10/15/2022 0 Comments Chapter ThirteenThursday June 29, 2017 It was another night at Rhyme or Reason Karaoke Bar, but it was anything but typical. Sierra, slowly sipping the house beer, eyed Armstrong who sat on the stool to her right. When she had arrived for the evening, she’d been shocked to find out he was taking a night off (mostly thanks to Chastity, the newest employee, who was helping run the show with Mack). He’s never had a break as long as I’ve known him. Even after sitting and talking with him for several hours, she couldn’t wrap her head around it.
“—and I can promise you this much, he wasn’t going to be casting any more spells with his arm like that,” he chuckled as he wrapped up yet another tale of his past escapades. It was so odd seeing him so relaxed, cheerful, and talkative—something that was only further accentuated by the tacky pink floral shirt he was wearing. When her mug was finally empty, Sierra set it down on the bartop and snorted. “Pretty sure you could write a damn book with as many stories as you’ve got.” She shot a side glance at Mack, who was practically head-over-heels staring at Armstrong, hanging on every word he said. With a sigh, she said, “News to barkeep: I need a refill.” “Right!” Mack jumped up and grabbed her mug. “Coming right up!” “Eh, I’m not much of a writer. Besides, no one would want to read a ninety page diatribe against my old teacher, and that’s the first thing I’d do.” He lifted his mug, which was still full due to how much he’d been talking, and drained it in the blink of an eye. “I’ll need a refill too, please.” “Yes, sir!” Mack purred as they slid Sierra’s drink down the bar to her. Armstrong glanced towards her. “My walk in the park with Mack was nice.” “Good to know,” she muttered before starting on her tenth round that night. “Between that and this, I think I should’ve taken time off ages ago. Hell, I got to sleep in today. My pals Enrico and Amber opened and did the afternoon. Maybe once this Dracula shit is resolved, I can take a vacation.” With another snort, she retorted, “Sure, you’ll fit right in with the other Hawaii tourists with a shirt like that.” “I’m a 6’5” mountain of muscles; I’m not fitting in anywhere I go,” he laughed as he turned his head around. “Jesus, where did your friend go off to? He’s been gone awhile.” “Bathroom.” She shrugged, not really wanting to think about what exactly was keeping David in there for so long. Guess he can’t handle the buffalo wings like I can. As if on cue, David reappeared and slid back into his seat. His eyes looked a bit redder than they’d been a few minutes ago. “Sorry. Burned my tongue on a wing. So, uh, what did I miss? Last I remember you’d just crashed your sled into the farmhouse, and your sister was about to lose her bar in a game of poker.” “You missed the whole rest of the story, kid,” Armstrong grumbled. “Get him drunk enough and he’ll probably tell it again,” Sierra teased. “Get me drunk enough and you’re going to hear me rant about Nicolas Flamel for a couple of hours at minimum,” Armstrong snorted as Mack brought him another glass, which he proceeded to down in record time. “Really not a fan of minor characters in the Harry Potter books, huh?” David noted dryly. “Not a fan of pompous assholes with no morals,” Armstrong grumbled. “I think this is the most I’ve ever heard you talk about your life in one go,” Mack teased as they refilled David’s mug. “Guess it’s just nice to take a break. Don’t think I have in about a hundred years.” Truth be told, Sierra had never seen Armstrong look so relaxed. Even when they were making bets about whether or not the shy nerdy guy would work up the courage to make a move on the ditzy blonde who was clearly way out of his league, he was never quite so carefree. He was the cliché strong, silent type who kept things semi-professional at the bar, not a Hawaiian-shirt wearing, alcohol-guzzling dork who blabbered on about their younger days. “Maybe on my next day off I can regale you all with stories from my mortal days,” Mack sighed. “You might think I’m a bit of a twat after you hear them, though.” Under her breath, Sierra sarcastically muttered, “Could just tell him them next time you go to the park.” Mack shot her a dirty look while David tried to stifle his laughter. Armstrong, as usual, was blissfully unaware of her comment. “Eh,” he shrugged, “I’ve heard those stories, it's not all that bad in the grand scheme of things. I’ve met people who’ve done way worse and didn’t try to do better.” “Yeah,” she agreed, her thoughts immediately zipping straight to her dad. He was the poster child for a person who was horrible and didn’t try to improve. “I imagine you’re thinking of the same person I am,” Mack said quietly, a bitter scowl on their face. “Victoria should be thankful he’s not here because no force on this Earth would keep me from roaming the streets to blast his pretty little face off.” “I’m pretty sure I could,” Armstrong smirked. “I’d just have to keep you pinned down somewhere. I think it’d be easy.” Sierra physically gagged while Mack’s entire face turned beet red. “Er, excuse me. I’ll be back in a moment, just need to… Um. Check the… Uhh…” They turned on their heels and darted into the kitchen. Armstrong took a sip of his drink. “So, Goldilocks. Do you and your buddy want to make a bet?” Once again, muttering so Armstrong didn’t actually hear her, she said, “Is it whether or not Mack’s about to get off in front of tomorrow’s buffalo wings?” Beside her, David choked on his drink yet again. “It’s dangerous to drink around you people,” he whispered in amusement. “I’m going to guess whatever you mumbled wasn’t ‘Yes, Armstrong, let’s do it, I’m gonna beat your ass again.’ Which might be for the best because you’d lose this one.” “The fuck I would.” “Alright, then. Here’s the bet: I’m saying two days.” What the hell was that supposed to mean? She stared at Armstrong blankly, waiting for him to cough up more information. She didn’t have to wait long. With an amused smirk, he continued, “Until Mack makes a move.” Before she could stop herself, her eyebrows shot upwards in shock. “Hold the fuck on, you know they’re into you?” “I’m oblivious, but I’m not fucking stupid,” he grumbled. “I’ve known for a while. I guess I just hoped they’d move on to someone who wasn’t a miserable workaholic. But I guess you and your buddy there gave me the kick in the ass I needed because last night in the park was the nicest I’ve had since I got kicked out of Germany.” Sierra turned in her stool to face Armstrong as she said, “Hold on, I’m confused. You want them to move on, but you like them?” “I did want them to move on. I’m not sure what they think is so great about me, honestly. But if they make a move, I’m pretty sure I’m not going to say no. They’re the most loyal, hardworking, and kind-hearted person I know.” He took another deep drink, draining his mug yet again. “I’ll say a week,” David said. “Two,” Sierra piped in. “I like them, but they ain’t got the courage.” Armstrong shook his head and chuckled. “It’s gonna be nice seeing you finally pay your tab, Goldilocks.” “Keep dreaming,” she snorted. “If you win, I’ll get rid of the karaoke machine. That’s how sure I am you’re gonna lose.” She glanced at him in disbelief. “You’re fucking with me.” “You’ll never find out since you’ll be losing the bet.” “Man, he’s really sure of himself,” David noted. “And what the fuck are you expecting if I lose?” she asked with narrowed eyes. He gave her the most deadpan look imaginable as he said, “You to sing something.” Revolted by the mere thought, Sierra shot back, “Like hell I will.” “Guess you better hope you win, then,” Armstrong chuckled. “I know I’m gonna win because Mack is a bit of a wuss.” She held out her hand to Armstrong. “So we making a deal on this or what?” “Absolutely.” He took her hand in his and shook, sealing the bet. “Guess what?” an annoying peppy voice interrupted from beside them. Sierra glanced to her right to see Chastity standing there with a wad of cash in her hand and a smile that could rival the Sun’s brightness. “That table of guys that has been here all night just tipped me $50, and their bill was only $32!” “I wonder why,” Sierra rolled her eyes. No doubt it had something to do with how low-cut her shirt was. Even her apron couldn’t hide her cleavage (which, admittedly, was impressive considering her meager breast size). Chastity’s face fell, her smile sizzling out like a bonfire that had just been doused with a pail of water. “Good work, kiddo,” Armstrong replied enthusiastically. “You earned it. And I know it’s my night off, but if anyone acts creepy, let me know. I’ll toss them through a wall.” “Thanks,” the server whispered, giving a small smile, though there wasn’t much effort behind it. “I’m going to… go wash the dishes.” Shoving the cash in her pocket, she hurried to the kitchen with speed that rivaled Mack’s just a moment ago. “You’re about to get a bunch of perverts in here, you know,” she warned the bartender. “Especially if she keeps dressing like that.” “And they’ll leave on a stretcher if they act up,” Armstrong replied coolly. “How she dresses is her business.” “And yours. It’s your damn place.” She shrugged. “Where the fuck is Mack? I need a damn refill before I head out.” As if on cue, Mack returned. ”Sorry, sorry. Had to have a talk with Mr. Bishop. He couldn’t find the right sauce for the wings and all, you know how it is when they shove the boxes all the way to the back of the storage room.” “Mhmm,” Armstrong murmured with amusement. Rolling her eyes, Sierra pushed her empty glass mug across the bar top. “One more, then you can cash me out for the night.” With a glance at David, she asked, “You good with that?” David shrugged. “Fine by me.” Sierra chugged her last beer while Mack ran her debit card. When she was done, she hopped off of her stool and stretched her arms above her head. “See you guys tomorrow. Same time, same place.” “Hope the rain’s let up by now. I know you’ll be fine, but I’d hate for your buddy to catch a cold,” Armstrong laughed. “He’s got a sweatshirt on,” she pointed out. “He’ll be fine.” With that, she walked out of the bar for the night at a relatively early hour. Usually she stayed until closing, but she had a feeling Mack would be quite relieved to have Armstrong all to themself for the rest of the evening. When Sierra had arrived seven hours ago, it had been raining pretty heavily, but now it was drizzling lightly. “You gonna be good to walk in this?” she asked David knowing full well he would be considering how he had also trekked to the bar around the same time she had in the late afternoon downpour. “Duh,” he snorted. “I love the rain. It’s cool, refreshing, and I feel less weird about wearing this hoodie in the summer.” “If you say so,” she shrugged as they started their journey. She was grateful the rain didn’t bring humidity with it. The heat didn’t bother her much, but her hair couldn’t handle it when it got humid out. “I