant however was lost to him. It seemed his wolf self was trying to hide the worst of that night from him, perhaps to protect him. The truth was, he couldn¡¯t remember how he had made it home last night.


    Stepping out of the shower, Nick shook his head, spraying droplets of water across the vanity and mirror. Wiping a spot clear in the fog covered glass, he took a moment to grab a comb from the drawer before running it through his dark mane. Naked, he stepped into the hall, stopping briefly to grab a towel from the adjacent closet. He began drying off as he headed down the hall to Damon¡¯s bedroom. He flipped the light switch as he entered the room. There was no overhead light in the older room. Instead an antique floor lamp on the far side of the room came to life. Its glow was mellow and unobtrusive to even the most sensitive of eyes.


    Searching through the dresser, Nick soon picked out a pair of navy gym shorts and a charcoal-grey Henley which he immediately slipped on before heading out to the living room to find Damon.


    ***


    While Nick cleaned up his act, Damon busied himself by cleaning up the living room: tossing out the bloody towels and used supplies. He righted furniture, returning it to its original position, folded blankets and put the Tupperware of medical supplies away. When he was finished, his living space once more resembled its usual state of order and less like the war zone of moments before.


    He was sitting in the easy chair, watching the evening news when Nick returned from his shower. As soon as Nick dropped onto the sofa, he passed him his phone.


    ¡°You need to call Vaughn,¡± he informed him.


    Nick took the phone but not without question. ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°Because I told her you would.¡±


    Nick was hesitant, ¡°So, uh, Penn¡­she was here?¡±


    ¡°Yep. You¡¯ve got about a quart of her running through your veins,¡± Damon said as he examined Nicks face. He looked positively uncomfortable. It was rare for Nick¡¯s cocky self-assured smile to leave his face, but Damon knew that when it came to Penelope, Nick felt neither of those things. He suspected that Nick was more than a bit smitten with the elder wolf, though he had never admitted as much. ¡°She helped save your life.¡±


    Nick sighed as he disappeared back up the stairs and into Damon¡¯s bedroom, taking the phone with him. When he returned a few minutes later, to once more take up his spot on the sofa, Damon snapped off the flat screen, pulled his chair forward and turned to face him. He dropped the arrowhead on the coffee table between them.


    ¡°Let¡¯s have it,¡± He said with a look and calmness that made Nick cringe. At times, it was hard for him to look at Nick, and still not see the child he had raised.


    ¡°I honestly, don¡¯t know,¡± Nick began with a shrug. ¡°I can¡¯t even explain how I got here.¡±


    His response didn¡¯t surprise Damon. Nick often spoke of his alter self as if it was a completely independent identity, with its own impulses, drives and memories. He¡¯d often complained that the gap within his dualitiy seemed to directly coincide with the phases of the moon¡ªand if that was indeed the case, Damon surmised that the events of last night shouldn¡¯t be too hard to dislodge from that thick skull of his. Last nights moon, had been only half full.


    ¡°So, start with what you do remember then.¡± Damon encouraged. ¡°Where were you last night?¡±


    ¡°The Pitt.¡±


    Damon¡¯s brow arched in surprise. He couldn¡¯t recall seeing Nick at all last night. While it was true that he¡¯d spent a good part of the evening playing cards in back, it was still unusual that they hadn¡¯t crossed paths at least once that evening.


    ¡°I don¡¯t remember seeing you.¡± his words were cautious.


    Nick¡¯s words were nervous. ¡°I¡¯, uh, left early to help a friend.¡±


    ¡°Oh? Which friend?¡¯ He fixed Nick with a look. Only hours earlier, the pup had descended upon his doorstep, a mangled and bloody mess. There was no way he was letting him off that easily.


    ¡°You don¡¯t know him¡ª¡±


    ¡°Try me.¡±


    Nick licked his lips nervously.  ¡°Jaylen.¡±


    ¡°The wolf cub.¡±


    Nick dropped his eyes, looking defeated. ¡°Uh, yeah.¡±


    ¡°So, you were up at that cabin,¡± Damon stated matter-of-factly.


    Nick was dumbfounded. ¡°You know about the cabin?¡±


    Damon sighed, finally breaking his gaze. ¡°Of course, I know about the cabin, Nick. I know about those wolf-boys you¡¯ve been running around with. What I don¡¯t know, is what the hell you were thinking, and why you felt you had to hide it from me.¡± He shifted irritably in his seat. ¡°Is Penelope involved in this?¡± It wasn¡¯t like he needed another reason to hate on the she-wolf.


    Nick shook his head adamantly. ¡°No. Absolutely not. Penn doesn¡¯t believe in inter-city packs. She says that they¡¯re no better than gangs and that without a proper alpha, all you have is a group of hoodlums, which can only lead to violence and crime, and before you know it, turf wars with the vamps.¡±


    If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.


    For a moment, Damon was speechless. Once more the she-wolf surprised him. ¡°She¡¯s probably right.¡±


    ¡°But that¡¯s not what I was trying to accomplish.¡± Nick attempted to explain. ¡°I was just trying to help those kids understand what was happening to them¡­ perhaps give them a place to call home. That¡¯s why I chose the cabin. It¡¯s isolated; far enough from the city that if a wolf got out under the full moon, the only thing that¡¯s going to get injured is a rabbit or two. Worst case, a deer. Their wolf would be distracted by the sounds and smells of the forest, and its instincts would keep it as far away from civilization as possible.¡± There was a bitterness in his voice as he continued. ¡°Those boys didn¡¯t ask for what happened to them. They were turned and abandoned. It just¡­wasn¡¯t right.¡±


    Damon realized that Nick was being sincere. It was a step in the right direction, and it was hard to stay angry with him, especially when his bleeding heart was in the right place. Still, something had happened at that cabin¡ª


    A knock at the door forced the end of their conversation, as Nick bolted off the sofa like a child escaping a time out. Damon was once more reminded of how bloody quick wolven could heal.


    He reached the kitchen as Nick was opening the door.


    ¡°Food¡¯s here,¡± Nick called as he invited the delivery guy into the apartment. He grabbed the bag of food and disappeared down to the living room.


    Damon greeted the delivery guy as he fished out money from the cow-shaped cookie jar on the kitchen counter. He paid the delivery boy; a twenty-something Asian man that he recognized and, tipped him a fifty, before holding up a second bill. ¡°Interested in making a quick buck?¡± he asked as he tapped the side of his neck.


    When the man nodded, Damon wasted no time. He slammed him up against the door and wrenched his head aside. He ran his finger along his now exposed neck, feeling the rhythm of his heartbeat increase. Although the man had consented, the reality of what was now happening had him terrified. Damon¡¯s fangs descended and he pierced flesh. His racing pulse would make feeding from him so much easier; the man¡¯s rapid heart would now do most of the work.


    Moments later, he heard Nick in the kitchen behind them.


    ¡°Seriously, Dude?¡± He sounded disgruntled. ¡°No chopsticks?¡±


    The delivery boy, head now lolled back in delirious ecstasy, his hand clutching the shoulder of Damon¡¯s shirt for support, held out a second smaller bag in his opposite hand.


    ¡°Thanks, man.¡± Nick said slapping the delivery boy on the shoulder before heading back down to the living room. ¡°Oh, my God!¡± Nick shortly exclaimed, his mouth sounded full of food. ¡°Best noodles ever!¡±


    Damon soon pulled himself away from the delivery man. Feeding from the living was always a delicate matter. He had to be careful not to take too much, which often meant drawing away before he was satisfied. Damon enjoyed the taste of human blood almost as much as the intimacy involved in getting it. The feeling of warm supple flesh against him, the sound of a racing heartbeat, the delicate or sometimes musky scent of their skin; it was almost as much of an addiction as the blood drinking itself¡ªand not only for himself, he surmised. The delivery man was still gripping him, eyes closed, basking in the euphoria he was experiencing. For the humans too, the act of the bloodletting could be as equally addictive.


    When the delivery-boy finally opened his eyes moments later, Damon paid him for his services before compelling him to silence and sending him on his way.


    ***


    Allie couldn¡¯t believe the transformation. At first, she had been hesitant when Van had offered to make her over. Although they had been roommates for a couple months now, neither of them seemed to have much in common with the other. But what she had done was exactly what Allie had been looking for. Van had gone to her closet and picked out a black tunic with long sleeves and an asymmetrical hemline. It was a shirt on Vanessa, but on Allie is was a short and very sexy dress. It could be tied in at the back, emphasizing her waistline, until it flared out at her hips in a double layered skirt. The long sleeves had peek-a-boo holes up the sides, revealing skin and fitting snugly until it reached her wrists where it once again flared out ever so slightly over the back of her hands. It was low cut in the front, ending in a deep v between her breasts, where it was laced with a black ribbon, that allowed the wearer to reveal as little or as much skin as they desired.


    Her hair, had been left long and straight, parted off-center with a cascade braid falling on either side and eventually joining up in the back. Her make-up was darker than Allie had ever worn it before; her eyes were done in a shimmery Smokey-eye of dark silver and black. Her lips, Van had wanted to paint a dark red, however Allie had refused. Instead she chose a barely-there gloss in a champagne colour.


    This look was something that she would never wear for Ethan, but it was dark and sexy and perfect for Damon. She was excited to be seeing him again, and when she thought of doing just that, a deliciously nervous feeling rose from the pit of her stomach.


    Allie glanced at the clock. It was just after eight. As soon as Van had finished her make-over, she¡¯d quickly changed and left for her job. She worked weekends at a private club, of which Allie couldn¡¯t remember the name. Her shift usually had her leaving late and often not returning until daybreak. Allie assumed that she had a boyfriend whom she stayed with afterwards and had even asked her once, to which Van had only smiled coyly.


    ¡°A boyfriend?¡± she had repeated quietly. ¡°No. That I don¡¯t have. Although I do have a lover.¡± Van¡¯s eyes had sparkled as she spoke of him. ¡°He¡¯s a much older man, and our relationship¡­well, I doubt you¡¯d understand.¡±


    Van¡¯s attitude made Allie wonder if he was not only older, but perhaps married as well. It seemed to her at least, to be the most likely explanation for all the secrecy.


    Allie spent the next few minutes tidying up her side of the room, returning clothes to hangers and then to their rightful place in her closet. Sitting on the edge of her bed, she then slipped on a pair of thigh-high stockings that Van had lent her, before examining herself once more in the mirror. She liked how the stockings stopped just at the hem of her skirt. They were school-girlish and scandalous both at the same time. For shoes, she was on her own. Van was much taller and any of her shoes were at least two sizes too large for Allie. Still, she thought she had the perfect pair of ankle boots that would work well enough to complete the look.


    She was digging under her bed for the shoes, when the phone on her desk came to life. She snatched it up and smiled as she saw Faith¡¯s name as the caller identity in question.


    ¡°Haaay,¡± She said joyfully, unable to contain her excitement.


    ¡°What¡¯cha up to?¡± Faith¡¯s voice asked sounding crystal clear and completely bored.


    ¡°Just finished getting ready for my date. You?¡±


    ¡°Cashing out the till.  We just closed up shop.¡±


    ¡°We?¡± Faith worked nights at her family¡¯s store after school. She seemed to share the shifts with her younger cousin. ¡°You and¡­ Trish?¡±


    ¡°Tish¡± Faith corrected her. ¡°And no, if Tish was working, I¡¯d be done by now. Instead I¡¯m stuck working with my Uncle and just between you and me, his presence here is more of a nuisance than a help.¡±


    ¡°I heard that!¡±


    Allie smiled as she overheard the male voice in the background. The next moment they were arguing in a teasing sort of way that made her immediately homesick.


    ¡°Sorry about that,¡± Faith said resuming their conversation. ¡°So, are you meeting him at the Pitt?¡±


    Allie, on the floor of her room, straightened up after finally retrieving her shoes. ¡°Yup. Going to cab it over, have a few drinks and see where the night leads us.¡± Allie said in her most mischievous voice.


    ¡°Why you little tart.¡± Faith said in a hushed tone. ¡°Well, don¡¯t do anything I wouldn¡¯t do.¡±


    Allie couldn¡¯t help but giggle with her parting words. ¡°Fortunately for me, that leaves things wide open.¡±


    ***


    After dinner, Damon descended to the living room carrying a bottle of amber coloured liquor and two glasses. He set them down upon the coffee table amongst the take-out cartons before dropping down onto the sofa beside Nick. Uncapping the bottle he poured them each a drink, sliding one of them in Nick¡¯s direction.


    Nick looked at his glass a bit suspiciously before he picked it up. ¡°I¡¯m not really a hard liquor sort of guy.¡± He stated flatly.


    ¡°Come on, have a drink with me.¡± Damon encouraged him. ¡°It¡¯s been one hell of a day.¡± Without waiting for an answer, he clinked glasses with Nick before taking a healthy sip of his drink. He smiled when Nick took a generous swig himself before exhaling with enthusiasm.


    ¡°Whoo! That is something.¡±


    ¡°Yeah. It¡¯ll get the job done.¡±


    ¡°Remove paint too,¡± Nick agreed before tossing back the rest of his drink.


    Damon quickly followed suit, and when Nick set his glass back down, he immediately poured them both a second round.


    Nick¡¯s suspicions now seemed confirmed. ¡°If I didn¡¯t know better, I¡¯d think you were trying to get me drunk.¡±


    ¡°Obviously,¡± Damon smiled. ¡°You¡¯re more malleable that way.¡±


    ¡°Malleable?¡±


    ¡°Do you prefer pliable?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d prefer to know what you¡¯re up to.¡±


    Damon picked up the arrowhead from its place on the table. He held it up gingerly as he spoke. ¡°This was no accident, Nick. A silver arrowhead filled with wolfsbane poison. This was a hit, and you barely survived. We need to know what we are up against; what kind of threat we¡¯re facing and get ahead of it if we can.¡± As he returned the arrowhead to the table, his voice was grave. ¡°We need to know what happened in the wood last night.¡±


    Nick looked grim, ¡°So, what are you thinking?¡±


    Damon leaned forward as he turned to face Nick. He¡¯d gotten the idea after his meal of delivery boy. ¡°I want to try to compel you to remember.¡±


    Nick reached for his glass, apparently needing that second drink after all. He took a healthy swig before speaking. ¡°Is that even possible?¡±


    Damon shrugged. ¡°I think it¡¯s worth a try. I mean, you¡¯d have to be open to it¡ªthat is, to letting me into your head. I doubt it would work otherwise.¡±


    ¡°And the alcohol?¡± Nick asked as he finished his glass.


    Damon picked up his own glass and shrugged. ¡°Can¡¯t hurt.¡±


    ***


    Another drink later, Nick found himself stretched out on the sofa with a pillow beneath his head. Damon had dimmed the lights and slid his easy chair up to the edge of the sofa beside him.


    ¡°Are you sure you¡¯re comfortable?¡± Damon asked. ¡°I could fetch a blanket.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m as comfortable as I¡¯m gonna be with you fawning over me like this.¡± Nick retorted.


    ¡°I¡¯m just trying to help. This won¡¯t work if you¡¯re not relaxed.¡±


    ¡°If it works at all, you mean,¡± Nick wasn¡¯t completely sold on the idea, but Damon had been insistent. The idea of letting someone mess around with his head¡ªeven if it was Damon, left him uneasy.


    Damon however, seemed more than eager to get things rolling. ¡°Okay, just relax, listen to my voice and we¡¯ll start from the beginning. You met up with Jaylen and together the two of you went to that cabin in the woods.¡±


    Nick frowned. ¡°No. That¡¯s not what happened. I left him behind, at the lock-house. I didn¡¯t want him to get hurt.¡±


    ¡°Why did you think he would be hurt?¡± Damon¡¯s voice was low and soothing.


    ¡°Because of the wolf. When Jaylen met up with me, he said that he and the boys spotted a wolf slinking around the cabin and they were afraid that it was a werewolf.¡±


    ¡°Alright. So, you went to the cabin to search for the wolf.¡±


    Nick closed his eyes and nodded.


    ¡°Walk me through it, step by step. Tell me what you did first.¡±


    ¡°Well, first I got undressed¡ª.¡±


    ¡°Naked. I might have guessed.¡±


    There was a hint of smug amusement in his voice that didn¡¯t sit well with Nick. ¡°Well, you asked.¡± Nick retorted sitting up. ¡°This is waste of time. I just don¡¯t remember anything after my wolf took over.¡±


    Damon placed a gentle hand on Nick¡¯s chest before pushing him back down. ¡°You will.¡± He said patiently. He tapped Nick on the noggin. ¡°It¡¯s in here somewhere. You and your wolf are one and the same. You know what he knows. Now let¡¯s try again.¡±


    Nick sighed but closed his eyes and settled back into the sofa as instructed.


    ¡°Hey. Do you remember the nanny you had when we stayed in London? It wasn¡¯t long after we fled Cairnbarrow.¡±


    Nick opened his eyes in surprise, to find Damon staring at him intently. His green eyes were overwhelming¡ªpiercingly so¡ªhis gaze intensely strong. So caught in their depths, he failed to notice Damon¡¯s lips moving or the words that he carefully whispered.


    Nick blinked. ¡°London?¡± He hadn¡¯t thought about that in over a century. It was so long ago. ¡°Which one?¡± he asked surprised. ¡°Cook-nanny, or spinster-nanny.¡±


    ¡°Wait¡ªCook-nanny?¡± It was now Damon who looked surprised.


    ¡°Yeah. We had two, remember. Spinster nanny was certain that she would eventually marry you and ship me off to boarding school. After you sacked her, there was cook nanny. She was the one who kept trying to feed you cause she thought you were too skinny.¡±


    A look of recollection crossed Damon¡¯s eyes. ¡°I had completely forgotten about cook-nanny. Yeah, no. I was thinking about spinster-nanny.¡±


    ¡°What about her?¡± Nick had no idea where this strange conversation was heading. The woman in question had been dead for over a century.


    ¡°I was just thinking about how whenever she went out to do the shopping, I¡¯d let you run around the house in wolf form and how she¡¯d get so frustrated when she got back to find dog hair everywhere. It used to drive her crazy. She couldn¡¯t understand where it came from: it was down the hallway, all over the furniture¡ª¡±


    ¡°In her bed,¡± Nick chimed in.


    ¡°Her bed?¡±


    ¡°I used to roll around in her bed.¡± Nick said with a smirk. ¡°She wasn¡¯t a nice person, Damon. She was a horrible care-giver.¡±


    ¡°But you remember that?¡±


    ¡°Of course, I remember. You were gone all the time, days and nights, sometimes weeks I was left alone with her¡ª¡±


    Damon shook his head. ¡°No. I mean, you remember rolling in her bed, as a wolf pup. I don¡¯t know if you realize this, but when you were a child there was no separation between you and your wolf. You were one and the same; if you can recall something that happened well over a century ago¡ª¡±


    ¡°Then I can remember last night.¡±


    Damon was smiling at him. ¡°You can remember last night. Are you ready to try again?¡±


    Nick nodded and settling back into the sofa, closed his eyes.


    Once more, Damon set the scene. ¡°Alright, so you are alone in the woods. It¡¯s dark out. Do you see the cabin?¡±


    Nick took a deep breath and tried to relax. He tried to picture the one-story stone and wood structure with its pane glass windows and wrap around porch. ¡°Yes. I can see it. It¡¯s quiet and dark, but I can see lantern light from within.¡±


    ¡°And what happens next?¡±


    ¡°I get undressed, and I let my wolf take charge. There are smells everywhere: wildlife, damp soil, wet trees and foliage¡ªand man smells.¡± Now that he was no longer fighting the process, memories began to take shape. Nick was slowly starting to remember. It was strange how his viewpoint was suddenly so low to the ground. As he spoke the images became clearer, more vivid. ¡°I have a scent, its coming on the wind, so I head in that direction.¡± He remembered running through the long grass, turning sharply around trees and brush as he closed in on the scent and then an unnatural sound¡ª


    Nick winced and grabbed his damaged shoulder, sucking in air as he did. ¡°Shit. I¡¯m hit. It burns.¡± He struggled to breathe as pain radiated down his side, it was overwhelming. Damon took his hand, squeezing it tight.


    ¡°Nick, listen to me. You¡¯re safe.¡± Damon told him. ¡°Listen to my voice. Let go of the pain. You don¡¯t need to remember the pain.¡± Damon¡¯s hand was in his hair, petting him gently. He hated that he liked his head stroked as much as his wolf did, but it worked. He found it immediately calming. After a moment, Damon spoke again. ¡°Do you want to continue?¡±


    Nick nodded. He was ready.


    ¡°What happens next?¡±


    He was now running full tilt with a sudden feeling of urgency. ¡°I¡¯ve located him. I¡¯ve found the hunter.¡±


    Nick could remember leaping, the weight of his body knocking the hunter down. How Niko had lunged at the man¡¯s throat and grabbed hold. How his teeth had sunk easily into flesh, and how the hunter¡¯s blood had leaked into his mouth. There was no turning back after that¡ªhis wolf¡¯s prey-drive had completely taken over. Holding tight, he began to viciously pull and twist causing the seized flesh to tear¡ª


    Nick leapt from the sofa, hand over mouth, he raced to the bathroom just making it in time. So much for his dinner. When he was finished, he looked up to see Damon in the doorway.


    ¡°I remember.¡± Nick said hoarsely. ¡°I killed him. I killed the hunter.¡± He leaned back against the counter, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.


    ¡°You¡¯re sure he¡¯s dead?¡± Damon looked grim, but relieved.


    ¡°Pretty sure. I ripped his throat clean open.¡± Now he couldn¡¯t get the grisly vision out of his head: the horrible blood-filled smile, the desperate gurgling sound as the hunter choked on his own blood. ¡°I watched the light leave his eyes. He was dead when I left him.¡± The impact, the totality of what he had done was wearing on him fast. He¡¯d taken a life. Killed a man. Somebody¡¯s son. Somebody¡¯s father. Somebody¡¯s brother.


    He leaned forward, head in his hands. ¡°Can we be done now?¡± He begged. ¡°I¡¯ve done what you asked. I¡¯ve remembered¡ªhe¡¯s no longer a threat to us.¡±


    ***


    Damon dropped to a squat in front of Nick and pulled his hands from his face, before replacing them with his own. He kissed the top of his head, and then leaned down until their foreheads were touching. ¡°Of course, Nick.¡± He said softly, ¡°I¡¯m sorry you had to go through that, but I needed to be sure.¡±


    Releasing Nick, he rose and extended his arm, to pull him to his feet. He headed into the hall, and when he realized Nick hadn¡¯t immediately followed, he retraced his steps. He peeked back into the bathroom.


    Nick was standing solemnly in front of the mirror.


    ¡°Hey. You okay?¡±


    Nick continued to stare into the mirror, leaning heavily on his arms; hands placed on either side of one of the sinks.


    ¡°Nick?¡±


    He seemed to start then, as if coming out of a daze. He didn¡¯t turn, but instead met his gaze in the mirror. ¡°Yeah?¡±


    ¡°You, coming?¡±


    Nick nodded. ¡°Yeah. I¡¯m¡­ just gonna brush my teeth.¡± He smiled at him then, but the result was rather lackluster compared to his usually bright and infectious grin.


    ¡°Okay.¡± Damon lingered in the doorway. ¡°You sure, you¡¯re okay?¡±


    Nick looked genuinely surprised. ¡°Sure.¡± He opened the drawer and pulled out his toothbrush and a tube of paste. He made a show of overloading his toothbrush before shoving it in his mouth and ending any further conversation.


    Damon returned to the living room. He slid the coffee table back to its spot in front of the sofa, before gathering up the cartons of left-over Chinese and carrying them up to the kitchen. There he consolidated what he could into two remaining containers before pitching the rest. Opening the refrigerator, he stashed the boxes of take-out within. The inside of his fridge looked like it belonged to the proverbial bachelor¡ªwith the addition of a few more unorthodox provisions. Nearly barren of food, it instead held: two wilted looking limes, a quartet of beer, one rather fuzzy looking container of salsa, a half jar of dill pickles and two pints of O+ blood. He threw the door closed and returned to the living room.


    ¡°We¡¯re going to have to order some groceries.¡± He called out as he descended the stairs. ¡°With you being away, I¡¯m afraid there¡¯s not much here for you to eat.¡±


    Nick who was now sitting silently on the sofa, said nothing. Instead, he appeared to be deep in thought as he stared at the blank television screen.


    ¡°Do you want to watch some television?¡± He dropped down on the sofa beside him and offered him the remote. What was it the kids were always saying? ¡°We could Webflicks and chill?¡±


    Nick looked at him as if he had sprouted a second head. ¡°I don¡¯t think you know what that means.¡±


    ¡°Oh?¡±


    ¡°I think,¡± Nick said quietly, ¡°That I¡¯d like to head to bed.¡±


    ¡°Okay.¡± Damon nodded, understanding.


    Damon took his turn in the bathroom. When he finished brushing his teeth, he retired to his room to find that Nick had already climbed into bed. He had taken up a spot on the farthest side, his back turned to him. Quietly, Damon stripped down to his boxers and threw on a tee, before climbing in on his own side of the bed. He lay quietly for a while but could tell by Nick¡¯s breathing that he was still fully awake.


    He turned on his side to face him. ¡°Are you really okay?¡± There was more to the story¡ªmuch more than what Nick had offered up. After all, those scratches and bite marks hadn¡¯t come from any hunter.


    Nick shrugged in the darkness. ¡°Sure.¡± His voice was quiet, distant.


    Damon sighed. He¡¯d be getting nothing more from him tonight. ¡°Sweet dreams, then.¡± Reaching out, he tousled his hair affectionately, before rolling over.


    From the opposite side of the bed, Nick stared into darkness. Sweet dreams were the last thing he was anticipating. Instead, he kept replaying the lost images over and over in his mind. Damon¡¯s experiment at memory recall had worked better than expected. He had remembered much more than what he had been willing to admit to Damon. The truth was, he had remembered everything.

 SIX

    Niko was retracing his steps, his footing unsteady as he made his way gingerly through the underbrush towards the cabin. His shoulder and leg were now completely numb. It allowed him to continue, masking the burn of the silver and the sharp jagged pains that stabbed him with every step.


    For the moment it was the least of his concerns. His mind was a whirlwind of thoughts. He would have to move the boys. Immediately. Tonight. They were no longer safe in their little cabin in the woods. Nick had no way of knowing whether that hunter was alone, or with a party, and he was in no condition to find out. His shoulder although numb from the pain, was a bloody, sticky mess. Too much blood loss would render him unconscious¡ªuseless in protecting the boys. With this foremost in mind, he moved as swiftly as he dared, knowing that a racing heart, a rapid beat would only serve to pump the blood from him even quicker. Instead he¡¯d forced his wolf to a slow and steady pace while his frantic mind contemplated his options.


    They would have to pack light, take only the essentials: whatever they could fit into a small pack. If there was a hunting party¡ªand Nick doubted that this hunter would be working alone¡ªthey could be quick on his trail. Getting a group of dysfunctional teens on the move in the middle of the night would be no small feat. They would have questions and there would be no time for answers. Their best option would be to head to the lockhouse for the night. There would be medical supplies and water in which to clean himself up. At daybreak, they could move to the city, where it would be harder for them to be tracked.


    Nick had finally reached the clearing and up ahead, the cabin. He immediately returned to the spot where he¡¯d left his clothes, only to find they were now gone. Instead, he found a familiar scent; the muted smell from before was now back, stronger than ever. Whatever had been watching the boys had returned. Silently, he slunk through the shadows along the side of the cabin. He rounded the corner cautiously to find a dark figure upon the porch, waiting for him.


    Nick¡¯s wolf growled a warning. The man¡¯s proximity to the boys warranted it. He raised his hackles as he approached, teeth bared. His wolf meant business and he wanted this stranger to understand that.


    Instead of looking wary. The man seemed happy by the exchange. Like the challenge was exactly what he had been hoping for. He was mid-forties and of medium height and build. His dark hair, long and scraggly was streaked with gray. His chin was covered in a week¡¯s worth of stubble and like the hair upon his head, it had seen little care.


    ¡°It¡¯s Nick, right?¡± He called out with a crooked smile. He took a step forward, to lean on the rail by the stairs. ¡°Looks like you¡¯ve had quite the night.¡±


    Nick¡¯s wolf faltered. There was only one way he could have known his name. He¡¯d already had contact with the boys.


    ¡°You didn¡¯t happen to run into my¡­ friends, now did you?¡± He asked as he laughed wickedly. ¡°You did, didn¡¯t you? Did you take care of them for me?¡±


    The man then whooped like a lunatic and a chill coursed down Nick¡¯s back. While he had indeed killed the man who had shot him, he¡¯d taken no pleasure in doing so. But this man, was clearly delighted by the prospect of the hunter¡¯s demise.


    ¡°I suppose I should thank you for that. Yet, it still doesn¡¯t make up for what you did!¡± The hunter¡¯s voice lost all jollity as he continued. Instead, anger consumed his words. ¡°Taking my pack! Without cause! Without a fight! Them boys is mine! I made¡¯em and you had no business interfering.¡±


    He took a step back. The man was clearly deranged. If what he said was true¡­that it wasn¡¯t by accident¡ªthat he had purposely turned those boys¡ªthen he had mauled children and then left them to die. Nick had assumed that they had been attacked by a wolf under the influence of the full moon, but this¡­this was far worse, for who would intentionally do this to a child?


    The hunter wasn¡¯t finished. Stepping back quickly, he began pounding loudly against the door. ¡°Boys! Boys, get out here! Now!¡±


    Almost immediately, they appeared. Marcus and Adam, both bare-chested came out to stand by the stranger. Behind them came the three younger teens that Nick had fostered, as well as two older ones that Nick had never seen before. Marcus was glaring at Nick with anger in his eyes.


    You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.


    ¡°The deceiver has returned!¡± The stranger bellowed, throwing his arms up into the air, like a wayward preacher. ¡°Retribution is at hand.¡± He placed a gentle hand upon Marcus¡¯s and then Adam¡¯s shoulder. ¡°It is time for you to take back your power.¡±


    ¡°You lied to us,¡± Marcus spat the words at him. ¡°Keeping us weak; making us drink your stupid tea. Why? Why would you do that?¡±


    ¡°Because he is the one who is weak, afraid of what you could become. A true Alpha doesn¡¯t fear his pack but inspires them to greatness. Now it¡¯s time to show me that you want that greatness.¡± He turned to the older boys in back. One of them reached forward to hand him something.


    The stranger held up two glass vials. Inside each was a milky-white luminescent liquid. ¡°I will give you the power you need, but you must prove to me your loyalty.¡± He said as he handed one each to Marcus and Adam.


    Immediately, Marcus uncorked the top of his, while Adam seemed to hesitate. ¡°Come with me brother,¡± Marcus said as he tipped up his flask, quickly swallowing it. He smiled at Adam. It seemed to be all the encouragement he needed as Adam too uncorked his vial and quickly downed its contents. Almost in unison, the boys keeled over, grasping at their sides as if in pain.


    Nick moved forward as it seemed very likely that this stranger had just poisoned the boys¡ªonly to stop dead in his tracks.


    The boys who had fallen to their knees suddenly screamed as they arched their chests, lifting their chins to the sky. The next moment they were no longer boys, but wolves; their painful screams morphing into haunting spine-tingling howls.


    When they turned their heads to Nick, their eyes were glowing a strange milky-white, much like the contents of the vials they had consumed. Kicking off their pants they began slinking towards him, while the two boys in back downed flasks of their own.


    He backed away slowly as Marcus and Adam approached, each attempting to flank him from either side. Niko growled, baring teeth in warning and as he did two more wolves descended from the steps above.


    Hackles raised, he wheeled and snapped as Marcus attempted to charge him from the right, and as he turned, the two he didn¡¯t recognize came at him from the front.


    That was when Jaylen appeared; running at full force he threw himself into the fray to stand defensively in front of Nick, as if his small form had any chance of deflecting the oncoming wolves. ¡°Stop!¡± He was wide-eyed, his voice shaky. ¡°This wasn¡¯t the plan.¡±


    The wolves, however, didn¡¯t halt, didn¡¯t slow and as they sprang, Jaylen lost his footing, stumbling backwards as Nick rushed forward to shield his body with his own.


    They set upon him, biting, and tearing at his flesh, while Nick struggled to keep his head down and Jaylen protected. Niko whimpered, a high-pitched whine escaping him as one of the wolves latched on to his already injured shoulder¡ªperhaps encouraged by the blood there¡ªand began to shake its head. A moment later it released him as a strangled yelp of surprise caused Nick to glance up in time to see one of the wolves, Marcus he thought, go skidding and rolling out of control as if he¡¯d been struck by some massive force. From the porch he heard the stranger curse. A moment later, a second wolf was knocked clear of him, and this time Nick was able to determine from where the blow had occurred.


    A black wolf of exceptional size was facing down the two remaining wolves, for Marcus and Adam had indeed backed off. Intimidated by this new foe they had scattered to the safety of the treeline. The black wolf turned his head to Nick, and eyes as blue as his own locked onto his before he suddenly doubled in size. Nick followed suit, bringing out his tank form and stepping up to the black wolf¡¯s flank.


    From the porch, the stranger let out a string of cuss words. He seemed to realize his show of force was over, for even the wolves who had come with him were backing down when faced with an even fight. ¡°Get back here,¡± he screamed at Marcus and Adam, who both turned tail and disappeared into the underbrush.


    The black wolf charged, and the two remaining wolves scattered, the fight having left them.


    The threat over, Nick changed back to his smaller form before dropping to the ground. Every inch of him ached and stung from the mauling he had received. He wheeled, when Jaylen gently touched his side. Niko bared his teeth in response as he issued a warning growl. Jaylen had betrayed him as equally as Marcus and Adam had, perhaps more so, as it had been his lies which had let him out here to be ambushed.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡± Jaylen cried. Tears were streaming down his cheeks. ¡°I didn¡¯t know.¡±


    The black wolf sauntered closer and leaning down, licked Nick¡¯s face submissively, before nudging at his neck gently with his nose.


    Nick struggled to his feet, his eyes glancing at the stranger before he turned to leave.  Behind him, the younger teens cowered, perhaps confused by what they had just seen. Nick turned and wearily limped off.


    ¡°This isn¡¯t over,¡± the man called after Nick.


    The black wolf had a message of his own for the man. Before he turned to follow Nick, he lifted his leg to pee upon the steps.

 SEVEN

    Sometime during the night Nick had migrated across the bed. While Damon had remained sleeping soundly on his side of the mattress, his breathing shallow and almost nonexistent, Nick had awakened to find himself lying on his side next to him, his cheek on the edge of Damon¡¯s pillow, his face mere inches from the back of his head. Briefly, he pressed his forehead into the nape of his neck, inhaling deeply. Damon¡¯s scent: familiar and comforting, flooded over him. It always had a calming effect on him. It made him feel safe, and it was the scent that he most associated with home.


    He was content to lie there in the dark, with the warm covers pulled up to his chin and Damon sleeping by his side. He would have assuredly like to have remained there, possibly even allowing himself to drift back into a lazy slumber, if the need to void his bladder hadn¡¯t trumped his desire to remain hidden within the sheets.


    He sat up and winced, sucking in breath as a sudden stab of pain jolted through his shoulder. It was a reminder that things were not right in his world. He glanced over at Damon, wary of disturbing his sleeping bunk mate as he slid out from beneath the covers. The thought that Damon might put him on lockdown was a very real possibility. With his sheltering and overly suspicious nature, the previous nights events would have him circling the wagons; battening down hatches; and conducting fire drills. Damon¡¯s recipe for survival: a perpetual state of distrust, blended with a seasoned helping of paranoia and a generous pinch of luck, could at times feel overbearing. He could hardly argue however, with the results. He had kept them alive (and at times prospering) while they fled Britain to the new world, dodging wolves and vampires alike, escaping religious zealots, deadly diseases and enduring not one, but two world wars.


    The room they shared was enveloped in darkness. Two heavily draped windows, between which sat an antique writing desk, were completely void of light. Thick velour curtains: a dark emerald in colour, concealed from the interior the fact that the windows behind had been bricked up nearly a century earlier. Crossing the bedroom, Nick quietly released the door latch and slipped out into the hall.


    Now that Nick was gone Damon no longer had to play possum and rolled to his back, pandiculation overtaking him as he did. He tucked his arms behind his head, enjoying the space as he stared up at the ceiling. He¡¯d had to make a lot of concessions while raising Nick. While he had once been human, the same could not be said of Nick. He was wolven born and as such, had many quirks specific to his species. The fact that he turned into a mindless killing machine three days a month was just the start of it.


    Wolven were pack animals. They required companionship, in the way he required blood, and it wasn¡¯t something that could be taken lightly. The personification of the lone wolf as being strong, confident and in general an all around badass, was a human narrative only. To the wolven, the pack was everything. Death was preferable over excommunication. If you did happen upon a lone wolf, it was more than likely they were simply seeking out a mate; looking for a new pack to join; or perhaps setting out to establish a pack of their own.


    They had removed Nikolaus from his pack when he was still a child and consequently Damon (and eventually the entire clan) had become a surrogate, whether he appreciated it or not. Overtime he found it simpler to regard Nick as more of an overgrown puppy, than anything else. Nick had issues with personal space in that, he gave him none: his bed was Nick¡¯s bed; he thought nothing of using his lap as a pillow; and a dogpile of one, was indeed a thing. Privacy was something that other people got to enjoy. He supposed it really was a little thing to contend with considering what Nick had given him in return: his humanity.


    He glanced at the clock on the nightstand: It was just after 2 pm. Early for him but still lots of time for Nick to get into trouble. He had forced Nick to relive the story of the hunter because their survival depended on it. This bit with the wolf pack, whatever had taken place, although of great concern, was much less his business. After all, Nick was entitled to his wolfish ways. That didn¡¯t mean however that Damon had to make things easy for him. He threw off the covers and headed to the kitchen, deciding to brew a pot of coffee. Nick, he happily realized, was still in the bathroom.


    The refrigerator lacked anything resembling breakfast food (or simply food, for that matter) so he turned to the freezer instead. He found a pound of bacon and some frozen OJ, and that led him to the cupboard where a bag of buttermilk pancake mix awaited. Crisis averted; he turned his attention to other things. His laptop was resting on the island, so he hopped up on a stool and was working on a grocery order when he heard Nick approach from behind.


    ¡°I¡¯ve put coffee on,¡± Damon tried to catch a yawn as Nick reluctantly joined him, ¡°and while there¡¯s not much in the refrigerator, there is pancake mix in the cupboard and bacon in the freezer, if you¡¯d like me to whip you up some sort of breakfast.¡±


    ¡°Coffee¡¯s fine.¡± Nick mumbled, sliding up onto the seat next to him. His blue eyes were downcast as he avoided his gaze. Someone was grumpy and with no full moon in sight either.


    Damon wondered smugly if something had disrupted his plans.


    He closed the laptop and turned all his attention to Nick. ¡°Take your shirt off.¡± He wanted to see how much damage remained. After all, he¡¯d heard the painful gasp that Nick had attempted to stifle before climbing out of bed.


    Nick sighed but did as he was told and quickly stripped the garment off.


    Damon immediately removed the bandage; without warning, and none too gently.


    ¡°Ow.¡± Nick stated flatly.


    Damon, choose to ignore him and instead began inspecting his injury. The wound from the arrow was of no consequence. It had healed up nicely. It was the torn shoulder that was of concern. A bite meant bacteria. Bacteria could cause infection, and the stitches meant to help piece him back together could also prevent said bacteria from draining, causing pockets of pus instead. The skin here was inflamed, angry and upset. ¡°You got this wet last night.¡± Damon complained, as he dunked the corner of a clean towel under hot water. He took his time cleaning up the area around the stitches, wishing he had peroxide to flush the wound properly and making a mental note to add it to the grocery list.


    Nick shrugged as if he couldn¡¯t care less. His blas¨¦ attitude necessitated a lecture.


    ¡°You need to take better care of yourself. You may be a fast healer, Nick, but you¡¯re not immortal.¡± And that, in all truthfulness, was the crux of Damon¡¯s fears. That one-day Nick would succumb to death and leave him and there would be nothing he could do about it. He would live on of course in his eternal youth, but as a husk of his former self; with all the humanity he had managed to reclaim dying along with Nick, as he was unable to imagine any viable future without him.


    That, however, would be a long time off if he had anything to say about it. For the time being he would take great pleasure (and much diligence) in dispatching all which endeavoured to make Nick dead sooner rather than later.


    When he was satisfied with his work, he applied a clean bandage, before indicating that Nick could put his shirt back on. ¡°Your skin is really inflamed. You need antibiotics.¡± For that he turned to the Tupperware container within the cupboard. Rummaging through he came up with a pair of white opaque bottles. He contemplated each label before choosing one. ¡°The dating¡¯s still good.¡± He said as he tossed the bottle of pills towards Nick. ¡°Take two of those, three times today, and after that, one pill three times daily.¡±


    Nick caught the bottle. It was the kind you¡¯d see the pharmacist dispensing pills from when filling prescriptions. ¡°For how long?¡± Nick asked as he unscrewed the cap and dropped two of the capsules into his palm.


    ¡°About a week,¡± Damon brought him a glass of tap water. ¡°Or until I say otherwise.¡± Nick tossed the pills in his mouth before downing the entire glass of water.


    Satisfied, Damon returned to his laptop and his incomplete shopping.


    ¡°You¡¯re up early,¡± Nick commented nonchalantly. ¡°Still daylight.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, well an early start to the evening isn¡¯t going to kill me.¡± He¡¯d glanced at Nick from the corner of his eyes as he spoke. ¡°There.¡± He exclaimed as he pushed the open laptop across the counter towards Nick. ¡°Let me know if you want anything else.¡±


    Nick quickly skimmed the webpage Damon had been ordering from. ¡°Groceries?¡±


    ¡°And anything else you might need. Just hit send when you¡¯re ready, and they¡¯ll have it delivered by supper time.¡±


    Nick smiled. ¡°Looks good to me.¡± Happily hitting send, he pushed the laptop back towards him.


    ¡°Nope.¡± Damon gave it a quick shove back in his direction. ¡°Check out the next tab, first.¡±


    ¡°Ugh. Clothes shopping? Do I have to?¡± Nick whinged as his ten-year-old self made a sudden impromptu appearance. He ducked the cuff that Damon intended for the back of his head.


    ¡°Says the man who walks out the door fully clothed and comes back naked.¡± He shook his head. ¡°Far better for you to lose your clothes th¡ª¡±


    A knock at the door, silenced him. He glanced at Nick; his laughing eyes having gone dark. ¡°Are you expecting anyone?¡± Nick asked hopeful, as Damon stood to answer the door.


    There was a dampening spell on the apartment. For as much as Damon detested magic, he had found certain wards a necessity and once becoming reliant on them, wondered how he¡¯d ever managed without them. Having ears that were far more sensitive than most, the dampening spell had become one such requirement. He¡¯d hired a warlock to cast it decades earlier, and it worked simply enough: it kept sounds that they made in and sounds that others made out¡ªit saved them from having to listen to the guy with the CPAP issues two floor down, or the chick who played her music in endless rotation at the end of the hall, or even simpler still, buffered the sounds of traffic from the street below, or children playing in the courtyard. The downside was that they couldn¡¯t hear anyone approaching until they were already on top of them. So far it hadn¡¯t been an issue. Anyone that was foolish enough to start any shenanigans with a vampire and a full-grown werewolf usually got what they deserved.


    Nick moved to follow, but Damon placed a firm hand on his shoulder as he passed. ¡°Stay.¡± he cautioned, before making his way to the threshold. As he glanced through the peephole, he relaxed. Turning once more towards Nick, he raised a silent finger to his lips before releasing the deadbolt and stepping out into the hall closing the door behind him as he did.


    Wes Williams stood looking at him meekly. The older caretaker was wearing a blue plaid dress shirt and a pair of jeans that perhaps fit him once, but now hung down low upon his hips. He kept them up with a simple brown leather belt. His blue eyes searched Damon carefully. He had probably decided that it being Sunday and afternoon at that, that a knock on his tenant¡¯s door was fair game. It would be a personal matter, Damon mused, as any business pertaining to the apartment was dispatched to the bulletin board in the lobby or in the group e-mail that they periodically received.


    ¡°Not wanting to be a bother,¡± Wes started in his slow and calm enunciation, ¡°but I thought I might inquire about your pup?¡±


    This caught Damon momentarily off guard and he struggled for a response that would put the elder gentlemen¡¯s mind at rest. ¡°The vet.¡± He¡¯d blurted and realized that he sounded blatantly incoherent. Damon wasn¡¯t fond of small talk for the sake of social interaction. He avoided such things as it became uncomfortable to feast upon people once he thought of them as more of a sentient being and less as filet mignon. He had hired Wes to take care of the buildings nearly five years ago, had done so in preparation of their return. He hoped that they still had another five years here in Kingsford before they were forced to relocate again. Unfortunately, he¡¯d already found himself interacting with Wes far more than he was comfortable with. He tended not to get friendly with neighbors because people often realized after a decade or so, that something was up with the handsome young man at the end of the hall who hadn¡¯t seemed to have aged. Sometimes they couldn¡¯t put to words exactly what it was that was bothersome, but when he realized that people were giving him strange looks as he passed them in the hall, or otherwise becoming more suspicious of him than he was of them, then it was time to move on.


    ¡°He¡¯s at the vet.¡± He reiterated, unsure of how much information would sate the man¡¯s curiosity. ¡°Dog fight. Needed stitches. Should be home in a couple days.¡± He cursed himself inwardly. He really did suck at conversation. Especially when put on the spot.


    ¡°A¡¯yup.¡± Wes said as he nodded in apparent understanding. ¡°Makes sense. Could you give him this once he¡¯s home?¡±


    Damon smiled as he took the object. That he could do, and he told him as much before disappearing back into his apartment, happy that the exchange was over. Once inside, he quickly slid the deadbolt back in place before joining Nick in the kitchen. Niko would soon have to make an appearance, there was no getting around it.


    Nick was about to inquire as to who the mystery guest was, when Damon placed a large dog-bone on the table in front of him. It was tied with a pretty red ribbon. ¡°This is for you,¡± he half chortled, half choked on the words. The bemused look on Nick¡¯s face as he blinked in quiet comprehension, left him unable to suppress his guilty amusement.


    ***


    On Sunday, when Faith hadn¡¯t heard from Allie, she¡¯d thought it odd, but not completely out of the ordinary. After all, Allie had a paper due. That morning she¡¯d sent her a quick text to ask how her date had gone, before spending the rest of the day catching up on her own assignments. It wasn¡¯t until later in the evening that she realized Allie hadn¡¯t gotten back to her.


    Monday, when Allison failed to show up for the classes they shared, she began to worry. By end of day, she had a string of unanswered calls and texts to Allie. The first thing that crossed her mind, was that perhaps her date on Saturday hadn¡¯t gone as well as expected and Allie was once again lying low. After all, it wouldn¡¯t have been the first time that she had retreated from the world to mend a broken heart.


    As soon as classes ended, Faith hurried over to Allie¡¯s dormitory, knocking loudly until her annoyed looking roommate let her in.


    ¡°Allie¡¯s not here,¡± Van announced as Faith pushed her way past and into the lodging. Faith quickly scanned the room. Everything looked in order, as far as she could tell. Allison¡¯s side of the room was pristine as usual. Her bed was neatly made, her school bag full of books sat on the floor next to it, even her laptop, sat open on top of her desk at the ready.


    Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    ¡°She has been, though?¡± Faith asked. ¡°I mean, when did you last see her? She hasn¡¯t answered any of my texts, and she wasn¡¯t in class today.¡±


    Van seemed uninterested. Instead, she busied herself with painting her nails; a dark plum colour that was almost black. ¡°I¡¯m sure she¡¯s fine.¡± She blew on her wet tips. ¡°It¡¯s not like we keep tabs on one another. Maybe she went home to her parents for a visit. Have you tried calling there?¡±


    Faith stared dumbfounded at Allie¡¯s roommate. While her lack of concern was appalling, she did at least offer a plausible excuse for Allie¡¯s absence.          Leaving the dorm, Faith headed to campus security to file a missing persons report. The truth was, she had never met Allie¡¯s family and she didn''t have the first clue in how to get in contact with them.


    The officer on duty, a young man hardly older than Faith herself, listened carefully as he took down the information. In truth, there really wasn¡¯t much to go on, but the officer promised to look into it, before sending her on her way.


    Tuesday after classes, and still not having heard from Allie, Faith headed once more to Downie Hall. This time upon coming to Allie¡¯s dorm room, Faith was surprised to find the door slightly ajar. Knocking tentatively, she waited until it was opened by a tall, slender gentleman with dark eyes and greying hair. Beyond him was a woman of similar age who looked like an older version of Allie herself. Her face was pale and drawn and her brown eyes were rimmed red, a clear indication that she had been crying.


    Any hopes that Allie had gone home for a visit faded, as Faith recognized the couple from the photos Allie had shared from her phone. The couple was Donna and Kenneth Greer, Allie¡¯s parents. Also present, was Allie¡¯s roommate Van, who looked disgruntled as usual as she sat on the edge of her bed. Indeed, as soon as Faith introduced herself, Van used the distraction to flee the room at the first possible moment.


    ¡°You¡¯re the young lady who reported Allison missing,¡± Kenneth said, sounding as drained as his wife looked.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡± Faith apologized, feeling guilty and speaking much too quickly. ¡°I probably should have reported it earlier, but I didn¡¯t know how to get in touch with you to see if Allie had gone home, and she wasn¡¯t answering any of my texts¡ª¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s alright.¡± Allie¡¯s mother gently took up Faith¡¯s hands as she spoke. ¡°You couldn¡¯t have known. If we¡¯re going to play the blame game, then we should start with ourselves. We should have realized something was wrong when Allison missed her Sunday phone call home.¡±


    Donna¡¯s eyes flooded over with tears, and Faith couldn¡¯t help but to reach out and hug Allie¡¯s mother tightly, comforting her as if she were her own.


    ¡°I¡¯ll do whatever I can to help find her.¡± Faith whispered, as she felt tears slipping from the corners of her own eyes. ¡°I promise.¡±


    *


    That night, Faith couldn¡¯t sleep. She kept thinking about Allie and wondering what had happened to her. Was she ok, wherever she was? Or was she cold and scared and unable to sleep too? She felt guilty lying in her cozy bed under her down comforter, in the safety of her family home.


    Her mind kept returning to her dealings with Allie¡¯s parents and the statement she had made to the police. It perfectly mirrored the report she¡¯d given to the campus security officer only a day before. The actual police had arrived at the dorm shortly after she had. With their arrival, came the onlookers; curious students loitering in the hallway outside of Allie¡¯s room, interested in why the police had been called. A few familiar faces waved to Faith as she sat quietly on Van¡¯s bed, while the officers took turns speaking with Allie¡¯s parents, until one of the officers stepped out to quietly disperse them.


    When the police finally interviewed her; Faith reiterated that she had last had contact with Allie during a phone conversation around eight p.m. Saturday night. That she believed Allie had planned on meeting up with a gentleman she¡¯d met the previous evening, at a nightclub called the Pitt.


    What Faith hadn¡¯t reported, was how the nightclub in question had an invisible poem over its innermost door which rendered magic-use obsolete. Or how if you were in the know; you could order a bloody-mary extra bloody for a decidedly different spin on the drink. She hadn¡¯t told them, because, well¡­ how could she? Yet without this information, the police didn¡¯t have the entire picture, either.


    Faith knew that the Pitt catered to a unique clientele, but she had never fully contemplated the risks involved with socializing there. But now with Allie missing, she feared the worst and if Allie¡¯s disappearance had anything to do with that club, Faith had no one to blame but herself.


    Reaching for her school bag, she pulled out her laptop. If indeed there was a supernatural element involved with Allie¡¯s disappearance, then perhaps there could be a supernatural solution as well. From her magic studies she¡¯d learned of a few online groups that might be able to help. At least it was a place to start.


    Keys clacking, Faith scoured a multitude of message boards and chat rooms before finally coming across something that caught her eye. Taking a moment, she composed a brief e-mail. She paused before hitting send, to once more read it over. Once sent, there would be no turning back. She bit her lip as she considered.


    A gentle breeze blew through her open window, billowing her curtains and chilling her skin. The evenings were starting to get colder. Soon she would have to close her window against the coming fall.


    On the other side of the room, Faith¡¯s cousin Tish, rolled over in her sleep. She glanced at the strawberry blond whose legs had kicked out from under the covers. Tish was only two years younger than herself, and there was no one in the world that she felt closer to. They had been raised as sisters, with both their mothers living together in their grandmother¡¯s country home.


    Faith climbed out of bed and crossed the room to her cousin. Carefully, so as not to wake her, she pulled the blankets back over her. She stared at the curly red head. What if it had been Tish, who had disappeared? Would she have hesitated then?


    Making her decision, she crossed over to the laptop and hit send. Closing her computer, she once more climbed beneath the covers for what threatened to be a night void of sleep.


    When dawn broke, Faith pulled herself from her bed, feeling more drained than refreshed.         The truth was, she had barely slept at all last night. Her thoughts kept returning to Allie, in a vicious circle. She felt hopeless, not knowing where she was, or how she could help.


    Throwing on a robe, she went downstairs. She immediately wanted to message Allie¡¯s mom, but thought it best to wait. It was still early, and if the Greer¡¯s had managed to get any sleep, she didn¡¯t want to be the one to disturb it. Besides, they had promised to contact her the minute they had any news regarding Allie.


    Rummaging through the refrigerator, she decided to make breakfast. She needed the distraction. She quickly cooked some bacon on a sheet in the oven and scrambled eggs in a pan. The smells quickly brought forth the other members of her family; her grandmother eyeing her suspiciously as she came out from her main-floor bedroom.


    Soon the kitchen was bustling with the sounds of early morning fare. There was toast, coffee and juice to go along with the meal, and twenty minutes later, both their mothers left for work and Tish headed off to school, leaving Faith alone with her grandmother.


    ¡°Don¡¯t you have school this morning as well?¡± Nana asked as she sipped her morning brew. Her long silver hair had been pulled up in an untidy bun on the top of her head. Her blue eyes scrutinized as she watched Faith carefully.


    ¡°Not this morning,¡± Faith fibbed, while she cleared the table. ¡°My professor is on leave. She left us some reading.¡±


    The answer seemed to satisfy her grandmother, who taking her coffee with her, went outside to work in the greenhouse.


    Faith tidied up the kitchen, stacking dirty plates and cutlery in the dishwasher before filling a sink with hot sudsy water and washing the pans by hand. When the dishes were dried and put away, she went to her room to find that she had received a reply to last night¡¯s e-mail.


    A queasy feeling that had nothing to do with her recently consumed breakfast rose from her stomach. Clicking the link, she opened the response. There was only one small line of text: a phone number. Feeling nervous, she quickly entered the number into her smartphone and taking a deep breath, dialed.


    It picked up almost immediately.


    ¡°Hello?¡± A female voice answered. ¡°Who¡¯s this?¡±


    ¡°Hi. My name is Faith,¡± she replied feeling unsure of herself. ¡°I sent you an e-mail¡ª¡±


    ¡°Hi Faith,¡± The voice who cut her off was excessively cheerful. ¡°My name is Hope, and we¡¯ve been expecting your call. My sisters and I would very much like to meet with you, but for that to happen, we¡¯re going to need your help.¡±


    In the background, Faith could hear other voices, arguing and asking questions, which for the moment, Hope was ignoring. ¡°Of course, I¡¯ll do whatever I can to help.¡±


    ¡°Great,¡± Hope said, ¡°Now since we¡¯re unfamiliar with your location, it¡¯ll be up to you to decide where we meet. We prefer a place that¡¯s isolated, in fact the more privacy the better,¡± she explained, ¡°Oh, and if you can manage¡ªhallowed ground, just to be safe.¡±


    *


    Hilltop memorial park was a small cemetery located in a much older part of the city, on the outskirts of the area that had come to be known as the core. It was surrounded by a stone and wrought-iron fence that still stood strong through the ages. Its driveway was guarded by an ornamental gate that barred access to the burial grounds beyond. The many plots and mausoleums within the grounds were as old as the fence itself, with the last burials taking place in the early 1900¡¯s.


    Faith stood outside the gate, her entry impeded by a heavy chain that had been wrapped through the iron bars and secured with an older looking padlock. In the distance she could see the chapel: a grey stone building with an arched entryway and decorative windows running along its side. Above the entrance was a small steeple, it¡¯s thin spire, a needle piercing the sky above.


    Grasping the bars, she pushed against them, rattling the chains and testing their resolve. Though old and rusty they refused to yield, and the space left between the gates was far too small for Faith to squeeze through. Grasping the padlock, she closed her eyes, clearing her mind. She imagined the lock springing open, the chains falling free, slinking to the ground like a coiled snake. Open, she thought. Open for me.


    ¡°Resero,¡± she whispered, as she felt the padlock pop open in her hand with a slight shnink of sound. Opening her eyes she slid the lock from the links, pulling the length of chain free from the bars and letting it fall to the ground in a heap. Feeling guilty, she glanced around. She needn¡¯t to have worried she quickly realized, but for the dead, there was no one here to witness her trespass.


    Grasping the bars once more, she pushed, the rusty hinges creaking and complaining as she forced the gates apart. When she thought that she could slip between the gates with the space she had created, she did just that, before repositioning them and heading up the driveway towards the chapel.


    Feeling exposed, she moved quickly up the path, the gravel crunching noisily beneath her feet. Black birds cawed ominously in the distance as they circled overhead. The grounds themselves had seen little care over the years, with some of the lawn being patchy or almost barren of growth, while in other areas, the monuments and headstones were almost overgrown by tall grass and weeds.


    Reaching the chapel, she marvelled at its ancient beauty. Large stone bricks composed most of the structure. Its oversized doors: arched, double-wide and made of heavy wood, marked the entryway of the church¡¯s vestibule. Along each side of the nave and set in pairs, decorative lancet windows stretched towards the sky. A date chiselled into the cornerstone of the building, read 1817.


    Ascending shallow stone steps, she tried the front doors and was not at all surprised to find them locked. The doors themselves were an artistic masterpiece in their own right: elaborately carved with ornamental strap hinges and heavy iron door pulls.


    Once more Faith imagined the doors opening before her, swinging freely and granting her access. ¡°Resero¡± She said, smiling as she heard the dead bolt releasing. This time there was no struggle as there was with the gate, the door swung easily open and moments later she was stepping into the chapel.


    The small entrance was much darker than she had anticipated. She momentarily debated whether to leave the outer door open, but ultimately decided against it. Instead, she pulled out her phone and using the flash, surveyed her surroundings. The foyer she was standing in was small, with a tall ceiling and a decorative tile floor. The doors leading into the nave, although not as elaborate as the exterior ones were still double wide and made of wood. Hung on either side of the doorway were decorative fonts: white stone basins, adorned with a simple cross, which once held holy water.


    The nave, the main area of the church, was a single aisle lined with pews on either side, most of which were still intact and in otherwise excellent condition. She wrinkled her nose. The entire church could use a good airing out, as it had that stuffy closed-up smell about it. Dust danced in the light from the windows as she kicked it up, her steps sounded hollow on the ancient hardwood as she made her way towards the altar at the back of the church. Here she stepped up into the sanctuary which was slightly raised above the rest of the church. She made her way to the pulpit, running her hands across the dust encrusted wood. The floor here was covered with a thin red carpeting. Now threadbare and worn, at one time it must have looked quite regal, as Faith tried to imagine what it would have been like for the congregation that once worshiped here.


    She continued her exploration, discovering an arched door on the side wall to the left of the sanctuary. It swung open easily, its hinges squeaking dramatically as it announced her arrival. The small room beyond was completely barren of furniture. A circular carpet in the same red colour adorned the centre of the hardwood floor. She could see imprints in the rug where a desk must have once sat. On the wall to the left of the door several cast-iron hooks were hung in a row.


    A door on the opposite side of the room led out to a landing and a short flight of steps; at the bottom of which was a short hallway and a second set of stairs. The hallway led to an exit at the rear of the church. The stairs descended into darkness. Taking these, she worked her way down the shallow stone steps as they corkscrewed their way beneath the sanctuary at the head of the church.


    The undercroft: the crypt beneath the church, was dark and void of windows. The light from her phone did little to cut through the darkness. The temperature here was much cooler as she stepped out into the large open space, which was empty but for several large pillars which served as support for the church above. Shining her light as she went, she followed the length of the walls where dark alcoves within held ancient stone sarcophaguses, the final resting place of the clergy which had spent their lives serving the church.


    Making her way around she completed her circle, coming back upon the entrance to the stairs. The north wall it seemed, was the only wall not entombed with the dead. Stopping here, she removed the small shoulder bag she was carrying, before kneeling on the cool stone floor and spreading its contents on the ground before her. Among the items were three large white candles; each wrapped with a bit of parchment and carefully tied with string. She set two of the candles against the wall about three feet apart from one another. The third, she placed directly behind her. Picking up the piece of pink sidewalk chalk she had earlier enchanted, she drew a line up from the first candle as far as she could reach, before continuing along the wall in the direction of the other candle. When she was above the second candle, she brought the line down until she had effectively drawn a large rectangle on the wall between the two candles. She then continued to draw, this time from the second candle to the one behind her, eventually marking a triangle around herself and finishing at the candle she had started with. Setting the chalk down, she picked up a smaller tapered candle which she raised, wick end to her lips. Clearing her mind, she concentrated on the candle, focusing on the stub of wick as she imagined it sparking into flame.


    ¡°Incendo,¡± she whispered.


    Nothing happened.


    Faith frowned at the stubborn bit of wax in her grasp, before closing her eyes and trying once more. ¡°Incendo,¡± she said, with more urgency this time. Opening her eyes, she was disappointed, but not entirely surprised to find that the wick had entirely refused to obey. Her aspect after all, was water and anything fire related always came as a struggle.


    Sighing, she dropped the candle and picked up the barbeque lighter instead. With a flick of a switch and the pull of the trigger, she soon had all three candles brightly lit.


    The flickering candlelight cast moving shadows amongst the pillars and tombs making the crypt feel far spookier than moments before. The darkness had been unnerving, but somehow this was worse. From the corner of her eye, she kept catching a glimpse of movement¡ªshadows only of course¡ªbut it was still decidedly creepy.


    Taking up her cellphone, she quickly called Hope, placing her on speaker phone as she did. They had spent most of the morning hashing out their plan to meet so that she now felt secure in her decision. ¡°Everything¡¯s ready on this end,¡± she stated nervously as Hope answered.


    ¡°We¡¯re ready here too,¡± Hope¡¯s voice, was calm and confident. It made Faith feel immediately better. ¡°Do you have the spell at ready? We need to be able to read it as one.¡±


    Faith flipped through her smart phone until she came to the spell she¡¯d been earlier sent. ¡°Ready when you are,¡± Faith said as Hope counted them down.


    Together they chanted:


    When the treks too far to walk, Make a doorway with the chalk.


    Shrink the miles between the two, Now simply knock and walk on through.


    Faith gasped as the lines of chalk she had drawn began to glow with pale bluish light. Growing stronger, it rose up from the floor towards the ceiling, and burst out brightly from the markings she¡¯d made on the wall. Stepping up quickly, while the light still permeated the outline, she reached out and knocked three times, squarely in the middle of the door.


    A sudden blast of blinding light caused Faith to shield her eyes. When she opened them, the blue light had subsided, the candles were extinguished and once more she was standing in darkness with only the light of her cell phone to guide her.


    She sighed disappointed, as she stared at the brick work before her. It had really looked like the spell was working, but the wall was just as solid as it had been moments before. She reached out a hand to touch its surface, to assure herself of this, when an arm abruptly emerged from the stone and grabbed her.

 EIGHT

    EIGHT


    Faith shrieked, as the hand protruding from the wall grasped firmly hold of her arm and pulled. She felt herself pitching off-balance towards the cement and closed her eyes, sure that moments later she would slam her face into the stone brickwork.


    Instead, she tumbled forward through the masonry and into the arms of a red-haired girl, who helped her quickly regain her balance.


    ¡°Welcome Faith!¡± The girl exclaimed grasping both her hands in her own. ¡°I¡¯m so excited to meet you. I¡¯m Hope, and these,¡± she said of the two girls who were standing somberly behind her, ¡°are my sisters, Justice and Liberty.¡±


    Faith smiled, immediately captivated by the spunky redhead before her. She was tall and slim; her red hair was wavy and cut in a bob just above her shoulders. Her green eyes sparkled at her from beneath her bangs. Her skin was porcelain smooth, without a freckle in sight. She wore a slim-fitting charcoal grey t-shirt dress with a plunging V-neck and long fitted sleeves that fell to her knuckles. The skirt of her dress reached mid-thigh, as did her boots, which were a soft suede.


    Her sisters behind her were as equally beautiful, with long ginger hair that fell in waves past their shoulders and stunning green eyes. Justice had on a pair of army-green cargo pants that she wore low on her hips, and a black fitted tank top, which was cropped just short of her waistline, displaying the tiniest hint of her toned physique beneath.


    Liberty too, was dressed similarly in cargo pants, but entirely in black with a heavy belt at her waist and a long-sleeve tight fitting shirt that did little to hide her curves beneath.


    Glancing between the three, Faith suddenly realized. Except for their hairstyles, which were each a little different, they were seemingly identical.


    ¡°Wait, are you¡ª?¡±


    ¡°Triplets.¡± Hope admitted, with a nod.


    Not just triplets, Faith realized as a chill of understanding ran along her spine. She was standing in the presence of the Scarlet Trinity. Magical Royalty. Three sister witches, who were blessed with the gift of magic far beyond what their young years should have allowed. She¡¯d had no idea that when she sent that e-mail, she was sending it to the Trinity. She¡¯d simply answered a posting from an online message board for any information regarding missing witches. She¡¯d hesitated initially because while she had realized almost immediately that Allison Greer was a natural born witch¡ªAllie herself did not identify as such and if Allison hadn¡¯t been living as a witch, then perhaps she hadn¡¯t fit the criteria that the ad had been searching for. Thankfully for her, the trinity hadn¡¯t seen it that way.


    *


    ¡°So, tell us about this sister witch. The one that¡¯s gone missing.¡± Justice said as she stirred her coffee before taking a careful sip.


    They were sitting at the table in the small country kitchen they¡¯d retreated to. Immediately, Hope had offered to make coffee. They had a machine, the kind that brewed a cup at a time, and she¡¯d politely made Faith¡¯s coffee first. Faith had been happy for the distraction, for while they¡¯d waited for the coffee to be brewed, the other two sisters¡ªwho had taken up seats on either side of the table, had continued to stare at her in solemn silence. Of the three, it seemed that only Hope was truly happy that she was there.


    It wasn¡¯t until they were all seated, coffee¡¯s in hand, that the inquisition began. As quickly and simply as she could, Faith recounted the last few days before folding her hands together as she too fell into silence.


    The sister¡¯s it seemed, were contemplating.


    ¡°She could be our next maiden.¡± Justice began, only to be cut short by Liberty.


    ¡°I disagree. The timing is off¡ª¡±


    Justice shook her head. ¡°Not if we caught a lucky break. We don¡¯t know when or how he picks his targets.¡±


    ¡°No, but if this is our guy, then he is suddenly breaking pattern. They only go missing in the days before the full moon. It¡¯s more likely she¡¯s become monster chow, considering the stomping grounds.¡± Libby solemnly shook her head. ¡°I just don¡¯t think we should be wasting our time on this.¡±


    Faith watched as the two girls locked wills across the table from one another. Their brief conversation though confusing, begged questioning. ¡°Does this mean you won¡¯t help?¡± she asked, her attention on Liberty.


    Hope immediately interjected. ¡°Now, we didn¡¯t say that¡ª¡±


    ¡°And what do you mean, she¡¯s monster chow?¡±


    Faith slammed her cell phone down on the table in front of them. It was open to a picture of she and Allie. They were both smiling brightly their arms draped around one another as they posed for the selfie. ¡°This is my friend, we¡¯re talking about¡ªnot some random nobody.¡±


    Liberty stared at the photo before meeting Faith¡¯s eye. ¡°I like her.¡± She said suddenly. ¡°She has spirit.¡± She got up from the table, leaving the room.


    Faith looked curiously between the two remaining sisters, who were exchanging a knowing look.


    Liberty returned shortly with a large tablet. Sitting down, she slid her chair closer to Faith¡¯s. ¡°This is what we¡¯ve been up against,¡± she said as she began showing Faith a series of photos, women of varying ages and ethnicities. ¡°Sister witches are disappearing, in sets of three.     Always a maiden, a mother and a crone, and always in the days leading up to a full moon.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ve discovered four sets¡ª¡± Justice said speaking up.


    ¡°Four that we are aware of,¡± Libby clarified. ¡°And this is what becomes of them.¡± She brought up a new set of photos.


    Faith, grimaced and quickly looked away. The photos were gruesome. The women were obviously dead; their faces shrivelled and drained of colour, as if the life had been sucked out of them.


    ¡°Each set of women were openly living their lives as wiccans.¡± Justice continued. ¡°Other than that, there seems to be no other connection between them.¡±


    Libby reached out a hand and touched Faith¡¯s arm gently. ¡°In no way, did I mean to diminish your loss. I just don¡¯t think we¡¯re dealing with the same thing here.¡±


    ¡°But that doesn¡¯t mean we¡¯re not going to help.¡± Hope said brightly, attempting to lighten the mood around the table. ¡°Right?¡± She glanced at her sisters.


    ¡°Well¡­¡± Justice said carefully as she caught Libby¡¯s eye. ¡°A sister witch, is a sister witch, and isn¡¯t that what we¡¯ve vowed to protect?¡±


    Libby rolled her eyes but smiled broadly. ¡°I know when I¡¯m out voted.¡± Standing she pushed in her chair. ¡°C¡¯mon. Let¡¯s give you the tour.¡±


    As Faith stood, she thought she caught another silent exchange between the sisters who were still at the table but had no time to consider it further. The next moment Libby was swinging the kitchen door open and holding it for her as she ushered her into the dining room.


    ¡°Welcome to our command centre.¡± Libby said as Faith took in her surroundings.


    What would have been the dining and living area of the farmhouse had been turned into an office space instead. Corkboard and whiteboards hung on the wall, covered with photos and newspaper clippings. A large map marked with colored push pins and drawn on in marker was also hung. Three desks, each with their own computer station¡ªone of which had dual monitors, sat central in the room among a series of office equipment and file cabinets.


    ¡°Seriously,¡± Justice said as she pushed by, taking a seat at one of the desks. ¡°Nobody calls it that.¡±


    Hope too joined them, taking a seat at the desk with the multiple screens, while Libby crossed the room to where a small sitting area had been set up. A love seat and pair of straight back chairs were grouped together around a low oval-shaped coffee table. She presently grabbed one of the high-backed chairs, dragging it back across the room with her. Stopping in front of Hope¡¯s desk, she motioned for Faith to have a seat.


    ¡°So, let¡¯s begin your education,¡± Libby said with a grim smirk. ¡°Welcome to your city,¡± she announced as Hope began typing.


    Faith watched transfixed at the screens in front of her as a map of the globe, an outline of blue lines against a black background, was displayed on one of the monitors. As Hope entered coordinates, the map began to shift and move, zooming in on its target, shifting from continent, to country, until she was viewing a digital schematic of the city of Kingsford.


    ¡°As far as we can tell, there are seven major hubs of activity that are of concern in Kingsford.¡± Justice said, taking lead.


    ¡°Seven?¡± Faith questioned shyly. She was feeling overwhelmed by it all¡ªit was all so Jason Bourne like.


    Libby shrugged. ¡°Well, there are probably more, however the information we¡¯ve gathered concentrates only on those groups which have become more notorious. Highland Park, for instance.¡± She tapped a spot on the screen. ¡°Is considered Faerie territory. Which is not surprising really, considering that the fair-folk seem to lay claim to all green space within a metropolitan.¡±


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    ¡°However,¡± Justice said regaining control of the conversation, ¡°The Fae are rarely up to anything nefarious enough to hit our radar.¡±


    Hope giggled.


    ¡°What?¡± Faith asked as both Libby and Justice immediately glared at their sister.


    ¡°She said nefarious,¡± Hope repeated, trying not to laugh. ¡°What was it that Libs said last week about that death cult we disbanded¡ªthey were a motley crew of miscreants.¡± She snorted again. ¡°Miscreants.¡±


    ¡°Good Goddess,¡± Libby said sounding snarky. ¡°You¡¯re suppose to be the smart one.¡±


    ¡°Continuing,¡± Justice went on, ignoring her siblings. ¡°We have eyes on a hoodoo group, led by a bokor that calls himself Papa Darkness.¡± She indicated another spot on the map. ¡°At present, they seem content keeping to themselves, so as far as we¡¯re concerned, they are entitled to their worship in the same way the other religious communities are.¡±


    ¡°Then there¡¯s Sidewinder¡¯s hotel,¡± Libby said speaking up, ¡°It¡¯s a strip club down by the tracks which offer¡¯s temporary lodging in her upper two floors. You know the kind, with rooms for rent by the hour, day or week.¡± With her finger, she began marking several positions on the map. ¡°With its lax standards and proximity to both the train and bus stations, they tend to get a lot of deviant activity.¡± She glanced at Hope suspiciously, ¡°and miscreants.¡±


    Justice nodded. ¡°So, that leaves McGuire¡¯s Pub¡ªa biker bar which has made our radar because of the weres who¡¯ve been known to hang out there, and After Dusk, a Victorian mansion that was converted to a private club for the vamps and vampire enthusiasts.¡±


    Faith wrinkled her nose. ¡°Vampire enthusiasts?¡±


    ¡°Trust me,¡± Libby interjected, her face sour. ¡°You don¡¯t wanna know.¡±


    ¡°And finally, there¡¯s the Pitt. It¡¯s a nightclub, which differs from the others, for the simple fact that unlike the previous two mentions, it precludes itself from being territorial. Instead, it boasts a neutral playing field, where all things that go bump in the night, can literally bump and grind in the night¡ªif they so choose, but make no mistake¡ªit is run by a den of blood thirsty vampires.¡±


    Faith felt her skin flush and ears grow hot. She felt embarrassed, knowing that she herself had been a willing patron there. ¡°Wait.¡± She said suddenly. ¡°I thought you said there were seven hotspots, but you¡¯ve only mentioned six.¡±


    ¡°Oh. Well... there¡¯s also Chinatown,¡± Justice said with a shrug. ¡°Strange shit, is always going down there¡ªbut I thought that one was sorta obvious.¡±


    Her sisters nodded in agreement.


    ¡°Yeah, they seem to have their own level of weird.¡± Libby added. ¡°Lots of ancient magics happening there.¡±


    Faith felt dejected. She didn¡¯t realize that much was going on in the city that she called home. ¡°So much I was unaware of¡ª¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t feel bad.¡± Hope said reassuringly. ¡°Most people are clueless as to what¡¯s happening around them, and usually it¡¯s for the best.¡±


    Justice was nodding in agreement. ¡°And the older the city the deeper the history.     Queen¡¯s college for instance. Did you know it was originally a penitentiary, complete with gallows? They used to hang the condemned in what is now the courtyard. And when they converted it into a school, they incorporated most of the original buildings, which means it is downright lousy with paranormal activity. Thankfully, unless a spirit reaches the level of poltergeist, they¡¯re usually relatively harmless.¡±


    ¡°But we are getting off topic,¡± Libs said matter-of-factly, as she leaned in towards Hope. ¡°Can you bring up those files relating to the Pitt?¡±


    ¡°Sure thing.¡± Hope said as her fingertips flew across the keyboard.


    Almost instantly, a series of photos went cascading across the screen. Most of them were random faces, strangers in a crowd that were meaningless to her, but one of them stood out.


    ¡°Him,¡± Faith said pointing. ¡°He works at the Pitt. He was behind bar the night we were there.¡± She racked her brain to remember his name.


    Hope brought up a file, as several pictures and pertinent documents spread across the screen.


    ¡°Ryan.¡± Faith said finally remembering. There had been a blond gentleman seated at the bar¡ªAllie had seemed particularly taken with him¡ªand he had introduced them. ¡°His name is Ryan.¡±


    Hope nodded in agreement. ¡°Meet Ryan Jerome Taylor.¡± A document which looked a lot like a driver¡¯s license was now foremost on the screen. According to his most recent tax return, he is listed as co-owner and operator of the Pitt.¡±


    ¡°Co-owner?¡± Faith repeated as she watched the screen.


    Hope¡¯s fingers clicked across the keyboard once more. ¡°Looks like there¡¯s a silent partner. One Damon St. Clair.¡±


    ¡°Damon.¡± The name rang familiar. ¡°I can¡¯t be entirely sure, but I think that¡¯s who Allie said she was meeting. It can¡¯t be a coincidence, can it?¡±


    ¡°Doubtful.¡± Libby agreed.


    ¡°What else do we have on him?¡± Justice asked, as Hope once more began typing search strings into multiple windows.


    ¡°Not a lot, actually.¡± Hope said with a frown. ¡°His name pops up here and there¡­ seems he¡¯s been involved with some financial holdings across the city, but it¡¯s all decades old. There¡¯s nothing recent that I can see, apart from the pitt. I¡¯ll keep looking of course, but this guy is a shadow. I¡¯m not even pulling up a residence for him.¡±


    ¡°How can that be?¡¯ Faith asked, amazed at all the information Hope was seemingly maneuvering through all at once.


    Hope shrugged. ¡°The older ones are quite adept at hiding. Their anonymity means everything to them. It¡¯s how they stay alive. But no worries. I¡¯ll just have to broaden my search, delve deeper into the past¡ªif he¡¯s left even one breadcrumb¡ªI will find him.¡±


    ¡°Without a doubt,¡± Justice said proudly. She turned her attention to Faith and Libby. ¡°While she¡¯s doing that, I think the three of us should stake out the Pitt, see if we can get eyes on this guy¡ªif he has interests in this bar, then he¡¯s likely to return. If he is a vampire, as we suspect, it just may be where he¡¯s been finding his victims.¡±


    *


    That evening, Faith sat at a booth in the Pitt. She was sipping a ginger ale as she kept her eyes on the patrons that were happily frolicking within the bar. She envied them. Only a week earlier, she had been as carefree and oblivious as they were. Now she felt nervous as she sipped her soda and tried to blend into the upholstery behind her.


    ¡°How goes it?¡± Justice asked, joining her as she slid into the booth. She was wearing a little black dress. It was simple and sexy, with a halter style neckline that revealed her strong arms and well-defined shoulders. ¡°Spot our mystery man yet?¡±


    Faith shook her head. She too had changed for their trip to the bar, but unlike last week, she hadn¡¯t felt into it. Instead she had gone home and thrown on the first thing she¡¯d seen in her closet¡ªa white lace dress which she¡¯d paired with a faded denim-jacket and pair of ankle boots. ¡°Not so far,¡± she admitted as she anxiously played with the straw in her drink.


    ¡°Relax.¡± Justice said as she reached out a hand to stop her incessant stirring. ¡°Nothings happening tonight. We¡¯re just going to familiarize ourselves with the subject.¡± She suddenly raised a hand to flag down a waitress. ¡°Maybe it¡¯s time you had a real drink to help calm your nerves.¡±


    The bar maid smiled brightly as she approached their table. She was a thin black woman with a headful of bouncy curls and beautiful almond-shaped eyes. ¡°What can I get you ladies?¡±


    ¡°Two mojitos¡¯ please,¡± Justice said ordering for them both, mindless of Faith¡¯s protests. ¡°Sure thing,¡± Teresa said before heading towards the bar.


    ¡°Love, love, love this place,¡± Libby said as she joined them at the booth. She pushed in at Faith¡¯s side of the table, forcing her over so she was sitting opposite her sister. She looked directly at Faith and smirked. ¡°You are officially forgiven for fraternizing here.¡± Libby too was wearing a little black dress, which was a solid fabric from the bust down, with the shoulders and sleeves being made of sheer lace. She had a beer in hand which she was presently making short work of. ¡°I¡¯m just surprised it isn¡¯t busier.¡±


    Faith slid over to make room. ¡°It¡¯s actually crazy busy on the weekend.¡±


    ¡°Did you notice the ward?¡± Justice asked, leaning in close.


    ¡°Uh-huh. Going to make any glamour¡¯s obsolete.¡± Libby acknowledged with a shrug. ¡°Smart move, don¡¯t you think? Nullifying magics?¡±


    Justice nodded. ¡°It¡¯s what I would do. I wonder who did the spell for them? It¡¯s hard core for sure.¡±


    ¡°Might be faerie.¡± Libby considered the options as she took a swig from her beer. ¡°Or Djinn. Warlock maybe?¡±


    Justice smirked at her sister. ¡°And why not a witch?¡±


    ¡°I prefer to believe my fellow witches hold themselves to a higher set of standards.¡±


    ¡°Uh-huh.¡± Justice rolled her eyes. ¡°Cause a fellow witch would never involve themselves with spell-for-hire in order to make a living.¡±


    ¡°Actually,¡± Faith said quietly. ¡°We have a similar ward at the family shop. My grandmother set it up, so we know the identity of whom we¡¯re selling to.¡± She stopped speaking as the waitress appeared at the table with their drinks.


    ¡°Two Mojitos.¡± she smiled as she set the drinks before them.


    ¡°Thanks.¡± Justice said as she passed her a bill. ¡°Keep the change.¡± She waited until the waitress was out of ear shot before continuing. ¡°About that¡ªyour family. You¡¯re a third-generation witch?¡±


    Faith took a sip of her drink while she considered the question. ¡°More like fifth, I think. Nana always talks about her grandmother teaching her.¡±


    ¡°And your mom is a witch too?¡± Liberty asked as she tilted her head towards her before taking another sip from her beer. ¡°No generation-skip?¡±


    ¡°My mom, my aunt and my cousin. Even my uncle does potion-work.¡±


    ¡°So, magics run strong in your family,¡± Justice smiled and glanced at her sister with a knowing look.


    Faith caught the exchange but didn¡¯t think much of it. If she had been in their position, she¡¯d have wanted to know more about who she was working with as well.


    ¡°How much formal training have you had?¡± Libby inquired.


    ¡°Well, my cousin Tish and I were homeschooled potions while we were still in high-school. After graduation, I took a year of practical magic and two years of spell casting, before being accepted at Queens College.¡±


    ¡°Where did you study?¡± Justice asked intrigued. ¡°The Academy of Clandestine Arts? Or Haskell¡¯s School of Arcane Knowledge?¡±


    ¡°A.C.A.¡± Faith admitted. ¡°My cousin is enrolled there now.¡±


    ¡°Nice.¡± Libby exclaimed.


    ¡°So, Faith,¡± Justice said cautiously, ¡°If you don¡¯t mind my asking, why college? Why not pursue a career more suited to your mystical talents?¡±


    ¡°I haven¡¯t ruled that out.¡± Faith sipped at her drink. She was enjoying her Mojito more than she thought she would. With the sisters at the booth with her, she was beginning to relax as her nervousness melted away. She shrugged as she continued. ¡°My family wants me to have a well-rounded education. So, I¡¯m taking some business classes, some basic programing and a psychology course. More than likely, Tish and I will take over the family business.¡±


    ¡°Or,¡± Justice said casually. ¡°You could join us instead. Round out our coven¡­do something incredible with your life.¡±


    Faith almost choked on her drink. She stopped short of a spit-take. Had she really heard them correctly? ¡°You want me to join you?¡±


    ¡°Your aspect is water, isn¡¯t it?¡± Justice continued ignoring the surprise in her voice.


    ¡°How did you guess?¡±


    ¡°Easy. You are well rounded, easy to get along with¡ªvery go with the flow: water. Can you guess what our aspects are?¡±


    Faith thought about it for a moment before responding. She thought she had this. ¡°Well, I think Hope is definitely an air aspect.¡±


    ¡°How so?¡± Liberty asked as she waved her arm. She had finished her beer and was trying to get the attention of the bar maid.


    ¡°Her personality is just so light and bubbly¡ªso friendly.¡±


    ¡°And me? What¡¯s my aspect?¡± Libby challenged her.


    Faith bit her lip. ¡°Fire. Sorry, but you¡¯re a bit of a hot-head.¡±


    Liberty cast a dirty look, while her sister chortled at her expense.