think the main thing is it usually makes it cooler out. I can’t handle heat at all. It’s, uh, why I ran to the bathroom for a while. Burned my tongue on some chicken… Which I’m pretty sure I mentioned. Think I drank too much, I’m repeating myself.” “Uh-huh.” She rolled her eyes. “I don’t care what you do in the bathroom. That’s your business.” David went quiet for a minute as they continued walking. Eventually, he spoke once more. “Can I ask you something?” With a sigh, she asked, “I guess.” “Why do you keep sniping at that new girl?” She couldn’t stop a laugh from escaping her mouth. Was he serious? “She’s annoyingly peppy. Reminds me of those cheerleaders in high school, always smiling.” “I mean, yeah, she’s way too happy. I guess I just figured there had to be more to it since you keep going after her in front of her boss who I’m pretty sure could tear you in half with his bare hands.” “Armstrong won’t do shit to me.” She knew that wasn’t the answer he was looking for, so with a reluctant sigh, she said, “Look, I get life hasn’t exactly been easy for her either. But she got on my damn nerves waving money around like she did anything. Do you know what I had to do to get a fifty when I first started on my own?” She pointed to her face. “Get a damn black eye. But she can show some skin and get cash thrown at her? Bullshit. So sorry if I’m pissed off, but I worked for what I have.” David seemed to ponder this for a moment before, surprisingly, nodding in understanding. “Alright, that makes sense. I get where you’re coming from.” Although she wouldn’t admit it out loud, she felt a little relieved. “At least someone does.” “That’s the only good thing about Rhine. You’ll always find at least one person who gets it. Sorry that it’s me, though.” Sierra shrugged. “At least you can keep up with my drinking.” “It helps when you don’t really get drunk.” Sierra stopped in her tracks. “Say what?” Was David a vampire, too? “I know what you’re thinking,” he laughed, stopping a foot ahead of her, “but nah, I’m not a vampire. I have someone looking out for me and since I’m doing him a favor, he lets me do a few magic tricks.” She scowled in confusion. “The fuck does that mean?” “Exactly what it sounds like. I can do some magic. Mostly I just use it to keep my body cool and to drink a lot, but I can do some other stuff too.” “You seriously expect me to believe that?” she asked monotonously, crossing her arms over her chest. Wordlessly, David extended his hand, palm out. There was a flash of blue light and the next thing she knew, something cold had smacked against her shoulder. Before her brain could comprehend what happened, her muscles tensed up and she flung her fist towards him. It connected with his face, and she heard a sickening crunch. “What the fuck!” she shouted before realizing David had thrown snow at her. It’s fucking July! Where the hell did he get snow? Her hands were shaking as she watched a small trail of blood seep from his nostril. Shit. “Why the fuck would you throw something at me?” she yelled, ignoring the guilt uncomfortably weighing down the pit of her stomach. “Oh, fuck, hold on,” he gasped, holding up a finger. He doubled over for a moment before straightening back up and shooting her an apologetic look. “Sorry. That was my bad. Should’ve given you a heads up… Holy fuck, what a punch though! I think you broke my nose for a second, damn!” “Of course I did,” she spat, still shaken by the whole thing. “How the fuck did you think I made all that money?” “How do you not have a fucking mansion if that’s what you were paid for?” he said. “They had to be shortchanging you. Now I get even more why that server pisses you off.” She inhaled slowly to calm herself. “I made good money, and that’s what I’ve been living off of. Look…” She knew she should apologize, but that was easier said than done for her. “You can’t just… fucking throw things at me, okay? It’s a damn reflex. I don’t usually go around hitting people anymore.” “No, yeah, I’m sorry. I should’ve… uh, picked something else to show off. I deserved that.” She frowned. “Hold on, you made the snow?” Those were his magical powers? He stared at her blankly, the light rain dripping down his face washing away the rest of the blood from his nose. “Did you… think I just carried snow in my pocket or something? Did you miss the flash of light?” “Fuck, I don’t know!” she shot back feeling rather stupid. “I’m sorry, I really can’t get over that you thought I carry around a pocketful of snow,” he laughed, inhaling deeply. “Anyway, yeah. I can do some ice stuff. Uh, one thing though. Don’t tell Rika. My guy doesn’t want her knowing.” Suspicions raising, she asked, “Why?” “Honestly?” He shrugged. “I’ve got no fucking clue. Trust me, it gets on my nerves. I’ve been friends with her for years, and I can’t even let her in on this. I kinda feel shitty.” Sierra had about a dozen questions, but she also didn’t want to get caught in another downpour, so she started walking again. Thankfully, David got the hint and followed suit. “So, who is this guy? A wizard or something?” “Something like that, yeah.” She found it odd David wasn’t giving her much information. Is this something he’s supposed to hide? She wasn’t about to give up, though. “So what do you do for him?” “I keep Rika safe. He won’t tell me why he cares, if that’s what you’re gonna ask next. But ever since I saved her from freezing to death on the streets, he’s asked me to keep an eye on her…” He sighed. “Considering