    ¡°Which means that, you¡ªby process of elimination¡ªwould be earth. Also,¡± Faith shrugged. ¡°You seem very grounded to me.¡±


    ¡°Bang on.¡± Justice said with a smile. ¡°So, at the risk of sounding like a corny romance novel; you must realize, that you, complete us. I mean, I know it¡¯s soon, that we¡¯ve only just met, but that spell we cast together¡ªdid you not notice how bright it was, how powerful?¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s right.¡± Liberty had finally succeeded in getting the barmaids attention. ¡°That did sound like the back of a cheesy romance novel.¡±


    Justice stuck her tongue out at her.


    ¡°But in all seriousness,¡± Libby continued. ¡°My sisters and I are a well-oiled team, but your addition increased our output exponentially.¡± She dropped her voice as Teresa arrived at their table. ¡°At least it¡¯s something you should consider.¡± Loudly she asked, ¡°What do you say ladies? Another round?¡±

 NINE

    NINE


    It was a common enough occurrence at the White Willow, with its overabundance of peculiar and curious goods; there was often a similar amount of equally curious patrons. Friday evening was no exception, as a gaggle of high-school girls had happened upon the shop and were currently perusing through her assortment of wares. Unlike the regulars who were quick and to the point, these girls were taking their time as they browsed; often giggling, sometimes whispering among themselves as they did. Every now and again one of them would discover something which piqued their fancy enough for them to call out loudly and excitedly to the others.


    It wasn¡¯t long before the group made their way to the counter with their assortment of purchases, a variety of candles, incense and bath salts. At the counter, Tish happily rang them through, while three girls, two of which seemed to be egging on the third, approached the second girl behind the cash.


    ¡°Go ahead, ask her.¡± One girl urged as they approached.


    ¡°I understand you make potions?¡± The teen asked. She was petite, with her dark hair done up in tiny buns on either side of her head.


    ¡°Uh, huh¡± The salesgirl, a pretty blond with crystal blue eyes replied, while barely looking up from the textbook she was reading.


    ¡°So, could you make me a love potion?¡± She asked shyly, while the other girls giggled nervously behind her.


    ¡°Nope.¡± The salesgirl replied matter-of-factly as she raised a pen held hand to point at a sign on the wall behind her. It read: Absolutely, NO Dark Magic.


    ¡°Since when is a love potion, dark magic?¡± A second girl challenged; her tone snarky.


    Faith glanced up at the brazen teen, a slim black girl with her long hair parted down the middle and plaited neatly on each side. She recognized the school crest on her sweater immediately, it was from Briar Hill Academy: an exclusive all-girl school catering to the rich and privileged.


    Faith fixed the girl with a look of exasperation and an equally haughty tone, channeling her innermost teen. ¡°Since when is it not?¡± she asked, while trying to ignore her cousin who was smirking at her from behind the till.


    ***


    On Friday afternoon, Damon awoke before his alarm was set to go off. He lay in bed, staring at the ceiling through the darkness, enjoying the sweet ethereal feeling one often got after waking from an immensely deep sleep. If he closed his eyes, he could have easily drifted back to sleep until his alarm went off. Instead, he stretched out his arms and legs, marveling at the space of his king-sized bed and how nice it was to not have to share it.


    Rolling out of bed, he sat on its edge for a moment as he reached for his cell phone. It was only late afternoon¡ªnot even dinner time for most. He set the phone back down leaving it to charge, but not before he had dismissed his eight-o-clock alarm. Stretching, he detangled himself from the entirety of the blankets before crossing the room and releasing the door latch.


    Stepping from the room, he immediately heard the sound of weapon-fire coming from the television in the living area below. Choosing to ignore it for the moment, he instead slipped into the kitchen and set about making a pot of coffee.


    While food was typically off limits, Damon was still thankfully able to enjoy coffee¡ªblack with a touch of sugar¡ªand even more thankfully, alcohol. It helped to diversity a diet that was otherwise explicitly one of blood.


    Blood and alcohol, they were truly his only two vices and there were strengths and weaknesses to be found in both. Blood. It was their life-source. There was no getting around that. It fed them, created them and in many ways ruled them. Fledgling vampires still unable to control their bloodlust could easily become slaves to it; while alcohol, was one of the few things their lazy digestive system could still endure. It came in an overwhelming variety of types, flavours and blends and for an unmuddied palate, it was a truly sensual experience. On the downside, with his superior healing ability, it took copious amounts of the stuff to get drunk.


    Now drinking from a human who¡¯d been experimenting with narcotics, or one who was heavily inebriated was an entirely different story. Whereas ingesting narcotics directly, seemed to have little effect on him, the drinking of compromised blood went straight to his head. On more than one occasion, Damon had found himself helplessly high from drinking the blood of a user.


    Coffee brewing, he leaned down over the drop to his living room, calling out to the idiots below. ¡°Nick, Nate? Coffee?¡±


    In response he got a nod from Nick and a head shake from the other one. Getting out a second mug, he opened the refrigerator to look for the creamer. He found it wedged between two white plastic containers, the kind yogurt might come in, however Damon knew the true contents held within. Nathan had brought the containers with him¡ªstraight from the butchers.


    Drinking blood other than human, had results as varied as the donor. He found animal blood for instance, to be gamier than that of a human, so much so that he detested drinking it, while Nathan chose to consume nothing but.


    Faerie blood, he¡¯d sampled on only a few occasions. It left him feeling giddy and whimsical, light-hearted, and even silly; entirely not at all like himself. Consuming the blood of demons, which he had limited experience with¡ªhe had once sampled a vial of warlock blood while clubbing at After Dusk¡ªcould leave the drinker with temporary increases in strength or other latent abilities. He still swore that on the night in question, he had conjured himself a portal home when no ride could be found. One minute he was outside the mansion, the next he¡¯d been in his bedroom with a buxom guest at his side. When morning came, neither could remember the trip there, but for a strange rushing-water sound and a flash of silver sparks and light.


    The most intimate bloodletting however, always occurred between vampires and their kin. There was something in sharing your lifeblood with another as they fed on their own, that was so very personal¡ªespecially when between lovers.


    It was also how their species created life¡ªthrough defying death; by draining their chosen down to the very last heartbeat and then offering them new life by feeding them your own. For the first few days, fledglings are near helpless as their body adjusts to its new way of operating. They fall into the helpless suaine, a deep reparative sleep; and without their sire there to feed them at intervals, they would usually not survive the experience.


    There was also another lesser known reason for clans to share blood. Vampires with communal bloodlines would often experienced a psychic link of sorts. For this reason, adult vampires would often exchange blood in a pact between them, to help protect, strengthen and unify the clan.


    With the coffee brewed he poured two mugs, before descending to his living room and joining the occupants below. Nathan, who proved entirely lost without his drinking buddy, had appeared upon his doorstep sometime late Monday evening. Since his arrival, he and Nick had been camping out in the living room; watching movies late into the day, drinking beer and crashing wherever their heads happened to land.


    Bloody hell, he thought as he stepped across the minefield of empty beer bottles, dirty plates and empty food containers that had become his living room floor. He set Nick¡¯s coffee on the table in front of him, before settling into his easy chair. The sofa was already contaminated with the likes of Nathan and Nick, who controllers in hand were absorbed in a co-op game on the Para-box.


    ¡°Evening,¡± Nick acknowledged him as he sat down.


    Nathan, immersed in the game, didn¡¯t look up. Instead, he was barking out orders to Nick. ¡°Quick, cover me.  I¡¯m making a move.¡±


    Their avatars were outfitted in full military garb and seemed to be in an apocalyptic, end-of-days type setting, using the husks of abandoned cars for cover as they advanced towards a series of war-torn buildings from which they were taking heavy fire.


    ¡°Sec.¡± Nick replied, changing weapons as the screen suddenly split in two. The left side still contained the original scene, while the right now had a close-up of the building as seen through the scope of Nick¡¯s high-powered sniper rifle. He began laying down fire as Nathan¡¯s avatar advanced, expertly picking off the other players who appeared to take a shot at Nathan from the doorway and windows of the buildings beyond.


    ¡°Nice work,¡± Nathan commented as he reached the outermost edges of the abandoned vehicles they¡¯d hid behind. ¡°You coming?


    ¡°Sure thing, pussy.¡± Nick replied as the screen once more became one and his avatar sprinted and leapt, sliding across the hoods of the rusted-out cars ahead of him, until he was at Nate¡¯s side.


    ¡°Ready?¡± Nate asked as his character suddenly sprinted out from behind cover and towards the building. Nick¡¯s avatar soon followed, amidst a rain of gunfire that seemed to be coming from the second floor.


    Reaching the door, the two entered the building, taking the stairs two at a time until they arrived at the floor above. Progressing on, they took out a few NPC¡¯s as well as some injured players as they made their way down the hallway to the room from where the gunfire had originated.


    Kicking in the door, Nate went high, Nick low, as they shot up the room, dispatching the enemy cell and finalizing their objection. Immediately, Nathan¡¯s character moved forward to retrieve the briefcase which would complete their mission and move them on to the next level in the game, when he was suddenly shot thrice in the back.


    The screen once more split in two as blood-spatter and bullet holes covered the left side, along with a cryptic TERMINATED that appeared like it had been stamped on the screen in red ink.


    ¡°What the hell was that?¡± Nathan demanded as he dropped his controller in dismay.


    ¡°Friendly fire.¡± Nick said with a smirk as his avatar picked up the briefcase. His side of the screen now lit up with a series of player statistics and rewards as well as a large MISSION COMPLETE that was stamped in bright neon green. Before continuing, he marched his character over to sit him square above Nate¡¯s avatar¡¯s face. ¡°Teabag!¡± he exclaimed jovially.


    ¡°Seriously?¡± Nathan inquired while failing to keep a straight face. ¡°Nobody does that shit anymore!¡±


    ¡°Aww. Don¡¯t be mad kitteh, we can play again later.¡± Nick said as he shut the game down before turning and winking at Damon.


    ¡°What is with you today and all these bloody cat references?¡± He turned to Damon for clarification. ¡°Is this some strange wolf thing that I¡¯m not aware of?¡±


    Damon in mid-swallow, choked on his mouthful of coffee. Drawn on Nathans face, specifically on both of his cheeks, were three horizonal lines in what Damon assumed was none other than permanent marker. A tiny black triangle adorned the tip of his nose and completed the look.


    Damon shook his head bemused. ¡°Honestly, I have no clue why he does the things he does.¡± He said as he watched Nick from the corner of his eye; he was holding his hands up on either side of Nate¡¯s head, making little triangle-ears with his thumb and forefinger and grinning like a mad man. ¡°Why don¡¯t we ask him?¡± Damon said with a curious raise of his eyebrow.


    As they both turned towards him, Nick quickly dropped his hands, shrugging instead. ¡°Boredom, mostly.¡± He admitted.


    ¡°Speaking of which,¡± Nathan turned towards Damon. ¡°Is he free to go?¡±


    Damon shrugged. ¡°I don¡¯t see why not. Provided he can shift.¡±


    ¡°Great.¡± Nathan immediately jumped up, stretching as he spoke. ¡°I¡¯m gonna head home for a nap, shower n¡¯ shave and meet up with you later.¡± He said to Nick before reaching for a fist-bump.


    ¡°You, are uh, welcome to shower here, if you¡¯d like.¡± Damon politely offered.


    ¡°Nah. He¡¯s okay.¡± Nick immediately answered, frowning at Damon. ¡°We don¡¯t need him hogging all the hot water.¡±


    ¡°Or you could brush your teeth,¡± Damon continued undeterred. ¡°Run a comb through your hair. Perhaps just take a nice long look in the mirror.¡±


    ¡°Nah. I¡¯m good.¡± Nate was already heading towards the balcony and eyeing Damon suspiciously.


    ¡°Uh, it¡¯s still daylight.¡± Nick reminded him.


    ¡°Yeah, I know¡ªsunglasses,¡± Nate replied pulling a pair out of his breast pocket.


    ¡°No.¡± Damon shook his head. ¡°He means, use the front door, Puddy Tat.¡±


    When Nate had departed, Damon headed to the bedroom to get dressed. He came out wearing a pair of jeans and a long-sleeved V-neck. For appearances, he did his best to dress with the seasons, even though it often had little to do with his comfort. It was only the second week of October, and for that time of year the days were still relatively warm. He pushed the sleeves of his shirt up as he joined Nick in the living room below.


    He was sprawled out on the couch, in a Henley and a pair of gym shorts which Damon recognized not only as his own, but as the same pair he¡¯d been wearing for most of the week. Nick had his arms tucked behind his head as he gazed toward the ceiling caught up in an apparent daydream. For the moment he hadn¡¯t noticed his return. ¡°Hey,¡± he called out to him, and watched as Nick lazily looked towards him. ¡°Do you, wanna go for a walk?¡±


    That got his attention. Nick immediately righted himself. ¡°Really?¡±


    He nodded, unable to hold back his amusement. Nick was on his feet and moving like he thought Damon might change his mind. He passed him on the way to the stairs. ¡°I just need a second to get changed,¡± he¡¯d said, before disappearing into the bedroom.


    Damon moved to the entrance, retrieved his sneakers from the closet and grabbed his sunglasses and keys from the bowl on the table by the door.


    Niko came bounding out a moment later at full tilt, rounded the turn from the kitchen and braked to a stop at his feet. Damon took a moment to inspect him; specifically, the shoulder that had been injured. Nick had fully healed in his human form, but since the incident this was his first attempt at a shift.


    ¡°You good to go?¡± he asked and received a sharp bark and a wag of the tail in return.


    Downstairs, he crossed the lobby with Niko leading the way. He saw no sign of the caretaker, Wes Williams, whom he¡¯d been hoping to run into. He wanted to put the elderly man¡¯s mind to rest and a stop to his curious inquiries.


    Once outside, they walked the stone pathway to the street, Niko¡¯s tail at a constant wag as he went. On top of the stone fence that encircled the lawn leading up to the apartments, a fluffy white cat with striking green eyes, swished her tail angrily at his approach. A low yowl soon followed as she locked eyes with Niko, who seemed to notice her for the first time.


    ¡°You can relax, kitty.¡± Damon said with a smirk. ¡°He has no interest in you.¡±


    The afternoon was warm as a slight breeze kicked up the fallen leaves. Autumn had arrived and she had painted the trees that lined the street in deep shades of orange, gold and red. The sky was a brilliant blue and filled with billowy white clouds. They passed others who too were out for a walk on this beautiful day, many with four legged friends of their own. Most of the dogs they passed were well behaved, with only a few that wanted to drag their owners along¡ªfrom one pee spot to the next, it seemed¡ªhowever none were all that anxious to come face to face with Niko. While most humans who passed them, smiled brightly at what they assumed was a blue-eyed husky, their dogs were as unlikely fooled. Damon too, saw only his wolfish features and he imagined that other nocturnal dwellers could recognize them as well.


    They reached Highland Park in an almost unconscious fashion. At least Damon hadn¡¯t intentionally led the way. The spacious grassland was one of the largest parks city wide and hosted an assortment of amenities to be enjoyed by all. There was a beautiful flower garden, which had become a photo stop for not only sightseers, but many a wedding party as well. A paved trail that weaved in and out of the treeline as it worked its way along the outskirts of the park, was used by cyclists and joggers alike. Wide cobblestone paths marked the way through to the centre of the park, where a large pond was home to many waterfowl, including ducks, geese and even a pair of swans. Decorative iron benches surrounded the water feature which were often enjoyed by seniors; who liked to feed the birds, and the nannies with their strollers; who were often seen reading while their charges napped. There were playgrounds for the older children, and an established picnic area with restrooms, drinking fountains and tables set up under large metal awnings.


    As soon as they passed under the archway, Niko bolted. He¡¯d kept politely by Damon¡¯s side for the entirety of the walk, but now faced with a wide expansion of yard he was determined to make full use of it. He was literally the fastest thing on four legs and Damon lost sight of him only a few seconds later as he disappeared into the treeline.


    He decided to follow, taking his time as he did. With Nick in his wolf form he had no chance of winning a footrace¡ªat least not in any way that wouldn¡¯t draw suspicion towards him. He entered the forest, feeling the drop in temperature as he made his way to the jogging trail. The air here smelt clean and earthy. Large pines and other coniferous loomed overhead, dropping layers of needles and cones amongst an assortment of smaller bushes, grasses and lush looking ferns. The trail here was marked by the occasional log-bench, although for the moment the area was deserted. The breeze kicked-up sharply and he attempted to pick up Niko¡¯s scent. He thought it strange, how Nick often had a faint doggie smell, even with his meticulous bathing habits, while Niko hadn¡¯t even the slightest hint of Nick¡¯s scent. He wondered if it was a naturally derived defense mechanism that allowed the wolven to not only blend into an animal-born pack, but disappear within their own as well, making it impossible to pinpoint any specific member from the rest of the pack.


    Damon took a quick glance around before taking advantage of the lack of people and dashing up the trail at highspeed himself. His burst of speed rewarded him with a glimpse of something furry and white tearing along the underbrush sidelong of the trail. A moment later, Niko burst past him, circling wide and disappearing once more into the bush. Damon followed and once he was in an area secluded from the trail, he came upon Nick who was waiting for him, standing waist deep behind a dark-green shrub, which Damon thought might appropriately have been a dogwood. The play at modesty, he knew, was not at all for his sake, but for the benefit of any bystanders who might happen by.


    ¡°Wanna play ball?¡± Nick looked at him hopefully as he approached.


    Damon cursed softly. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, I didn¡¯t even think to bring one.¡±


    Nick smiled mischievously. ¡°What if I knew where to find one?¡± he asked with a raise of his eyebrow.


    Damon thought about this. ¡°You buried one, didn¡¯t you.¡±


    Nick did a slow shrug. ¡°May-be¡± he said before dropping to all fours and emerging once more in his wolf form.


    He led him at a reasonable speed this time, back across the main part of the park to a wide-open spot on the opposite side of the pond. There was a flowerbed here, with a silver birch, surrounded by many short shrubs and flowering plants, as well as an oversized white stone. Niko went straight to the rock before sitting and placing a paw on it.


    Damon glanced around before he too entered the little flower patch and taking hold of the stone, rolled it aside. There was a hole beneath in which he found a black flak sack. Inside there was a change of clothes, an old metal cookie tin that rattled when he disturbed it, and underneath, a couple of tennis balls. He removed one of the balls, before replacing the contents, dropping the bag back into the hole, and rolling the stone back into place.


    He smiled and shook his head. ¡°You are so spoiled,¡± he said before moving out into the clearing and initiating the most epic game of fetch.


    An hour later, they headed back. It was close to dinner time and most of the pedestrians that had been out in droves were no longer on the street. As they approached home, he failed to notice the white panel van, which was creeping slowly behind them, until it finally stopped, just as they reached the gateway in front of their yard. Two men, one with a long metal pole, had stepped out to follow them.


    ¡°Hey,¡± the first on scene called out to him and he stopped and turned curiously in his direction. ¡°You can¡¯t have that dog off leash. It¡¯s a three-hundred dollar fine,¡± he said pointing to Niko, who too had stopped head-tilted curiously as they approached.


    He glanced down at Niko and pretended to notice him for the first time. ¡°Oh, him?¡± He asked sounding most surprised. ¡°He¡¯s not mine.¡±


    Niko turned and regarded him then, his eyes narrowing accusingly.


    That was all the animal control officers needed to hear. Immediately they began calling softly to Niko, with chants of ¡°who¡¯s a good boy?¡± and ¡°who want¡¯s a treat?¡± as they inched towards him, the one with the pole, attempting to flank him.


    Niko huffed loudly, as the one with the pole finally lunged, before he darted quickly up the street with the officers in hot pursuit. Damon watched for a moment as Niko led them away. He would stop once he was a few feet ahead of them and pretend to sniff around as he waited for them to catch up. He would allow them get close, to come up almost on top of him, spoon-feeding them hope, before once more darting off on his merry little chase. Damon chuckled. They had absolutely no chance of catching him.


    Smirking, he turned up the walkway, abruptly coming to a halt when he spotted Wes Williams. He was standing just beyond the wall, with an open view of the street, a pile of leaves at his feet, yard rake still in hand. He had stopped raking and was regarding Damon with a less than happy expression. Yep. Wes had no doubt witnessed the entire betrayal.


    The grin departed Damon¡¯s face as he continued up the walk. As the came alongside the caretaker, he cleared his throat, shrugged sheepishly and said, ¡°He needed the exercise.¡±


    *


    Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.


    At eight o¡¯clock it was time to close up shop. Faith grabbed a broom to do a quick sweep of the floor, while Tish started to break down the cash register. As she swept alongside the window, she was startled by a familiar face, who immediately disappeared from view.


    ¡°You know,¡± She said turning to her cousin. ¡°I don¡¯t mind closing up, if you¡¯d like to head home early.¡±


    ¡°Oh?¡± Tish sounded interested. ¡°You sure?¡±


    ¡°Yeah. Absolutely.¡± Faith said with a smile. She hoped she didn¡¯t seem too eager. She felt guilty hiding the truth from Tish, with whom she usually shared everything; but what she¡¯d been up to lately wasn¡¯t something she wanted Tish involved in.


    As soon as Tish departed, Faith ran to the door. Opening it, she called out, ¡°All clear,¡± as Justice and Liberty seemingly appeared out of nowhere. They were dressed down once more in cargo pants and boots, but this time they were each wearing a dark hoodie as well. Together, they quickly entered the shop.


    ¡°How did you do that?¡± Faith asked once she had closed and locked the door.


    ¡°What, this?¡± Libby asked with a smirk. Raising the hood on her jacket, she immediately vanished. A moment later, she revealed herself once more by lowering it.


    ¡°Cloaking spell.¡± Justice stated. ¡°We made one for you too.¡± She tossed a dark hoodie towards her.


    ¡°Thanks,¡± Faith said as she quickly slipped it on. She immediately zipped it up and pulled up the hood. ¡°This is so¡­ weird.¡± She said, as she glanced down at where her body should have been. It was still there, but in a hollowed-out sort of way. She could see an outline of her hands as she held them up before her face, but at the same time, she could look right through them too. It was like she was made of weightless glass. ¡°Is this what a ghost feels like?¡± She lowered the hood and her body reassuringly appeared. It was certainly cool; although a bit disconcerting as well¡ªlosing yourself like that¡ªshe supposed it would take some getting used to.


    Libby laughed. ¡°Maybe. Next time I see one I¡¯ll ask.¡±


    ¡°So, why the hoodies?¡± Faith asked as she went back to her sweeping.


    Justice and Liberty were casually glancing at items as they strolled through the shop.


    ¡°Well, we thought we might need to make a quick get away.¡± Justice said as she examined the scented oils. She was taking her time, sniffing the corks one by one. ¡°Ooh. This would be nice in a body wash,¡± she said to her sister, as she offered her a sniff.


    ¡°Yeah, that is nice.¡± Liberty said. To Faith she added, ¡°It¡¯s not everyday that we¡¯re out hunting vampires; it¡¯s best to be prepared.¡±


    ¡°Speaking of which,¡± Justice said. ¡°Have you been practicing that spell I taught you?¡±


    Both sisters turned to stare at her then.


    Faith hesitated. Her felt her ears grow hot.


    ¡°Oh, Faith.¡± Justice said sounding disappointed.


    ¡°It¡¯s not like I¡¯m not practicing it.¡± Faith said quickly. ¡°It¡¯s just that, I haven¡¯t quiet got the hang of it yet.¡±


    ¡°Yeah? Well, you¡¯d better figure it out soon,¡± Libby said dryly. She was clearly unimpressed. ¡°Cause you¡¯re about to be facing down a vampire.¡±


    ¡°Me? Why me?¡± She asked surprised.


    ¡°This is your gig. It¡¯s your friend on the line. You need to take the lead here.¡±


    Faith¡¯s shoulders dropped. She felt crushed. She must have looked it too; cause Justice immediately came over to place a hand on her shoulder. ¡°Libs is right. We¡¯re here to support you, but you¡¯ve got to step up.¡±


    Faith¡¯s tummy churned. The idea terrified her, but with the sisters by her side she knew she could do it. ¡°I will. When the time comes, I¡¯ll be ready.¡± She hoped she sounded a lot surer than she felt.


    Part 2


    Across town, Damon was in the midst of reclaiming his living room, when his cell phone went off from the bedroom above. Climbing the stairs, he reached it just before the voicemail picked up. He answered as he carried it back down to the living room with him, intent on continuing his work below.


    ¡°Hello, mate.¡±  Ryan¡¯s familiar voice came over the line sounding serious. ¡°Please tell me that you haven¡¯t been a naughty boy.¡±


    ¡°Not of late,¡± Damon replied curiously. ¡°Why, what¡¯s up?¡±


    ¡°Turn on the tele.¡±


    Damon paused and began searching the room for the remote, finally finding it on the floor amongst the controllers for the Para-Box. He was about to question which station to turn it to, when Ryan¡¯s deep voice rang out once more across the airwaves.


    ¡°Local¡± he said briefly.


    Damon snatched up the remote, flipping channels until he came upon the evening news where they were featuring the story of a missing woman. It wasn¡¯t until they flashed a picture of her across the screen that Damon understood why Ryan was calling him. It was the college student he had met at the bar a few nights earlier. Her hair was slightly shorter, as the photo was from her high school graduation, otherwise there was no doubt that it was the same beauty from before. Until that moment, he had forgotten all about her.


    ¡°Allie,¡± he whispered, unaware that he had said her name aloud.


    ¡°Yeah. Gone missing.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s unfortunate. Do they have any leads?¡± Damon asked absentmindedly, as he went back to straightening, folding a blanket that had taken refuge on his sofa. ¡°When did she disappear?¡±


    There was a lingering hesitation over the line.


    Damon straightened suddenly as the epiphany hit him with the grace and finesse of a sledgehammer. ¡°Bloody hell! You think I had something to do with this?¡± He dropped the folded blanket to the sofa beneath.


    Ryan¡¯s voice was somber. ¡°Well¡­ Did you?¡±


    Damon felt his temper flare and his neck grow hot. ¡°Of course not. Why would you even¡ª


    ¡°Molly¡¯s been talking trash.¡±


    ¡°Yeah? Well Molly, can bite my lily-white ass.¡± He dropped down to the sofa, and frowning brought his free hand to his brow as he considered things. What the hell was Molly playing at? After all, hadn¡¯t she been the one who had put him on to this girl in the first place? Obviously, she was once more trying to cause trouble, which regrettably, did seem to be her favourite pastime. Once upon a time, Damon might have enjoyed the wicked games she played, perhaps even participated. But that was before Nathan and frankly he had grown increasingly tired of forever cleaning-up after her mistakes.


    ¡°When¡¯s the last time you saw her?¡±


    ¡°Allie? Last Friday night, alive and kicking. Dragged off in fact, by a small blond chick.¡±


    Ryan sighed, and Damon could hear the relief in his voice.


    ¡°Good to know. At least whatever happened to her didn¡¯t occur in my nightclub. The last thing we need is the law snooping around. We have more than enough problems as it is.¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± Damon responded. But he didn¡¯t feel as sure. He wasn¡¯t ready to rule out Molly¡¯s involvement in the whole thing. She had been up to something that night, the way she had insisted on him buying Allie a drink.


    And there¡¯d been something else as well. When he¡¯d finally returned after speaking with Ryan; Molly, Jess and Teresa had all been at his table and Allie had been dancing, strangely trancelike, alone at the railing¡­


    ¡°Speaking of which,¡± Ryan continued rather urgently, interrupting his thoughts. ¡°How¡¯s our favourite problem child doing? He come clean to you yet?¡±


    Damon sighed, relenting to Ryan¡¯s obvious attempt at changing the subject. ¡°Uh. Yes and no. He¡¯s having a hard time confiding in me. He says he took care of the hunter, and that I believe, but he¡¯s still holding back something. I cut him loose earlier tonight. I¡¯m sure he and Nate will be on your doorstep soon enough.¡±


    ¡°You want me to keep an eye on him?¡±


    ¡°Nah. I¡¯ve already got it covered. Tuesday while Nick was showering, I may have mentioned my suspicions about his pack to Nate; how he isn¡¯t safe.¡±


    ¡°Okay.¡±


    ¡°I may have also let slip that Nathan had an episode of his own, so¡ª¡±


    ¡°They¡¯ll be watching out for one other. Nice.¡±


    ¡°Yeah. It was the best I could do, two birds and all¡­¡± He finished with a shrug.


    ***


    ¡°You found St. Clair?¡±


    Back at the farmhouse, Faith could hardly contain herself. She sat at the chair by Hope¡¯s desk, her knee anxiously bouncing. She felt giddy, nervous and excited, all at once.


    Wednesday had been a bust. Thursday too. They had staked out the Pitt both nights, but their mystery man simply hadn¡¯t shown. Justice and Liberty hadn¡¯t seemed worried though. He was a silent partner, they¡¯d said. He probably didn¡¯t have any hands-on stake in the business.


    Their reasoning only seemed to leave Faith more uneasy. If he wasn¡¯t a regular at the club¡ªif Allie and Damon had only crossed paths by some random fluke of events¡ªthen how would they ever find her? He was their only lead, the last person who had supposedly seen Allie. But now, this new information; it gave her hope.


    ¡°Yes and no.¡± Hope said mysteriously. ¡°Remember how I said the older ones were more adept at hiding?¡±


    Faith nodded.


    ¡°Well, he¡¯s basically been hiding under our noses this entire time. Damon St. Clair was originally, a member of clan Saint¡¯clair, which I know sounds the same, but it¡¯s spelt differently¡ªanyway, he now goes by Sinclair and this is what I¡¯ve got on Damon Sinclair.¡±


    The next moment she tapped open a file to display all that she had found. Documents and pictures flooded her screen.


    ¡°Wow.¡± Faith said, and for once she wasn¡¯t being sarcastic.


    ¡°Yeah. This guy has holdings and properties all over the city. Old money¡ªand lots of it.¡±


    ¡°Did you find a home address?¡± Faith asked hopeful.


    ¡°I have a driver¡¯s license,¡± she said as she brought the document up.


    Faith breathed a sigh of relief. For once maybe things were going their way. If he didn¡¯t show up at the club, then at least they had a new way to find him¡ª


    ¡°But I wouldn¡¯t celebrate just yet.¡± Hope continued dashing her hopes. ¡°It¡¯s probably just a front, I doubt it has any real meaning to him.¡±


    ¡°Great. So, we¡¯re back to square one.¡±


    ¡°Not necessarily.¡± Hope said shaking her head. ¡°We may not have a working address, but we¡¯ve got something better. We have his picture; his face, and with facial recognition software and the overwhelming amount of social media, news footage and CCTV that¡¯s out on the streets¡­¡±


    ¡°Are you saying we can, what¡­track him?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯ll take some time.¡± She brought up a program that had been running in the background, which seemed to be shuffling through faces, one after the next. ¡°But yes, Faith. That¡¯s exactly what I¡¯m saying. His days of hiding in the shadows are over.¡±


    *


    He was restless. It was a feeling in the base of his spine. A knot of pent up energy that no amount of stretching could ever hope to release. He¡¯d needed to get out and do something¡ªto help relieve the boredom he¡¯d been feeling. It seemed like it had been forever and a day since he¡¯d last been out to a club, and to find himself here, in an establishment that catered to humans no less, was exactly what he¡¯d been craving. He wanted all of it: the dim lighting that left comfortable shadows; the loud music and pounding bass that arose from the dance floor; and the heat and closeness of the crowd, as he slipped through a sea of warm bodies. There was something intimate in it all, how the crowd pushed him into the space and heat of a stranger in a way that would never be acceptable on the streets yet was blissfully ignored here. And the club-goers; all showered clean and dressed to impress¡ªperhaps looking for a version of their own escape¡ªengaged his olfactory senses with an overwhelming array of scents and fragrances. There was the smell of recently showered skin; the spicy musk of aftershave; and the delicate hint of perfume, all mingling in a way that delighted him so.


    At the bar, he ordered a drink. Something dark and hard and old, which too he savoured. He rolled the liquid along the inside of his glass before first taking a sniff, and then a sip as the aroma and flavour; somewhat sweet with a hint of caramel and a slightly smoky finish, washed over his palate.


    He was seated on a stool at the end of the bar, where he was granted an unobstructed view of its entire length. From here he could watch the club goers as they interacted with one another, much like a spectator at a sporting event. It was intriguing to watch the different groups as they mingled and flirted with one another. Groups of men hunted ladies, like wolves after deer. He watched as two young men approached a pair of ladies only to find out that the beautiful duo was only interested in one another. Undaunted, the gentlemen quickly moved on to their next prey.


    A few seats down sat a couple that only had eyes for each other. They were leaning in close as they chatted, and the woman, a sexy brunette, kept tucking a strand of hair nervously behind her ear as they talked. They looked rather sweet together and he found himself feeling a bit envious of the pair.


    It¡¯d been a while since he had been in any kind of meaningful relationship, and the prospect of one felt as equally daunting as it was appealing. This evening there was no shortage of potential candidates as handsome men and beautiful women were everywhere to be found. He wasn¡¯t so na?ve as to believe that true love was here to be found within the walls of the Pitt, but stranger things had been known to happen.


    A mixed group of beauties at the far end of the bar caught his attention. Unlike most of the club goers who seemed to be on the prowl for a hook-up, these individuals seemed more relaxed as they hung with one another, more like old friends. The bartender too, seemed familiar with them as he kept furnishing them with drinks, while the other patrons struggled to get his attention. Regulars. Every bar had them. They were the bread and butter of the business. Having a steady group of regulars helped to draw in the crowds on slower nights, and often kept the place pumping on busy ones.


    He watched as the familiar group divided; a pair of girls heading quickly past him hand in hand towards the dance floor. Setting his sights on one of them, he quickly finished his drink and decided to make his move. If he got shot down, it would be less embarrassing with half the number of onlookers.


    He began working his way through the crowd towards the other end of the bar. When he arrived, there were two gentlemen left at the bar: a blonde and a brunette. The blonde was of little interest to him, but the brunette was tall, nicely built and very attractive. Better yet, he had a smile which lit up his entire face. It made him feel very approachable. As it was, he found himself attracted to men who were larger than him, and in comparison, ladies that were smaller¡ªand he¡¯d always had a thing for dark haired individuals with pale skin.


    He was almost in front of him when a second brunette, this one petite and wearing a killer black dress, forced her way past him to stand in front of the two. Whatever she¡¯d said, made the welcoming smile slip from his face. But now he was standing immediately in front of him, and the man had noticed him and was starting at him expectantly.


    He tried to keep his voice strong; confident. He could do this¡­What was the worse that could happen?


    Well, you could get punched in the face.


    He swallowed, and before he could change his mind loudly blurted, ¡°Can I buy you a drink?¡± He hoped he hadn¡¯t flinched in preparation for a fist. Why oh why, did you have to think about getting punched in the face? Truly, he was his own worse enemy.


    Instead, the man¡¯s eyes seemed to soften. From this distance he could now see that they were a darker shade of blue.


    ¡°That would be lovely.¡±


    The little brunette had spun on her heels to face him, and for a moment he was left speechless. She was smiling at him, her face alight with the prospects of a suitor; and she was gorgeous in her own respect. She had large brown eyes, the colour of chocolate and her lips were painted in scarlet. Her ebony hair fell in long waves past her shoulders, and her little black dress did nothing to hide the curves beneath. You could get lost in those curves for days, he thought.


    But it was the look upon her face: a mixture of surprise and longing¡ªshe¡¯d thought the invitation belonged to her¡ªand in that moment she was standing heart exposed in front of him and there was no way that he could have let her believe otherwise.


    He cleared his throat and put on his warmest smile.


    ¡°Very lovely indeed.  I¡¯m Colin.¡± He said as he extended his hand, taking hers gently.


    ¡°Molly.¡±


    ¡°What can I get you, Molly?¡±


    He pushed his way to the bar to stand next to the dark-haired gentleman, who had since lost interest in the exchange and returned to his friend without incident. Colin now wondered if he knew the invitation had been for him, or if he too thought it was for the beautiful Molly.


    Molly asked for a whiskey sour, so he ordered two, before turning to follow her across the bar. She headed towards a booth opposite and as she arrived, the group of girls sitting there abruptly gave up their seats.


    She accepted the drink gratefully, before leaning towards him seductively. Her maneuver gave him an unobstructed view of her ample cleavage. ¡°So, Colin.¡± She purred. ¡°Tell me about yourself. I don¡¯t think I¡¯ve seen you around before.¡±


    He took a sip of his drink. He was trying not to stare. She was a wild one, this girl. Better tread lightly.


    ¡°Ah, well. It is my first time here. I heard about it from my sister.¡±


    ¡°Well your sister certainly has good taste.¡± She was gazing at him with eyes almost as dark as his own. She reached out to brush a curl off his forehead.


    His hair was always a bit on the wild side. He had a head full of loose brown curls that were almost always sun-bleached to a coppery gold on top.


    As she brought her hand down, she dropped it easily to his own which had been resting by his drink on the table. She had this flirting thing down to an art.


    He squeezed her hand gently as he held it in his. Her hand was milky-white in comparison to his brown one.


    ¡°Would you like to dance?¡± He asked. It would be nice to hold her in his arms.


    ¡°Sounds like a plan,¡± she said rising from her seat. As she did, she kept hold of his hand as she led him towards the back of the bar.


    Down in the depths of the Pitt, hot bodies mingled on the dance floor. He was introduced to the pair of girls he¡¯d seen before. Teresa, a beautiful black lady with the body of a ballerina was dancing with a spunky blond named Jess. They were surrounded by a trio of young men who were vying for their attention. Molly introduced them to him as ¡°her girls¡± and the three exchanged quick kisses upon meeting.


    Colin was happy to have Molly all to himself. They danced bodies touching, no matter the tempo of the song. Twisting, turning in and out of one another¡¯s arms, Molly turned; dancing backwards against him, arms raised high in the air, as she glanced over her shoulder at him seductively. She was the centre of attention, and he was happy to let her be.


    When Teresa and Jess eventually departed the dancefloor with their trio in tow, Molly followed, but not before grasping Colin firmly by the hand and pulling him along with her.


    Upstairs, he followed the group across the busy bar, back towards the table they had earlier shared. Six, believe it or not, was a comfortable fit at the U-shaped booths that ran along the wall of the Pitt. Seven however, had their sweaty and hot bodies sitting slightly closer than what was comfortable. They had slid into the booth in a he-she sort of pattern with both Teresa and Jess sitting between a pair of the men. That left Colin sitting on the outside beside one of the sweaty hot gentlemen. Molly soon excused herself to flag down a waitress and order a round of drinks for the group.


    Shortly a waitress appeared with a tray full of beer which were quickly dispersed around the table. Molly, however, did not immediately follow. When she finally did arrive, the joyous expression she had worn for most of the night had been replaced by a sullen one. Rather than take a seat at the booth, she leaned down to speak with him instead.


    ¡°Do you want to get out of here?¡± she asked briskly, her dark eyes searching his face.


    He nodded as he stood. ¡°Just let me take care of my tab.¡±


    Molly nodded, leaning in close. ¡°In that case, I¡¯ll powder my nose.¡± She said giving him a quick kiss on the cheek, before heading towards the facilities.


    Colin crossed the bar as quickly as he could and getting the attention of the barkeep, paid his tab. He was searching for Molly¡¯s whereabouts, when a strong arm suddenly clasped around his shoulders. He looked up into a set of piercing green eyes that were assessing him carefully. He recognized the man immediately; was aware of his reputation, although up until now their paths had thankfully never crossed. Damon Sinclair. Colin swallowed unwillingly. Whatever could he want with me?


    ¡°If you don¡¯t mind my asking,¡± Damon said his voice grave. ¡°What are your intentions with my daughter?¡±


    ¡°Daughter?¡± Colin managed, his voice a croak from a throat that was suddenly dry.


    Damon looked at him curiously then. ¡°Molly,¡± he reminded him, eyes narrowing.


    Shit. Molly was his daughter? Then did that mean Molly was a¡ª


    ¡°Honourable, Sir.¡± He blurted, as Damon continued to scrutinize him carefully. ¡°Exceedingly, honourable.¡±


    Shit. Colin¡¯s heart was racing. Exceedingly honourable? Sir? Was he trying to get himself killed?


    ¡°See that they are,¡± Damon said, releasing him.


    Outside, the air was crisp and cool. October was making herself known. Leaves in shades of red and gold blew along the city streets as Molly and Colin walked, arms entwined. The moon hung high in the cloudless sky above; a waxing crescent of light set amongst a background of shimmering stars.


    Molly peeved as she was, noticed nothing of the beauty and stillness of the night. Damon had confronted her in a way that was as demeaning as it was embarrassing. How dare he speak to her in that manner? She was not a child. No longer did she belong to him. That phase of her life was well over. He had made that plainly clear. And she had moved on. Well¡­ mostly moved on.


    ¡°Cool night,¡± Colin remarked. His voice interrupting her thoughts.


    ¡°Yes. I suppose it is.¡± Molly glanced up at the handsome man beside her. He was only a few inches taller than she, with a lean build. He had a head full of unruly, brown curls, which the wind played at blowing about. His eyes were so dark that they were almost black, as he gazed at her with the hint of a smile upon his lips. He had several piercings in both of his ears, one in his right eyebrow and a labret piercing as well. With that many visible piercings, it made Molly wonder if he may have had more elsewhere.


    ¡°Here. Take my jacket.¡± He said, offering her a tailored coat in soft brown leather, that she hadn¡¯t noticed he¡¯d been wearing.


    ¡°Thanks,¡± she said, graciously accepting the garment as he slipped it over her shoulders, even though the cold hadn¡¯t really bothered her. Colin was sweet and compassionate, and Molly wasn¡¯t accustomed to men being considerate of her needs. It threw her off-balance, the unusualness of it all, and she found her anger fleeting as she looked into his eyes.


    ¡°Feeling better, perhaps?¡±


    Molly smiled, realizing that she did.


    They turned down the next street they encountered. Old homes with tailored lots lined the block, and up ahead, at the end of the street was a neighbourhood park, where there was a jungle-gym and a swing-set.


    Taking him by the hand, Molly led him quickly down the street towards the playground. They climbed the small incline to the park above, the fallen leaves making the ground greasy beneath their feet. She lost her balance once, her high heels slipping on the damp grass and as she did, Colin¡¯s arms encircled her waist as he steadied her. They made their way to the swings, and as each took one, they sat facing one another.


    For the first time, she noticed the heavens and the breathtaking view of the starry night sky. It wasn¡¯t often that the air was clear enough to display such beauty amongst the city¡¯s lights.


    ¡°It¡¯s beautiful.¡± Molly said, her chin lifted, extending her long graceful neck.


    ¡°Certainly is,¡± Colin said.


    There was something in the tone of his voice that caused Molly to glance his way, and in that second, she realized all at once that he¡¯d not been looking at the sky; but at her, when he leaned in to kiss her.


    That was when her fairy-tale ended.


    There was a sound; like the lowest and cruelest bass note ever played. It encompassed them wholly, filling the air with its foulness, piercing their skulls and causing their teeth to ache. Molly screamed, as she covered her ears. A futile act, as the sound seemed to have taken up root within her own head. Colin too, covered his ears as he got to his feet, staggering, only to fall to his knees in the sand a few short feet away. When he looked up, she could see that his eyes and nose were bleeding.


    There was a flash, a sizzle of light and a crack that was not unlike thunder as the debilitating note finally ceased and a swirling circle of nothingness appeared in front of them. From that nothingness a hulking figure stepped.


    *


    Damon was sitting at the end of the bar. On nights when it was much quieter than tonight, he would often pass the time by keeping Ryan company. There was a card game ongoing; an amusement that he generally looked forward to, but this evening Damon¡¯s mood was sour. His earlier phone call from Ryan and his recent confrontation with Molly had left him so.


    Intent on drinking himself to a better mood, he was now on this third or forth double of scotch. Truthfully, he couldn¡¯t remember exactly how many he had had, but it was enough that Ryan had finally disenthralled himself from him, by bringing him his own bottle.


    Finishing what was in his glass, he poured himself another. It was then, as he raised his glass to his lips, that Molly¡¯s shriek hit him. It was as if he had suddenly been drenched in ice-water. His hand squeezed and the glass within it, shattered, spilling its contents upon the bar. The next second he was on his feet and moving fast as he pushed his way through the crowd.


    *


    Nick was sitting at the bar, when Nathan on the stool next to him, jerked so hard that he fell from his seat. He looked down at his brother questioningly and was about to make a smart-assed remark, when the expression of dread on Nathan¡¯s ash-white face, caused his words to fail him.


    That was when Nate jumped to his feet, grabbed hold of Nick¡¯s shirt collar and hauled him from his own stool. While being dragged through the crowd, they intersected with Damon, who too was heading towards the exit. Nick witnessed a silent exchange between the two, as they reached the doors in unison, flinging them violently open as they raced out into the night.


    Nick followed on their heels, easily keeping pace with them. At the next intersection, Damon and Nate came to a quick stop, glanced at one another as if deliberating, before abruptly rounding the corner as one, and racing down the center of a quiet tree-lined street. At the foot of the lane was a park, and a silent figure that was fleeing towards them.


    They raced up the grassy incline to meet up with Molly, who was staggering. The strap of her dress was torn and one of her heels had broken and when Damon finally reached her, she fell willingly into his arms.


    ¡°Where is he?¡± Damon demanded, eyes quickly scanning the park as he steadied her. To Nick and Nate, he ordered, ¡°Find him!¡±


    ¡°Find who?¡± Nick asked, glancing around. It was apparent that the park was empty. He glanced at Nathan, who too was looking about wildly, and seemed to be as confused as he was.


    ¡°They took him,¡± Molly stammered. ¡°They took Colin.¡±


    She was clinging to Damon and visibly shaken. In all the years he had known her, Nick had never seen her in such a fragile state.


    She grabbed hold of Damon¡¯s shirtfront, eyes wild as she continued. ¡°I couldn¡¯t move. I couldn¡¯t speak. I was frozen¡ªI kept telling myself to help him, to do something, but my body¡­ it just wouldn¡¯t respond.¡±


    She began to weep as she relived the moment, silent tears slipping down her cheeks. ¡°Colin tried to fight them off¡­ the men that attacked us, but they surrounded him, and then that thing¡­ It took him by the neck, and it lifted him,¡± Molly said as she extended her own arm up high above her head, ¡°and he was choking and kicking, and he begged me to wish it away¡­¡±


    She stopped speaking as a shudder warped through her body, her arm dropped down limply to her chest, and she folded her arms, comforting herself.


    ¡°And Colin¡ªhe protected you?¡± Damon asked.


    Molly nodded as he held her close.


    Nick thought it odd to ask that of all things, as Molly¡¯s story had been strange indeed, and sure, he was still trying to wrap his mind around it all, but the least surprising factor for him, was that a strong able-bodied man had attempted to defend Molly.


    ¡°What did these men look like?¡± Nick asked gently. He had never seen Molly looking so frail.


    ¡°I couldn¡¯t see their faces. One was dressed in a hooded robe, and the other two were wearing dark hoodies.¡±


    ¡°Did they say anything? Demand anything? Do you have any idea, why they would attack you?¡±


    Molly looked thoughtful. ¡°After the noise¡­ my ears were ringing so loudly I could barely hear, but I think the man in the robe was commanding the thing, this¡­ giant stone creature. He ordered it to bring him the vessel.¡±


    Her explanation brought more questions to mind then answered them. What noise? A giant stone creature? And who were these men, and what was this vessel they were looking for?


    Damon however, had heard enough. He turned to Nathan. ¡°Take Molly home. Keep her safe.¡± He instructed. ¡°I¡¯ll follow shortly.¡±


    Nathan nodded without question, and as Molly walked unsteadily alongside him, her broken heel impeding her steps, he swept her up and into his arms, as he continued to carry her the rest of the way. All he had needed, Nick thought, was a white horse.


    Damon turned to Nick. ¡°Let¡¯s have a look around, shall we?¡±


    *


    Damon was growing impatient. A quick search of the area had revealed nothing of interest. There was the evidence of a struggle: deep scuff marks and lines in the sand where it looked like someone had been dragged, and a spot perhaps, where Molly had broken her heel. It did little more than validate Molly¡¯s claims.


    ¡°I¡¯m going to head back,¡± Damon said as he proceeded towards the street. He stopped momentarily, looking over his shoulder as he called back to Nick. ¡°Are you coming?¡±


    Nick was standing, still a good distance off. ¡°In a minute. I think I¡¯ll take another look around; bring out my wolf, see perhaps if he can pick something up.¡±


    ¡°Well, good luck with that,¡± Damon snapped, before making his way down the small hill and out into the street. He realized he sounded short, but he¡¯d had about enough of his family being put in danger and he felt a desperate need to get back to Molly.


    He was already halfway up the block, when a small jean-clad figure stepped into the intersection ahead of him. It stopped in the middle of the street, turning to face him. Even at this distance, Damon recognized her immediately. It was none other than Allison Greer.

 TEN

    TEN


    Damon stopped short. It was Allie. The missing girl. She was standing in the street ahead of him, clear as day. They stood facing one another, a mere half block between them, when she turned abruptly and ran back the way she came.


    What the¡ª


    Damon immediately pursued with a short burst of speed easily twice that of a normal human. He closed the distance in a matter of seconds and rounded the corner¡ª


    The street was empty.


    Deserted. Except for a few parked vehicles: three cars and a white panel van, the type often used for deliveries; empty shells this time of night. A lone car made its way up the street at a faster than necessary pace, stirring up fallen leaves as it raced along.


    As it passed, Allie was once more in view. She was standing on the opposite side of the street, in the shadow of the delivery van and staring at him once more.


    ¡°Allie,¡± he called out to her.


    She turned on her heels and ran, slipping into the first dark alley she encountered.


    Bloody hell. Once more Damon pursued, passing the van and then reaching the mouth of the alley. It was darker here within the shadow of the buildings. Even still, it took only a moment to determine that, like the street before it, the alley too was deserted. There was a set of dumpsters and some accumulated garbage about half-way down it¡¯s length. Plastic trash bags, old delivery skids, and a stack of cardboard boxes were piled alongside the dumpsters, awaiting pick up.


    Damon looked to the fire escape above to see if perhaps she had somehow made her way up there, but it too was deserted. A pair of steel doors sat closed near the back of the alley, where it finally ended in a brick wall. A dead end.


    Damon headed carefully up the alley; the only exit was the metal doors at its end. Along the way he did a quick scan amongst the debris, when she once more appeared. She was dressed in blue-jeans, sneakers and a sweatshirt, her long hair hanging free, her face ghostly pale. For the briefest of moments, Damon thought that she had indeed passed over¡ªwas a specter of her former self, trapped between this world and the next. Then she hit him.


    ***


    At the park, Nick was getting ready to strip down. He had even gone so far as to pull his shirt up over his back, when a prickling feeling crept up his spine. He was being watched.


    He froze, letting his shirt fall back down over his midsection. Slowly, he turned. At the edge of the park, he thought he saw a figure hiding in the shadows of a large maple tree.


    A gentle breeze picked up, swirling the fallen leaves and rattling the chains on the swings behind him. It blew through the treetops, disturbing the more stubborn leaves that still clung to their branches, refusing to concede that summer was over. The swaying branches played tricks with the light, casting the figure in and out of shadow. One moment the figure was there, the next it was gone.


    Nick closed his eyes, inhaling deeply, yet there was no new scent on the wind. It was impossible. He should be able to smell him. Opening his eyes, he looked to the spot where the figure had been, when from the corner of his eye he caught movement from an entirely different direction. While his eyes had been momentarily closed, the figure had moved. It was now much closer, standing by the jungle gym, staring at him. How had it moved so quickly? And without a hint of sound?


    As he watched, the figure began walking towards him. When it had crossed half the distance, Nick realized his mistake.


    Turning quickly, he headed towards the street, head down, walking fast. When he hit the sidewalk, he glanced back over his shoulder to see if it had followed.


    It was now standing on the hill, staring after him.  Shit.


    ¡°Hey! Hey, you!¡± It called after him.


    Nick shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his jeans, as he started up the street, pretending not to hear. Perhaps if he ignored it for long enough it would give up its pursuit. He rounded the corner hoping to return to the Pitt, but the figure was now in front of him, standing directly in his path.


    ¡°Hey. You can see me, no? Hear me?¡±


    He was a young man, mid twenties at best with dark closely cropped hair.


    Refusing to make eye-contact, Nick took a quick breath and held it, as he pushed right through him. He felt a chill, cold as the first frost of fall; an immense longing for rolling green hills, where the air had never seen the evils of a combustion engine and Nick found himself strangely trying to remember his mother¡¯s face.


    Nick¡¯s pass-through seemed to stun him, or perhaps was just enough to confuse him as Nick was a full block away before he was approached again. Instead of speaking to him directly, he appeared to the side of his path, watching him closely as he approached, perhaps looking for an indication that Nick was aware of him.


    Nick couldn¡¯t return to the Pitt. It was too focused on him and he didn¡¯t want it following him home. So instead, at the next major intersection, he made a sharp right with an entirely different destination in mind.


    ***


    Damon took a step back in surprise. Allie had just clocked him one hard enough to turn his head, and she wasn¡¯t finished yet. She came at him, a whirlwind of fists and feet, moving with a speed and skill he would never have attributed her with.


    ¡°Allie, stop!¡± He reached for her swinging fists. He caught hold of her arm, only to have her twist and roll her torso, throwing him off balance and over her shoulder in the process. Landing on his ass, he looked up to see that she was grinning at him mischievously, beckoning him to get up. Damon paused a moment, to wipe a trickle of blood from the corner of his lip, before springing to his feet. He didn¡¯t know what had gotten into her¡ªwhy she was coming after him so¡ªbut if she wanted a fight, he supposed he would have to bring it. Perhaps it was the only way to get through to her.


    ¡°Listen Allie, I¡¯m not here to hurt you.¡± He said reaching for her again. She blocked his arm with her left one, striking him again, this time square in the face with her right. It knocked his head straight back, forcing Damon to blink tears and pause a moment to assess his injured nose. It seemed he had her answer.


    ¡°Fine. We¡¯ll do it your way!¡±


    He took a swing at her, only to have her once more vanish from view. At the same moment he was struck from behind. He turned only to have her disappear again, as a blow to the base of his skull almost brought him to his knees. Damon staggered forward, attempting to catch his balance when she appeared once more; grabbing his head by the hair, she slammed his head down against her raised knee.


    Damon stumbled to the ground, his back to the wall. When he next looked up, there was not one Allie standing and grinning at him, but two.


    ¡°Get up,¡± one of the Allie¡¯s demanded. ¡°C¡¯mon, on your feet, vermin.¡±


    Magic.


    He detested magic.


    He staggered to his feet; hands raised apprehensively in front of him.


    ¡°Now, Faith.¡± The second Allie cried out, as a third version appeared between them. This Allie was at least a half-head shorter than the first two and came wielding Latin.


    ¡°Corpus lig¨¢veris,¡± she exclaimed, her voice sounding nervous.


    Immediately Damon¡¯s back became ramrod straight as every muscle in his body went rigid. His arms seized violently to his sides. His legs snapped together in similar fashion. He was now frozen in place like a pillar, unable to move.


    ¡°Bloody H¡ª¡±


    ¡°Sigillo oris,¡±


    Damon felt his lips bind shut.


    She stepped closer to him then, and as he watched, she raised a hand to wipe her features away.  ¡°Ostendo,¡± she whispered as her face blurred and changed; her nose shortening, lips thinning, eyes changing from brown to blue as Allie¡¯s long hair receded to her shoulders, turning from chestnut to blond in the process.


    Damon glared at the small blond. She seemed vaguely familiar.


    ¡°Where¡¯s Allie?¡± She hissed at him.


    Damon¡¯s mouth was sealed, so he rolled his eyes instead. Why did everyone think he had something to do with Allison¡¯s disappearance? At least he could now place the blond. She had been the one to drag Allie away that night at the Pitt.


    ¡°Nice work, Faith.¡± One of the girls praised her, as the other headed out to the street.


    Damon tested the binds placed on him. He attempted to move, but his body refused to obey. His muscles and tendons ached; seized up like a rusted tin man. His jaw was painfully tight, as if wired shut. His eyes it seemed, were the only part of him still able to move.


    At the mouth of the alley, a white van appeared. Allie number one soon climbed out from the driver¡¯s side and made her way to the back. She momentarily disappeared from his view as she opened the back door, only to reappear once more, wheeling a metal dolly along with her.


    ¡°A little help,¡± she called out. It made Allie number two run to her aid, while Faith remained by Damon to resume her glaring at him.


    He would have told her that she had it all wrong, had she been in a talking sort of mood. Instead, he sighed disapprovingly at her as he glared back.


    One Allie brought the dolly, the other a heavy canvas bag, the type you¡¯d find at an army surplus store. From the bag they produced zip ties and duct tape, and with a bit of both, proceeded to secure him to the metal cart. When they finished, they stood back to admire their work.


    ¡°That went better than expected,¡± one of the Allie¡¯s said. She sounded relieved.


    ¡°It was a sound plan.¡± Said the other Allie, matter-of-factly.


    ¡°Now what?¡± Faith asked.


    ¡°Now it¡¯s lights out for him.¡± Allie number one reached back into the bag to come out with what looked like an old grain sack. She drew it quickly down over his head.


    Damon sneezed. It was dank and musty and smelled of mouldy potatoes. Not only did it serve to blind him, it also did a fine job of eliminating his remaining senses. He could now smell nothing more than the overwhelming interior of the bag and it had reduced his hearing to nothing more than muffled sounds.


    He felt himself being tipped back; a helpless feeling of falling and being unable to catch oneself, before he was moved bumpily and unevenly towards what he assumed was the direction of the van. There was a slight pause, before he was hoisted clumsily into the back of the vehicle. Shortly, he heard the doors slam shut. More doors opened and closed and there was a moment of muffled voices, before the engine started and the van pulled away.


    Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    ***


    If the Pitt was considered home, then McGuire¡¯s was his home away from home. For Nick at least, it came in at a close second. The little pub always brought a smile to his face, with its slightly older crowd, relaxed atmosphere and nice assortment of ales on tap. The food was better than good, and the music was often live; as it sported a small stage at one end of the room where local bands would play, and a karaoke night every Wednesday.


    It was also not uncommon to find a fellow wolf there. Penn herself often dropped by for a drink and had even been known to bring clients. If the establishment had been more welcoming of the other members of his family, he would have undoubtably spent much more of his time here. As it was, McGuire¡¯s pub was one of the few places where his tab wasn¡¯t set up under Damon¡¯s name.


    Tonight, the place was hopping, with a live band playing and a crowd of people enthusiastically dancing along. Nick crossed to the bar, taking a stool near the corner where he could sit and take in the festivities. He ordered a pint of something called Smuggler¡¯s Moon, a locally crafted beer from a small brewery in the distillery district and took a sip. It was a pale ale, tasted not bad; it was light with a slightly citrussy finish. It was perhaps not his usual cup of tea as he preferred beer that tasted more like beer and less like fruit, but it gave him something to work at as he scanned the crowd for his stalker friend.


    If he had thought the noise and crowd of people would have dissuaded his pursuer, he was certainly mistaken. He spotted him easily enough as he surveyed the room; a lone figure standing still amongst a sea of dancing ones. As before, he was staring directly at Nick.


    Nick continued his slow survey of the room, taking another sip of his drink as he did. At least with the crowd he could now keep an eye on his follower without watching him directly. It would be enough to have him within his peripheral vision, he thought.


    At the end of the bar, only a couple of seats down from him, an Irish looking lass with a pale complexion and strawberry-blonde hair, had taken note of him, smiling shyly when he glanced her way. Nick couldn¡¯t help but to return the smile. He had always been a sucker for a redhead. As a new song began, she turned to speak to the woman beside her, cupping her hand between mouth and ear as she leaned in. The next moment they were headed to the dance floor, and as Nick followed their movements across the bar, it brought him back to his stalker friend.


    As Nick watched, he turned and began working his way amongst the crowd, back and forth, forever glancing at Nick as he did. He appeared to be searching for something as he turned once more to face Nick, before purposely stepping into the body of the young man who¡¯d been dancing ahead of him. The man started; a reflex action as his arms jolted into the air. To anyone around him, it appeared as just another dance step, with only Nick being the wiser. As if to make the situation even more apparent, the man in question stopped dancing and immediately turned towards Nick with a bitter expression upon his face.


    Shit.


    ¡°Strange. I must be seeing things.¡±


    Nick glanced over his shoulder to see a large bear of a man sitting on the stool next to him. He had a thick mane of wavy black hair and a dense unruly beard, both of which were streaked white with the beginning signs of age. He was gazing out across the dancefloor with a look of puzzlement in his bright blue eyes. His gaze soon shifted to Nick.


    ¡°Names, Wallace. Graem Wallace. But you friend, can call me Wally.¡± He said to Nick as he extended a large hand.


    Nick turned in his seat and offered his own name as he took up the man¡¯s hand. It was warm and welcoming, and there was a feeling of familiarity as he grasped it.


    Back towards the stage, his ghostly friend had decided to take the man for a quick spin across the dancefloor, flailing his arms and jumping around haphazardly as he did. He soon grew tired of the antics, stepping out of this body and into the next, and proceeded as such; hopping from victim to hapless victim, while knocking deliberately into people and causing quite the commotion.


    He finally ended his tour of the dancefloor, by hijacking the body of a rather large individual; a burly bald man with a goat-like goatee and several tattoos running the length of each of his well-muscled arms. The man was sitting at a table with some friends near the edge of the dancefloor, when the ghostly figure had flopped down into him as if he had decided to sit in his lap.


    Nick watched as the burly man picked up his heavy glass pint and drained it, before slamming it enthusiastically back upon the table.


    At that moment Nick¡¯s view became obstructed by the pretty red-haired lass, who having found the courage to approach him, had sauntered up, cheeks flushed, a healthy glow of sweat radiating off her skin.


    ¡°Care to dance?¡± She asked with a smile.


    Nick grinned unabashedly and opened his mouth to reply, when a heavy hand dropped down on his shoulder.


    ¡°Hey, you,¡± the owner of the hand said.


    As Nick looked up, he felt his nose break.


    Nick¡¯s head snapped back, and while he hadn¡¯t seen it coming, he did take stock of a whole mess of other things which all seemed to happen at once. The cute strawberry-blond had gasped as he¡¯d been hit, her face contorted in fright as she stumbled backwards away from the onslaught. The burly man, relentless in his pursuit of Nick, had wound up for another swing, only to have Graem Wallace stand up and deflect the blow by catching it within his own enormous fist. The three gentlemen who had been sitting at the table with the burly man, jumped up as well, coming to the aid of their friend, who had obviously taken offence to something. They came forward, fists at the ready, as a pair of bouncers came running towards them from behind. All of this, Nick witnessed; in the time it took to bring a hand up to his injured face. His fingers came back, covered in blood.


    Aw, hell.


    ¡°Trouble follows you around like a shadow, don¡¯t it pup?¡± Wallace stated flatly, as he pushed past him, a fist from the burly man now resting in each of his palms.


    Nick dodged another fist hellbent on his face, before finding his feet and quickly countering with a swing of his own. ¡°Go easy on him,¡± he said to Wallace as he pulled his own punch, delivering instead a glancing blow. ¡°He isn¡¯t exactly in his right mind.¡±


    ¡°Oh?¡± Graem seemed amused. ¡°Friend of yours?¡±


    ¡°Not entirely.¡±


    Nick was grabbed up by the shirtfront and swung violently around until he and Graem were now opposite one another. He knocked the hands free of him, before ducking another blow.


    ¡°Watch your back,¡± Graem warned, as Nick turned in time to dodge another of the burly man¡¯s friends.


    ¡°Chair,¡± Nick called out, and they both ducked as a chair that¡¯d been pitched directly at them, crashed down against the bar, shattering as it hit.


    They found themselves face to face when a strange familiarity once more flooded over Nick. It was like he could sense this man¡¯s intent even before he made his move.


    ¡°It was you that night in the woods, wasn¡¯t it?¡± Nick asked.


    Graem Wallace smiled.


    ¡°Time to finish this,¡± he said, and as they stood, they immediately crossed paths to deflect the blow of an oncoming assailant intent on reaching the other. They swung in unison, knuckles connecting with chins, and in the next second, both the on-comers dropped.


    When the bouncer grabbed hold of him, Nick didn¡¯t resist. Instead, he threw his hands up as he allowed himself to be escorted out of the bar. He passed the burly man, who was now sitting on the floor; his hands and face a bloody mess, a dazed and bewildered expression upon his face. Standing behind him, was the specter. As he was ushered into the crisp night air, Nick wondered whether his final swing had landed on the specters face as well; or if he had bowed out just in time to circumvent the oncoming blow.


    Outside, the bouncers continued to separate them, as Nick and Graem were sent off in one direction; their combatants in another.


    Turning on his feet, Nick called out to the bouncer, walking backwards as he continued up the street. ¡°Hey. Put the damages on my tab.¡± He felt responsible and it was important to him that the owners were reimbursed.


    Halfway down the block, Graem roughly took hold of Nick and backed him up against the brick of a nearby building. He grasped Nick by the nose. ¡°Chin up.¡±


    There was a painful crunch; a nasty grinding of bone against bone and a sudden taste of fresh blood, as Graem set his broken nose in place. Nick grunted and felt his eyes water once more.


    ¡°Is it following us?¡± Graem whispered.


    From over Graem¡¯s shoulder he could see the specter watching them closely. He brought his hand up deceptively to his face, masking his lips as he wiped the blood away. ¡°You bet.¡±


    Graem¡¯s massive hands clasped him enthusiastically by the shoulders. ¡°You should come to Sidewinder¡¯s with me,¡± he said loudly. ¡°We¡¯ll have a drink and watch the pretty lasses as they dance for us.¡±


    Nick didn¡¯t know what to say. Sidewinder¡¯s was perhaps the sleeziest joint in town. Damon would have certainly frowned upon it, and so Nick had never been. Instead, he knew of it by way of its seedy reputation. It was a strip-club that offered rooms for rent amongst its upper floors.


    Not waiting for his response, Graem continued. ¡°Have you never been? It¡¯s not far from here, really. A brisk walk at best. It¡¯s on the other side of the tracks¡­¡±


    Nick suddenly understood. ¡°Sounds like a plan.¡±


    They walked at a clipped pace; easily falling in step with one another, and Nick was once more reminded of that feeling of simpatico, a strange oneness that they seemed to share. The man didn¡¯t know him from Adam, yet twice now he had come to his defence. He could follow this wolf, he thought.


    ***


    Every October, Kingsford hosted a pub-crawl. It was a bona fide tourist attraction, that drew in visitors from all over the country. Guides would lead supervised tours through Kingsford¡¯s oldest parts; the core particularly, while sharing with its customers Kingsford¡¯s more unsavory history, as they hopped from bar to pub along the way. It was especially popular in the days leading up to Halloween, where the veil between the living and the dead was said to be at it¡¯s thinnest. Kingsford was known for being one of the most haunted cities in the nation; and as the night grew late and the customers more inebriated, ghosts both real and imagined were often spotted.


    For good reason, Sidewinder¡¯s was not included on any of these tours.


    Nick sat at a rather inexpensive, square-shaped table, unsure of where to place his hands. The table¡¯s red-topped surface was unwashed, covered in a series of dirty glass-rings, discarded peanut shells and a sticky film which he hoped originated from spilt beer.


    Graem appeared forthwith, two large pints of ale in his hands that he placed upon the table between them before dropping down heavily into the chair opposite him.


    There was a stage on the far side of the room where skinny, barely legal girls danced bare breasted in their thongs, some crawling seductively like cats across the stage, while others danced their routines with poles. The customers were almost entirely men, and the waitresses were scantily clad dancers, who worked the tables between performances. Most of the customers were gathered at the small tables directly in front of the stage, as they stared at the girls while guzzling cheap beer. Across the room the occasional lap-dance occurred, for the man willing to shell out the extra coin.


    While it wasn¡¯t the first time that Nick had visited a strip club, it was the first time that he considered getting a tetanus shot upon leaving. Graem Wallace, however, didn¡¯t seem to mind the unsavory atmosphere, had perhaps seen worse, as he slid a glass tankard of ale across the table towards Nick.


    ¡°Thanks.¡±  Nick said, taking a sip. It was cheap beer, but at least it tasted like beer.


    Graem was watching him closely as he settled back comfortably into his chair, throwing his heavy boots up onto the empty chair beside him. He took a hearty draught from his own pint before speaking. ¡°Tell me about that shit-show in the woods,¡± he said finally. ¡°Those cubs turn on you, or what?¡±


    Nick sighed, dropping his eyes as he debated. He hadn¡¯t discussed that part of the night¡¯s events with Damon yet, still felt the sting of embarrassment; of failure. But this man, Graem had witnessed it and as Nick looked up into his gentle blue-eyes, he saw no judgement there.


    Nick recounted the story as best he could, while they sat drinking beer. How he had discovered the hapless boys, leading up to their eventual betrayal and coup.


    ¡°So, this leth-fhuil, what are you planning to do about him?¡±


    Nick knew the term, it meant half-blood, and in this instance Graem wasn¡¯t using it in a positive light. ¡°What can I do?¡± Nick shrugged. His glass was now empty. ¡°And for that matter, why would I even want to do anything about it?¡±


    Graem was frowning at him. ¡°You already know what needs to be done, little prince. I can see it in your eyes. But if you need to hear the words, I¡¯ll spell it out for you.¡± Graem dropped his feet to the ground, as he leaned towards him. ¡°Take back your pack. Do you honestly believe those cubs are better off with him? That leth-fhuil isn¡¯t fit to lead. He knows nothing of our ways. There¡¯s no honor in what he did. If he had wanted to contest your guardianship, he should have done so deservedly. Instead he chose the route of a coward.¡±


    Graem stood, towering over him. ¡°There is one more thing to consider, whether you plan on doing anything about that half-blood or not. The next full moon falls on Samhain, and like it or not, those boys had better be in check, or there¡¯ll be trouble for all of us.¡±


    He turned and departed towards the back of the bar.


    Nick was silent. Graem hadn¡¯t said anything that Nick hadn¡¯t already considered; hadn¡¯t let tumble about in his own brain insistently over the last few days. He supposed it was the shame of it all that held him hostage. The failure of having run home to Damon with his tail between his legs and having everyone know it. He could play at shrugging it off for as long as he needed and perhaps even some would believe him. But he would know the truth.


    Graem returned this time with a pitcher of beer, and Nick was thankful for the interruption in thought as he poured them drinks. He took his mug happily, taking a long draught of the refreshing ale.


    ¡°There is one thing that I am still curious about,¡± Graem said as he sipped his own drink.


    ¡°Oh, and what¡¯s that?¡±


    ¡°Those cubs, the ones who attacked you. Were they f¨¬on-fhuil like you and I?¡±


    Nick shook his head. ¡°Nope. He claimed to have sired them.¡±


    Graem seemed deep in thought. ¡°I assumed as much. They were awful puny for pure bloods. What I don¡¯t understand¡­ is how did they turn without the help of the moon?¡±


    Nick shrugged. ¡°I was actually hoping you might know about that. They took a potion. It looked rather painful¡ª


    ¡°This potion. Milky white and glowing like the moon?¡±


    Nick nodded. ¡°You know it?¡±


    ¡°I knew of it. It¡¯s made from the moon-drop flower.¡±


    Nick frowned. ¡°I¡¯ve never heard of it.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s because the plant doesn¡¯t exist anymore. At least not in this world. The blood-drinkers made sure of that. There was a time when the tiny flower covered the fields of the old world, lighting up the night. It was the Fae who first made us the potion. It enabled the half-bloods to change no matter the phase of the moon. But when the vampires discovered our weakness; that not all our numbers could change at will, they torched the fields, forever destroying the flowers.¡±


    ¡°Then how did this man have it?¡± Nick asked.


    ¡°Now that, is an excellent question,¡± Graem said.


    Nick soon finished his beer and decided to call it a night. Outside, the cool air felt good against his skin. It made him feel alert as he made his way along the street. He had to take an alternate route home; he couldn¡¯t chance, however unlikely, that his specter friend might still be waiting for him.


    They had lost him on the way to the strip club, as soon as they¡¯d crossed the tracks. The steel rails had forced his hand. Ghosts were sensitive to iron in the same way that he was to silver, and because of this, the specter simply could not follow. Instead, he had stood in the middle of the street as he watched them depart, until they too were no more than shadows in the dark.

 ELEVEN

    ELEVEN


    Molly slipped her key into the lock before quietly sneaking into the darkened apartment. She closed the door behind her being careful not to make any noise. It was still early, and she didn¡¯t want to wake Damon; at least not until she had slipped into bed with him. She couldn¡¯t help but smile as she considered the upcoming encounter. Sex with Damon was always fun, but somehow it was even better when she was the one initiating it. There was something titillating in having him sleepy and unaware as she aroused him to wakefulness.


    She had an ulterior motive too, for the early morning rendezvous. Molly had prearranged a spa getaway for her and the girls, but she had burned through her allowance a bit early this month. Damon would be unlikely to deny her an advance, especially if she sweetened the deal beforehand. Like most men, she found that Damon could be easily manipulated by her feminine wiles.


    She slipped her heels off at the door and dropped her purse on the kitchen counter before making her way to his bedroom. The door was slightly ajar, which made it easy for her to slip soundlessly inside.


    A moment later she came busting out of the room; door banging noisily, face scarlet, as her ears burned hotly. She was halfway across the kitchen when an angry voice shouted after her.


    ¡°Hey! What the hell was that?¡±


    She wheeled to see Nick standing in the bedroom doorway wearing nothing but boxer shorts and an angry expression. Molly quickly considered her options before bolting for the front door. She might have made it too, if she hadn¡¯t grabbed for her purse and shoes along the way: Gucci, there was no way she was leaving that behind. Instead, she had just managed to get the door partway open when Nick¡ªwho had dashed down and through the living room¡ªslammed his weight against it, forcing it closed again.


    She dropped her belongings as she immediately backed away from him, hands held up before her as if she were trying to halt traffic. ¡°I am so sorry.¡± Nervous laughter escaped her lips, making her apology useless. ¡°I thought you were Damon. Honestly.¡±


    Nick was glaring at her. It was clear that he found nothing amusing in her brief faux pas. ¡°I thought you and Damon broke-up.¡±


    Molly felt her cheeks grow hot, as they joined her burning ears. With her pale skin flushing, she doubted she could get any redder. As it was, she imagined she was already giving lobsters a run for the money. ¡°Well, we did¡­sorta.¡± It was far too embarrassing to admit that she had come over for a clandestine hook-up, and that such encounters were not as rare as Nick might think, so she countered instead. ¡°Anyway, why are you even here? I heard that you, had moved out.¡±


    This seemed to catch him off guard and he faltered for a moment. He frowned and dropped his eyes as the top of his cheeks flushed pink. ¡°I did¡­sorta.¡± The anger had drained from his voice.


    Molly stared at him. For some reason, the mutt was as embarrassed as she and it had nothing to do with their recent encounter. No. Something else was up with Nick. With this discovery, she thought perhaps that a ceasefire might be in order. She extended her hand to him.


    ¡°What¡¯s this?¡± He eyed her suspiciously.


    ¡°Pinky-swear; promise that we¡¯ll never speak of this again.¡± It was a time-honored tradition that few would ignore.


    Nick reached out and entwined his little finger with her own. ¡°Agreed.¡±


    She sighed with relief, glad that the event was behind them, but Nick was still staring at her darkly, his brow furrowed.


    ¡°What is it? What¡¯s wrong?¡±


    He passed her as he made his way to the kitchen counter, stopping to open the drawer closest to the door. He dug through it, coming out with a cell phone. He turned to face her as he turned it on.


    ¡°So, you weren¡¯t with Damon last night?¡±


    Molly smiled. She couldn¡¯t help herself. Thoughts of last night were part of the reason she was so aroused this morning. ¡°No. I was with Nathan.¡±


    ¡°Oh? And how was that?¡± Nick played with the phone for a bit before putting it to his ear.


    Molly was surprised at his tone. There was none of their usual banter there¡ªjust genuine interest. Was it possible the mutt and her were having an actual honest to goodness conversation?


    ¡°It was good. At least I think so¡­¡± She thought back to the evening¡¯s events. Nathan had escorted her back to her apartment; in fact, he had insisted on it, even riding the elevator up with her. When they got to her door, he had lingered awkwardly as she fumbled for her keys. Fumbled¡­ because she had wanted to stretch out every second of her time with him. He¡¯d surprised her when she¡¯d taken a chance on inviting him inside, and he had accepted.


    Nick was frowning as he set the phone down. ¡°No answer.¡±


    ¡°Do you think¡­¡± She faltered; eyes downcast. She sighed. Maybe it was better not to ask after all.


    ¡°What?¡± Nick¡¯s voice was gentle.


    When she glanced up, he was staring at her, dark eyes framed by lashes most girls would kill for. There was concern there, in those gorgeous eyes. It gave her the courage to continue.


    ¡°Do you think¡­ I mean, will there ever come a time when he doesn¡¯t hate me?¡±


    Nick¡¯s face broke out into a gentle smile. ¡°Nate doesn¡¯t hate you, Molly. Far from it.¡± He moved to a laptop that was closed on the island behind them, climbing up on a stool as he did.


    ¡°Yeah, right.¡±


    ¡°Seriously. You didn¡¯t see his face last night when you left with that guy.¡±


    ¡°Colin?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, Colin. Good looking guy like that, he watched the two of you all the way to the door. He almost fell off his stool trying to creep a look.¡±


    ¡°Really?¡±


    Nick was concentrating on the laptop now. The glow of the screen lighting up his face. ¡°I kid you not. In fact, the best thing you can do when it comes to Nathan is to ignore him.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡± Her stomach dropped at his words and a bitter taste filled her mouth. Of course, that was how it would be! Tell the crazy stalker chick to IGNORE his bestie. That would certainly show her¡ª ¡°I see.¡±


    Nick¡¯s back straightened and he turned to face her, closing the laptop as he did. Apparently, the bitterness in her mouth had slipped into her words as well, and he had heard it.


    Nick stared at her for a long moment, before pulling out the second stool at the counter beside his and indicating that she should sit. He waited for her to settle, and then took a deep breath.


    ¡°Okay. So, this is the situation as I see it, and remember, I have no skin in this game. Whether the two of you continue with your juvenile bickering, or make peace is entirely up to you¡­ But if you say a word of this to Nate¡ª¡±


    She held up her hands dismissively. ¡°Yeah. Okay, I get it.¡± She said quickly. Truthfully, she would have agreed to anything in that moment just to hear what Nick had to say.


    Nick paused, and for a moment she worried that he had changed his mind, until his shoulders dropped, and his hands fell to his lap in an almost defeated gesture.


    ¡°Nate isn¡¯t angry, Molly. He¡¯s just confused.¡±


    Molly opened her mouth to argue, but he stayed her off by raising a finger.


    ¡°Sure. In the beginning Nate was angry, red hot and rightfully so. But now¡­ I honestly don¡¯t think he knows what to feel. I think he still wants to be angry with you, especially when you mess with him. But after four years, that fires spent. He¡¯s finally accepted things. All that¡¯s left now is regret. Remember, he lost everything that day. His former life, his family; he had a mom and little sister who he adored.¡±


    ¡°Half-sister.¡± Molly corrected him. It felt like they were about to play the blame game and it made her rather uncomfortable.


    ¡°She wasn¡¯t half anything to him, Molly. Look, you need to accept that while he may have broken your heart¡ªhe¡¯s been hurting too. The two of you¡ªyou¡¯re both so wrapped up in your own pain that neither one of you can see anything beyond it. You gotta find a way to forgive him and you need to give him the chance to forgive you too.¡±


    Molly sat in stunned silence. It wasn¡¯t what she had been expecting, and she didn¡¯t know what to say. ¡°And how exactly do I do that?¡± Her hand had balled-up into a fist, and she felt tears biting behind her eyes. She didn¡¯t want to cry¡ªnot in front of the mutt.


    He shrugged absently, as if the answer was apparent. ¡°Remind him of who you really are; be the girl that he fell in love with.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t think I know how to do that.¡± The damn tears fell then, against her wishes.


    After Damon she thought she¡¯d never love again, but then she had found Nate and he¡¯d made her feel whole. Knowing that he was the one, deciding to spend her eternity with him and then having him reject her¡ªshe had spiraled, hard. She¡¯d fallen into a dark emotional pit, and it had been a long, slow climb out.


    She felt a hand on her shoulder and looked up.


    Nick was leaning forward, trying to meet her eyes. ¡°I didn¡¯t say it would be easy.¡± He reached out a hand to wipe a tear from her cheek.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡± Molly immediately straightened, wiping her face.


    ¡°Nah, don¡¯t be. You need to show off that heart of yours more often.¡± He smiled at her again before turning his attention back to the laptop.


    She was thankful for the space he allowed her and took the moment to settle herself and quash any additional tears. The pity party over, she became curious as to what he was so diligently up to and got up to peer over his shoulder, tucking a long strand of ebony hair behind her ear as she did. ¡°So, what are you doing?¡±


    Nick had opened the laptop and was now busy typing. ¡°I¡¯m tracing Damon¡¯s phone.¡±


    ¡°What? Whatever for?¡±


    ¡°Well, when I came home last night and he wasn¡¯t here, I just assumed he was taking care of you. But if you were with Nathan, then where is he? Do you remember seeing him at the Pitt? After the park, I mean?¡±


    ¡°No. Not really.¡±


    Truth be told she wasn¡¯t the most reliable witness in this regard. Sure, she had been badly shaken after her encounter in the park, but those feelings had diminished almost as soon as Nathan had swept her up into his arms. In fact, everything except thoughts of him had fled her mind. She had allowed Nate to carry her, leaning her head against him as he did. She could smell his aftershave, the clean scent of his shirt, the slight odour of beer that was still on his breath. If Damon had returned to the Pitt, he hadn¡¯t approached them before they had left.


    The idea that something had befallen him however, seemed slim, and she told him as much. ¡°You know, he probably just hooked up with someone and spent the night at their place.¡±


    ¡°Without checking that you were okay, first? That doesn¡¯t sound like any version of Damon that I know.¡±


    Oh-kay¡­ the mutt might have a point. Damon was overprotective to a fault. When they were dating, she found that protectiveness kinda hot. She liked how he fussed over her, how she was always the center of his attention. When they separated, that attention hadn¡¯t dispersed, it just¡­ shifted. She was still forever on his radar, just now, it was from a more respectable distance.


    ¡°And if it was a hook-up, like you suggest, he¡¯d be home by now. Damon is very careful about where he lets down his guard. Staying the night at a stranger¡¯s place would be completely out of character for him.¡±


    Deciding he might be right, she pushed her stool closer to his before climbing up until she was shoulder to shoulder with him, before leaning in for a better view. There was a globe on the webpage displayed. Molly watched as he selected a number from a drop-down on the side of the screen. One of the numbers was familiar to her.


    ¡°Hey. That¡¯s my number.¡±


    ¡°Uh-huh.¡± Nick was staring intently at the screen, where a little hourglass tipped itself over in a repetitive fashion.


    ¡°Why is my phone listed? Hey, have you been spying on me?¡±


    He slowly turned his head and give her a dirty look. ¡°You think I care what you¡¯ve been up to?¡± He pointed, his finger circling the screen. ¡°This¡­ is all Damon¡­ and it¡¯s not just you, he has all our cells there. Technically speaking, our phones belong to him, so there¡¯s not much we can do about it.¡±


    ¡°Geez. Such a control freak!¡±


    ¡°I know, right?¡± He had a playful grin on his face as he enthusiastically agreed. ¡°But in this case, its working to our advantage.¡±


    She watched as the globe began to spin, before it started to zoom in, going from continent to country to city as a small blinking dot finally appeared.


    As it did, the smile left Nick¡¯s face and he slammed the laptop closed. The next second he was on his feet and headed to the bedroom.


    This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.


    She followed but stopped short at the bedroom door. She thought that invading his privacy a second time this morning, would be pushing her luck. She turned her back to the opening instead. ¡°What¡¯s going on, Nick?¡±


    From the room behind, came heavy dragging sounds, like Nick was moving furniture. Seriously. What the hell was he up to?


    He soon emerged, wearing blue jeans and was in the process of throwing on a long-sleeved shirt as well. He headed back through the kitchen and snatched up the cellphone before stopping at a ceramic cookie jar on the end counter. Lifting the lid, he retrieved a handful of bills before shoving them deep into the pocket of his jeans.