she’s a vampire, you can tell how good I am at that.” “She ain’t dead so I think you’re doing a damn good job,” she shrugged. “Well thanks. I ever see her ex again, though, I’m beating the shit out of him for turning her.” “Can’t say I’d blame you.” She wished she could do the same to the asshole who turned her. “You wanna help me if I find him?” David asked. “Nah. That’s your fight. Besides, I’m retired.” “Fair. Think it’d be over too quick if you helped me with a punch like yours.” She snorted, unable to hold back a smirk. “Yeah, that’s probably true.” They walked in silence for a while, their footsteps slapping loudly against the wet pavement beneath them. Then, David said, “I’m gonna keep your brother safe too. Val, I mean. I think Jason can handle himself. But if Val’s gonna insist on this and you want no part of it…” He shrugged. “I’m already there anyway for Rika.” While internally she was grateful, she outwardly grumbled, “You really don’t have to do that. That’s my damn job now since Jason can’t do a single fucking thing right.” “All the more reason for me to lend a hand so you can drink in peace.” Sierra grunted in response, but she wasn’t exactly going to say no to the offer. She didn’t quite know what her brothers and their “gang” got up to, so having David watching Val’s back took a weight off of her shoulders. He’s a good guy, she admitted to herself, vowing to never utter those words out loud. As long as he helps keep Val safe. That’s what really matters. ****** Jemima was in an intense court case. She was one of many in the jury who would decide the fate of a four-eyed bear with blue fur that was accused of stealing a stick of butter’s yacht. She had just sat down for the second day of the trial when the judge began slamming his hammer repeatedly on the bench. “Jemima!” a very familiar but muffled voice was shouting. “Jemima! Wake up and open this door!” What in the world? she thought in confusion. She looked around the courtroom, which had devolved into chaos as a warthog with tiger stripes was running around squealing in fright. “Jemima! Wake up!” the voice continued as the rapping got louder. Is that… Ryo? Suddenly, her eyes popped open. It took a few seconds for her to realize she was lying in bed. It was very dark in her bedroom, so she sat up and turned on the lamp on her bedside table. She slid her glasses on her face and waited for her eyes to adjust to the light. When she could sufficiently see, she peered at the sterling silver clock hanging on her wall. “It’s only 1:08 in the morning?” she groaned in irritation. Why was someone bothering her in the middle of the night? “Jemima, wake up right now!” the voice, which she had now deemed was indeed Ryo’s, shouted. “I’m coming,” she snapped. Extremely reluctantly, she stood up and grabbed a lilac bathrobe draped over the foot of her bed. She quickly put it on over her silk periwinkle pajamas and opened the door. As she expected, Ryo was standing there. He looked both frantic and irate, his hands balled into fists at his sides. He looked like he hadn’t slept at all considering how red his eyes were. “What could you possibly need at this hour?” Jemima sighed. “So,” Ryo snarled through clenched teeth, “you must really think I’m an idiot, huh?” “I haven’t the slightest idea what you are talking about.” She blinked a few times to clear the sleepiness from her eyes. “The Countess vomiting blood in your driveway, ring any bells?” he snapped. “Did you think I wouldn’t find out? What the fuck happened today? I mean what really happened.” Jemima realized with great annoyance that she would have to question each and every member of her staff in the morning to find out who gave Ryo that information. As if I wasn’t busy enough, she mentally groaned. As calmly as she could, she replied, “Mr. Amano, you need rest. This conversation can wait until a later date.” “Oh, no it fucking can’t! In case you forgot, if I don’t do my mom’s dirty work, I’m dead! And the Countess might be the only person who can help me, and you’re, what, poisoning her?” With a snort, she sarcastically commented, “You do not want her help. Trust me on that much, at least.” “Don’t you tell me what I do and don’t want! You’re keeping the truth from me!” He became ever more frantic, his eyes widening as he stepped backwards. “How do I know you’re not with them? How do I—“ He reached into his pocket and pulled out his watch, frantically flipping it open. “H-Help, please, I need help, I need—“ She heard what sounded like a clock winding down, then right before her eyes, Ryo vanished. “Where did…?” Was this another strange dream? It very much seemed like it. What other explanation was there for his sudden disappearance? “Or perhaps the stress is finally getting to you and you are hallucinating, Jemima Mathers,” she mumbled. With a shake of her head, she closed her bedroom door. She yelped in fright when she turned around, her hand immediately covering her mouth. Ryo Amano was sitting on the edge of her bed looking even more freaked out than she was. “How the hell did you…?” “It was so still…” he muttered shakily. “Why… What the fuck is happening…” “How did you get into my room?” she screeched, her arms flailing wildly as she scrambled to come up with an explanation. “The world… stood still. Frozen. Like time stopped.” He slid off the bed, sinking to the floor and curling up in a fetal position. “I didn’t know where to go, what to do. I stayed here. How else would you believe it? How else would