    Molly peeked into the jar. It was full of money. She flipped it, dumping it out upon the counter. There were several stacks of bills in fifty and twenty-dollar denominations, most of which still had the bands from the bank on them. ¡°There must be¡­ eighty-grand here.¡±


    ¡°Yeah. It¡¯s Damon¡¯s flee-fund, in case we ever need to get out of dodge.¡±


    Molly began slowly returning the money to the jar. She glanced at Nick who was busy pulling on sneakers. ¡°You know,¡± she said casually. ¡°I¡¯m a little short this month.¡±


    ¡°Help yourself. That¡¯s what the cash cow¡¯s for.¡±


    Molly turned to look at Nick wide-eyed with shock. Sure, while Damon did take care of them financially, and it seemed like she was always fixing for a handout¡ªeven she would have drawn the line at calling him a cash cow. It was just plain rude, and she told Nick so.


    Nick looked at her, a confused frown upon his face. ¡°No.¡± he said pointing at the counter, while shaking his head. ¡°The cookie jar¡ªit¡¯s a cow.¡±


    Molly glanced back at the ceramic jar, returning the head to its body. Indeed, it was a cow; standing up on its hind legs, its front legs reaching down to pull up at its udders.


    ¡°Ah, cash-cow.¡± That immediately made more sense. That cleared up, she went back to focusing on the money. She bit her lip as she hesitated. She was debating between a stack of twenties and one of fifties, when she finally decided on taking both, before returning the rest to the jar and setting the cow¡¯s head back on its body. A sudden epiphany occurred to her. Damon had not once denied her an advance on her allowance¡ª ¡°Just out of curiosity, how long has Damon had this little reserve fund of his?¡±


    ¡°About as long as I¡¯ve known him. Why?¡±


    All this time, Molly thought that she had been the one playing him. She reached for her purse, and quickly dropped the cash inside. ¡°No reason.¡± She quickly changed the subject as she slipped on her heels. ¡°So, were you able to track his phone?¡±


    ¡°Yep.¡± Nick yanked the door open, holding it for her. He was now wearing a black leather jacket, a set of keys prominent in his hand. ¡°I¡¯m heading out to find him now.¡±


    *


    Molly had been sweet enough to drop him off at the parking garage a few blocks away. The man in the little security booth smiled as he approached. ¡°Should I bring her up for you?¡± He looked hopeful.


    Nick retuned the smile. He knew they offered a full valet service, which most customers relied upon. ¡°Nah. I¡¯ll get her myself.¡±


    The attendant nodded, and buzzed him in.


    Beyond the gate was a wide paved drive, behind which the parking garage sat. It was four levels above ground, and three beneath. Above the glass doors in front of the building was a car port of sorts to keep the clients who were entering the lobby out of the weather. Further along the building, were a series of garage doors large enough to accommodate all the different types of vehicles stored in the facility. On the street side of the building there were smaller exits which allowed clients to leave directly from the garage without having to pass through the front gate again.


    Nick entered the lobby, nodding to the pair of security officers at the front desk. They sat behind a series of monitors that coordinated with the many cameras throughout the building. To the right of the security desk was a bank of elevators.


    Nick pulled out his key card, and accessed the elevator, riding it down two levels, before entering the well-lit parking garage. His bike, a Ninja ZX-10R in classic black and green was happily waiting for him. He straddled her, threw on his helmet and rode up through the garage till he hit the ramp that led to the exit. As he approached, the metal door ahead raised in anticipation of him. Seconds later he was on the street and heading towards the freeway.


    *


    Nick sorta knew a girl, who knew a guy, who was very good with computers, in a hacking sort of way. The problem was, he didn¡¯t have her number, since she was more Damon¡¯s acquaintance than his. He did, however, have a rough idea of where he might find her.


    He stood outside of Downie Hall, staring up at the grey stone building. It was Saturday morning, and he was wondering how he would gain entrance to the dormitory, when a group of high-spirited girls came noisily out of the door. Nick smiled when they paused to glance at him, and they returned the gesture with giggles and friendly waves, as the girl in rear held the door open for him. Apparently, he could still pass as a college student. It was a bitter-sweet revelation. On one hand he supposed it was flattering to still be considered young and virile. But it had its disadvantages too, when those around him continued to regard him as inexperienced, impulsive, and even foolish.


    He thanked the student as he entered the dorm. Beyond the entrance was a modern receiving room complete with a gas fireplace, large flat screen television and boxy, if not ample, seating. He crossed the room, headed towards a free-floating stair that led to the upper floors. He stopped after the first flight and turned down a long hall.


    Up ahead, three guys were assembled outside one of the rooms. They appeared to be leaning over one another as they spied on the occupants inside through the partially cracked door. As Nick approached, two of them glanced up at him guiltily before fleeing up the hall and leaving their friend behind.


    The remaining student was squatting, his forehead pressed against the doorjamb, ear to the crack and still seemingly unaware that his friends had departed. Nick was considering his options, when the eavesdropper spoke.


    ¡°Shit. I still can¡¯t hear anything,¡±


    Nick smiled as he raised his foot. ¡°I think I can help you with that.¡±


    The next moment, the student was tumbling across the threshold and into the dorm room as the occupants inside jumped with a series of startled gasps and expletives.


    Van was immediately on her feet, her gaze moving between the student on the floor and Nick, who was now leaning arms crossed in the open doorway. ¡°What the hell, Ethan. You creep!¡±


    Van was dressed in her usual goth fashion, wearing a black baby doll dress and matching stockings which came just above her knees. Around her neck was a leather choker which looked a lot like a dog collar. On the opposite side of the room, two similarly dressed girls were sitting on the bed, looking wide-eyed and startled as they took in the scene.


    Ethan got clumsily to his feet, glaring at Nick as he did. ¡°Everyone¡¯s been talking, I just¡ª


    ¡°Get out!¡±


    ¡°But I just¡ª¡±


    ¡°I said out! Get the hell out of my room.¡± She pointed fiercely towards the door as Ethan finally took the hint.


    He paused at the doorway, stepping up face to face with Nick.


    The hair on the back of Nick¡¯s neck immediately prickled, as his wolf sense went on high alert. For a moment, Nick thought they were going to have words; and readied his fist as they sized one another up, before Ethan finally relented and slipping past him, continued down the hall.


    ¡°Imbecile.¡± Van turned toward Nick and the scowl left her face.


    ¡°Hey, Vanessa.¡± He flashed her a quick smile as his wolf relaxed once more.


    ¡°Hey, stranger. Come on in.¡± She reached out and took hold of his hand, pulling him inside as she closed the door behind him.


    Nick glanced around the room as Van took a seat on her bed. On the opposite bed, the two girls were staring at him in awkward silence.


    ¡°So, that was¡­ strange. Friend of yours?¡±


    Van nodded in agreement. ¡°Strange is one word for it. It¡¯s been a circus here all week.¡± She patted a spot on the bed beside her. ¡°And no, that loser was my roomie¡¯s ex-boyfriend, who apparently can¡¯t get a clue.¡± She smiled brightly at him. ¡°But at least now that they¡¯ve broken up, I don¡¯t have to pretend to like him anymore. Brightside to everything, I guess.¡±


    Nick glanced in the direction of the other girls as he took a seat. ¡°Roomie?¡±


    ¡°Oh no, sorry. These are my friends.¡± Van said as she made quick introductions.


    Nick smiled and nodded at them, but they continued to stare at him silently, looking rather shell-shocked as they did. He wondered what he had interrupted.


    ¡°So, what can I do you for you?¡±


    ¡°I need you to set up a meeting with your tech friend, Leland. Today, if possible.¡±


    Van¡¯s eyebrows raised in interest. ¡°Oh yeah? I think I can manage that. But you should¡¯ve sent a text. You didn¡¯t have to come all this way.¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t have your number.¡±


    ¡°But Damon¡ª¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s uh¡­ out of town at the moment.¡± Nick ran a nervous hand through his hair as he spoke. It wasn¡¯t entirely the truth, but there was no sense in worrying Vanessa.


    Nodding in understanding, she reached for her own cellphone which was on the desk. ¡°He works odd hours, but I¡¯m sure I can arrange something. Give me your number.¡±


    Nick did and stood, ready to leave. He felt bad for interrupting their visit. Vanessa¡¯s friends were still staring at him rather oddly. It made him wonder how much they knew about things, whether they were perhaps fearful of him. Vanessa and Damon had a special relationship and as such, she was aware of their true personas. As they were similarly dressed as Vanessa, it made Nick wonder if they too were into the same scene. If so, and they knew about Damon, then it was possible his name had been dropped as well.


    ¡°I¡¯ll text as soon as I know anything.¡± She walked him to the door.


    Nick leaned down and gave her a quick peck on the cheek. ¡°Thanks, beautiful. I owe you one.¡± He smiled at her as her cheeks flushed, despite her pale makeup.


    *


    The next order of business was a back-up plan. He knew it wasn¡¯t wise to place all his cards in the hands of Leland, no matter how good a hacker he was. And in any case, he couldn¡¯t just sit around waiting for Vanessa to contact him.


    He pulled his bike into an empty space outside the magic shop. A little bell happily announced his arrival. The small shop was warm and inviting. Polished furniture held a variety of wares, and the air hung heavily with the scent of spice and incense. At least a half dozen people were quietly browsing. There was a counter to the left, behind which a middle-aged man waited on a pair of similarly aged women. While he waited for him to finish, Nick browsed among the display tables that were scattered among the front of the store. As the little bell announced the ladies¡¯ departure, Nick approached the counter and waited politely for the shopkeeper to acknowledge him. He was dressed in tailored slacks and a dress shirt, the kind with a button-down collar. He reminded Nick of a librarian as he completed his paperwork, peering over a pair of thin wire spectacles as he did. Finally, the shop-keep looked up.


    ¡°How can I be of assistance, gentlemen?¡±


    ¡°I need a tracking potion,¡± Nick said and realized that as he spoke, a second voice had mirrored his own. He turned to see a man standing at his shoulder. He was at least six-foot-tall, physically fit, and of indigenous descent. He had short, black, neatly styled hair, dark eyes and tanned skin. He was dressed casually in khakis and a plaid shirt. He too was staring at Nick as he looked him over, perhaps just as curious as he¡¯d been by their similar request.


    ¡°I was here first,¡± the man said matter-of-factly as he sized Nick up dismissively, before stepping up to the counter.


    This caused his wolf¡¯s¡ªwho¡¯s ego was still rather bruised¡ªhackles to rise. ¡°By all means,¡± Nick heard himself say. ¡°Ladies first.¡± Damn. His wolf was aggressive today. It was going to get him in trouble.


    The clerk stood behind the counter staring at his customers with an amused expression on his face. ¡°Gentlemen, gentlemen. Tis no more difficult to create two potions than it is one.¡± He turned to the shelves behind him, scanning the rows of jars as he did. ¡°As long as I have ample ingredients, of course. Is this tracking potion for a living creature, a human or animal? You haven¡¯t lost your car keys, have you? Because that¡¯s something entirely different.¡±


    Nick glanced at the man beside him before answering. ¡°It¡¯s for a person.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, person.¡± The man nodded his agreement.


    The shopkeeper turned to face them. ¡°It¡¯ll take some time to brew. I¡¯ll have them ready later this afternoon. You¡¯ll both need to bring the final ingredient however, something personal belonging to the individual you want tracked. Something with DNA works best. You¡¯ll need a pointer as well¡­ something that will work as a compass.¡±


    ¡°Understood.¡± Nick nodded as he waited his turn to pay, deciding to let the other guy proceed first, whether his wolf liked it or not.


    ¡°How much?¡± He dug into the pocket of his jeans.


    ¡°Three-hundred and we are square.¡±


    Nick counted out some bills, handing them to the shopkeeper. ¡°So, the pointer, would something like a necklace work?¡±


    The shopkeeper nodded his approval. ¡°Absolutely, and if the necklace were to belong to the person you are tracking, even better.¡±


    Nick had thought as much, as he thanked the store clerk and headed to the door, the little bell ringing his departure.


    Outside, the man from before was lingering, inspecting his ride. He glanced up as Nick stepped outside.


    ¡°This your bike? She¡¯s a beaut. What year is she?¡±


    ¡°2016¡±


    The man whistled. ¡°Damn. She¡¯s in pristine condition. You ever take her on the track?¡±


    ¡°Yeah. A few times.¡± Nick was watching the guy with interest. At first sight he wouldn¡¯t have taken him for a gearhead. He looked more of the academic type with his preppy hair, chinos and button-down shirt.


    ¡°Sweet!¡± He was looking at Nick now with a big grin on his face, all previous signs of animosity having miraculously vanished. He held out his hand towards him. ¡°Sorry about earlier, it¡¯s been a rough couple of weeks. Names Jasper. Jasper Lightfoot.¡±


    Nick took the hand offered. ¡°Nick Dubrovski. Yeah. I understand what that¡¯s like. I¡¯ve had an interesting week myself.¡±


    ¡°So, I guess we have a few hours¡­ I don¡¯t suppose you can recommend a good place to grab an early lunch.¡±


    Nick nodded. ¡°Uh, yeah. I know a place. Do you like pub fare? I can give you the address if you wanna look it up on your phone.¡± Nick pulled out his own phone and opened the search engine.


    ¡°Unless you want to come with me? I hate eating alone.¡±


    Nick looked up to see Jasper staring at him eyebrows raised hopefully as he waited for his response. It wasn¡¯t often that Nick had company when dining out. Most of the people he knew were on a liquid diet. He hadn¡¯t eaten this morning and the invite was immediately appealing.


    ¡°Uh, sure. Do you wanna follow me?¡±


    ¡°Or we could take my jeep.¡± Jasper was already walking down the block where Nick could now see the gunmetal grey vehicle parked. ¡°I can drop you off after.¡±


    Nick glanced at the time on his phone. He supposed he had nothing better to do, and time to waste. He grabbed his helmet and followed Jasper down to his vehicle, an older model wrangler that had ¡®Willys¡¯ stencilled on the side of the hood.


    ¡°Nice ride.¡± For an older vehicle it was in a very good condition. It was something that he could see himself owning.


    ¡°Thanks. It belonged to my brother.¡± He climbed in, starting the ignition.


    Nick glanced in the back before climbing into the front passenger seat. The back seat was full of luggage, a large canvas duffle bag and a few hard-shell equipment cases. He set his helmet gingerly in the back among the rest of the gear, before buckling up. The next moment they were on their way.


    *


    ¡°So, what do you recommend?¡±


    They were sitting in a booth at the tavern. McGuire¡¯s had only recently opened for the day, but already a collection of regulars was seated along the bar and amongst the tables.


    Their waitress had already delivered menus, a double-sided laminated page featuring their specials. She had smiled welcomingly to them as she brought them their waters.


    ¡°The fish n¡¯ chips are excellent.¡± Nick replied as he browsed his own menu. ¡°The burgers are good, and you can¡¯t go wrong with the pot roast and mash.¡± He set the menu aside and watched Jasper as he scanned his own menu.


    When the waitress returned, they placed their food orders and Nick ordered a draft, Jasper an iced tea. When their drinks arrived, Nick sipped at his beer tentatively, and let his gaze drift to the window.


    Across the table Jasper played with taking the paper off his straw before dropping it into his glass and taking a sip. He nodded his head approvingly. ¡°Good iced tea. How¡¯s your beer?¡±


    Nick shrugged. ¡°Tastes like beer.¡±


    Jasper looked at him oddly.


    ¡°It¡¯s uh¡­ well, the last time I was here, I tried something new¡­ and it was, uh¡ª¡±


    ¡°Not something you¡¯d try again?¡± Jasper supplied hopefully.


    ¡°No, it was not.¡± Nick smiled then.


    Jasper was staring at him curiously. ¡°So, tracking spell huh? Not too many people who even know they exist.¡± He was smiling at him perhaps a bit too brightly. ¡°I mean, for most people magic is only found on a stage.¡±


    Nick pursed his lips and took a swig of his beer, wary of how he was being scrutinized. Inside his wolf was bristling, itching to jump from his skin, he just didn¡¯t know why. Nick shrugged in what he hoped was a nonchalant manner and dropped a smile of his own. ¡°I dated a girl in high school who was really into witchcraft.¡±


    Jasper seemed to consider his answer, as the waitress arrived with their meals.


    Nick was more than happy for the interruption and when the waitress departed, he quickly changed the subject. ¡°So, I take it, you¡¯re not from around here?¡± He asked before popping a french-fry into his mouth. The fries were hand-cut, with the skin left on and the edges were extra crispy.


    Jasper who had just taken a bite from his rather large burger, nodded his head in agreement. He swallowed momentarily. ¡°Right you are.¡±


    ¡°Then what brings you to Kingsford?¡±


    Jasper fixed him with a dead eye stare. ¡°Revenge.¡±


    The corner of Nicks mouth turned up in a smile as he examined Jasper¡¯s face. He¡¯d immediately thought he¡¯d been fooling with him, but the lingering look in his eyes said otherwise. ¡°You¡¯re serious, aren¡¯t you?¡±


    Jasper nodded and began shoveling French fries into his own mouth.


    Nick cut into his fish, taking a bite as he thought. This kid: he was more than likely going to end up getting himself killed. Kingsford wasn¡¯t exactly the place to be seeking revenge. There were a lot of unsavoury individuals who called Kingsford home and the vampires and wolven were only the tip of the iceberg.


    He fixed Jasper with a serious look. ¡°Is that what the potion¡¯s all about?¡± His talk about magic earlier¡­he¡¯d been fishing for information. Perhaps he too knew more about the underbelly of Kingsford than he wanted to admit and was trying to see where Nick stood.


    Jasper nodded again.


    Nick returned his attention to his dinner plate. ¡°For what it¡¯s worth, revenge; it¡¯s never what it seems. It rarely fixes anything and it¡¯s hardly ever as satisfying as one might think.¡±


    Jasper smirked at him then.


    Nick sighed internally. It was just as he suspected it would be. It was hard to be taken seriously, when he appeared to be no older than the person to whom he was giving the advice to.


    ¡°And what about you?¡± Jasper seemed blatantly cocky now. ¡°Your potion, who are you trying to find?¡±


    Nick had already thought out his story. Jasper had been entirely too curious earlier for him not to have come up with something. He shrugged. ¡°Nothing as spectacular as revenge, I¡¯m afraid. Bloke just owes me money, and I intend to collect.¡±

 TWELVE

    TWELVE


    Nick was roused by the sound of his alarm and rolled over in bed, searching for his cellphone within the blankets. Sleep the night before had been lacking, and he had decided that a couple hours¡¯ rest couldn¡¯t hurt, since he was likely to be up for most of the night. He found the phone wedged under Damon¡¯s pillow, and pulled it out, silencing the alarm.


    There was a message waiting for him. Van had sent him a text sometime when he had been napping.


    Meet tonight. 9 pm. After Dusk.


    Nick swore when he saw it. After Dusk. It truly was the worst place she could have asked him to meet. Seriously. Was she trying to get him killed?


    He rolled out of bed and headed to the bathroom. He just had time for a quick shower before he needed to head out.


    After Dusk, was a private club in an old Victorian mansion, located on the outskirts of town, which catered exclusively to vampires and the humans who endeavored to impersonate them. The vampire part of the equation was simple enough; the mansion provided a haven for them¡ªa bed and breakfast of sorts¡ªwhere they could sleep protected and get an adequate meal without the fear of raising suspicion. Vampires that were visiting Kingsford often made the estate their first stop.


    Now the humans that attended the club were of a different sort entirely, many having adopted what they considered to be a ¡°vampiric¡± lifestyle. Often the participants even tried to look the part, by dressing in Victorian attire (or how they romanticized vampires should appear). These humans could generally be categorized further into one of two groups.


    The bleeders often participated in voluntary bloodletting by either donating blood, or by allowing the vampires to drink openly from them, as many were often addicted to the euphoric high that they received by the act.


    The select few, who had been dubbed drinkers, took their understanding of the lifestyle to a different extreme by consuming the blood of the other participants, or by sampling what was readily available from the bar. They too, often received a high from the consumption when the blood they were ingesting was other than human.


    It was not, however, a venue that was welcoming if you happened to be wolven.


    As Nick approached the vicinity of the mansion, and her spacious estate, he pulled his bike to the side of the road. There was a wheat field bordering the property and he had spotted an overgrown laneway which he assumed was used solely for moving farm equipment into the field. Unmounting, he walked his bike across the narrow pathway to the fence line, and that¡¯s where he left it; along with his helmet and jacket, hidden in the deep shadow of the railing, to continue the rest of the way on foot.


    A tall black iron fence surrounded the estate. From here, Nick could see the enormous mansion with her steep gabled roofs, decorative windows, and towering turrets. It was a truly wonderful spectacle and as he¡¯d only heard stories from Damon, it was much larger and grander than he had ever imagined.


    It left him with a feeling of awe and fear, as he realized that behind those walls were perhaps more vampires than he had ever met in his entire lifetime. Vampires that were not kin to Damon, who would not honor a treaty forged nearly two hundred years ago, if a wolf happened to be stupid enough to cross their borders.


    He must be out of his mind. There was no other explanation for it. He should have sent Molly, but she and the girls had gone to some spa. He could have brought Nathan, but all things considered, Nate wasn¡¯t much of a vampire to begin with; and if push ever came to shove, he would defend Nick to the very end, no doubt losing his own life in the process. No. It had to be him; but for the simple fact that the others wouldn¡¯t understand what he was after. As it was, Vanessa was waiting for him, and it was deemed bad manners to keep a lady waiting.


    He pulled out his cell phone, dialing Van as he shrank down into the surrounding crop of winter wheat. The night was warm, and he could hear the insects chirring their nightly tune. They appeared to mock the ring from his phone, which seemed much too loud under the circumstances.


    Thankfully, Van answered almost immediately. ¡°Hello, Nick? Where are you?¡±


    Nick sighed. There was no backing out now. ¡°Hey, Van. I¡¯m out by the fence line. It¡¯s not like I can just walk through the front door, so¡­ how are we going to do this?¡± He hoped that he didn¡¯t sound as bitter as he felt. He was starting to feel edgy. His wolf was not entirely happy with the situation and for once he had to agree.


    ¡°Oh, crap! I didn¡¯t think about that. Sorry, Nick.¡±


    ¡°So where are you, exactly? Is Leland with you?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, he¡¯s here. He¡¯s been renting a room up on the third floor.¡± She broke off then to talk to someone whom he assumed was Leland, before coming back. ¡°Leland says that we can put a candle in the window. How¡¯s your parkour?¡±


    Great. Now all he had to do was climb the fence, approach the mansion without being seen, avoid any security cameras that might be along the building, and then scale to a third story window. Sure, no biggie. What could go wrong?


    Grasping the support bar of the fence, he climbed to the top, hand over hand, using the toes of his sneakers to help keep him from slipping. When he reached the top, he placed his hands between the spikes, before raising himself up on his stronger arm and balancing momentarily, before shifting his hips and swinging his legs over. When he had cleared the top of the fence, he pushed off and let gravity take care of the rest. He landed in a crouch, before glancing up at the mansion. He could now see a small flickering light in a window on the third floor.


    From his position, he could see the front of the mansion, with its grand circular drive. It was well lit there, and he could see the lights of several vehicles as they approached. Most of the security, he reasoned, would be there. Not that there would be too many stupid enough to try to infiltrate a structure which catered almost exclusively to vampires¡ªpresent company excluded, of course.


    Thankfully, lying between him and the building were several manicured hedges and flower gardens. He used these for cover as he made his way to the side of the building, until he reached the spot beneath the window where the candle was.


    Three windows over, the building jutted out, and in the corner a large drainpipe ran its way to the eaves at the top of the building. His best option would be to shimmy his way up the pipe, and then use the decorative framework surrounding the windows to make his way over. It even appeared that there might be a small ledge in the stonework below the windows, which would give him something to place his toes on. If nobody happened to notice him as he passed by the windows, he might be able to pull this off¡­


    Grasping hold of the drainpipe, he gave it a shake. It held strong and seemed sturdy enough. Along its length, the pipe was affixed to the wall by metal clamps, which gave him an impressive foot hold as he began to climb, hand over hand until he was adjacent to the first window on the third floor.


    From here, he could see that he had been right about the ledge. It was only wide enough to rest the ball of his foot upon but coupled with the window trim and the handholds offered by the ancient brick, it would be more than adequate.


    The drapes on the first window were closed as he sidestepped his way along. When he reached the second window however, he almost lost his balance as the occupant inside opened the window. Two sets of hands reached out and grabbed hold of him, as Van poked her head out and greeted him with a smile. ¡°Howdy stranger.¡±


    Together she and Leland helped haul Nick through the window, where the three of them tumbled to the floor below.


    ¡°Welcome.¡± Leland, a small man with peach fuzz for a beard and a pair of wire-rimmed glasses sat beaming at him excitedly. ¡°I hear you have some work for me.¡±


    Nick nodded as he rose from his spot on the floor. He pulled out his cell phone. ¡°I¡¯m hoping that you might be able to track a phone for me. I¡¯m interested in seeing which cell towers it pings, and whether it¡¯s possible to get a triangulation.¡±


    ¡°That sounds easy enough.¡± Leland moved to a desk on the other side of the room, taking a seat. It was overloaded with computer equipment, and it looked like Leland had been staying here for quite some time. ¡°We just have to discuss payment.¡±


    Nick nodded as he fished some bills out of his pocket. ¡°I brought plenty of cash.¡±


    Leland shook his head. ¡°Nah, I don¡¯t want your money.¡±


    Nick¡¯s eyebrows arched. ¡°Then, what do you want? A favor?¡± He couldn¡¯t imagine having anything else of value that would entice the hacker.


    ¡°No¡­ I do want a form of payment.¡± He was fidgeting as he glanced uncertainly at Nick, and otherwise looked extremely uncomfortable.


    ¡°Well, if you¡¯re contemplating sex Leland, then I call top.¡±


    Leland¡¯s eyes widened. ¡°Gawd, no. Nothing like that¡ª


    ¡°Oh, for Satan¡¯s sake, Leland, you¡¯re freaking the boy out!¡± She looked at Nick apologetically. ¡°He wants blood, Nick. Just a vial of your blood.¡± She glared at Leland then. ¡°Now was that so difficult?¡±


    ¡°You want¡­ a vial of my blood?¡±


    ¡°Uh, two vials, actually.¡± Leland corrected him, seeming brave now that the subject had been broached.


    ¡°Yeah. No, dude. I can¡¯t do that. Especially in a place like this. You don¡¯t know what would happen if a vampire got a hold of my blood.¡±


    ¡°Oh, no. That wouldn¡¯t happen¡­ it would be solely used by me.¡±


    ¡°Screw that, Leland.¡± Van looked annoyed. ¡°You promised me a taste.¡±


    Nick closed his eyes as he screwed up his face. He pinched the skin atop the bridge of his nose before kneading his forehead. He could feel a headache coming on. ¡°Okay. This shit is getting weird. Seriously Van? When did you become a drinker?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not, really. I¡¯ve only tried V the one time. I¡¯m just curious, ya know.¡±


    Nick shook his head. ¡°No. Not really.¡± He looked at Leland. ¡°There has to be some other payment you¡¯ll take. Are you sure the sex is off the table?¡±


    ¡°Dude.¡± Leland looked at him like he had just kicked his puppy.


    He felt his principles wavering. What choice did he have, really? He needed his help. ¡°You¡¯ll be careful? I mean, you promise it won¡¯t leave this room?¡±


    ¡°On my honor.¡± Leland was positively beaming. ¡°Now what¡¯s the number you need tracing?¡±


    Nick moved to stand by Leland at the computer. Instead of reading out the number, he simply brought it up on his phone. He didn¡¯t want Vanessa to know it was Damon¡¯s number he was tracking, for the same reason he hadn¡¯t told Molly that he was missing. There was no sense in worrying either girl.


    When he had attempted to trace Damon¡¯s phone earlier, the result had put Damon not only out of the city, but out of the country as well. He¡¯d immediately checked the floor safe in Damon¡¯s room, to find that all of Damon¡¯s passports were accounted for. He hoped that Leland could make some sense of the trace. He stood patiently while Leland worked his magic at the keyboard. He was navigating a map with a series of colourful markers; little flags, each of which had its own ring encircling it. ¡°Are those cell towers?¡±


    ¡°Yep.¡±


    ¡°So, what¡¯s the general distance between the towers?¡±


    ¡°Well, that depends. If you¡¯re in the city, they¡¯re usually grouped closer together to provide better cell service. Generally, they¡¯d be one or two miles apart, but they can be as close as a quarter to a half mile. Outside the city on flat terrain, there can be thirty or forty miles between them. It depends on a lot of factors really. Do me a favor and call that number.¡±


    Nick did as he was told.


    ¡°Huh.¡± Leland was staring at the screen. Nick could see the reflection of the monitor in the lenses of his glasses.


    ¡°What is it?¡± Val asked, sounding bored. She had flopped down upon Leland¡¯s bed as soon as they moved to the computer, unable to feign interest in what they were doing.


    ¡°Well, the signal¡­ it isn¡¯t acting normal.¡±


    ¡°How do you mean?¡± Nick asked.


    ¡°Cell towers work by passing the signal along to the next closet tower until it reaches its destination. And the signal does just that¡ªuntil it reaches this point,¡± Leland indicated a spot on the map, ¡°where it then jumps to a tower hundreds of miles away. It¡¯s literally impossible¡­ and yet the signal is behaving as if these two towers are adjacent. It makes no sense, whatsoever.¡±


    This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    ¡°Can you get me the location of that cell tower?¡± Nick asked, pointing to the first conspicuous tower Leland had indicated.


    ¡°Sure thing. But I¡¯m not sure how that helps you. Did you want me to try a triangulation? See if that clears things up?¡±


    Nick shook his head. ¡°Nope. I¡¯ve got what I came for.¡±


    Leland shrugged and reached out his hand. ¡°Give me your phone, and I¡¯ll program it into your GPS.¡±


    When Leland returned Nicks phone to him, Vanessa finally rose off the bed from where she¡¯d been lazily watching them.


    ¡°Ready to do this?¡± She looked at Nick expectantly, while Leland passed her a small cloth-bound kit. She set it on the bed beside her before unfolding it and revealing its contents: a set of hypodermic needles and some syringes.


    ¡°Wait. You¡¯re doing this?¡±


    ¡°Yep. Why the heck did you think I was waiting around?¡± She calmly attached a needle to one of the syringes, before readying a second. She nodded towards Leland. ¡°You didn¡¯t think I was going to let this clown poke you.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ve done this before?¡±


    She grinned at him. ¡°Of course. You know I¡¯m taking nursing at the college, right?¡±


    ¡°I did not know that.¡±


    ¡°Well, I promise that you are in good hands. I¡¯ve already passed my phlebotomy course and blood drawing is really quite easy, plus I get a ton of practice in this place.¡± She stared at him, while he hesitated. ¡°Don¡¯t tell me you¡¯re afraid of needles¡­ a big guy like you?¡±


    ¡°What? No, of course not. I¡¯m just wishing there was a way around this.¡±


    ¡°Nope sorry. So, uhm, why don¡¯t you slip off your shirt and we¡¯ll get this over with.¡±


    ¡°My shirt?¡±


    ¡°Unless you think you can roll those sleeves up past your elbows.¡±


    ¡°Okay. Good point.¡± Nick pulled his shirt off before taking a seat on the bed beside Van.


    ¡°Oh, dear gawd.¡± Van said in a voice which was of slightly higher pitch than normal and for the most part, under her breath.


    ¡°Something wrong?¡±


    ¡°Oops, I¡¯m sorry. Did I say that out loud? It¡¯s just that I, uh¡­ always wondered what it might look like¡­ under there.¡± She turned to look at Leland. ¡°Are you completely sure the sex is off the table, cause I would seriously consider a threesome right about now.¡±


    ¡°Very funny.¡± Nick extended his arm to her. ¡°Now can we please get this over with.¡±


    She took a moment to examine the veins in both his arms before selecting one, and a couple minutes later, the dastardly deed was done.


    Nick watched as Leland took much diligence in transferring his blood into what looked like small test tubes. When he was done, he screwed on a cap before holding one up to the light and examining it like it was liquid gold.


    ¡°Holy hell. Double V. Never thought I¡¯d see it for myself.¡±


    ¡°You people are sick.¡± Nick slipped his arms into his sleeves before pulling his shirt back on. The entire situation was unsettling to say the least. ¡°Truly, sick.¡±


    ¡°Hey. Do you know how much this goes for on the street?¡± Leland asked sounding smug.


    Nick turned on him feeling murderous. ¡°You promised it wouldn¡¯t leave this room.¡±


    ¡°Oh, no. Of course. I was just thinking, that if I had your blood¡­¡± he wisely let his voice trail off as Nick continued to stare.


    Nick took a deliberate step towards the smaller man, relishing in his immediate look of unease. ¡°Don¡¯t make me hurt you, Leland Brown.¡±


    ¡°Ah, okay. While this is sweet,¡± Van was suddenly standing between them, ¡°some of us should probably get going.¡± She turned to face Nick, smiling. ¡°I¡¯d offer to walk you out, but¡­ you know¡­ vampires.¡± She shrugged.


    ¡°Yeah, I think I¡¯ll leave the way I came.¡±


    ¡°Excellent choice.¡± She followed him to the window. ¡°I promise, if he tries anything stupid, I¡¯ll kick his ass myself.¡±


    Nick smiled as he slipped out the window, setting his feet upon the small ledge. ¡°I¡¯ll hold you to that.¡± He said before pushing off with a back flip and letting himself fall to the ground below.


    *


    Back in town, Nick pulled his bike into a deserted parking lot. He had arrived close to the coordinates Leland had provided. Unzipping the breast pocket of his jacket, he pulled out the vial of potion that he had picked up earlier that afternoon, as well as a blue toothbrush that belonged to Damon. He popped the cork off the bottle, which held a violet-coloured liquid, and put the business end of the toothbrush inside, swirling it around as he did. He wasn¡¯t sure¡ªperhaps it was only his imagination¡ªbut he thought he saw a little flash of light as the objects merged. At any rate, the potion did seem a little more glowy than it had been a moment before. Digging into his jeans pocket he brought out the necklace he was planning to use as a pointer. It was a hammered copper cross, strung on a black leather cord that at one time, Damon had worn religiously. He coiled the cord around his fingers so that the cross was lying center in his palm, before he discarded the toothbrush and splashed a bit of the potion across its surface.


    Immediately the cross sprang to life; lifting up from his palm as it yanked against its tether. If he hadn¡¯t wrapped it around his hand, he probably would have lost it as the necklace was wasting no time in trying to reunite with its owner. He unwound the cord to give it more freedom and headed off in the direction it was intent upon.


    He was glad for the darkness, and the absence of people as the cross was indeed glowing with a sparkly purple light as it led him along what were usually busy streets. He was in the commercial district and thankfully most of the stores had closed for the night. Two blocks east was restaurant row, (that area of the city where the apparent goal was to cram every known fast-food chain into a two-block strip) which would still be busy this time of night. Fortunately for him, the cross decided on a more westerly route.


    Rarely did it want to follow the layout of the streets; instead, it had him weaving through parking lots, strip malls and alleyways, car dealerships and at one point, even an elementary school, until he eventually reached a lower-middle class neighbourhood. He trod through streets with family homes that looked like they had been built in the seventies and eighties, with wide expanses of lawns¡ªunlike the newly developed areas where cookie-cutter houses were crammed together like sardines. At the back of the neighbourhood, where the street came to a dead-end, he came to a tall stone and cast-iron fence through which he could see a vast cemetery beyond.


    Not looking forward to scaling yet another fence, he instead began working his way around the perimeter, while the cross fluctuated like the arrow on a compass; north was definitely somewhere inside. He reached the entrance where a rusty chain on the ground between the massive gates indicated that someone had recently trespassed. There was a gravel laneway with recent tread marks; he could see where some vehicle had perhaps spun out too quickly, leaving a deep groove in the dirt.


    He swung the gate open, and followed the drive as it wound its way up towards an old chapel that sat on the crest of the hill.  It was here that the necklace was leading him, and he found it strangely ironic that the cross had brought him to an actual church, before he stashed it away in his pocket.


    The door like the gate before it swung easily open, and he found himself in a stuffy little entranceway. He entered the church and was met with an immediate cornucopia of smells; dust and mildew hung heavy in the air, with an underlying putrid smell that reeked of mice droppings, urine and undoubtedly the fetid stench of their carcasses. It was a shame really because at one time he imagined it had been a beautiful place of worship. He could see that a lot of craftmanship had gone into its original design; into the woodwork above the entranceway and windows and the pillars that reached towards the vaulted ceiling.


    The floor was solid hardwood, although well worn in areas, and he could see thin lines, tread marks in the dust, where it looked like a cart or wagon¡ªsomething with narrow tires anyway¡ªhad been wheeled across the floor. He followed the tracks towards the pulpit where they turned left in front of the pews before continuing onward along the wall of the church until they disappeared into a small hallway. There was a door at the far end of the hall, and a shallow stone staircase that led either down into darkness or up a small flight of steps to an open door above. The tracks of course, pointed down, where he lost them on the stairs. He pulled out his cellphone and flipped on the flashlight before heading down.


    The room below was cold, dark and empty. He scanned the room quickly with his phone, as he walked its perimeter, before deciding on an alternative form of search. Bringing up Damon¡¯s contact, he called him. The phone rang quietly as he pulled it away from his ear, and between the rings he could barely make out a second fainter sound, before Damon¡¯s voicemail picked up. Walking in that direction, he dialed again. Closing his eyes, he listened. There was definitely a sound coming from behind the wall¡ªa repetitive barking¡ªand he frowned as he realized.


    ¡°That jackass.¡± He muttered as he began frisking the wall. It didn¡¯t take him long before he found an area in the stone where his hand pushed right through. It was as he suspected. There was no other explanation for the cell signals disruption. Arms outstretched like a blindman, he felt for the outline of the entrance before stepping through the portal.


    *


    Damon had once more lapsed into a pain-induced loss of consciousness; a sweet respite from the relentless burn of the blade. Liberty was taking her time as she meticulously carved deep into the meat of his chest. When she seemed happy with the result, she would reheat the blade in the little magical fire, before she pressed it against his raw and bloody flesh; which would sizzle and smoke at its touch. The smell of burning flesh¡ªhis burning flesh¡ªwas overwhelmingly acrid and hung heavy in the air.


    He awoke this time, not by a splash of water to the face¡ªwhich Liberty was only too happy to provide each time he had previously blacked out¡ªbut by a familiar sound. Damon forced his eyes open, the stinging burn across his chest once more coming into focus as a grunt escaped his lips.


    He watched as Liberty set down her bloodied knife and instead reached for his cellphone in the pile of belongings, they¡¯d earlier relieved him of.


    Frowning, she glared at the caller I.D. before turning her smoldering look upon Damon.  ¡°It seems like someone is looking for you. Sad really,¡± she said with a pout as she set the phone down upon the crate and once more picked up the knife, ¡°that they¡¯ll never see you again.¡± She started back towards him; knife raised, a malicious smile on her lips. ¡°Now, where were we?¡±


    Slowly, she dragged the tip of the knife across the unmarred skin of his belly. He tried to withdraw from the blade; to tighten his midsection and suck in his gut. It was a response that was as hopelessly in vain as it was automatic. Retreat was futile. With his back against the wall, there was nowhere for him to go. Still the action did not go unnoticed by Libby, who bit her lip enticingly as she moved in closer still.


    ¡°What¡¯s the matter?¡± Liberty asked when her face was dangerously close to his. ¡°Don¡¯t you like me?¡± Her breath was hot against his lips, the tip of the knife still resting against his stomach.


    Behind her the cellphone came to life with the same strange ring as before, as it literally barked for attention. In that moment of distraction, Damon struck out with his forehead, butting his brow sharply into her face.


    A surprised gasp of pain erupted from Libs mouth, and she took an unbalanced step backwards, arms flailing and almost stumbling over the crate on the floor behind her. The knife clattered noisily to the ground; momentarily lost as she brought up a hand to her injured face. Fresh blood adorned her fingertips.


    ¡°Son of a¡ª¡± she caught herself mid-curse only to look up at him and smile. ¡°I didn¡¯t think you had any fight left in you.¡±


    Once more the phone barked. Lib snatched it up, annoyed this time as she glanced at the same caller ID. Rushing forward, she mashed the device up into Damon¡¯s face before breathlessly screaming at him. ¡°Just who the hell is NIKO?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯d be me.¡±


    Libby¡¯s eyes grew wide as a strong forearm snaked around her. She reflexively seized the arm, perhaps ready to fight, only to have the blade that she¡¯d earlier lost press up tight against her throat. She immediately froze.


    ¡°Play nice, and I won¡¯t hurt you anymore than I have to.¡± He told her before turning his attention to Damon. ¡°Hold on. I¡¯ll have you free in a second.¡±


    Damon nodded, struggling to speak. ¡°Wih¡ªWitch.¡±


    ¡°Is that right?¡± Nick said looking down his chest at the redhead he held there. ¡°You know, I can never tell when they aren¡¯t green.¡±


    Damon smiled and immediately regretted the action which stretched his split lip, but the look on Liberty¡¯s face¡ªa look of shock which immediately morphed into one of outrage¡ªwas an amusing sight.


    ¡°Guess I¡¯d better shut you up quick,¡± Nick spun around, taking the little witch with him.


    Liberty apparently assumed that meant the worst for her, because she began to struggle against him, regardless of the knife at her throat. She dropped her weight, lifted her feet off the ground and using his arm as support attempted to swing her heels back into his shin.


    What she hadn¡¯t anticipated however was that Nick was freakishly strong. Her shifted weight hadn¡¯t thrown him off balance as she¡¯d expected. He could easily support her weight as she hung on his arm, and perhaps anticipating such shenanigans, had simply swung his arm out to his side, so that he was now holding her under his arm perpendicular to him, like a parent might tussle with an enraged toddler.


    This only proved to further annoy Libby, who began kicking wildly and trying to slam her elbows into his side. ¡°Let me go,¡± she grunted as she struggled.


    ¡°Uh-uh. I think that would be exceptionally bad for me.¡± He walked a few more steps before he fell to his knees beside an old steamer trunk, dropping her face-down to the ground along with him. He pinned her, knee against her back as he set the knife down to dig through the metal trunk.


    That was when Liberty apparently remembered she was a witch, capable of casting curses and other such skullduggery. Her face screwed up in anger as she snarled.


    ¡°Incen¡ª¡±


    ¡°Nope.¡± Nick muttered as he pulled her head back by her hair, before smashing her face roughly into the floor. He then raised her face again, which was now gushing blood from her already injured nose, to stuff a dirty bit of material he¡¯d got from the trunk into her mouth.


    Damon grimaced in sympathy. Well, he had warned her. He watched as she gagged on the rag and kicked her legs, as Nick seized her arms. He thought that Nick was being rather restraint, as he tied her hands behind her back, before addressing her feet in a similar fashion. If their positions had been reversed, he doubted he¡¯d be nearly as nice.


    When Nick was done, all Liberty could do was thrash around like a magikarp and throw them nasty looks.


    Taking the knife, Nick stood and moved to his side. He put a gentle hand on Damon¡¯s chin and grimaced as he examined his battered face before dropping his eyes to his chest.


    ¡°Aw, hell.¡± He muttered as he took in Liberty¡¯s handiwork. Large letters had been carved deep into his chest: D E M O and the beginning of what was undoubtfully an N. ¡°Stupid witch spelt your name wrong.¡±


    Damon sputtered and choked as he tried not to laugh. It hurt fabulously. ¡°Buh¡ªBehave.¡± He was still struggling to get the words out, whether it was the spell they had originally silenced him with, or simply his dry throat and battered face that wouldn¡¯t cooperate.


    Nick slipped off the noose around his neck, being careful not to brush his face with it as he did, before turning his attention to his hands and the large metal spikes that had been hammered through them. He then turned back to Damon, offering him the leather strap at his mouth.


    ¡°This isn¡¯t going to tickle.¡± He said, his somber eyes betrayed his feelings.


    Nick was a bit of a bleeding-heart, and he knew that the idea of causing him pain, cut him deep. As a child he¡¯d witnessed a lot of carnage and injustice; as a result, he had grown into a rather gentle and compassionate adult.


    Damon nodded briefly and opened his mouth to accept the strap. Nick briefly returned the nod, his lips a taut line as he moved to Damon¡¯s left hand. He slipped the flat blade of the knife under the head of the spike and turned to him once more. ¡°Ready? On three.¡±


    Damon once more nodded.


    ¡°One, two¡ª¡±


    He grunted, biting down hard as Nick pulled back on the knife, and with a flourish of pain, the spike came free, clanging nosily to the ground. Damon immediately curled his arm up to hold it against his chest. The muscles and tissue ached painfully after being forced in a static position for so long. They still had a second hand to free, when a loud clanging sound began beyond Nick.


    Liberty had managed to worm her way into a position where she could kick her legs into the metal steamer trunk, obviously deciding that if she couldn¡¯t free herself, she could at least sound the alarm.


    He knew his right hand was much more mangled than his left and wasn¡¯t surprised that Nick grimaced when he saw it.


    ¡°And again,¡± Nick said as he withdrew the second spike.


    Pain exploded once more: in his hand, up his arm and set the cluster of nerves in his belly on overload. He pitched forward as his knees buckled, but Nick was there to catch him.


    Nick threw his arm around Damon¡¯s waist and Damon¡¯s arm over his shoulder as he half-dragged, half-carried him towards the door. They were almost there when hurried footfalls on the stairs beyond, caused Nick to pause. Putting a finger to his lips, he let Damon slump to the floor, resting him against the workbench, before quickly moving to the opposite side of the doorway. A moment later, three figures came charging into the room.

 THIRTEEN

    THIRTEEN


    It was late, and Faith was considering going home. She was sitting with Hope by her computer, her feet on the edge of her seat, arms curled around her legs as Hope played a sitcom on Webflicks. Hope seemed fully engrossed in the comedy as she giggled along with the laugh-track, as Faith pouted miserably beside her.


    It had been several hours now that they¡¯d had Damon in their custody, and they had yet to learn anything about Allie¡¯s whereabouts.


    ¡°These things take time,¡± Hope had said reassuringly, as they two had remained upstairs while Justice and Liberty had gone down to the basement to question him.


    Later that afternoon, Justice had returned and immediately lain down for a nap. At dinner time, she and Hope had made a simple meal: pasta with meat sauce, garlic bread and a Caesar salad, and Liberty had come upstairs to join them.


    Faith had immediately started to interrogate her on the ongoing interrogation, but Liberty had waved her silent. ¡°I¡¯m making headway,¡± she said as she munched on a piece of garlic toast.


    ¡°After dinner, I¡¯ll join you,¡± Justice had said, to which Liberty simply shook her head as she hastily swallowed.


    ¡°That would be counter-productive,¡± she¡¯d said with a shrug. ¡°I¡¯ve finally got him talking¡ªthere¡¯s no sense in changing tactics now. It¡¯d be better if you rested and took over for the nightshift.¡±


    After dinner, she and Hope had cleared the table and washed the dishes, while Justice had put away the leftovers. Liberty had immediately disappeared back down to the basement to continue her questioning.


    Faith was ready to call it a night, when a loud ruckus erupted from beneath them. They had glanced at one another before jumping to their feet and running towards the stairs, falling in line behind Justice, who was already scampering down.


    The door near the bottom of the stairs was standing open. Justice went sprinting through as Faith entered behind her.


    ¡°Good Goddess,¡± Justice yelled as she spotted Liberty and raced to her sister¡¯s side. She pulled her up and began to immediately untie her as Liberty flailed and tossed her head madly in Faith¡¯s direction.


    Faith heard a sudden shocked gasp and turned to see that they weren¡¯t alone. A large man had grabbed Hope from behind, his left arm was across her chest, his right hand was at her throat.


    ¡°Uh, Justice,¡± Hope had called out timidly.


    Hope¡¯s voice wavered as she spoke, causing Justice to abandon her mad attempts at freeing Liberty and glance in her direction instead.


    ¡°Step away,¡± He warned as he strode forward, forcing Faith to move back. ¡°No one needs to get hurt.¡±


    Justice glowered as she took in the scene. Spotting Damon, she glanced towards the empty wall where¡¯d he previously been held and then back at Liberty, before focusing once more on Hope and her captor. She looked to be considering her options, when the man tightened his hand on Hope¡¯s throat, and she squeaked.


    ¡°Okay.¡± Justice immediately threw up her arms, as she slowly rose to her feet, and stepped away from Liberty. ¡°Just please, don¡¯t hurt her.¡±


    Faith silently watched the exchange. She could see Justice from the corner of her eye, and Damon who was a bloodied mess on the floor; but most of her attention was focused on the man who held Hope captive. Something was bothering her about the man, and the little voice in the back of her mind was nagging at her to remember. She thought he looked vaguely familiar. Had she met him somewhere before? Realization came rushing up on her, and she felt her mouth drop open as it finally hit her. She had most definitely seen him before¡ªhad spent at least an hour drinking and socializing with him¡ªshe hadn¡¯t recognized him perhaps because that night, his face had worn an almost perpetual grin. The dangerous expression he wore now resembled nothing she¡¯d seen that evening.


    ¡°Nick?¡± She watched his eyes turn and focus on her, perhaps for the first time.


    ¡°Faith?¡±


    ¡°You know this fucker?¡± Justice hissed as she stepped up beside her. Nick¡¯s eyes had immediately shifted back to Justice as he must have deemed her the imminent threat.


    ¡°Yeah. I guess I do.¡± She heard surprise in her own voice.


    ¡°We can take him,¡± Justice whispered in a voice so low that Faith struggled to hear her.


    ¡°Not before I break her neck.¡± Nick shifted his grip as he glared at Justice. The hand that was across Hope¡¯s chest now gripped her chin, and his other was on the upper side of her head. He actually looked like he might follow through with his threat. How he had actually heard Justice¡¯s remark in the first place, well, that was a mystery of its own, because she who was standing shoulder to shoulder with her had barely grasped what she¡¯d said.


    There was a quiet hic, which caused Nick to drop his eyes to Hope, who¡¯s chest was hitching as she sobbed. His face immediately lost its angry glare to be replaced by a look of helplessness. His distress was such, that Faith actually felt a little bad for him as he relaxed his grip and dropped his head so that he could speak in Hope¡¯s ear.


    ¡°Hey, now. Don¡¯t do that. Everything¡¯s going to be okay.¡± He glanced back at Justice then. ¡°Your sister won¡¯t let it come to that, will she?¡±


    Justice¡¯s shoulders slumped. ¡°Of course not.¡± And Faith wasn¡¯t surprised to see that she had teared up as well.


    ¡°I just came for my friend,¡± Nick nodded towards Damon who looked wholly unable to move on the floor beside him. ¡°This doesn¡¯t have to end badly.¡±


    Damon looked as if he was doing everything in his power just to remain conscious, and Faith found herself considering his substantial injuries for the first time. His face was swollen and busted and there were gash marks across his chest, deep enough that she thought she spotted bone ¨C a bit of his sternum. It took her mind another second to recognize that the slashes were letters.


    She turned an angry gaze towards Liberty. ¡°You tortured him?¡±


    Liberty who was still bound and gagged, but at least upright as she leaned back against the trunk shrugged dispassionately.


    Faith¡¯s stomach churned. The situation had gotten entirely out of hand, and worst still, she had been the cause of it all. She turned to Justice. ¡°We have to let them go.¡±


    ¡°What? Are you crazy?¡± Justice crossed her arms and regarded her incredulously. ¡°What about your friend?¡±


    ¡°What friend?¡± Nick was staring at them, perhaps trying to make sense of it all.


    ¡°Allie. She¡¯s missing.¡±


    She saw recognition and perhaps even sympathy in his eyes, before he glanced confused towards Damon and then again to her. He seemed to choose his words carefully as he addressed her. ¡°That¡¯s unfortunate, but¡­ what does it have to do with Damon?¡±


    ¡°Uh, Well...¡± Faith glanced nervously at Justice who flashed her a rather supercilious look. There would be no help there, she realized. ¡°He¡¯s¡­you know,¡± Faith brought her hands up to her chin and made little claw gestures with her hands. ¡°Grrr¡­¡±


    Nick frowned. ¡°So, you think that he, what exactly? That he ate her?¡±


    Justice was now smirking at her. Her earlier dissention had left her completely on her own. ¡°Well¡­¡± she squeaked. ¡°If the monster fits¡­¡±


    Nick dropped his head to Damon. ¡°Did you eat Allie?¡±


    Damon shook his head. He no longer looked annoyed by the accusation as he had last night. Just exhausted.


    ¡°He says he didn¡¯t eat her.¡±


    Justice who¡¯d been regarding the exchange rather humorously finally spoke up. ¡°And we¡¯re just supposed to take you at your word¡ª¡±


    ¡°Hey!¡± Nick bellowed at her. ¡°He may be a pretentious overbearing jackass with a penchant for blood drinking, but he isn¡¯t¡ªa liar.¡±


    Faith stared at him incredulously and then realized that everyone held similar bemused expressions; including Damon who looked rather chagrined by it all.


    ¡°Well, I¡¯m sold.¡± It was Hope who broke the stunned silence. She was still standing with Nicks arm around her, but it had since dropped to her waist, as he now appeared to be embracing her, rather than holding her prisoner. She looked up at him pleadingly. ¡°Can I go now?¡±


    ¡°Uh, sure. If your sister promises us safe passage.¡±


    Justice nodded her agreement, and Nick immediately released Hope. She went to her sister where they hugged briefly, before they went to free Liberty. Nick too, had helped up Damon, who now leaned heavily against him.


    The sisters said nothing as they passed by her, although Hope did glance back with a doleful look before she exited the room. It was Liberty who paused a moment as she regarded Nick. She looked as if she¡¯d taken a bit of a beating herself. There was a cut across the bridge of her nose, blood on her face and bruising in the corners of her eyes.


    ¡°His things are over there,¡± she pointed vaguely towards an overturned crate, before following her sisters upstairs. ¡°If you want them.¡±


    Nick nodded, and leaned Damon up against the workbench, as he went to retrieve his belongings.


    Faith sighed. She supposed the invitation to join their little coven was revoked and realized that while the offer had initially been flattering, that she was okay with the decision. Although Hope was sweet, the other two sisters were much too blood thirsty for her liking. Besides, she already had a coven who accepted her for exactly who she was.


    Nick returned momentarily to pass Damon his belongings: a cellphone, wallet and set of keys, and as Damon tucked the items away, Nick stooped to pick up an old green soda bottle. Faith watched as he tossed it gingerly between his hands, testing its weight.


    ¡°So, I guess we should we go?¡± She glanced between the two men. Damon looked like he¡¯d rather kill her than kiss her, and Nick standing a couple feet behind Damon, was strangely preoccupied with his bottle.


    ¡°You abducted me.¡± Damon jabbed an angry finger in her direction.


    It was the most he¡¯d said all evening, and she thought that either he had finally got his strength back or had otherwise been feigning his apparent weakness. She decided to believe it was the latter as he continued with hostility.


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    ¡°Tortured me. You can¡¯t possibly think¡ª¡±


    There was a hollow thunk as Damon¡¯s eyes rolled back into his head, his body went limp, and he crumpled heavily to the floor. Nick was standing behind him, looking down, and holding the bottle by its neck, arm outstretched from his side.


    Faith gasped. ¡°What the¡ª Did you just hit him?¡±


    ¡®Huh? Oh.¡± Nick looked at her sheepishly, like a naughty child who¡¯d just got caught in a lie before he dropped his eyes and shrugged. ¡°There was no way he was going through that portal willingly.¡± He tossed the bottle upon the workbench before he picked up Damon and slung him over his shoulder. He held his arm out towards the door. ¡°After you.¡±


    Faith nodded and led the way. They crossed through the portal. By now she knew it¡¯s placement in the wall by heart. Stepping through into the pitch-black of the church however was still a bit disorienting. Not only was it the lack of light, but the drop in temperature immediately brought gooseflesh as a chill washed over her.


    She could sense that Nick was behind her, although he made no sound, and his form was entirely lost in the darkness. There was a prickling at the back of her neck, an eerie awareness that she was not alone, and she thought that it might be some primordial survival sense kicking in. Would she have still felt that strange sensation if she hadn¡¯t known he was there? She rushed to bring out her cell phone, as it occurred to her that if Nick decided to harm her in any way, there¡¯d be little she could do about it. She pulled it out of her pocket, flipped on the flash, and shone it in the direction she thought he was in.


    He was a few feet behind her. He raised his hand to block the light from his eyes. ¡°Hey. Think you could lower that?¡±


    ¡°Uh, sure.¡± She felt suddenly silly as she found him standing there. He was probably waiting for her to lead the way again. She moved towards the wall and followed its length to the stairs. It wasn¡¯t until she stepped into the stairwell, that she could see a dim light above.


    ¡°So, what was that thing about Damon and the portal?¡± She asked as he followed her up.


    ¡°Oh, right. Ah, well¡­ Damon has a thing about magic.¡±


    ¡°A thing?¡±


    ¡°Yeah. He doesn¡¯t trust it.¡± They had reached the top of the stairs and were now heading down the aisle between the wall and pews as they headed towards the front door. Moonlight was streaming through the lancet windows leaving narrow rectangles of light in the nave of the church. ¡°Or magic users for that matter. No offence.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡± She thought about that. ¡°I guess being abducted by witches isn¡¯t going to change his mind about that anytime soon.¡±


    ¡°Probably not.¡±


    She couldn¡¯t see if he was smiling, but the tone of his voice made it sound like he was. She stopped as she reached the door and turned to look at him. ¡°How about you? What do you think about magic?¡± She opened the door and stepped out of the stuffy church. The fresh air was immediately refreshing.


    ¡°Well¡­I guess I don¡¯t feel it¡¯s either good or bad.¡± He joined her at the top of the church steps. ¡°I think it all depends on the user, and the ones I¡¯ve met have been pretty decent people.¡±


    He jogged down the stairs ahead of her.


    She thought he was being awfully diplomatic, especially considering everything they had just gone through, but was happy to hear it. She needed to properly apologize for her own involvement. She hadn¡¯t been raised to fear other creatures. Their shop sold to witches and demons and werewolves alike and she¡¯d dealt with them on the daily. So why should she believe vampires were any different? If she hadn¡¯t met the sisters, she probably wouldn¡¯t have gone to such extremes.


    Nick had halted at the bottom of the stair, and she quickly joined him. ¡°Nick, about tonight. I mean, about what happened, I just want¡ª¡±


    ¡°Shh.¡± Nick raised a finger in her direction. ¡°We¡¯re not alone.¡±


    Faith froze and immediately began glancing around, feeling exposed. The fact that they were standing outside of an abandoned church in the middle of a cemetery didn¡¯t help matters. The moon above cast shadows everywhere, the wind too, took its turn blowing the grass and whispering through the leaves in the trees. She looked to Nick who had his eyes closed and his chin raised into the wind. He opened his eyes momentarily and turned to her.


    ¡°Watch this for me?¡± He asked as he set Damon at her feet. Without waiting for her to answer, he dashed off.


    *


    Nick had smelt him on the wind. He¡¯d been wondering when one of them might make an appearance. He rounded the side of the church and started making his way through the headstones at a steady pace. Deep pockets of shadow cast down by the moon gave ample places in which to hide. He paused again to try to pick up the scent. He turned his head and spied movement. He was there, picking his way silently through the tombstones. In a moment he came further into view and Nick could see the milky glow of his eyes. He thought it might be Adam¡ªin wolf form he would have had no trouble identifying him¡ªand wherever there was Adam, Marcus was sure to be close by as well. He wondered if there were any more out hunting him tonight.


    He scanned the area, looking for a second wolf, and caught movement along the side of a mausoleum. Something was lurking there in shadow. When it stepped out, he immediately saw that it wasn¡¯t a wolf but a man. When the man raised something to his shoulders, Nick swore. Not again. He looked in the direction the man was aiming and spotted a second wolf. Marcus¡ªat least he assumed it was Marcus¡ªhad stopped to smell something and was unaware that he was being targeted.


    Nick charged. There was no time to shift. No time to plan. No time to move stealthily. His footfalls thundered as he raced across the lawn towards the hunter. He reached him just as the man became aware and tackled him. The crossbow went off¡ªthe arrow fired harmlessly skyward¡ªas they tumbled and rolled, until they finally came to rest a few feet apart in the grass.


    Nick looked to his left, to determine the state of the hunter, and immediately recognized him. He was wearing green cargo pants with a camouflage print and a black t-shirt. His hair was slicked back, and he had black face paint streaked across his face. He was rising to his knees and had just pulled out a knife.


    ¡°Jasper? What the hell are you doing here?¡± He asked as he rolled to a sitting position.


    Jasper looked startled and it took a moment for him to respond. ¡°Nick?¡± The hand with the knife lowered. ¡°What the hell? Why did you tackle me?¡±


    Nick thought it was rather obvious, but he pointed anyways. ¡°Crossbow. I¡¯m gonna go out on a limb here, but I doubt you¡¯re out ghostbusting.¡±


    Jasper struggled to his feet and began wildly looking around. ¡°Dammit, Nick. You made me miss my shot.¡± He spotted his crossbow and moved to fetch it.


    Nick got to his feet. ¡°Yeah, buddy. That was kinda the point. You didn¡¯t answer my question. What are you doing here?¡± He heard the impatience in his voice and wasn¡¯t surprised when Jasper turned to him with narrowed eyes.


    ¡°This is where my potion brought me.¡± He pulled a brass compass out from his pocket. It was sparkling with a familiar purple light.


    Uh-oh. A very bad feeling was creeping along his back. He decided to play dumb. ¡°Your potion brought you to a mausoleum?¡±


    ¡°What? No. It brought me to¡ª¡± Jasper sighed as his shoulders dropped. ¡°Listen, I know this is going to sound strange¡­ but then again, if anyone were to understand, it would probably be you.¡± He took a deep breath and blurted, ¡°My brother was killed by a werewolf. There. I¡¯ve said it.¡±


    Oh hell. ¡°And you thought that wolf was¡ª¡±


    ¡°It can¡¯t be a coincidence, can it? I follow the potion here, to this cemetery and a wolf shows up with glowing eyes.¡± He tucked the compass away.


    Nick pinched the flesh between his eyes and exhaled. This was not good. Jasper thought that Marcus was the wolf who had slaughtered his brother. And it would be easy enough to let him go on believing that¡ªin fact, it might even work out for him, if it meant that Jasper would go after the coward who¡¯d¡ª


    ¡°It was me.¡± He heard himself blurt. ¡°I killed your brother. I¡¯m sorry, but it was me.¡±


    Jasper stared at him blankly. After an eternity he spoke. ¡°That¡¯s not funny.¡±


    ¡°No. It¡¯s not.¡±


    Jasper shook his head and began to pace. ¡°No. You didn¡¯t¡ªmy brother was killed by a werewolf.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m a werewolf, Jasper.¡± He began pacing alongside him as he tried to catch his eye, to make him look at him. Dammit. If he would only stand still. He grabbed Jasper by the shoulder and forced him to face him. ¡°I¡¯m so sorry. I killed your brother, but you have to believe me, he gave me no choice.¡±


    Jasper flung his arm off him. ¡°Prove it. If you¡¯re a werewolf Nick, then prove it. Show me!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not gonna do that, Jasper.¡±


    His brow furrowed. ¡°Why not? I mean, if it¡¯s true, then why not show me.¡±


    Why not? Because you are seriously worked up at the moment; there¡¯s a crossbow lying only a few feet away; and I have already done my impersonation of a shish kabob ¡­


    ¡°Because then we can¡¯t speak. I can¡¯t explain the situation and ask for your forgiveness.¡± Nick exhaled. He¡¯d confessed, but Jasper wouldn¡¯t accept it. He didn¡¯t know how to get through to him¡ªand then it dawned on him. ¡°I can give you your proof.¡±


    Jasper¡¯s eyes softened and he raised a brow instead. ¡°How?¡±


    ¡°Pull out your compass. Open it. It¡¯ll point to me.¡±


    Jasper stared at him for a moment before he dug into his pocket and pulled it out. He gazed silently at the compass in his hand but made no move to open it.


    ¡°Go ahead, if you want your proof.¡±


    Instead of opening it, he let his arm drop to his side. ¡°I loved my brother, but he could be a real jerk sometimes, y¡¯know.¡±


    He did know. ¡°Yeah. It comes with the territory.¡±


    Jasper sank to the ground, crossing his legs as he sat. ¡°You got a brother?¡±


    Nick nodded. ¡°Yeah. I have a couple, actually.¡± While he couldn¡¯t remember his birth brothers, he did have Damon and Nathan who he supposed were just as good, if not better. He glanced around and spotted two wolves lurking between the tombstones a good twenty feet away. He doubted that they would try anything until he was alone, so he dropped down to sit by Jasper, assuming a similar position.


    ¡°We shouldn¡¯t have been in the woods that night.¡± Jasper had his hands folded in his lap and was staring at them as he spoke. ¡°But he was trying to prove himself to father. There was an attack at our village. Two boys were mauled. They survived, but when the moon came up¡­¡± He let his voice trail off.


    Yeah. He knew that story. ¡°The same thing happened to a group of boys here.¡±


    Jasper looked up and carefully searched his face. ¡°It did?¡±


    He nodded and pointed over Jasper¡¯s shoulder. ¡°That¡¯s two of them there. It¡¯s why I stopped you. They¡¯re just a couple of kids.¡±


    Jasper had looked as he pointed, before turning back to Nick. ¡°There was this man. A stranger that was hanging around the village. When the boys ran away, he disappeared too. We tracked him, my brother and me. We were stupid. So unprepared.¡± He slammed his fist into the ground.


    ¡°I know the man you¡¯re looking for and I¡¯ve seen your runaways. I ran into them the night your brother shot me, the night I¡­  Your brother, I thought he was after the boys.¡± He dropped his head not knowing what else to say. It was a shitty situation all around, and he didn¡¯t know how to make it right.


    ¡°I still want my vengeance.¡±


    Nick looked up. ¡°I¡¯m not about to let you kill me.¡±


    Jasper shook his head. ¡°No. Not you. Him¡ªthe one who started it all. He has to pay for what he¡¯s done. And I need to bring the boys back to the village. It¡¯s their home, and their families are missing them.¡± Jasper reached out and took him by the arm. ¡°Can you help me, Nick? Can you help me find this bastard.¡±


    He nodded. He wanted this bastard gone as much as Jasper did. ¡°I can. I doubt they¡¯re still where I last saw them, but I can track them down. It might take me a few days, but we both want the same thing, so I don¡¯t see why we can¡¯t work together.¡±


    Jasper agreed and they exchanged numbers. They parted ways and he walked out towards the wolves, who both turned tail and scampered off as he drew close. He watched them retreat, before he turned and headed back to the church. When he reached the gravel drive, Faith came running out to meet him.


    ¡°What happened? Is everything okay? You scared me running off like that.¡± She looked like she wanted to deck him.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡± He stooped to pick up Damon. ¡°Everything¡¯s fine now.¡±


    She frowned at him and said in a huff, ¡°Well, you shouldn¡¯t have left me alone.¡±


    Nick smiled and had to choke back a laugh. Just who did she think she was kidding? She had just abducted Damon. If she could do that, then she could clearly take care of herself. But he minded his manners and apologized instead. ¡°You¡¯re right. I shouldn¡¯t have left you alone. I apologize.¡±


    He started down the laneway with Faith at his side. She was wearing a dress and a small denim jacket. She had her arms crossed and he wondered if she might be cold. ¡°So, how are we going to find Allie?¡±


    She stopped and looked at him suspiciously. ¡°We?¡±


    ¡°Why not? I just tracked down Damon, didn¡¯t I?¡¯ He continued walking, which forced Faith to jog to catch up.


    ¡°How did you do that, anyway?¡± She asked when she was once again at his side. She still sounded suspicious.


    ¡°Ah, Well, I used a blend of technology and the mystical arts.¡± He said in what he thought was a mysterious tone of voice. When she glared at him, he clarified. ¡°I used a hacker and a tracking spell.¡±


    ¡°A tracking spell?¡± There was a note of disbelief in her voice.


    ¡°Yeah, there¡¯s a little shop downtown¡ª¡±


    ¡°Not the White Willow?¡±


    ¡°You know it.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, it¡¯s my family¡¯s store.¡±


    ¡°Then why do you sound so surprised?¡± They had reached the gate and he stopped as she seemed hesitant about her answer.


    ¡°Because I already tried that, and it didn¡¯t work.¡± She stared at the ground as she spoke and shook her head. ¡°I¡¯ve made such a mess of things. I should have asked my family for help from the beginning instead of turning to outsiders. My uncle, he¡¯s like, the king of potions. If he had made it, I know it would have worked.¡± She looked up at him with crinkled brows. ¡°And for what happened to Damon¡­ I¡¯m truly sorry. Will you tell him that for me?¡±


    He smiled. ¡°Sure thing, but don¡¯t lose any sleep over it. It¡¯s not like it¡¯s the first time someone¡¯s tried to kill us. Happened just last week, in fact.¡±


    She smiled. ¡°You¡¯re funny. Thanks for trying to make me feel better.¡± She marched through the gate and down to the street.


    ¡°I don¡¯t suppose you¡¯d like to share a cab?¡±  He called out to her.


    ¡°No thanks,¡±


    ¡°An uber?¡±


    ¡°Uh-uh.¡± She held up a set of keys. The lights of a sedan a few yards away flashed brightly against the dark. ¡°Got my own ride.¡±


    ¡°Can we get a lift?¡± he asked hopefully as she climbed into the vehicle.


    ¡°Nope.¡±


    He watched her pull out and pass him on her way up the street. Then the sedan stopped, the reverse lights came on, and the car backed up the street towards him. She rolled the window down and called out to him.


    ¡°You¡¯re lucky you¡¯re cute, ya know.¡±


    He grinned. ¡°It¡¯s my superpower.¡±


    She shook her head at him. ¡°Get in, before I change my mind.¡±


    He did.

 FOURTEEN

    FOURTEEN


    ¡°It¡¯s green. Is it supposed to be green?¡± Tish was peering into the pot as she stirred it over the hot plate with a spoon made of yew. ¡°It¡¯s goopy too. Is it supposed to be green and look like glue?¡±


    Faith looked up from the spell book and glanced at her cousin. Tish sported an apron over her little floral dress, and her mess of strawberry curls had been pushed back from her face with a headband. She wore a pair of thick safety goggles, rubber gloves and a hint of a frown over her green eyes.


    It was early and they had come to the magic shop to try their hand at yet another tracking potion. Whether this attempt would be more advantageous than the first, would be anybody¡¯s guess. Faith moved to peer into the pot. The potion inside was slowly bubbling, like lava on the discovery channel. It looked¡­wrong. Shouldn¡¯t it be a lot less viscous? Faith wrinkled her nose. ¡°I¡¯m not sure.¡±


    She went back to the level one spell book. It was dog-eared and worn and had drippings of candle wax¡ªan old copy one of their relatives had used in school. The tracking spell was on the lower right corner of the page and continued on the next. Going back over the ingredients, she flipped the page. ¡°Oh, no. Oh, no, no, no, no, nooooo!¡±


    ¡°What?¡± Tish came to peer at the book with her, eyes wide. ¡°Did we forget something?¡±


    ¡°The pages. They¡¯re stuck together. ¡°We¡¯ve mixed half a tracking potion with a salve for treating toe fungus. Stupid, stupid book.¡±


    Tish giggled. It was infectious.


    ¡°It¡¯s not funny.¡± She glared at her cousin, trying to keep a straight face. She couldn¡¯t.


    Tish turned off the hot plate. ¡°Well, back to the drawing board.¡± She picked up the pot, setting it aside to cool. When she removed the spoon a string of snot coloured potion clung to it, stretching like pizza cheese. She wrinkled her nose. ¡°Think we can compost this?¡±


    ¡°Ugh. Let¡¯s leave it for Uncle.¡±


    Tish readily nodded her agreement. She slid the goggles atop her head. ¡°Sounds good to me.¡±


    There was a clatter from the supply closet up front, and they both looked to see their uncle step into view, fighting with a mop as he did.


    Tish¡¯s eyes grew wide. ¡°Do you think he heard us?¡±


    Faith shook her head, smiling. ¡°Uncle Rowan? What are you doing here?¡± He was wearing his usual chinos and sweater, but instead of his familiar button-down shirt he wore a turtleneck instead. He glanced up looking surprised to see them, as he untangled his legs from the mop and pushed it back into the closet before shutting the door.


    ¡°You mean other than fighting with a mop? Just, whose idea was it to put the portal in the broom closet anyway?¡± He winked at them.


    Faith raised her eyebrow suspiciously. ¡°That would be you. But seriously, why are you here?¡±


    ¡°Just fetching a book. And you ladies, what are you up to?¡± He headed towards the bookshelf in back of the shop. Scanning the shelves, he pulled out a weathered tome. On the way back he stopped to glance at the mess in their pot. His brow wrinkled.


    ¡°Miserably failing at potions.¡± A glimmer of hope rose in her chest. ¡°I don¡¯t suppose you could give us a hand?¡±


    He shook his head. ¡°Ah. Not today, I¡¯m afraid. I¡¯m already running late for my group.¡± He tapped the spine of the book. ¡°Almost showed up without this.¡±


    ¡°Oh, right. How¡¯s that going?¡± On Sundays, her uncle ran an outreach program for wayward wizards. Their members included a wide variety of men of different skill sets and ages, from widowers or bachelors without a coven of their own, to angst-filled young men with axes to grind.


    ¡°Good. I feel we are starting to come together.¡± He glanced at his pocket watch. ¡°I do suppose I could spare a few minutes. What seems to be eluding you?¡±


    They gathered around him, showing him the book. ¡°Tracking potion.¡± Tish said.


    Faith nodded. ¡°I just can¡¯t get it to work.¡± She thought of the first spell she had used when trying to find Allie. The way finder¡ªAllie¡¯s hairbrush¡ª had just spun in circles.


    Uncle Rowan looked at the spell. ¡°What have you lost? Have you considered that getting a replacement might be easier than working the spell? Magic doesn¡¯t solve everything.¡±


    She shook her head. ¡°I¡¯m trying to find my friend.¡± And Maddie was irreplaceable, in so many ways: as a daughter, a sister and most importantly as a friend. She felt kinship for her from the moment they met. In a lot of ways, it felt like kismet.


    ¡°Ah. Well, that¡¯s your problem then. This is a level one spell for lost items. If you¡¯re searching for an entity, you need a level three tracking spell.¡± He went back to the bookcase and pulled out a leather-bound book. ¡°Here, try this. And do pay attention to any notes that may be in the margins. I¡¯ve refined most of these myself.¡±


    Tish clapped excitedly. ¡°How wonderful.¡± Faith frowned. At least one of them was happy to try the spell again.


    ¡°Well, I must be off.¡± Rowan said, returning to the supply closet. ¡°Best of luck.¡± And with that their uncle was gone.


    ¡°Ready to try again?¡± Tish was beaming, her eyebrows raised comically. Leave it to an air witch to be overjoyed by the concept of more work.


    She sighed. ¡°I suppose.¡± But couldn¡¯t suppress a smile of her own. Damn air aspects could be so contagious with their glass half full outlook on life. She flipped through the large tome, which wasn¡¯t any school edition, but rather a large book of potions her uncle had acquired. It looked old, its pages were heavier than normal paper and had a slight yellow tinge to them. As he mentioned, there were handwritten amendments to many of the potions throughout. Some were substitutions, while others suggested an increase or decrease of this ingredient or that. Sometimes it even suggested the specific tool in which to stir or even the direction: anticlockwise for better absorption.


    ¡°This is amazing.¡± Tish was huddled up beside her as they flipped through the pages.


    Faith nodded. ¡°It really is.¡± To think of all the patience and time that her uncle had spent refining the potions within made the book feel special, and left her feeling a bit nostalgic, the way one might feel when they discovered an old family photo album and perusing through realized that the long-forgotten history within, belonged to them.


    ¡°Oh, there!¡± Tish pointed and indeed it was the spell they were looking for. ¡°Potion for those who have strayed. Huh.¡± Tish read on. ¡°Those who wander are not always lost, but if your paths remain uncrossed; Light the flame and stoke the fire, brew this batch to aid your scryer. Walk the steps your stray has roamed; and soon enough you¡¯ll bring them home.¡±


    Faith scanned the spell. ¡°It doesn¡¯t look that hard. Five ingredients, spring water and¡­ oh, look! There¡¯s a notation from Uncle. He¡¯s crossed out the word crystal, in: ¡®crystal wand¡¯ and changed it to amethyst.¡±


    ¡°Do we have an amethyst wand?¡± Tish¡¯s nose wrinkled.


    ¡°We must. It¡¯s probably in one of the drawers here, or maybe in the front under lock and key.¡±


    Tish began opening the small drawers under the edge of the table. ¡°Nothing here. Oh, look. Gum.¡±


    Faith shook her head at her cousin. ¡°Out front then.¡±


    The keys were kept in the cash drawer which remained closed during the workday but today lay open as they approached. Taking them, she unlocked the heavy drawer beneath the counter. There were a number of supplies, their ledger, an order book¡ªnormal everyday items used in the daily running of their little shop. In the back she spotted a shallow wood box. It was about eighteen inches in length and had a mahogany finish. She pulled it out.


    ¡°I recognize that.¡± Tish said. ¡°It¡¯s Uncle Rowan¡¯s wiccaning gift from Nana. It¡¯s made from rowan wood and these symbols are all hand carved.¡±


    ¡°Well, that¡¯s fitting.¡± She nodded. Not only was Rowan her uncle¡¯s moniker, but the wood was known for its protective qualities as well. She opened the little box and smiled. ¡°Bingo.¡± Not only was there an amethyst wand nestled within the velvet lying, but other objects as well. She pulled out the wood and purple-crystal wand before replacing the box.


    ¡°Okay. Now we just need the ingredients. Why don¡¯t you read them to me, and I¡¯ll gather them up.¡±


    ¡°Sure, okay.¡± Tish returned to the spell book post-haste. ¡°We need berry of the elder tree times three; for wisdoms past, present and future.¡±


    ¡°Elderberry¡­¡± A harmless ingredient. Faith crossed to the other side of the shop where shelves lined the wall and housed a wide assortment of sundries. She located the dried berries in an octagonal shaped jar and pulled it down. ¡°Check.¡±


    ¡°A sprig of wandering Jew.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s another name for wandering Jew?¡± Faith quizzed her cousin as she spotted the dried plant in the floral baskets below.


    ¡°Spiderwort or inch plant.¡±


    ¡°Correct, and check. What else?¡±


    ¡°Eight tepals of knotgrass to bind.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re running low¡­ but check.¡±


    ¡°Stars of agrimony to light the way.¡±


    ¡°Why are they called stars?¡± she asked as she scanned the shelves.


    Tish exhaled noisily and Faith could not miss the note of disdain in her voice. Apparently, her cousin wasn¡¯t in the mood for a lesson. ¡°Because the five petaled flowers resemble the five points of a star.¡±


    ¡°Correct. And how many do we need?¡±


    ¡°Seven, plus or minus two. I guess that depends on strength?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll use nine then.¡± She figured they needed all the help they could get. ¡°And last but not least?¡±


    ¡°Fairy whisker. Fresh is best.¡±


    Faith headed back towards the counter and set the supplies upon its top. Mythical ingredients like harpy feathers and dryad tears were kept in a locked cabinet among the poisons. It wasn¡¯t that they were necessarily dangerous¡ªjust rare, and as a result expensive too. She retrieved the keys and unlocked the glass cabinet, searching the shelves. Each jar within had a small handwritten label in her uncle¡¯s notoriously neat and tiny penmanship. She pulled out the small cork-topped bottle and peered inside. Oh, crap. ¡°I don¡¯t suppose you know of a substitution for fairy whiskers¡ªmaybe wizards¡¯ beard or milkweed down?¡±


    ¡°Milkweed down?¡± She could hear the skepticism in her cousin¡¯s voice. ¡°Are you trying to trick me?¡±


    ¡°Not at all.¡± Faith sighed. ¡°It was just wishful thinking on my part, ¡®cause we are fresh out of fairy whisker and I am fresh out of ideas.¡± She groaned. Botanicals and seeds were easily acquired, in fact most spring they grew some out back of the shop and in winter at the greenhouse at home¡ªbut fairy whiskers¡­ that was something only bought out of necessity. And whomever had used the last one hadn¡¯t restocked. What the heck? It wasn¡¯t like there had been a sale on tracking potions.


    Tish came and joined her at the front. From out of the drawer, she pulled a worn red notebook that was alphabetized like an address book. ¡°There should be a list of suppliers in here.¡± She turned to the F section. ¡°Let¡¯s see¡­ fairy tears, fairy tooth¡ªwell, that¡¯s a switch¡ªfairy wings¡­ ah. Here it is. Fairy whisker. There¡¯s a name and number here for Cornelius Bung.¡± She wrinkled her nose. ¡°Ugh. Cornelius? Do you think his parents hated him?¡±


    Faith frowned and shook her head and pulled out her cell phone to call.


    A deep and gravelly voice answered. ¡°Bungs emporium, Cornelius Bung speaking. What can I fetch-ya?¡±


    ¡°Hi. I¡¯m calling from the White Willow and I¡¯m looking for Fairy Whiskers. Is that something you carry?¡±


    ¡°Yep. Fairy whiskers.¡± He repeated. ¡°Let me double-check.¡± There were some muffled sounds in the background as he set the phone down, and Faith thought she could hear him speaking with someone.¡±


    ¡°Fairy whiskers; can do. That¡¯ll be five for five.¡±


    ¡°Five dollars?¡±


    ¡°Are you playing me toots? Five hundred.¡±


    Crap. She knew they¡¯d be pricy¡ªmost mythical items were¡ªbut she didn¡¯t expect them to be that expensive. ¡°How much for one?¡± she asked hopefully.


    ¡°Serious Sweetheart? It¡¯s five for five. Take it or leave it. I should be charging extra for having to come out on the weekend. At least it¡¯s not raining.¡±


    This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    ¡°I¡¯ll take it. Them, I mean. Where are you located?¡±


    He laughed gruffly. ¡°Nice try. Meet me by the tunnel in the courtyard between Prince and King Street. Do you know it?¡±


    ¡°Of course.¡± Faith nodded. The court was between the streets and housed tiny bistros and specialty shops, which were attractive to tourists. There was a pedestrian walkway, a path and tunnels that joined the three streets to the courtyard in the downtown core. It was also supposedly haunted by a woman in black.


    ¡°Thirty minutes.¡± The gruff voice said before hanging up.


    Thirty-minutes. That didn¡¯t give them much time. She locked the cabinet and picked up the spell ingredients and headed to the worktable in back. She read the spell directions, and found it was fairly straight forward. Bless two ladles full of water and add the first four ingredients in the order they appear. Stir against the clock with a crystal (or amethyst) wand while speaking the incantation. Bring to boil and then simmer gently until the potion is but half. Cool completely and only then do you add the whisker last. Strain and Cork immediately.


    She turned to Tish. ¡°Okay. Start by blessing the spring water. That will take some time. Do you have your athame? If not borrow uncles from his wiccaning box up front. I know I saw one there.¡±


    Tish¡¯s eyes widened as she shook her head. ¡°Wait a minute! There¡¯s no way I¡¯m starting this without you. You know how bad I am at potions. It¡¯s my weakest subject.¡±


    ¡°But it¡¯s very straightforward, Tish.¡±


    ¡°Uh-uh.¡± She shook her head defiantly as she crossed her arms. ¡°Nope! I refuse.¡±


    Faith took a deep breath and tried not to let her irritability fall into her voice. ¡°But one of us has to start the potion while the other meets up for the fairy whiskers.¡±


    ¡°Me. Dibs. I call dibs. That. I¡¯ll do that.¡±


    ¡°No, Tish. I can¡¯t let you go out to meet a stranger on your own.¡±


    Tish frowned. ¡°I don¡¯t see why not. I¡¯m not a child. I¡¯m an adult. I can even buy beer. Besides, its broad daylight, and there¡¯s bound to be people around.¡±


    Oh, crap. She nervously bit her nail as she considered. Did she even have a choice? Tish had a point though; sometime when she wasn¡¯t looking her little cousin had grown up. She could feel herself caving. She groaned miserably. ¡°You promise you¡¯ll be careful?¡±


    Tish beamed ¡°Careful as Carter.¡±


    Wait. What? ¡°What does that even mean?¡±


    Tish shrugged. ¡°It¡¯s a saying.¡±


    Faith shook her head. ¡°No. I don¡¯t think it is.¡±


    ¡°C¡¯mon, Faith. I promise I¡¯ll be careful. Scouts honor and everything.¡± Tish begged as she clasped her hands together as if in prayer.