you understand?” Realizing how desperately he needed to rest, Jemima felt herself relax as she let out a sigh. She was fatigued, and she missed him rushing into her room. A simple mistake on her part. “Mr. Amano, please. It is late. Let me take you back to your bed.” “You need to fix things with the Countess. Now,” Ryo gasped. “I find a hundred year old picture with her and my dad, and now I’m stopping time. There’s a connection. I can feel it!” He held his watch up and waved it about. “That must be what it’s telling me!” “The Countess is a threat to us both,” she plainly replied, growing annoyed by Ryo’s baseless panicking and her lack of sleep. “I forbid her from contacting me further.” “Bullshit! I need to ask her about my dad. She’s the only one with answers! If you don’t call her here, I’ll go out in the pouring rain and find her myself!” “You must be joking.” Surely he wouldn’t seriously consider wandering around the most dangerous city in America alone to find one person, would he? Not a person, she reminded herself. A monster. “I will walk out the damn door right now and if my mom’s friends don’t get me first, then the pneumonia will.” “Fine!” she snapped. “I will call her, but you will get a decent night of rest first. I will not allow royalty to see you in such a state.” It would also allow her to ensure protective procedures were in place. “Oh no, I’m sitting here and watching you call her! Right now, go on! I’m not sleeping until she answers!” Unbelievable. Rolling her eyes behind her glasses, she stormed across her room to where her phone rested on her dark oak bedside table next to the beige glass lamp. She could feel Ryo’s burning glare as she scrolled through her contacts until she found “Countess Nadia Shibani.” Inwardly, she scowled at it. The mere fact that Ryo had somehow gained all of the power in this situation infuriated her. After everything I’ve done for him… With it being so late at night, Jemima dared to hope the Countess was fast asleep. Perhaps she’d simply leave a voicemail and both she and Ryo could get a decent night’s rest. But, alas, it seemed that wasn’t the case as after three stressful rings, the woman on the other end picked up. “And what, pray tell, do you want, mortal?” came a reply that, despite everything, seemed uncharacteristically harsh. “Have you called to rub yet more salt in my wounds?” “No,” she answered monotonously. “Your presence is required with haste.” “Oh? I thought you were quite clear our business was concluded. I am guessing this is some misguided ploy to kill me, yes? More powerful beings than you have failed in that regard, so for your sake I would reconsider.” Jemima scoffed. “I have no interest in ending your life, Countess. Our business is concluded, true. However, it seems Mr. Amano has questions he is certain only you can answer.” “I am uncertain why it is you think I would care to aid your associate.” With a heavy sigh, she muttered, “It relates to the photograph.” “I now have no home and no purpose in this wretched city due to my misplaced trust in you, and when I can return to Germany to resume my exile is uncertain. Yet you call me after cruelly rebuking me that I might discuss my family’s holiday photograph with your friend? Are you quite mad?” “How’s it going?” Ryo whispered. “Is she on her way?” Jemima glanced at him. His face was lit up with excitement like a young child who was certain he’d heard Santa on the rooftop and was waiting by the fireplace for the jolly old man to make his way down the chimney. She held up a finger to signal she needed a moment before turning her back to him. With her voice lowered in hopes Ryo didn’t hear her, Jemima said, “Mr. Amano’s father disappeared when he was a child. He wants…” She paused before correcting herself. “He deserves answers. I beg you to tell him what you know.” It was beneath her to do such a thing, but if it would set Ryo on the road to recovery, then she’d swallow her pride just this once. There was a long silence from the other end. “I…will do this kindness for him.” She let out a silent breath of relief. “Macavity will be waiting for your arrival.” Wishing not to speak to her much longer, she ended the call and turned towards Ryo once more. “She agreed to come.” Her friend’s face lit up like a Christmas tree as he threw his hands into the air. “Yes! Thank you! Thank you, thank you, thank you! Haha!” His happiness was contagious and despite how tired and irritated she was, she let a small smile find its way on her face. “Will you please get some rest before she arrives?” “Alright, fine,” he grumbled. “But you better wake me up when she gets here.” “Of course,” she promised. Satisfied, Ryo finally left her room. As much as Jemima wanted to collapse back into bed, there was more to do before the Countess’s arrival. Namely, informing her number one. She felt quite guilty about waking Macavity, but it was an unfortunate necessity. In order not to disturb the privacy she granted him when he was off the clock (of which night was one of those periods), she opted to simply call him. As was often the case, he answered within one ring. “What’s up, boss? You know it’s a bit early, yeah?” “Yes. I apologize if I woke you. We are expecting a guest.” “At this hour? Who could possibly think this is a good time to come over?” “Mr. Armano does,” she answered with a frustrated sigh. “I need the front hall and living room fortified with as much silver and holy objects as possible. Arm every staff member in