    ¡°Fine okay,¡± She went to the safe hidden beneath the counter. She punched in the code and took out yesterday¡¯s deposit, before counting out a wad of bills.¡±


    ¡°Here¡¯s five hundred dollars for five fairy whiskers. Five for five. Make sure you count.¡±


    ¡°Of course.¡± Tish slipped on a denim jacket before grabbing her purse. Along with her keds, she looked absolutely adorable.


    ¡°You¡¯re to meet him in the courtyard between Prince and King streets. You know the pedestrian tunnel there?¡± Tish nodded as she slipped the cash into her little purse. Faith shook her head upon seeing it. It was red, shaped like a ladybug and matched the red floral print on her yellow dress¡ªand Tish wondered why they all still thought of her as a child.


    ¡°I¡¯m off.¡± Tish said as she unlocked the front door, stepped outside, and paused momentarily to wave before heading off up the block.


    ***


    Nathan yawned. ¡°Why exactly, are we here?¡± He was sporting a serious case of bedhead, as he slumped across the table, his arms cradling his head. He peered up at Nick from over the frames of his dark sunglasses, blue eyes looking sleepy. Nick thought it was strange that he had decided to join him, since he wasn¡¯t much of a morning person¡­nor was he a day person for that matter. Generally speaking, being a vampire and all, daylight specifically wasn¡¯t usually his thing.


    Nick passed him a coffee as he joined him. They were sitting outdoors at the coffee shop, Sweet Sips. He had picked the table furthest away from the building, isolated and near a tall privacy hedge. He doubted the round, metal, umbrella-clad tables would remain out for much longer. It was already mid-October and this morning a hard frost had covered the lawn when they¡¯d left the apartment. The sky was overcast, and the morning air felt thick, like it wanted to storm. Aside from themselves, the small group of tables were empty. Across the street he could see the magic shop, just beyond Nate¡¯s shoulder.


    He took a sip of his coffee, which smelt like a wake-up call and was rich, creamy, and only slightly sweet. He shrugged. ¡°You didn¡¯t have to come.¡±


    Last night he¡¯d had Faith drop him off behind the building, where he¡¯d slipped in the back way. When he¡¯d got to the apartment, Nate was already in the living room watching Webflicks and mooching beer. When Nick hadn¡¯t shown up at the Pitt, Nate had taken it upon himself to drop by. It had worked out however, as Nate was able to ¡°help¡± put Damon to bed by offering him a feed of fresh blood¡ªwhich would jumpstart the healing process¡ªwhile he¡¯d gone back out to retrieve his bike.


    ¡°Well, I couldn¡¯t let you go out on your own,¡± Nate mumbled as he opened his coffee and took a sip. He wrinkled his nose and made a face.


    Wait. Couldn¡¯t? What the hell? ¡°What¡¯s that supposed to mean?¡±


    Nate swallowed and suddenly seemed extremely interested in his cup. ¡°Uh, well¡­¡± He stared at his hands and the cup therein, refusing to make eye contact even from behind his darkened shades. ¡°Thing is¡­ I heard you got jumped by your pack.¡±


    Jumped. Damn. Nick felt his jaw clench. He supposed that was the truth, however he had hoped that little tidbit of information would remain private. He cleared his throat, trying to appear casual. ¡°Where¡¯d you hear that?¡±


    ¡°Damon.¡±


    That Jackass. He frowned as he fiddled with his own cup of coffee. ¡°And¡­ does anyone else know?¡±


    ¡°Hmm¡­just Ryan, I think.¡±


    Aw hell. If Ryan knew, then that meant Teresa also knew. Which meant that if Molly and Jess didn¡¯t already know, they soon would. He sighed and scrunched down in his chair feeling small. He already felt like the misfit of the group, knowing he could never truly belong in their world, and he was a pariah in his own, for few wolven looked kindly on a wolf who consorted with vampires.


    He took a sip of his coffee. ¡°I don¡¯t need a babysitter, Nate.¡± He tried not to sound as disgruntled as he felt. Behind Nate the little shop sat quiet and undisturbed. From his conversation last night with Faith, he had suspected she might drop by. But it was Sunday, and few cars lined the street as many of the shops were closed for the day.


    ¡°Of course not. I know that.¡± Nate shrugged. ¡°It¡¯s just¡­ sometimes it¡¯s nice to have someone watch your six.¡± He glanced over his shoulder, perhaps trying to determine what Nick had been staring at.


    ¡°Do me a favor?¡± Nick indicated with a nod of his chin, ¡°Walk by that shop over there and let me know what you see.¡±


    ¡°Me? Why me?¡± Nate turned in his seat to take a better look.


    He shrugged. ¡°I thought you had my six, but if you don¡¯t want to¡ª¡± He made a half-hearted attempt at standing up, only to have Nate jump to his feet.


    ¡°No, I¡¯ll do it.¡±


    He watched Nate cross the street, hands shoved deep within the pockets of his jeans, as he walked slowly along the large picture windows. When he had passed, he turned around and made a return trip before rejoining him at their table.


    ¡°So, what did you see?¡±


    ¡°Well, they are closed according to their sign. However, there are at least a couple of people inside. There are lights on in the back and I spotted two girls.¡±


    ¡°One a small blonde?¡±


    ¡°Uh, yeah. I mean, the windows are dark, but one of them could have been blonde.¡±


    He¡¯d hoped to have seen Faith¡¯s car, a gold sedan, parked nearby but it appeared she was already inside.


    ¡°So, why exactly, are you stalking this girl?¡± Nate took another sip of his coffee and made another face. Perhaps he should have gotten him tea.


    ¡°I¡¯m not stalking anyone. I know her. It¡¯s Faith. Do you remember Allie? Cute girl from the bar? Well, she¡¯s missing and I¡¯m helping Faith find her.¡±


    ¡°Huh.¡± Nate appeared to think about this for a moment before asking: ¡°Does she know you¡¯re out here helping?¡±


    He had him there. ¡°Ah, well¡­ she just hasn¡¯t realized she needs my help yet.¡±


    ¡°Uh-huh.¡±


    Across the street, the door of the magic shop opened, and a young red-haired woman stepped out. They watched as she waved to someone behind the glass before walking briskly up the street. When she was up the block and out of view, Nick started to strip.


    ¡°Uh, wait. No. What are you doing? Aww, please, don¡¯t.¡± Nate was glancing wildly around as Nick dropped first his motorcycle jacket and then the shirt he¡¯d been wearing onto the table. Nathan always got a little weird when the naked happened.


    ¡°You stay here and watch for Faith. If she leaves on foot, then follow her, I doubt she¡¯ll recognize you. I¡¯m going to shadow the red head.¡± He kicked off his sneakers.


    ¡°Why? Because you happen to have a thing for red heads?¡± Nate¡¯s tone was mocking.


    ¡°No. Well, yeah, you know I do. But that¡¯s not why. I was thinking more along the lines of how it¡¯s sometimes nice to have someone watch your back.¡± He smirked as he threw Nathan¡¯s words back in his face. ¡°Know what I mean?¡±


    Nate frowned and looked away as Nick shucked off his jeans. ¡°I said ¡®six,¡¯ ¡®I¡¯d watch your ¡®six,¡¯ which is way, way cooler.¡±


    Nick grinned, not that Nathan could recognize it as such as he was now in his wolf form. Instead, he wagged his tail enthusiastically.


    ***


    Tish glanced at the time on her phone as she walked briskly along the street. She had twenty minutes to get to the meeting spot and if all went well, she would reach her destination with time to spare. It was good that Faith had entrusted her with this task, it felt good to be deemed trustworthy by her older cousin.


    She was the baby of the family and sometimes it felt like they didn¡¯t take her seriously. It didn¡¯t help that she often had her head in the clouds and as such sometimes appeared a bit scatterbrained, an appearance she¡¯d recently been trying to overcome. She¡¯d buckled down on her studies and had gone out of her way to take on more responsibilities at the shop.


    This errand today was just one such step. Besides, she really did find potions intimidating. She hadn¡¯t been kidding when she told Faith that it was her weakest subject. She was most proficient with the air element, so the spoken word or incantations was where her strengths lay: in the power and the breath and the meaning behind the words. Now if she could only master Latin¡­


    She kept a quick pace as she turned onto Prince Street. The sky was overcast and growing darker with every minute. The wind had picked up and it looked ready to rain. She crossed the street at the next corner and reached the narrow walkway that extended down between two buildings to the courtyard beyond, just as fat drops of rain began to fall on the brick path in front of her. There was not one, but two restaurants in the court, with enough space for each to have an outdoor patio during the summer months. Her meet up was to take place in the covered walkway next to the Piggly Wiggly bar and grill which led out to King Street, and she hustled to get there to escape the rain.


    She reached the archway to the tunnel just as the sky broke open. The rain stormed so hard that it bounced as it struck the patio stones and the wind picked up whipping her skirt about and spraying her with a mist of cold water. She exhaled loudly. Just made it.


    Turning, she peered into the tunnel. It was darker there. The lights that were scheduled to come on at night hadn¡¯t lit just because the sky had darkened. She pulled her jacket close to her, crossing her arms to hug herself as she did. For the first time she felt nervous about her errand. The ¡°people¡± that she assumed would be out in the square had been driven to shelter by the sudden downpour. She took a deep breath. You can do this. She pulled her cellphone from her breast pocket as a noise behind her ¨C like the rush of wings ¨C made her jump. She wheeled to see not a bird, but a large dog that had also taken refuge from the rain, the startling sound a result of the dog shaking the water from its thick coat. When he had finally finished shaking, he looked up at her with brilliant blue eyes. Oh, he¡¯s beautiful. She bent forward, placing her hands on her knees as she looked down at the silver and white dog.


    ¡°Why, aren¡¯t you a handsome boy,¡± she said, her voice mirroring how one might speak to an infant. ¡°Yes, you are. Oh, yes you are.¡±


    In response, the dog cocked its head to the side as he regarded her curiously.


    Tish looked back out to the empty square. ¡°But where¡¯s your mommy or daddy?¡± She peered through the heavy sheet of rain. Seeing no one, she dropped to a squat and stretched out her arm as if she were looking for a fist bump. He approached her carefully, smelling her hand before coming closer and licking her on the chin.


    ¡°Aww¡­ you¡¯re a sweet boy.¡± Feeling secure, she reached out to gently stroke his head, before ruffling his neck as she searched for a collar that might be hidden within his thick mane of fur. Huh. No collar. He looked healthy and well taken care of. ¡°Someone¡¯s gonna be missing you.¡± She said as she stood. If he¡¯d had tags, she would have taken the time to call. Oh, well.


    She turned to the dark tunnel behind her and flipped on the flashlight in her phone. The area immediately beyond was empty, but up ahead the tunnel turned.


    She took a deep breath to settle her nerves before moving on. Around the bend, a short and stocky man leaned heavily against the wall ahead. He looked up at her as the light from her flashlight caught his attention.


    ¡°Hello,¡± she chirped, hoping her voice didn¡¯t betray her nervousness.


    ¡°Are you the bird who called?¡±


    ¡°Bird?¡±


    ¡°You know, the one looking for¡­¡± he lowered his voice as he glanced around suspiciously, ¡°the fairy whiskers?¡±


    Tish nodded. ¡°Yep, that¡¯s me.¡±


    The man breathed a sigh of relief. ¡°Afraid you weren¡¯t gonna show. Didn¡¯t want a wasted trip. My kind, we don¡¯t much like the rain.¡±


    ¡°Your kind?¡± Her voice sounded timid as she spoke.


    The man regarded her stonily, before his eyes momentarily flashed red.


    Oh! A demon. Somehow that made sense as fairy whiskers wasn¡¯t your run of the mill item.


    ¡°Did you bring the cash?¡±


    She nodded as she approached, hugging the opposite wall of the tunnel before turning to face him. ¡°Five hundred for five, right?¡± She pulled her purse forward to search for the cash Faith had given her.


    The demon grunted as he stood up from the wall. ¡°It¡¯s six now.¡±


    Tish froze as an icy burst flooded her veins. ¡°What? Didn¡¯t we agree on five?¡±


    ¡°That was before I had to come out in the rain.¡±


    Tish shook her head. ¡°The deal was¡ª¡±


    ¡°That was my brother¡¯s deal.¡±


    Your brother?¡±


    He nodded. ¡°Cornelius. I¡¯m his brother, Bart.¡±


    Bart Bung? Wow. That was so much worse than Cornelius. ¡°But I don¡¯t have six hundred. I only brought five.¡±


    Bart stepped forward as Tish backed up against the cool stone of the wall. ¡°Then you have a problem.¡±


    ¡°Can¡¯t you give me a break?¡± Her heart thumped loudly in her chest as he approached. She wondered if he could hear it.


    ¡°Do I look like a charity, here?¡± He grumbled as he towered over her, his eyes looking her up and down. ¡°Maybe we can work out a deal.¡±


    ¡°A deal?¡±


    ¡°You give me the five hundred,¡± he took another step forward and placed his thick hands against the wall on either side of her. ¡°And maybe you can work off¡ª¡±


    He broke off suddenly, as his eyes widened. Tish soon became aware of a strange sound, like water spraying against canvas. When the demon looked down, she followed his gaze.


    The dog was there, and he had lifted his leg to piddle against the demon¡¯s pantleg, which was now dripping with a darkening stain from the knee down.


    Bart jumped back, wheeling to face the dog. ¡°You, get!¡± he yelled and took a step forward to kick at the dog. The dog easily dodged the attack and barked once at him before dropping into a play-bow and wagging its tail at the demon.


    While the demon was distracted, Tish took the moment to back away from him. She didn¡¯t know how she was going to get the fairy whiskers now that he had changed their deal, but she hadn¡¯t liked the way he¡¯d been leering at her.


    Bart shook his leg, attempting to shake off some of the wet before he realized that Tish had retreated and was now a few steps away. He looked towards her and narrowed his eyes. ¡°Where do you think you¡¯re going?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve changed my mind,¡± she continued to back away. ¡°If you¡¯re not honouring our deal, then I¡¯ll look elsewhere.¡±


    An angry growl rose from the demon¡¯s throat and his eyes glowed red as he rushed her. Tish turned to run as he grasped her by the shoulder and pulled her violently around, just as the dog sprung on him, knocking him away from her and down to his knees.


    ¡°Oh, good boy!¡± Tish praised, as the dog pranced around the demon, his tail wagging happily. ¡°Such a good boy!¡±


    The demon snarled as he abruptly jumped to his feet, shoved Tish, and snatched her purse from her shoulder before running away in the opposite direction.


    ¡°Hey!¡± She struggled to keep her balance as the dog raced after Bart, easily catching up to him, and darting between his legs as he ran. Bart stumbled and went down hard, throwing his arms out in front of himself to break his fall. He froze, sprawled out on the pavement when the dog leapt on his back, one paw resting heavily on the side of his face, its gaping maw at his throat, as it growled in warning.


    ¡°Okay, okay, I give up.¡± Bart called out as Tish arrived. ¡°Now call him off.¡± He raised his hand with the purse in a gesture of surrender.


    Tish snatched back her handbag and shrugged. ¡°Not my dog.¡±  She turned to walk back the way she¡¯d come.


    ¡°Please,¡± Bart begged after her. There was a note of terror in the demon¡¯s voice.


    Tish sighed. She stopped and turned, slapping her hands against her thighs as she called him. ¡°Here boy. Where¡¯s my good boy?¡±


    He immediately responded, running up to her side as she turned and made her way from the tunnel. At the bend, she glanced back to see that the demon was already gone. Dang. I should have made him honour the deal. She sighed. She¡¯d been too scared to think clearly and now she had to return empty handed. Faith was not going to be happy.


    Stepping out of the tunnel she began walking back to the shop with the dog happily at her heels. At least it had stopped raining.

 FIFTEEN

    FIFTEEN


    Chaos. It was the only way to describe the scene that was playing out before her. Tish was screaming hysterically, as she backed into the shop towards her, hands reaching for whatever they could grasp on the sales table next to her. A dark-haired man was standing in the doorway with a bewildered expression on his face and Tish was throwing things at him. Anything really, whatever she could get her hands on. Heavy things. Solid things. Sharp and otherwise pointy things. Thankfully for him, her cousin had incredibly lousy aim.


    ¡°Who are you?¡± Tish screamed as an incense burner flew harmlessly past his ear. ¡°And why are you naked?¡±


    Seconds later, a blond-haired man burst through the doorway behind him. He hurled clothing at the man before taking up a shielding stance in front. ¡°Why the hell did you turn human?¡± he demanded.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t!¡± the man admitted as he struggled to hop into his jeans. ¡°Honestly, I¡¯m as baffled as you.¡±


    Faith sat on a stool behind the counter calmly taking it all in. She¡¯d been perusing the spell book their uncle had lent them, when the little bell over the shop¡¯s door had tinkled, announcing her cousin¡¯s return. That was when the insanity ensued.


    ¡°Nick?¡± She realized that she knew the naked man, that they had now crossed paths for the second time in as many days. ¡°Holy, crap. You¡¯re a werewolf.¡± She accused, as she hopped down from her stool.


    Nick narrowed his eyes at her as he tugged his jeans over his hips. ¡°May-be.¡±


    Faith came confidently out from behind the counter as Tish moved to huddle fearfully behind her. ¡°Oh, there¡¯s no maybe about it.¡± She crossed her arms as she stood in front of him, a knowing smirk on her face. ¡°You, Sir. Are busted.¡±


    Nick pulled on his shirt. ¡°But how¡ª¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s a sigil under the welcome mat, stupid. Come on, really? This is a magic shop. You seriously think we didn¡¯t have protection?¡± She glanced over to the second gentleman. He was handsome and blonde and immediately familiar. ¡°Don¡¯t I know you?¡±


    He shrugged. ¡°I think we met at the Pitt. I¡¯m Nathan.¡±


    Right. That was where she knew him from. He was the guy at the bar that Allie had been interested in.


    Tish was peeking at them from behind the safety of her shoulder. ¡°You know these weirdos?¡±


    ¡°Oh, right.¡± Reaching behind, she pulled Tish to her side and slid a comforting arm across her shoulders. ¡°Guys, this is my cousin Tish.¡± She pointed at Nate first. ¡°That¡¯s Nathan, and the previously naked one is Nick.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, sorry ¡®bout that.¡± Nick shrugged, looking sheepish. ¡°It¡¯s a wolf thing.¡±


    ¡°And now that everyone¡¯s been introduced,¡± she narrowed her eyes suspiciously at Nick. ¡°What are you guys doing here?¡±


    ¡°Allie. We should be working together to find her.¡±


    Faith shook her head. ¡°That didn¡¯t work so well for me last time.¡± There was a saying: once bit, twice shy. It summed up how she felt about things. Working with the triplets had been disastrous. She couldn¡¯t make that mistake again. ¡°Besides, Tish and I have got things under control.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, about that¡­¡±


    She frowned. Tish sounded hesitant, and she turned to face her, but rather than make eye contact, her cousin was looking at the floor as she clasped her hands behind her back, swaying nervously. She raised her eyebrow. ¡°Tish?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry. I know I was supposed to get the fairy whisker, but he changed the price on me, and I didn¡¯t know what to do¡­¡±


    Faith closed her eyes, exhaled loudly, and brought her palm to her forehead. Dang. What were they going to do now? She couldn¡¯t finish the spell without the whisker, and she had no idea where to get another. She couldn¡¯t even be upset with Tish. She should have been the one to go in the¡ª


    Nick interrupted her thoughts. ¡°Is that why you were with that demon?¡±


    She opened her eyes in time to see Tish nod. ¡°We needed a fairy whisker for the potion, and we¡ª


    ¡°Wait. You met up with a demon?¡±


    Again, Tish nodded.


    Well, no wonder he changed the price. Demons were notorious for changing the terms of the agreement ¨C that was why they insisted on contracts when making deals. Being infamous swindlers themselves, they always assumed others would do the same.


    ¡°Why go through a middleman in the first place?¡± Nick asked. ¡°Wouldn¡¯t it have been easier to go to the bazaar?¡±


    She turned to stare at Nick and found Tish doing the same. She was about to ask, but Tish beat her to it.


    ¡°What bazaar?¡±


    ¡°Uh, you know, the faerie marketplace? If you need a fairy whisker¡ªwouldn¡¯t they be dead cheap there?¡±


    There was a faerie marketplace? She and Tish glanced silently at one another, and she suspected that Tish was thinking the same. Why hadn¡¯t their family told them of this? Nick was looking between them curiously, while Nathan had disappeared somewhere in the back of the shop.


    Nick shrugged, a sly smile playing about his lips. ¡°I could take you there, but since you don¡¯t want my help¡­¡± He called to the back of the store. ¡°Hey, Nate. We should probably get going.¡± Nathan wasted no time in joining him at the front.


    Tish looked at her wide eyed and jerked her head in Nick¡¯s direction. Her look told her not to let him go. They needed his help. Tish knew it and so did she. Faith sighed and willfully closed her eyes. Being stubborn, however, wasn¡¯t going to get them what they needed. He got as far as the doorway when Tish hissed at her. ¡°Faith!¡±


    ¡°Wait.¡± She turned to face him.


    Nick hesitated, feinting confusion. ¡°Yes?¡±


    She glowered at him. Was he actually going to make her work for this? She dropped her shoulders in defeat. ¡°Could you please help us?¡± she mumbled.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, could you speak up?¡± He was trying not to smirk and failing miserably.


    A sound, something between a growl and a groan escaped her throat and he laughed. She glared at him. ¡°You are such a brat.¡±


    ¡°So I¡¯ve been told. And yes, Faith. I would be happy to help you. Thank you for asking.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m guessing we¡¯re no longer going?¡± Nathan was looking between them but addressing Nick.


    ¡°Nope.¡± He looked at Tish. ¡°Do you want to come with me to the bazaar?¡±


    Tish¡¯s face lit up excitedly and she clasped her hands together. ¡°I¡¯d love to.¡± She turned to Faith. ¡°Can I?¡±


    Faith smiled and shook her head. ¡°Like you said earlier, you¡¯re an adult. You don¡¯t need my permission.¡± She looked at Nick. ¡°You¡¯ll watch out for her?¡± It came out as more of a statement than a question, to which he nodded.


    ¡°Absolutely.¡± He held the door open for Tish who ran under his arm in her haste to get outside.


    Nate scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. ¡°And what about me?¡±


    Nick shrugged as he stepped outside to follow Tish. ¡°Sorry dude. The bike only seats two.¡± The door closed heavily behind him.


    Faith¡¯s eyes grew wide. ¡°Wait! Bike?¡± But it was too late, they were already gone.


    She looked to Nathan instead, who glanced back at her looking rather uncomfortable. He stretched awkwardly before reaching for the door handle. She narrowed her eyes. ¡°And just where do you think you¡¯re going?¡±


    ***


    Outside, Tish found that she had to hustle to keep up with Nick. She barely came up to his shoulder and had to take three steps to just keep up with his two. He was leading her across the street, towards the coffee shop. ¡°Are we stopping for coffee?¡± she asked surprised.


    ¡°Yes. But not to drink.¡± He held the door open for her, ushering her inside. There was a small line, and it was moving fast. Three baristas were working on concoctions behind a glass-faced counter housing an assortment of delectable looking treats.


    When it was his turn to order, Nick didn¡¯t order a drink. Nor did he order a pastry. Instead, he purchased a small bag of coffee beans. She thought it odd that he had stopped to shop before heading to the bazaar, but who was she to question him? Maybe he really needed coffee. She followed him back across the lot, through a number of tables that had been set up for patrons. It was cooler now, and but for a couple at a table by the street, all were empty. She came to a halt when he reached the street and stopped by a motorcycle. Turning, he offered her a helmet.


    The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.


    Her eyes widened. ¡°We¡¯re going on that?¡± She¡¯d never been on a bike before, and the idea made her nervous.


    ¡°Problem?¡± He was staring at her in earnest, eyebrow raised, and his intense look made the heat rise in her cheeks. Now that she actually had a chance to look at him, she found him rather handsome. She quickly broke their gaze, staring at the helmet instead.


    ¡°I guess not.¡± She said as he¡¯d climbed on the bike, wearing a helmet of his own. ¡°It¡¯s just that I¡¯ve never rode one before.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s okay, I¡¯ll go over the basics, and I promise we¡¯ll take it slow. My only real concern is that you¡¯re not wearing much in the way of protection.¡± He began showing her where to place her feet, and explaining how to hang on, by using her knees to hug the bike, as well as where she could hold on with her hands. ¡°Don¡¯t lean as we turn, instead just turn your head to look over my shoulder as we do. Otherwise keep your body straight and relax.¡± He showed her hand signals as well. A thumbs up meant she was feeling ok. A thumbs down meant she wasn¡¯t. And if she needed him to stop, she just had to tap him thrice on the shoulder or leg. His careful instruction made her feel a lot less nervous.


    She climbed on, initially deciding to use the grab handle, but as Nick inched forward and suddenly braked before pulling into the street, she found herself grabbing onto his hips instead. She wondered if he¡¯d made that little ¡°bump¡± on purpose.


    Looking back at her, he gave her a thumbs up. She nodded and copied the gesture, and then they were off.


    As promised, Nick had kept the trip short. He had taken them towards the freeway, but instead of continuing onto the highway, he had parked on the side of the road near the onramp.


    ¡°So, tell me. What do you see?¡±


    ¡°What do you mean? It¡¯s a freeway. An overpass¡­ I guess.¡± She eyed the traffic as it sped by them.


    ¡°Yeah, but more importantly¡­ it¡¯s a bridge.¡±


    ¡°A bridge?¡±


    ¡°C¡¯mon,¡± Nick reached out, took her by the hand and began leading her down the slope. There was a runoff canal beneath which was dry this time of year. ¡°Now, be careful that you don¡¯t fall for any of their mojo. The males are dumb as stumps, but the females can be quite cunning.¡±


    Nick stopped when they were beneath the shadow of the bridge.


    ¡°Come out. Show yourself.¡± He demanded.


    Moments later, a strange shadow appeared. As Tish watched, it slowly began to take shape and substance, until there was an exotic looking woman standing before them. She was wearing a flowing peasant¡¯s blouse and long layered skirt, with tiny bells that tinkled as she walked. Her skin held only the slightest hue of green; her eyes too, were a deep olive colour, and her hair, black as the darkest of nights, flowed down her back.


    She smiled happily when she saw Nick and approached him without hesitation.


    ¡°My, you are a handsome one.¡± Her voice was smooth and sultry. She reached up and grasped his chin as she inspected his face. ¡°You will come home with me.¡± She announced. ¡°You will serve me, and¡± she looked him over with a sudden gleam in her eye. ¡°You will make many babies with me.¡±


    She spotted Tish then as if for the first time and her eyes narrowed into sharp little slits. ¡°You there, go away!¡±


    ¡°Okay.¡± Tish replied obediently. Her body turned without hesitation, and she began marching away, while the trollop sauntered off in the opposite direction gently swinging her hips.


    Nick quickly reached back and snatched up Tish¡¯s hand before she could get too far. He waited for the trollop to realize that she wasn¡¯t being followed.


    Eventually, she looked over her shoulder at him, a curious expression on her face. ¡°What¡¯s wrong with you? Didn¡¯t you hear me?¡±


    Nick continued to stare at her, until she retraced her steps to stand before him. She looked deep into his eyes and realization slowly came to her.


    ¡°Damn. You¡¯re not human.¡±


    ¡°Sorry.¡±


    ¡°How very disappointing. I would have liked you as my concubine.¡± She sighed and wearily shook her head. ¡°Well then, what is it that you want?¡±


    ¡°Entry to the faerie bazaar.¡±


    ¡°Humph. And what will you give me if I open the way for you?¡± She was still eyeing Nick hungrily.


    ¡°What do you want?¡±


    She smirked at him suddenly, stepping even closer. ¡°Oh, I don¡¯t know¡­how about¡­ a kiss?¡±


    Nick was quick to respond. ¡°Not gonna happen, sister.¡±


    The trollop looked disappointed. She brightened suddenly. ¡°Well then. Would you undress for me?¡± she asked shamelessly.


    ¡°What?¡± Tish spoke for the first time, finding her voice.  It had taken a while, but she had finally snapped out of her daze. She shook her head. ¡°He¡¯s not going to¡ª¡±


    ¡°Agreed.¡±


    ¡°What? You can¡¯t take your clothes off?¡± She gaped at him.


    ¡°Why not?¡± Nick asked as he passed her his jacked and then stripped off his shirt, to the obvious delight of the trollop. He let it fall to the ground. ¡°I do it all the time.¡±


    Tish flushed a deep shade of pink, averted her eyes, and turned her back to him as he brazenly began to unbutton his jeans. She hugged the leather coat within her arms. Not again. Seriously? Twice in one day? What was wrong with this boy?


    Tish stood with her eyes closed, feeling the heat from her cheeks. There was a long pause before the trollop spoke again. ¡°That¡¯s not exactly what I had in mind.¡±


    Curious, Tish opened her eyes and ventured a peek. Nick was now sitting in wolf form and the trollop was staring at him with a disgruntled look on her face.


    ¡°Humph. Fine. A deal is a deal, but don¡¯t think I won¡¯t be watching out for you next time.¡±


    The trollop moved to the wall of the bridge and began an incantation in Trollish as she held up her hands and made a series of graceful gestures. Tish watched as the wall of the bridge began to ripple and wave before her eyes. Nearby shadows seemed to be pulled to the area, and soon there was a dark opening where none had been before.


    Niko stood, wagged his tail and headed into the doorway. Tish bent and quickly scooped up his shirt, sneakers, and jeans, glanced quickly around for more articles, before she turned and trotted after him. Once within the tunnel, she averted her gaze once more as she held out his clothes to him.


    ¡°I found your shirt and jeans, but I couldn¡¯t find your socks, or your¡­ ahh, underwear.¡± She hated the fact that she was blushing again.


    Nick took his clothes from her. ¡°Nah, you wouldn¡¯t¡± he agreed.


    ¡°Oh. OH!¡± Tish was now scarlet faced and staring intently at her sneakers.


    After a moment, Nick called out to her. ¡°You can look now. I promise its safe.¡±


    Tish glanced at him from the corner of her eye. Nick, now fully dressed, was grinning at her in amusement.


    ¡°C¡¯mon¡± He reached out and taking her hand, led her down the tunnel before them.


    ¡°So, that was a troll?¡±


    ¡°Yep.¡±


    ¡°Funny, I¡¯d never actually seen one before, but I thought that trolls were supposed to be ugly.¡±


    ¡°The males are often hideous.¡± Nick stated, agreeing with her. ¡°I mean, toss your cookies so, but the females, as you¡¯ve seen, can be quite bewitching.¡±


    The tunnel they were walking along was cool and only slightly damp. It had a clean earthy smell to it, was crescent-shaped and seemed to be carved out from the ground itself. The stone appeared old and worn, like it had stood forever. As if to punctuate this, she could see areas where repair to the tunnel had been made. There were some spots where entire sections had been replaced with modern-day brick and mortar. These areas stood out like scars against the rest of the wall, but it spoke to her that while the tunnel appeared to be old and abandoned, it had instead been carefully maintained.


    She followed beside Nick in silence but kept glancing up at him. A question kept tickling the corners of her mind and she found herself having to ask. ¡°So, uhm¡­ Nick?¡±


    ¡°Hmm?¡±


    ¡°I was wondering why you didn¡¯t¡­ I mean, wouldn¡¯t it have been simpler just to have kissed her?¡±


    He gave her a sidelong glance as they walked. ¡°Don¡¯t ever kiss a troll,¡± he warned her. ¡°To kiss a troll, is to kiss away your free will. I¡¯d have been under her control the same way you¡¯d been.¡±


    ¡°Oh, I see.¡± A chill passed through her as she recalled how creepy it had felt. How she had lost control over her body. It had only been for a short moment, but she had wanted to do whatever it was that the troll had bid her.


    ¡°So how was it, that she was unable to control you, the way she did me?¡±


    ¡°Well, for one thing, I knew what to expect. Even then, she was still very strong. I probably shouldn¡¯t have let her touch me.¡±


    She watched his face as he spoke. He was so genuine and unguarded in his responses. Was this perhaps, why she felt so comfortable being with him? Except for the times he got naked of course¡­


    ¡°I have to admit though. I wanted nothing more than to go home with her.¡±


    She stopped short, forcing him to do the same.


    ¡°Really?¡±


    He laughed. ¡°Oh, yeah. Her pull was strong. You¡¯d be surprised to learn how many men considered missing, have ended up as the concubine of a trollop. Ended up wasting their lives away in a stupor, until they become so old that she no longer has need of them, or until they¡¯re replaced by a younger more desirable candidate.¡±


    Nick began walking again, forcing her once more to follow.


    ¡°But why? Why would she do such a thing?¡±


    ¡°Well, I guess I can think of a few reasons. Protection, for one¡­ companionship¡­ breeding.¡±


    ¡°Breeding?¡±


    ¡°Oh, you¡¯d be amazed at how many mixed-race children grow up unperceived among the human population.¡±


    She thought that he must be kidding, yet his face still held that naked openness. ¡°But how could that be?¡±


    ¡°Easy. Some are adopted by unknowing couples. A lot are changelings, often swapped at birth or sent home in place of still-born infants. From what you saw of her, she looked rather human; was quite beautiful in fact. Factor in some human DNA, and you¡¯d be hard pressed to tell the difference. From what I¡¯ve heard, most of them grow up not even knowing they¡¯re half-troll. Oftentimes, they just feel different¡­ like they don¡¯t quite fit in, but they just can¡¯t rationalize why they feel that way.¡±


    ¡°But why would they do that? Just give their children away like that?¡±


    ¡°Oh, well¡­ I think it¡¯s all part of a master plan to one day usurp the human race and secretly take over the world.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± Tish stopped in her tracks, shocked, until she looked up at him. Nick was grinning mischievously. ¡°Oh, you are such a liar,¡± she giggled. ¡°And a bad one at that.¡±


    ¡°Actually, I have quite a good poker face when I need it. But seriously though, doesn¡¯t every mother simply want what¡¯s best for her child? Passing as human opens up, well¡­ not only a world of possibilities¡­ but a whole new world for them.¡±


    They had come to the end of the tunnel as they stepped out into bright sunlight. Where before the sky had been overcast and grey, it was now the brightest of blue with a scattering of fluffy white clouds. The air was warm and sweet with the fragrance of flowers and spice.


    The pathway they walked was made of an intricately laid pattern of brickwork and Tish found herself thinking whimsically of the wizard of oz. Before long, they came to a crossroads, where a large old-fashioned signpost made of wood ¨C like something she might see in a video game or an old-western town ¨C and glowing with magical light, directed them to the different boroughs which surrounded the marketplace. In the direction they were headed was the marketplace and Faerie district. To the left lay the road to the Elven quarter and to the right, the Dwarven enclave. She realized with a bit of whimsy that the direction they had just come from had been labeled the Human realm.


    Following the road, they soon entered a bustling marketplace where the street was lined on either side with brightly coloured tents, canopy-adorned stalls, and rustic umbrella-clad booths, each containing a wide variety of wares. There were tents full of colourful fabrics, brightly woven rugs, and a wide assortment of glittery, sparkling textiles. There were stalls filled with spices, herbs and fruit, and booths which sold all matter of drink and food. The air was rife with the smell of cooking as she passed vendors who prepared hearty looking stews, sweet smelling porridge and spicy rice dishes right on the street. It made her stomach growl in earnest as she realized it had been quite some time since breakfast.


    She found herself looking longingly as she passed stall after stall, each seemingly brighter and fresher and more aromatic than the last. When she finally reached the end of the aisle of food vendors she looked up and realized that Nick was nowhere to be found.


    Had he abandoned her while she¡¯d had her head in the clouds?  An uneasy feeling was creeping up her spine. Her heart began to race. How ever would she get home?

 SIXTEEN

    SIXTEEN


    ¡°Are you¡­hiding?¡± Tish asked in disbelief when she finally spotted Nick amongst the wares of a textiles merchant.


    She had been browsing the marketplace, taking her sweet time as she had come to the end of the food stalls that had kept her grumbly stomach so enthralled, only to look up and realized that Nick was no longer ahead of her leading the way. For a moment, panic overtook her as she looked frantically about for her absent guide. She ran ahead through the throng of shoppers that overfilled the marketplace in a chaotic blend of colour and sound until she emerged into an open plaza. In the centre stood a large signpost, glowing with magical energy, almost identical to the one she had seen just before entering the market. From this central point, alleyways ¨C including the one she had just emerged from ¨C led off in several directions. Not only were the ways to the realms of Faerie, Dwarf, Elf, and Human pointed out, but additional signs now pointed to Mermaids Bay and Dryads Grove, among others.


    Since they had been headed towards the Faerie District, she continued on in that direction, searching for Nick and wishing she were a lot taller. The shoppers here were unusually shaped as humans went and seemed either unusually tall and exceptionally thin, or short of stature but broad of shoulder. One such individual she¡¯d noted was a combination of both, being twelve feet tall and easily her height across the shoulders, and instead of hair, she was pretty sure that it was leaves that peeked out from under his worn hat. In any case it made it hard to see either above or around them in her search for Nick.


    She had to concede that this wasn¡¯t working. Turning around, she headed back to the square. Perhaps if she could get to higher ground¡­


    The signpost which marked the way was raised on a stone pedestal. She crossed to it and examined the stonework. The base was the largest stone. Two more sat on top like smaller steps until it reached a pillar which the squared-wood of the signpost was embedded into. It would only grant her a couple feet¡¯s vantage, but if she could just see over the heads of the people in the crowd it¡¯d be worth the effort.


    She climbed up on the large stones, and then to the pedestal, using the rough post of the sign for support. From here, she could see over the expanse of the square, and even a bit into each of the alley¡¯s that led off from here.


    Perhaps Nick hadn¡¯t gotten as far ahead of her as she¡¯d thought. She turned her attention back the way she¡¯d come, leaning off from the post in the direction she was searching, free hand raised above her brow to block out the sun. Now if she could only spot mister tall, dark, and obnoxious somewhere in the crowd.


    She finally did see him; not in the crowd, but within the entry way of one of the tents. She sighed in relief as she climbed down. The tent was situated on the corner between the aisle leading towards the Human Realm and the large market square. In truth he hadn¡¯t gotten too far ahead. It had been the colourful displays of fabric which had initially caught her attention. A slight movement behind the displayed fabric had led her to notice Nick.


    Bolts of colourful fabric lay out in thick layers upon tables and hung flowingly from the top of the tent. Nick had moved to the front corner of the pavilion where he was almost invisible amongst the sea of hanging fabrics.


    She slugged him on the shoulder in greeting. ¡°You jerk. Why did you leave me?¡±


    ¡°Shh.¡± He said as he grabbed her suddenly and pulled her small frame behind him. ¡°It wasn¡¯t on purpose. How was I supposed to know you were lagging behind.¡±


    She regarded him suspiciously as he peered out into the crowd. ¡°Wait. Are you¡­ hiding? What are you hiding from?¡± She peered out at the crowded street from behind him. She could see nothing but the throng of shoppers as they squeezed past one another through the tightly wound maze of booths and tents.


    ¡°I spotted a couple of Thorne¡¯s goons.¡± He said as if that explained everything. ¡°And where there are goons, there¡¯s most likely to be Thorne. He rarely goes out unaccompanied.¡±


    ¡°Who¡¯s this Thorne?¡± Tish asked intrigued.


    Nick seemed to be focused on a pair of tall thin gentlemen dressed in black on the other side of the crowd.


    ¡°Kai¡¯lan Raven Thorne, leader of the br¨¢ithreachas. He¡¯s had it in for me ever since I beat him at a few hands of poker¡ªthat, and I may have slept with his sisters.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s the brai-their-haus?¡± Tish asked, sure that she had mangled the pronunciation.


    Nick glanced at her; eyebrows raised. ¡°Not bad,¡± he said, sounding surprised, but clearly pleased. ¡°The brotherhood is an elven crime ring, you know, like the Yakuza or the Mafia.¡±


    She thought about this. ¡°Wait, are you saying that there¡¯s an actual elven crime syndicate?¡± She glanced up at Nick¡¯s face, to see if he was teasing her again, but he was once again focused on the figures across the market. ¡°Is there really such a thing?¡±


    ¡°Yup, and Thorne runs the magical black market from here in the Elven Quarter. In fact, very little goes on in Kingsford that he doesn¡¯t have a hand in, in some way or another.¡±


    Tish frowned thoughtfully as she took it all in. She looked up in realization. ¡°Wait, so you¡¯re telling me that this guy is the equivalent of a crime lord¡ªbut with magic¡ªand you slept with his sister? Why would you do such a thing?¡±


    ¡°Sisters. Plural. Twins, and the only reason he¡¯s pissed, is because he probably would have liked the chance to join in. He¡¯s a complete narcissist and a bit of a perv, which is why I need to avoid him.¡±


    Tish wrinkled her nose in disgust. ¡°Ugh. With his own sisters?¡±


    ¡°Ah, well¡­ the Raven-Thornes are a blended family, so they aren¡¯t blood related. They were two opposing crime families who used marriage to combine their power, eliminate the competition, and expand their territories. His father, their mother, it was strictly a business arrangement. I¡¯m surprised you haven¡¯t heard of them; their wedding, it was the talk of the town fifty years ago.¡±


    Fifty years? Just how old did he think she was? Wait. How old was he? Or was this perhaps something that she was just supposed to have been aware of, like the two world wars.


    ¡°And why would I do such a thing, well¡­ they are gorgeous,¡± Nick smiled gently as he reminisced. ¡°They¡¯re both tall and slender, with hair like silk and eyes like silvery moonlight¡­¡±


    Tish watched his face as he spoke, feeling both jealous and self-conscious. No one would ever describe her with such flowery admiration. She was clunky and petite, with curls the colour of bleached carrots and a splash of freckles across her nose.


    ¡°Yeah, okay. I guess I get why you¡¯d be interested.¡±


    Nick¡¯s eyes widened as he glanced at her, and she realized that there¡¯d been a note in her voice that she¡¯d failed to hide. It perhaps hinted at her feelings of inadequacy. Quickly Tish attempted a cover-up. ¡°Still, twins? What were you thinking?¡±


    You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.