the mansion. Ensure you have backup.” “Oh. Bringing her back, eh? You think it’s a good idea?” “Absolutely not, but Mr. Armano needs answers. Unfortunately, she can provide a number of them.” “Bloody hell… How long do I have?” She winced at how moments ago, she had briskly ended the phone call without solid plans. “I haven’t the slightest idea. I simply told her with haste.” “Guess I gotta hope I’m quicker than a vampire, then. Not sure what I can do on short notice like this, but I think that Roger has a stash of silver stuff. Real paranoid, superstitious guy, that one. Guess he was right to be. Anyway… I’ll do what I can.” “Thank you. Please wake me upon her arrival, but do not let her enter without me present.” “Wasn’t planning on it. Rest up, boss. I’ll get things done.” “Once this matter is concluded, you will be free to spend the day as you wish,” she vowed. It was the least she could do considering the task at hand. “Oh, might finally have time for a massage, then. Been feeling a bit tense lately, all things considered.” He chuckled. “Alright, I’m off to get this done.” She bid him farewell before finally returning to her bed. She felt far more relaxed once she had discarded her robe and was tucked in under the covers in the dark once more, but her mind was racing. Not even twelve hours had passed since she’d unceremoniously banned the Countess from her home, yet the woman was to return once more. She loathed not having the upper hand in this situation. Jemima hadn’t realized she’d fallen asleep, but felt like she’d barely rested at all when her cell phone began to ring again. With an irritated groan, she grabbed it from her bedside table, answered the call, and brought it to her ear. “Yes?” she asked in a groggy voice. “Got as much done as I could on short notice, but she’s here quicker than I thought. Sopping wet, too. Honestly feel a bit bad for her, she looks miserable…” Macavity sighed. “So, want me to fetch Ryo, or should I get Kenzo to do it?” “Let him sleep,” she instructed. “He needs it. I’ll be down shortly.” For the second time that night, she turned on her bedside lamp. As fast as she could, Jemima got dressed. Despite the very late hour, she wanted to look presentable. She threw on a simple magenta button-down blouse, a pair of black dress slacks, and black flats. She pulled her long, graying hair back in a loose, low ponytail and threw on mascara and a nude shade of lipstick. After a quick spritz of her favorite perfume, she finally left her room and joined Macavity and two of her mercenary crew at the front door. Macavity handed her a wooden crucifix as soon as she approached. “Roger was more than happy to offer up his stash of silver bullets. Said he always knew this day would come. I’ve got a gut feeling it’s not coming to that, though.” “We’ll see,” she muttered through gritted teeth. She had no energy (or care) for pleasantries, so she simply yanked open the door and stared with disdain at the Countess who, as Macavity had told her, was soaking wet. Her clothes were dark and heavy as they clung to her skin, and she looked utterly miserable. Good. The Countess stared blankly at her. “Are you to invite me in so I may give your friend what he seeks?” “Mr. Amano is resting,” she explained. “When he awakes in the morning, I will bring him to you. In the meantime, I have made accommodations for you while you wait.” She paused before continuing with her voice low. “Let me make myself very clear to you, Countess. I have no interest in allowing you to enter my home ever again. However, Mr. Amano’s well-being is very important to me. I am perhaps foolishly trusting you to give him what he desperately seeks.” The Countess leaned forward and pressed herself up against the open doorway, her body hanging against the opening as if there were an invisible wall, and smirked. “He will know his heritage and more. I wonder, when you hear, will you cast him out as well? Or is your hypocrisy as deep as your cruelty?” Trying very hard to keep her ignited rage contained, Jemima answered, “Of course not. He’s not a blood-sucking fiend.” “His father was a ‘blood-sucking fiend,’ as you call it. A dear friend and a good man… His heart would break to see the sort of company his progeny keeps, I think.” This surprised Jemima. Did Ryo know this of his father? No, I don’t believe he would be so frantic if he did. “Mr. Amano is not his father,” she pointed out. Without another word, she backed away from the doorway and nodded at Macavity. “Please escort the Countess to the living room.” “Right, right. Come on in, Countess.” The Countess straightened up and strolled into the doorway, stopping only to snatch the crucifix out of Jemima’s hands and giggle. “Oh, how cute! Did you perhaps make me some garlic bread as well? I am as famished as you are ignorant." With another laugh, she followed Macavity and left Jemima standing with her mercenaries in the front hall. “Uh… What was her deal?” one of them asked. “Is she a mime or something? That was weird.” “If only,” she grumbled before closing the door, locking it, and joining her guest in the living room. The Countess’s sopping wet clothes were dripping all over the floor. Wonderful. In addition to compensating her employees for working on their time off, she would need to ensure the carpet was properly cleaned to avoid water damage. As if reading her mind, Macavity asked, “Think we should get her a change of clothes? Seems a bit cruel to leave her in soaking wet ones. Though not sure if it’s much bother to the undead. No offense, Countess.” “I have a heartbeat and pulse as much as you do, Mister Macavity,” the Countess huffed indignantly. “And I promise you, even if I am in no danger of sickness, these clothes are quite uncomfortable and I am quite cold.” The thought of giving her clothing to the Countess sickened Jemima, but so did the thought of her pristinely white couch being ruined. “Macavity, perhaps you can fetch a t-shirt and a pair of jeans from my dresser.” She glanced at him. “The bottom two shelves.” He was the only one she’d trust rifling through her things. “Right, I’ll be back shortly.” He gave Nadia a pointed look. “Don’t try anything.” “I was going to cut your coworkers from groin to gullet and bathe in their blood, but since you asked so nicely, I suppose I will behave,” the Countess retorted sarcastically. “Oh, I’m looking forward to that massage,” Macavity mumbled as he headed out of the room. Jemima heavily resisted the urge to gag at the mental image the Countess had provided her with. “Must you be so vile?” “Oh, I am so sorry to offend your delicate sensibilities, child,” the Countess said with feigned apologeticness. “I’m not used to spending time with mortals with such weak constitutions.” “Please,” she scoffed. “I’ve heard and seen worse.” Nothing immediately came to mind, but the Countess didn’t need to know that fact. “You jest, yes?” she laughed. “I have lived six times your life, and I am quite certain you have seen nothing. You would not even be aware of the full scope of this world if I did not snap you to your senses, and even then you know oh so little.” “Enough!” she barked. “I will not be disrespected in my own home.” Especially by someone she had no interest in communicating with in the first place. “Oh, you will,” the Countess smirked. “If you wish for your friend to know his heritage, you will suffer the consequences for your cruelty and intolerance. My patience is thin as is; thin it further, and perhaps I shall simply leave with all the answers he seeks, yes?” “Your patience is thin?” She crossed her arms over her chest. “I’ve been awoken twice this evening. I have had very little rest, and I am forced to entertain a guest I want nothing to do with. Believe me, Countess, I want you here even less than you wish to be here.” Slowly, the Countess began to approach her. “I have lost my birth parents. My adoptive father was murdered by the woman I love. I hid away for a hundred years out of shame, believing my dear Marianna could have been swayed from her course if I had done more for her. And when I am finally given hope that my father can be brought back if only the most powerful woman in this blighted city aids me, you reject and punish me for my honesty. And then! And then my mother casts me out for ‘endangering’ her coven—as if you pose even the slightest threat to us!” The Countess was now directly in front of her, leaning in close and snarling, “So, yes. My patience is thin, and you should tremble as my patience can hold for ages. That you have contributed to it fraying is perhaps the only impressive feat to your name, mortal.” “Alright, break it up.” Macavity sighed as he returned with an armful of folded clothes. “There’s a bathroom right around the corner from here you can change in.” “Thank you very much, Mister Macavity,” the Countess huffed as she grabbed the clothes and made her way out of the room. “It is good to know there is at least one civilized mortal here.” As soon as the woman was out of the room, Jemima let out an irritated groan. “Must I truly endure her a moment longer? Pinch me, Macavity. This must be a nightmare.” “Can I be completely frank, boss?” She whipped her head towards him in utter disbelief. “Surely you do not mean to tell me you pity her?” “The fact of the matter is she came to us, offering literally anything to get her dad back. She’s got some sort of magic, she’s got those bodyguards who must be in on this, she’s got a whole family of people like her and maybe even the folks back in Silberstadt on her side. With that kind of power backing us, we could’ve probably gotten this city in line, drove Aurelio out, found Minerva in minutes…” Macavity shook his head. “But we had a knee-jerk reaction. Now we’re paying the price for it. Like winning the lottery but throwing away the ticket cuz you didn’t realize you had the winning number.” “She is a vampire,” Jemima hissed. She knew he was right, but she loathed knowing she’d made a mistake. Mistakes were for amateurs, which she was far from being. “Have you considered that, perhaps, it is better for her father to remain dead? Who knows what danger he possesses? I presume he is a vampire as well, after all.” “Yeah. And it stands to reason the ones after her family are, too. So we have all these vampires in the city, and none of them are on our side. But we’ve managed to royally piss off the one who knows something about Ryo’s family and maybe what exactly Dawn and Cold have to do with him.” He held up his hands apologetically. “All I’m saying is we could have navigated this situation better, and we’re reaping what we sowed now.” Defensively, she retorted, “Perhaps she should have been honest with me from the beginning.” “Maybe,” he shrugged. “All things considered, how we reacted is probably why she wasn’t.” Though he had a point, she wondered if she would have accepted the truth differently if she had been told the first night they’d met. She mentally placed herself in that