    ¡°Truthfully?¡±


    She nodded.


    He sighed. ¡°I wasn¡¯t exactly in my right mind at the time. It was Mabon, and I¡¯d been celebrating, so when one of the sisters offered me a drink, I stupidly accepted. I woke up tied to the bedposts.¡± He suddenly looked thoughtful. ¡°Which reminds me, maybe don¡¯t eat the food while you¡¯re here¡­ faerie food can leave you witless or worse.¡±


    She gaped at him. ¡°They abducted you? But that¡¯s against¡ª¡±


    ¡°Elven crime family, remember. Just who was I complaining to? Besides, they let me go a few days later, and the Elven race view the practice of sex a lot differently than you humans. Think of them as the hippies of the magical world ¨C free love and all that. In fact, now that I think about it¡­¡± His brow crinkled as he considered. ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure it was the elves who started that fad.¡±


    He shook his head. ¡°But getting back to Kai. The real reason he¡¯s mad is the poker game. He accused me of cheating and got me banned from the game.¡±


    ¡°Well, did you?¡± She glanced at him eyebrow raised suspiciously, happy to be once more off the subject of sex. ¡°Cheat?¡± It was true that she had only just met him, but he did seem to have a mischievous side to him. He seemed cocky enough to believe that he might just get away with something like that.


    Nick glanced down at her with a slight smirk. ¡°Not in the direct sense of the word.¡±


    ¡°But¡­¡± she urged, sensing more.


    He shrugged. ¡°I can¡¯t help it if my wolf can read the players like an open book. It¡¯s not like I¡¯m marking cards or anything.¡±


    ¡°An open book huh?¡± She smiled, thinking perhaps he was exaggerating. He did seem to be blatantly pleased with himself most of the time. He was his own biggest fan.


    ¡°They might as well have had subtitles over their heads as they placed their bets.¡± He looked at her thoughtfully. ¡°Like comic-book thought bubbles.¡±


    Tish was startled. He didn¡¯t seem to be joking. ¡°You could read their minds?¡±


    He shook his head. ¡°No. Not read their minds. It¡¯s more like I can feel their intentions. It¡¯s a wolf thing. I can sense the energy they give off, know when they are lying or telling the truth.¡±


    Nick came out from the curtain of fabric he was hiding behind. ¡°They¡¯ve finally moved on. I think we may be safe.¡± He held out his hand to her, indicating that she should join him as he stepped out from the tent.


    ¡°Is he really that dangerous?¡± Tish asked with concern as she took up his hand.


    ¡°Well, that depends.¡±


    ¡°On what?¡±


    ¡°On the extent of his anger. Kai doesn¡¯t like to look bad, especially in front of the sorts that were sitting in at that game. He feels I made him lose face. He¡¯ll want a chance to redeem himself¡ªat my expense, of course.¡±


    Once more they were weaving their way, hand in hand this time so they wouldn¡¯t lose one another amongst the throng of shoppers. Tish was enjoying herself. The air was warm and sweetly fragrant, and the bright sun overhead felt good on her skin. There wouldn¡¯t be too many warm days like this left. It was already October and fall was rapidly descending. She glanced up at Nick as they went. It was nice to be walking with him. He was such an easy person to be with. He made her feel comfortable and safe.


    ¡°If I¡¯m lucky, I¡¯ll walk away with just a beating.¡± Nick continued.


    ¡°And if you¡¯re unlucky?¡±


    Nick grimaced. ¡°I¡¯d rather not run into him and find out¡ªlike I said, narcissist and perv. He might insist upon a favor, and he is the last elf I want to find myself indebted to. He can be a bit of a collector.¡±


    ¡°A collector? What do you mean¡ª¡±


    ¡°You know how rich and powerful people sometimes collect exotic or fancy things? Like sports cars or Faberge eggs? Well, Kai collects people, and he has an unhealthy fascination with my wolf. I¡¯d rather not find myself with a chain around my neck and a place at his side if I can help it. So, I¡¯m planning to keep my distance from him until he cools down, so the faster we can get what we¡¯ve come for and get out, the better.¡± He glanced down at her then. ¡°For the both of us.¡±


    ¡°Wait,¡± Tish came to a sudden halt. ¡°The both of us?¡±


    ¡°Well, you are with me.¡± He looked her up and down scrutinizing her. ¡°Incidentally, if we do get stopped by Kai or his goons, try to act innocent. Don¡¯t let him know you¡¯re a witch¡ªpretend to be human. Be boring, and he may just leave you alone.¡± He reached out suddenly and tapped her on the tip of her nose. ¡°And try not to be so damn cute, either.¡±


    Tish felt the blood rush to her cheeks and was glad when Nick once more started walking. His gaze was intense, and she wasn¡¯t used to being fawned over. That sort of attention was usually reserved for Faith.


    Wait. Act innocent? The meaning in his words finally caught up to her.


    ¡°Hey!¡± She said suddenly, racing to catch up to him. ¡°I am innocent. I wasn¡¯t a part of any of this.¡±


    Nick shrugged. ¡°He won¡¯t care. If he thinks you¡¯re with me, that¡¯ll be enough.¡± He stopped outside a beautiful market stand that was brightly framed by flowers and basket upon basket of brightly coloured spices. ¡°Let¡¯s check here,¡± he said as he disappeared within the darkened tent.


    Tish followed but was feeling uneasy. She didn¡¯t like the idea of being the potential target of some elven godfather. Not only were elves known to be strong with magic; they were the soldiers of the faerie world, expertly trained in both long and short-range combat. If this Kai¡¯lan was as unscrupulous a kingpin as Nick suggested, the idea that he would have interest in her as well, made her queasy just thinking about it.


    She glanced back at the entranceway, her eyes darting across the crowd, looking for the figures in black. Nick had moved to speak to the shop clerk, a thin man in a blousy flowing shirt and tailored pants. His hair was light blond, long and done up along the top in a series of small tight braids. If it wasn¡¯t for the slight point at the tip of his ears, one would hardly guess that he wasn¡¯t human.


    Tish moved to join them, all the while looking over her shoulder as she did. As she reached the two who were standing by a make-shift counter: a few empty crates stacked upon one another, she was just in time to see the store clerk shake his head apologetically.


    ¡°Thanks for your help,¡± she heard Nick say before he stepped back, bumping into her and setting her off balance. Tish gave out a little squeal before Nick reached out and caught hold of her, pulling her in close.


    ¡°Are you okay?¡± he asked as he looked down at her.


    For a moment, she found herself pressed up tight against him, his arms gently encircling her. She marveled at the heat coming from him. It would be easy, she thought, to disappear into this warmth. Quickly, she pulled herself free.


    ¡°Wolf!¡± A booming voice cut through the crowd as a tall and slim figure soon appeared. Seeming oblivious to the concept of personal space, he got right up into Nick¡¯s face, so much so that Nick had to take a step back. ¡°What have I told you about showing your face around here?¡±


    Tish too, took a step away from the two men who were now standing chest to chest. The new man was easily as tall as Nick, with long dark tresses falling bone straight down his back. He had an angular face with pronounced cheek bones and a sharp chin. His eyes were a piercing grey-blue and locked on Nick¡¯s with a hawk like intensity.


    ¡°Ah, but Kai,¡± Nick glanced at Tish and winked knowingly. ¡°My face is my best feature.¡± He flashed Kai a smug grin.


    Kai shook his head bemused. ¡°Always with the mouth.¡±


    ¡°Hello, Frost.¡± Nick soon called out to a second man who came to stand beside Kai. He was slim and tall like the first elf, but that was where their similarities ended. Unlike Kai, this new elf¡¯s hair was pure white and hung just past his shoulders. Instead of black, he was dressed completely in white. His violet eyes, which seemed aglow with a magical intensity, glanced between Nick and her with a face void of emotion.


    ¡°Hello, Niko.¡± Frost politely replied. His voice had a pleasant lilt to it. ¡°What brings you to market?¡±


    ¡°Faerie whiskers. Seems I¡¯m completely out.¡±


    Frost looked to the sky then in a contemplative fashion, and Tish wondered what it was that he saw with those remarkable eyes. He scratched the underside of his chin as he seemed to consider things. ¡°I suppose I could lend you a few If you¡¯d care to drop by.¡±


    Kai snorted. ¡°You really don¡¯t think we¡¯re giving him a choice?¡± He frowned as he glanced between the two, as a second pair of black-clad figures soon joined the group to stand silently behind Kai.


    ¡°It should please you to know that I brought beans.¡± Nick reached into his jacket and pulled out the small bag.


    ¡°Stop ignoring me.¡± Kai¡¯s brow had somehow managed to furrow even deeper than before.


    For the first time, Frost appeared mildly interested. ¡°Really? From the human world?¡±


    Nick passed him the bag. ¡°Yep. Just for you.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m touched.¡± Frost tilted his head slightly as he regarded Nick. He brought his hand to his breast. ¡°Honestly, you are too kind.¡±


    ¡°Seriously, Wolf. You should be on your knees and begging for mercy right about now.¡± Kai now appeared to be speaking through clenched teeth.


    Nick smiled politely at Frost and shook his head. ¡°Anything for a friend. Shall we off then?¡± He turned to Tish and reached for her hand.


    ¡°I am warning you both¡ª¡±


    ¡°Yes. I think it time. The wind is beginning to sound rather blustery; don¡¯t you think?¡± Frost turned and began walking through the crowd. Bystanders stepped widely aside as he approached.


    ¡°Indeed. It is practically howling.¡± Nick said as he fell in step behind him with Tish at his side.


    ¡°I hate you both.¡± Kai remarked loudly, shoulders drooping as he reluctantly followed.

 SEVENTEEN

    SEVENTEEN


    Hand in hand, Tish walked alongside Nick a dozen questions forming in her mind. ¡°So that¡¯s the infamous Kai?¡± She whispered, glancing up at Nick as she did.


    ¡°Indeed.¡± He glanced at her briefly before quietly cautioning her. ¡°You should be aware that their fabulously quirky ears, though not quite as good as my own, don¡¯t miss much. In other words¡ª¡±


    ¡°In other words, mind my manners?¡±


    ¡°I couldn¡¯t have said it better.¡±


    ¡°So, this Frost fellow. He doesn¡¯t seem half bad.¡±


    Nick nodded in agreement. ¡°Yes. I rather like Frost. Remember what I said about Kai¡¯s habit of collecting things?¡±


    ¡°Uh-huh.¡±


    ¡°Well, let¡¯s just say that Frost is the pinnacle of said collection. To put it another way, he¡¯s his right-hand-man, his iron fist. Frost is the true power that Kai wields. The reason why few choose to cross him.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s that strong?¡±


    ¡°Oh, yes. I kid you not. Frost; he¡¯s a walking nuke.¡±


    Tish thought about that. ¡°So, I imagine you do your best to stay on his good side.¡± She arched an eyebrow at him.


    ¡°Absolutely.¡±


    ¡°And that explains the beans?¡± She grinned at him.


    He shook his head. ¡°Not entirely. Like I said, I genuinely like Frost and he has recently discovered coffee. I¡¯ve been bringing him a different blend and roast each time I visit. He¡¯s trying to decide what he likes best.¡±


    Tish wrinkled her nose. ¡°They don¡¯t serve coffee in the fairy world?¡±


    ¡°Nope. The only beans that grow here are the magical kind. Good for spell work. Terrible for brewing.¡±


    She frowned up at him. ¡°Be serious.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m being completely serious.¡±


    ¡°And you¡¯re not trying to stay on his good side by bribing him with beans?¡±


    ¡°Not at all. I don¡¯t think I¡¯ve ever been on his bad side. Thankfully, unlike Kai, Frost is as chill as his name.¡± Nick scratched his chin as he considered. ¡°In fact, I don¡¯t think I¡¯ve ever seen Frost get riled.¡±


    ¡°Pray that you don¡¯t.¡± Kai stepped between them, forcing them to drop hands as he placed an arm around each of their shoulders. He peered down at Tish with mild interest. ¡°You haven¡¯t introduced me to your human friend, wolf.¡±


    Nick frowned at him. ¡°You¡¯re assuming that she¡¯s interested in meeting you.¡± He stretched nonchalantly as they came to a stop and in doing so, knocked Kai¡¯s arm not so discreetly from his body. Ahead of them, Frost had stopped to peruse the wares of a market stall. ¡°I was hoping to save her from such an unfortunate event.¡±


    Kai smirked at Nick. ¡°Is making my acquaintance really such a regrettable occurrence?¡±


    Nick shrugged. ¡°I can¡¯t speak for others, but I still rue the day.¡±


    Frost chuckled as he turned towards them with a small sack in hand. He tossed it to Nick. ¡°Here, with my thanks.¡±


    Nick peered into the sack. ¡°Apples?¡±


    ¡°Dryadian sweet apples. Hard to come by in your world, I¡¯d wager.¡±


    ¡°I love apples.¡± Nick said with a grin.


    Frost smiled. Violet eyes sparkling. ¡°I know.¡±


    ¡°Dryadian apples?¡± Tish asked Frost as she peered into the bag. The apples were yellow and streaked with red. ¡°I¡¯ve never heard of them.¡±


    Frost considered her with growing interest. ¡°That is not unexpected. They are rare at times even within the faerie realm. They grow on the dryad youth in the time between seedling and adult, and at that age, their personalities are sometimes quite unpredictable. They¡¯re just as likely to let their fruit fall to the ground and rot, as they are to take it to market.¡±


    Tish¡¯s eyes widened. ¡°This fell off somebody?¡± She had pulled out an apple to examine it further.


    ¡°A dryad sapling, to be more precise.¡± Kai offered as he watched her examine the fruit.


    ¡°Many thanks, Frost.¡± Nick said, as Frost bowed slightly in response. He turned to Tish then. ¡°Shall we try one?¡±


    She nodded as he removed some fruit from the bag before passing one to Frost. ¡°I trust you¡¯ll join me?¡±


    Frost nodded as he accepted the fruit.


    Nick then frowned at Kai, before chucking an apple in his direction. ¡°Enjoy, I guess.¡±


    Frost chuckled once more as Kai caught the fruit with a bemused expression.


    Tish looked between the three men, grinning. Was it just her? Or had Nick¡¯s manners greatly improved while dealing with Frost? It really did seem like Frost brought out his best behaviour.


    She rubbed the apple against her sleeve before taking a generous bite. A delightful flavour immediately descended upon her tongue. In truth, she had never tasted anything quite like it. The texture of the fruit was firm and crisp. It was perfectly sweet and at the same time, tangy as well. There was even a delightful hint of sour as she finished the bite. It was not at all acidic or over-powering, and it left the palate longing for more.


    She was about to take a second bite, when Nick suddenly dropped to his knees, his face a mask of pain. The apple he¡¯d held rolled to the ground as he brought his hands up to his head. Before Tish could move towards him, Frost and Kai dropped to the ground in a similar fashion.


    For the slightest of moments, she thought it had something to do with the fruit, until she realized that Nick¡¯s apple that had finally rolled to a stop at her feet, had yet to be bitten.


    As she rushed to his side, Tish realized with an overwhelming dread that their group was not alone in their plight. Around her, persons all over the marketplace were dropping just like her companions had.


    ¡°Are you hurt?¡± She loomed over him as he clutched his head. ¡°Please, tell me what¡¯s going on? You¡¯re scaring me. Nick, please, what¡¯s happening?¡± She tried to pry his hands away from his head, to force him to acknowledge her.


    When he finally raised his head to look up at her, she took an unexpected step back. ¡°Nick, your eyes¡­ they¡¯re bleeding!¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t you hear it?¡± Tears of blood were weeping down his cheeks.


    ¡°Hear what?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s outside her range of hearing, wolf. She¡¯s been spared.¡±


    ¡°My head¡­ ¡­feels¡­ like it¡¯s about to explode.¡±


    He fell forward to the ground, eyes closed, face falling slack, hands dropping from his ears. She dropped to her knees, to cradle his head in her lap and as she did, Tish could now see that blood had trickled down his neck; his ears had been bleeding as well.


    Behind her a crack of thunder forced her to turn her head. It sounded like a gunshot had gone off directly behind her. Only a few yards away, a swirling mass of blackness was beginning to form. The wind picked up, blowing her hair about her in a wild cyclone of heated air. Lightning sparked, thunder snapped, and the darkness grew. Soon it was the size of a car, moments later it was the size of a bulldozer. That was when she realized that there was something lurking within that darkness. Something that was coming her way.


    She glanced to Frost and Kai. Frost was prone, unconscious like Nick, but Kai was rising to his feet and unsheathing a sword as he did. Behind him, an elf in black was following his lead.


    ¡°Is this a normal occurrence in the faerie world?¡± She¡¯d yelled, just as the wind settled down and she no longer had to scream to be heard.


    ¡°Decidedly not.¡± Kai was taking up a stance a few feet ahead of her, his attention focused on the blackness that had formed. The second elf now stood tense and ready at his side.


    The first thing that emerged from the vortex was a hulking figure. It was easily twelve feet in height and the width of a car. It looked to be chiselled from stone, was the colour of a sandy beach with a gaping hole for a mouth, nothing at all to resemble a nose and two glowing cavities as eyes. As it stepped out, a half-dozen hooded figures followed. They wore nondescript, black jackets and dark trousers. Their faces were obscured by either dark paint or masks from beneath their lowered hoods.


    What was immediately apparent was that these darkly dressed figures were proficient with magic as they began firing balls of energy, some fire, some blue and sparking with electricity towards the ground around them.


    People began running, fleeing the area, and the laneway they¡¯d been traversing soon became barren. Everyone had run for cover, like the extras in a cowboy film when the gun slingers arrived.


    Another hooded figure had a weapon which it used to herd the stone giant. Sparks of electricity flashed between the prongs on its end, and the creature howled ¨C a gravely sound ¨C sounding in pain as it stomped forward.


    Tish looked up as the beast came stomping in her direction. There was little she could do. She wouldn¡¯t leave Nick who was helpless to defend himself and there was no way she could drag him to safety because he was easily twice her size.


    Before the beast could reach her however, Kai and his Elven warrior stepped in front of her, swords drawn.


    ¡°Back Beast. Back to your nether realm or I¡¯ll dispatch you to hell myself.¡±  Kai and his colleague charged, side by side before crossing one another¡¯s paths and striking the beast from opposite sides. Their slashing swords, however, did little but anger the giant which flailed its large arms wide. Kai managed to dodge, but his companion was struck and sent hurling through the air as easily as if he had been a helpless kitten.


    Kai¡¯s attack had not gone unnoticed as the hooded figures now turned their attention towards him, firing their magical attacks from multiple directions at once. Kai now had his hands full with deflecting the barrage with his sword. Like a player up at bat, Kai redirected the blasts, volleying them back with an uncanny accuracy towards where they¡¯d come.


    Two more hooded figures turned their attention towards Kai, and they began advancing, coming together and firing towards him as one while the central most figure manifested a shield. Step by step, Kai was forced back and as he was pushed aside, the stone figure was once again free to advance.


    Three giant steps forward and it was now hovering over Tish. Still crouching she refused to leave Nick¡¯s side, when its enormous hand reached down to grab a hold of her.


    Tish shrieked as she felt herself being lifted as if weightless into the air. Her sneakers touched ground and she immediately dug in her heels as she pulled back against the giant. Its enormous hand covered her arm from wrist to elbow and her digging heels did little to cease her forward momentum. She was being dragged step by step towards the hulking darkness of the portal.


    She dropped her weight, going legless in her attempt to slow her advance. Feet splayed out in front of her as she tried to find purchase in the stone walkway. At one point she found a dip in the pathway where a missing brick or stone had come free, and she planted her feet in the crevasse as a last-ditch attempt to free herself.


    She tried to pry its enormous fingers free with her opposite hand, her mind frantic for a spell that might help her succeed. Casting magic on the fly wasn¡¯t ingrained. She was still in school, but she attempted to clear her mind and focus on the sausage-like fingers that grabbed her.


    ¡°Let go,¡± she ordered. ¡°Dimittis, dimittis!¡±


    In a turn of events, the fingers wrapped across her hands sprung up in release and she immediately lost her balance, flopping to the ground. The giant¡¯s hand had been the only thing supporting her weight and keeping her upright.


    The giant had continued a few steps further before it stopped and raised its now open and empty hand up in front of its face before turning around to regard her. It was almost comical in a Scooby-doo villain sort of way. ¡°Ruh-roh,¡± she exclaimed as its glowing eyes finally settled on her.


    She immediately began backpedaling, pushing herself across the cobbled pavement as the stone giant began to stomp towards her once more.


    ¡°Aero ferus,¡± She held her hands out in front of her as a blast of wind erupted from her palms with the strength of a storm. Her spell hit the stone giant square in the chest and it was lifted off its feet and flung back towards the dark portal.


    ¡°Think you can do that again?¡±


    She looked up to find Nick at her side, his hand in a fist, his gaze focused on the giant.


    ¡°I can try.¡± It had taken a lot of her energy, but she thought she might have one more strike left. Glancing around she could see that the other two black-clad Elves had joined Kai and the three of them were keeping the hooded figures occupied, while Frost standing a few feet behind Nick was busy conjuring. Strands of brightly coloured lights were being stretched and molded like silly putty between his hands as he concentrated.


    ¡°Try to knock him in front of that portal. We¡¯re going to send it back from wherever it came.¡± He looked past her towards Frost. ¡°You ready?¡±


    Frost, who seemed to be mumbling as he wove his spell nodded briefly. His violet eyes were ablaze in a purple fire of their own. He was mesmerizing, and she had to force herself to concentrate on the task she¡¯d been given.


    She got to her feet and grounded herself, her stance wide, arms out in front of her chest as she began to focus her will into the spell.  She closed her eyes. ¡°Wild winds, wild winds, wild winds,¡± she whispered before opening her eyes and announcing once more ¡°Aero ferus!¡±


    Once more the giant was knocked back by the force of the wind she¡¯d unleashed. As it stumbled back, Nick charged forward to intercept and slammed his body into the giant. He crashed into it with his shoulder knocking it further off balance.


    It teetered momentarily in front of the portal, arms flailing in circles as it attempted to catch its balance when Nick took a few steps back before hurling himself at it again. His feet left the ground as he struck it and the stone beast succumbed to the force of the blow as it staggered backwards into the gaping hole.


    Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    Seeing their giant bested, the hooded figures began fleeing towards the portal as Frost flung a swirling ball of energy towards it. The blast began to spread out like an angry storm cloud, sparks of lightning erupting from its swirling mass. Kai and his men ceased their assault as the portal began to shrink, the magic holding it open rapidly diminished by the strength of Frost¡¯s spell.


    The last hooded figure was stepping through when the portal snapped closed like a giant maw and severed his body in half. The part that hadn¡¯t made it through; his left shoulder and arm, part of a torso and one leg flopped to the ground, arteries spraying, blood painting the ground in a gruesome portrait of death.


    Tish dropped to her knees and covered her face with her hand. ¡°Oh, no. Oh, no. Oh, my Goddess! What did we do?¡±


    ¡°Nothing that didn¡¯t need to be done, Child.¡± Kai said as he reached down and took her hand in his own. He hauled her to her feet, arm wrapping around her shoulder as he did. ¡°There are costs to playing with magic. This one here, paid with his life.¡±


    As he spoke, Kai¡¯s men were already dealing with the body as one removed his jacket and covered the unfortunate remains.


    ¡°It¡¯s safe to look now, Child.¡±


    Tish took a peek and seeing that the body was now covered, relaxed within Kai¡¯s embrace. Looking around she spotted Nick on the ground. Frost was kneeling over him and seemed to be examining him.


    ¡°How bad is it, Frost?¡±


    Frost shook his head. ¡°Nothing that can¡¯t be mended.¡±


    Seeing Nick, Tish pulled free from Kai¡¯s grasp. ¡°Nick.¡± She called out as she raced towards him. She reached out to touch him but stopped short as Frost shook his head. ¡°Oh, Goddess. What happened?¡±


    ¡°Clavicle is shattered. Upper arm too.¡± Frost said as she dropped down at his side. Nick was hugging his injured limb to his chest, using his opposite arm to keep it in place. His face was ash white, and his teeth were gnashed together in a grimace of pain. When Frost reached his hand up under his jacket to inspect him further, a low moan passed his lips. ¡°A couple of ribs too, bruised if not broken.¡±


    ¡°Well, I suppose that¡¯s to be expected when one runs full force into a stone wall.¡± Kai¡¯s voice was quite close, and she looked up to see him standing over them. He seemed hardly concerned by Nick¡¯s predicament. ¡°What do you need?¡± He asked looking between them.


    ¡°Fabric.¡± Frost replied as he pulled his hands from Nick. ¡°Something to bind him before he¡¯s moved.¡±


    Kai walked over to the nearest tent and with a slash from his sword, removed a large piece of canvas. He brought the material back to Frost to drop it at his side. ¡°Will this suffice?¡±


    ¡°Excellent,¡± Frost replied as he began tearing the length into strips. Tish watched as he made a makeshift sling, before binding Nick¡¯s arm tightly against his chest. This allowed Nick a free arm, which Frost slipped over his own shoulder as he lifted him gently to his feet. Although Frost was slight of build when compared to Nick¡¯s girth, the elf seemed to have little problem hoisting him upright. It indicated a strength far greater than his slender form suggested.


    ¡°Come, Niko. Let¡¯s get you to my infirmary, where I can set these bones.¡±


    Nick scarcely managed a nod as he lumbered along at Frost¡¯s side. All of his strength it seemed was committed to keeping himself upright.


    A tall archway marked the entrance to the Elven district. Here whimsical buildings rose up on all sides. The architecture was marked by graceful arches, intricate knotwork and massive support pillars. The rooftops were multi-peaked, the corners upturned. Crooked chimneys puffed colourful clouds of smoke high into the sky indicative perhaps of a magical brew or potion upon the hearth.


    Many of the structures had towers, rounded or square that rose among the rooftops, allowing an unobstructed view of the streets below. The streets themselves were narrow and winding, constructed it seemed, without a straight line in thought, as they made their way along.


    Vines, some flowering, worked their way up the exterior of the buildings clinging within the cracks of the masonry. Many of the arched windows housed flower boxes beneath their sills filled with herbs or other flowering plants which added a pop of colour to the drab stone of the structures. While much of the stonework of the buildings was dull and muted, their tiled roofs and intricately carved doors were often painted as brightly as the flowers themselves in hues of purple, magenta, teal, gold and blue.


    Tish had never seen anything like it. While the market full of tents and carts reminded her of the eastern bazaars she had witnessed on television, this little village was unlike any she had ever encountered, seen perhaps only in story books or role-playing video games.


    ¡°What do you think?¡± Frost asked as he caught her eye, and she smiled wide.


    ¡°I think it¡¯s wonderful.¡±


    Kai snorted. ¡°This is a trifle when compared to the Elven cities.¡±


    Nick looked up then, a frown crossing his brow. He had been lumbering along with Frost¡¯s aid, his head lowered as they made their way.  He opened his mouth to speak, but it was Frost who retorted first.


    ¡°Behave, Kai.¡± Frost admonished. ¡°For one who has never been, I¡¯m sure the experience is quite remarkable. Do you not remember your recent excursion to the human city of York? If I remember correctly, even you were entranced.¡±


    ¡°Do you mean New York City?¡± She looked to Frost who nodded, a sly smile upon his lips. He winked at her.


    ¡°It was hardly an entrancement.¡± Kai stated hastily. ¡°I was just overwhelmed by the sheer magnitude of the buildings. Why the humans desire to live in little boxes stacked one above another, building higher and higher until the sky is obscured,¡± Kai shook his head.  ¡°I¡¯ll never understand.¡±


    They had come to a stop outside of a tall stone fence. Like many of the houses, Ivy grew up the sides, covering the wall. The entryway into the compound was through three large archways set next to one another in the fence. Beyond the gateway was Kai¡¯s headquarters. In style it was very much like many of the buildings she had previously seen, although it was somehow¡­disjointed?


    It looked as if they had started with one building, probably the stocky three level building in the middle, and as they had outgrown the space, instead of finding a new location, they had simply built on an addition. And then another. And another. And then, one more. (for good luck)


    What they ended up with was a hodgepodge of buildings of different shapes and sizes with seemingly little thought as to how they were placed. There was the main three-story structure, and to the left of that was a crooked tower. In the very front was a single-story structure with support columns running along the outside. To the right of the main building was a two-story building that ran along the side of the first building and extended far past it towards the back. A second tower, this one round and slightly taller than the first sat next to it.


    ¡°What do you think?¡± Kai asked as he turned to face them.


    Tish paused as she stared at the jumble of buildings. ¡°Uh, well¡­ It¡¯s uhm, very¡­ unique.¡± She flashed him her brightest smile.


    ¡°That¡¯s one word for it.¡± Nick said. It was the first time he had spoken since his encounter with the stone giant.


    ¡°Broken, battered and bruised,¡± Kai shook his head as he peered at Nick with a slight frown upon his brow. ¡°And yet it still manages to run off at the mouth.¡±


    ¡°Come Niko, let¡¯s get you inside.¡± Frost chuckled as he led the way.


    They entered the structure through the front building, passing under the columns to where there was a large arch-shaped double door. Stepping through, they entered a room which was¡­ completely empty?


    Indeed, it was nothing but a large open space, much like a warehouse, minus the wares. The wall on the far side was scorched black, the floor pitted and charred. The only piece of furniture was a table which ran against the inner wall, to the left of a second arched doorway.


    ¡°How¡­ strange?¡± Tish said as she looked at the nothingness. Why build a building just to leave it empty?


    Frost caught her expression and paused on this way through. ¡°Ah. Product development test facility.¡±


    ¡°Test facility?¡±


    ¡°Magic weapons go boom.¡± Kai said with a wink.


    ¡°OH!¡± Tish exclaimed, eyes wide. ¡°That actually sounds quite¡ª¡±


    ¡°Dangerous?¡± Kai gave her a knowing look.


    ¡°Extreme?¡± Frost offered.


    ¡°Fun!¡± A grin broke across her face. It was infectious. Seconds later, her companions were grinning ear to ear as well. Including Nick, despite the pain.


    As they stepped through the doorway into what appeared to be the main building, Kai began giving a brief tour. The were standing in the middle of a hallway. A set of stairs stood almost opposite them.


    ¡°Dining hall and kitchen,¡± Kai pointed to a set of doors on the right. ¡°Reception,¡± he indicated to a small room immediately to the left of the stairs. It had large windows along the front wall, through which Tish could see a counter and waiting room.


    He paused at the base of the stairs and pointed down the hall to the left to a second set of double doors. ¡°Main floor infirmary.¡± He said before he started up the stairs.


    ¡°Wait, infirmary? Shouldn¡¯t we be heading there?¡±


    Frost shook his head. ¡°My lab and private office are upstairs.¡±


    Kai paused as they reached the stairwell to the second floor. ¡°Second floor infirmary, laboratories and product development, are on this floor.¡± He continued climbing.


    ¡°A second infirmary?¡± Tish asked, her voice sounded skeptical.


    ¡°Still sound like a fun place to work?¡± Nick asked as they continued up the stairs.


    ¡°Hmm¡­¡±


    ¡°Third floor has my office,¡± Kai pointed to a set of double doors to the left of the stairwell. Security, he indicated was to the right.


    ¡°And my office and workshop.¡± Frost concluded as he sauntered towards a door further down the hall, taking Nick along with him.


    ¡°Oh, right.¡± Kai paused outside his own door. ¡°And don¡¯t forget we need to discuss the antelope in the building when you are finished with him.¡±


    ¡°Indeed.¡± Frost nodded curtly as he continued towards his office.


    ¡°Antelope?¡± Tish looked around curious.


    ¡°I think he means elephant.¡± Nick replied.


    ¡°There¡¯s an elephant?¡±


    ¡°Curious¡­ It appears she is once again spared,¡± Frost said as he opened the door for them.


    Nick nodded. ¡°Yeah.¡±


    Frost¡¯s office beyond was warm and inviting. The walls were painted a dark green, and the furniture all looked to be handcrafted and made of solid wood. An oval shaped desk and an elaborately carved green-velvet chair sat in the far centre of the room. In front of the desk was a comfortable-looking guest chair in a leaf-green leather.


    A large curio cabinet with a glass front sat against the wall he shared with Kai¡¯s office. It held an assortment of multi-coloured glass jars in various shapes and sizes and rested upon a second cabinet that had three large drawers. Further down the same wall and opposite his desk was a door which no doubt connected to Kai¡¯s office.


    A raised examination bed was against the front wall to the left of the entrance. It too looked handcrafted, was made of wood, with a plush mattress on top. The cabinet beneath held two additional drawers. It was here, that he helped Nick take a seat. To Tish, he offered her a seat in the comfy leather chair by his desk.


    Frost immediately went to his curio and began searching through the glass bottles. After selecting a few, he went to the door just beyond the bed. Hands full, he turned to Tish. ¡°Do you mind getting the door for me?¡±


    She bounded to her feet. ¡°Of course.¡± The door swung open into the next room and as Frost entered, she followed after.


    The room beyond was nothing like the one they had just left. It was large, bright, and painted white. Three long tables took up most of the space in the room. One was placed against each wall, while a third ran down the center of the room between the two.


    The first table held a wide assortment of items. There were bottles and jars holding potions and powders; measuring scales; cauldrons; candles; and metal utensils, some familiar, others foreign. The tabletop was scorched and worn, and this seemed to be Frost¡¯s main work area. This was confirmed as Frost dropped his handful of bottles upon the table and set to work.


    ¡°Feel free to look around.¡± He said as he hastily began measuring and mixing.


    The table running down the center of the room, was completely covered with papers and books. Old looking tomes in various states of care lay open or piled in stacks upon its top. She spotted several scrolls as well and while most were neatly rolled, one was spread out, held open by what appeared to be small animal skulls. Among the books and parchment were several quills and tiny bottles of ink.


    The third table running along the far wall held metal cages, and glass aquariums. At a glance she could see, mice, rabbits and in a tall elegant looking cage, birds. A second tall cage sat next to the first, but it was covered by a heavy dustcloth.


    At the far end of the room was a series of large windows. In front, was what could only be described as a mini greenhouse. The entire space was occupied by plants and fungi. Some of which were familiar to her, and she knew to be quite deadly, like nightshade and wolfsbane; while others were unfamiliar and looked like something out of a fairytale.


    When she had completed her tour of the room, she went back to Frost, who was finishing up his potion. In his hand he held a glass bottle with a blue tincture within.


    ¡°That was fast.¡±


    ¡°Speed comes with experience. It also helps that this is a potion I know well. This healing draught comes in useful here and I¡¯ve been able to refine its strength over the years.¡±


    Frost immediately went back to his small office and Tish followed on his heels. Nick was sitting on the table, back leaning against the wall. He looked grim and pale with his arm wrapped around himself protectively. It didn¡¯t look like he¡¯d moved an inch since settling down.


    Frost went to the drawer beneath his curio cabinet and came out with a strange pair of shears.


    Nick eyed him suspiciously as he came towards him. ¡°What¡¯du¡¯ya think yer doing with those?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m going to cut off the bindings, of course.¡± As Frost approached, he worked the shears as if in anticipation. They made a slight rasping sound as he did.


    ¡°Just the binds, right?¡± Nick was staring at the shears with apprehension.


    ¡°To start.¡± Frost tipped his head to the side as he regarded Nick. A gentle smile played about his lips. ¡°I think you realize the jacket has to go.¡±


    ¡°Not my motorcycle jacket, you don¡¯t,¡± he held out his good arm in warning. ¡°I just got it broken in how I like it.¡±


    ¡°Perhaps if you stopped using your body as a battering-ram, I wouldn¡¯t have to keep cutting you out of your clothing.¡±


    ¡°Hey, the plan worked, didn¡¯t it?¡±


    ¡°The results were adequate.¡± Frost said as he set his sheers down on his desk and went back to his curio. He searched through the bottles once more, this time pulling out a medium sized brown-glass bottle with a cork in its top. ¡°It¡¯s the execution that needs work.¡±


    He stepped back to Nick and uncorked the bottle. He held it towards Nick. ¡°Here, take a good whiff of this. It will help.¡±


    Nick leaned towards the bottle. ¡°Oh, yeah? What is it?¡± He smelt the contents and instantly slumped forward.


    ¡°It¡¯s a strong anaesthetic.¡± Frost immediately re-corked the bottle and returned it to his cupboard.


    Tish who¡¯d been quietly watching the two from her chair, gasped as she leapt forward to Nick¡¯s side. ¡°Oh!¡± Leaning in, she poked him. ¡°Hey, he¡¯s out cold.¡± She noted as she looked to Frost.


    ¡°Hmm?¡± Frost regarded her curiously. ¡°Ah, yes. That¡¯s much better, don¡¯t you think?¡± He picked up his shears on his way back to Nick.


    ¡°Uh¡­ I guess?¡± Tish looked back at him flabbergasted. She didn¡¯t know what else to say. She watched as Frost lowered Nick to the mattress. He began snipping away the canvas strips he had wrapped around him earlier.


    ¡°Wolven heal quickly, so I have to put these bones back in order before they begin to fuse out of place.¡± He pulled the strips free and dropped them hastily to the floor. ¡°It would be unfortunate if that were to happen.¡± Without a second thought he began to cut up the sleeve of Nick¡¯s treasured jacket. He continued across the shoulder and through the collar. Then he did the same with his shirt.


    Nick¡¯s shoulder, arm and chest was purple with bruises, and Tish could see where his collarbone pushed against his skin at a grotesque angle. With Nick unconscious, Frost was free to manipulate his shoulder and arm as needed.


    Frost closed his eyes and chanted something in what was probably Elvish, and when he next opened his eyes, they were glowing a bright white. ¡°Ah, yes. Now I see. This is fortunate. The break is quite clean.¡±


    ¡°Oh?¡± Tish looked at Frost as he continues to investigate Nick¡¯s shoulder. ¡°Can you really see his bones?¡±


    ¡°Yes, my dear. Now, may I borrow your hands again?¡±


    ¡°Oh, but of course.¡±


    Frost directed her in the placement. ¡°Place your hands, here and here. Now apply a bit of pressure, just enough to hold the bone in place.¡±


    ¡°Like this?¡±


    He scrutinized her positioning carefully. ¡°Yes, that¡¯s right.¡±


    Frost then moved on to Nick¡¯s arm, rotating it gently until he was happy with its placement. With the bottle in one hand and the other holding Nick¡¯s arm in place, Frost uncorked the potion with his teeth. He poured the contents into Nick¡¯s mouth.


    ¡°How long do you think¡ª¡± She gasped unexpectedly as Nick¡¯s body began to glow.


    ¡°It works instantaneously.¡±


    Tish watched awestruck as Nick¡¯s shoulder and upper arm became blue, the same colour as the potion he¡¯d been made to swallow.


    Frost was peering closely at Nick, his eyes still strangely white. ¡°Yes. He¡¯s healing nicely.¡±


    When his shoulder stopped glowing, Frost indicated that she could remove her hands. The glow then continued down his side, encompassing his bruised ribs. When his arm and ribs ceased to be blue, a spot under Nick¡¯s opposite shoulder began to glow through the fabric of his shirt.


    ¡°Did he hurt his other shoulder too?¡± Tish¡¯s brow crinkled together.


    Frost turned his miraculous gaze to this new area, pulling back his shirt as he looked. ¡°The potion works by locating trauma. It repairs the more urgent injuries first. It appears he may have injured his shoulder at an earlier time and the tissue had not fully recovered.¡±


    Frost closed his eyes for a moment, and when he opened them again, they had returned to their normal shade of violet. He stretched briefly, long elegant limbs extended, before he began cleaning up the area, picking up the canvas strips he had earlier dropped to the floor.


    Tish dropped to her knees to help, and as their eyes met, he offered her a hint of a smile. ¡°Thank you my dear,¡± he said as he rose to his feet, arm outstretched to give her a hand up.


    ¡°Oh, yes. Of course. Thank you for helping Nick.¡± She found herself staring at her sneakers as she spoke. These elves had a tendency to hold eye contact longer than humans did, and she found it made her nervous.


    ¡°Nick, yes.¡± He said the name as if it was foreign to his tongue. ¡°But you hardly need to thank me. I am quite fond of the pup. Kai too, as you may have noticed.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, what¡¯s the deal between those two? Nick had me thinking that Kai was some sort of evildoer and that I had to watch my back.¡±


    Frost chuckled. He leaned against his desk, crossing his arms across his chest as he did. ¡°Evil, no. But make no mistake, you don¡¯t want to cross him or get between him and his goals. Kai can be quite formidable when challenged.¡±


    ¡°And did Nick challenge him in some way?¡±


    Frost smiled. ¡°Only whenever they meet. Kai, you see, being of royal blood is accustomed to being afforded a certain amount of respect. Over time, he has grown to expect it and at times his manners can be ¡­lacking. Niko endeavours to remind him of this. It befuddles Kai so, and I dare admit that I find their spirited bickering rather amusing.¡± He slapped his hands upon his knee before rising to his feet. ¡°Shall we make some tea while we wait? Or perhaps would you prefer coffee? Although I must admit, I am much more accomplished at brewing tea.¡±


    ¡°Tea would be lovely.¡± Other than a bite of apple, she hadn¡¯t eaten since breakfast.


    ¡°Very well. I¡¯ll just inform Kai of our intent.¡± Frost went and knocked upon the door by his desk, before opening it wide. In an instant she could see Kai peering into the room from the doorway as his eyes carefully scanned the room beyond.


    ¡°We¡¯re off to the kitchen to make some tea.¡± Frost said as Kai pushed past him and into the room.


    He immediately went over to examine Nick¡¯s sleeping form. ¡°The boy is in no condition to be drinking tea.¡±


    ¡°Which is why I have called upon you. I don¡¯t think it wise to leave him alone in present company. Do you disagree?¡±


    ¡°No. You are correct. I will sit with him.¡±


    Frost bowed curtly. ¡°I had hoped you might. If he awakes feel free to join us. You know where we¡¯ll be.¡± To Tish, he turned and graciously offered her his hand. ¡°My lady.¡±


    The gesture was unexpected, and it caught her off guard as she found herself being swallowed up by those violet eyes.  Shyly, she reached her hand out to accept his. A moment later she was being led out of the room. It left her little time to reflect upon the strangeness of their conversation before it had completely slipped her mind.