moment, imagining the Countess had, in fact, told her the truth. Considering she was surrounded by others, she would have likely attempted to hide her fear in order to appear collected and professional. The choice to confess in the privacy of her home gave her a sense of comfort in expressing her true thoughts and feelings. Perhaps I did overact just a little, she sheepishly admitted to herself. But how else was one supposed to act when they discovered a potential ally was a powerful supernatural being that wasn’t supposed to exist? Still, the woman chose to lie and hide her true nature, and that was something she couldn’t ignore. With a tired sigh, Jemima said, “You know how I feel about liars.” “Then you are in luck, as I speak nothing but the truth,” the Countess interjected haughtily as she returned with the dry clothes on and a towel around her head. “It is hardly unreasonable that I did not speak of things you did not need to know.” Annoyance ignited once more, Jemima cooly replied, “I would have much preferred all cards presented upon our first meeting.” “The less you knew, the better,” the Countess replied in kind. “I told you the facts as you would accept them; there was no need to ignite the paranoia that consumes our kind—humans, that is to say—when we regain the long-forgotten truth of this world.” “And see where that has left you?” Jemima scolded the Countess, feeling like she was finally starting to regain the upper hand between them. The Countess seemed to deflate at this, and instead of sniping once more she silently took a seat on the couch. She blankly and miserably stared off into the distance. Jemima and Macavity exchanged confused frowns at the Countess’s sudden change in attitude. Instead of feeling like she’d finally won this argument, she instead felt a sense of pity for the Countess. Pity? For a lying monster of the night? Unsure what to do or say, Jemima moved to sit down in an armchair adjacent to the couch, crossing her legs at the ankles. She cautiously watched the Countess, who was nearly as still as a statue. What was going through her mind? Had Jemima struck a nerve? The living room became uncomfortably quiet as everyone seemed to be at a loss for words. The rain and a low-rumbling thunder in the distance were the only sounds to be heard. After what seemed like an eternity, Macavity finally broke the silence. “Look… boss, I know you want Ryo to sleep, but I think maybe we should rip off the bandage, yeah? No sense in prolonging this if you don’t want to.” Jemima shook her head. “He was beyond exhausted and erratic. He needs the rest.” “Well… What shall we do, then?” he asked. “Want me to get some tea on?” “Coffee,” she corrected. If she was going to stay up, then she needed something stronger. “Alright. Uh, you want some as well, Countess?” he asked. She silently nodded in response, and Macavity took off to complete his task. Jemima folded her hands in her lap and watched the Countess curiously. She appeared dejected with her head drooped. She was also oddly quiet. Though Jemima had only known the woman a short time, it was enough to know this was entirely out of character for her. A twinge of guilt made itself known in Jemima’s stomach. Regardless of the fact that she was a vampire, Nadia seemed very human. Her mind flitted back to the brief time she’d spent with the countess before she’d learned the truth. The conversations they’d shared, the personal connections they’d made… Jemima felt all the anger seeping out of her as she regarded the Countess's sullen appearance. Perhaps I overreacted. Perhaps the Countess was not the monster she’d once believed. Jemima had become acquainted with a variety of evils over the past decade, and none had ever made an effort to truly get to know who Jemima Mathers was like the Countess had. Making amends for the way she’d treated the Countess for the past several hours would be next to impossible, but she knew she owed it to the woman. She wasn’t the best at righting her wrongs, but she had to start somewhere. Clearing her throat, Jemima commented, “I hadn’t realized how hard it was raining outside.” “It is quite miserable. I had forgotten how harsh the rains of New England can be,” the Countess replied quietly. “Heed my advice and leave before winter. It can be particularly brutal.” “I have been told this. Though I would not mind staying, if I could. A New England winter would be a fresh experience for me. Perhaps I could finally make a snowman.” Surprised, she asked, “In all this time you’ve been alive, you’ve never made a snowman?” “It is so embarrassing, yes?” the Countess laughed, finally lifting her gaze to meet Jemima’s. “268 years alive and I have not done something so simple.” “I didn’t presume you to be a day over twenty-five,” she replied in surprise. No doubt she’d been a fool thinking for a moment the Countess was much younger than she. “Even after you knew the truth? You flatter me.” She sighed. “I did not wish to be trapped in a body too young. My mother, she looks even younger than I, and I did not want that. There is beauty in age, I think.” “I don’t know about that,” Jemima murmured. Her graying hair and soft wrinkles surely diminished her once youthful appearance. The Countess fell silent for a moment. “I did not lie about that, you know. You are a very beautiful woman, more so for your age,” she finally said. Feeling both stunned and flustered, she managed to stammer, “I… Thank you, Countess.” The Countess turned to the floor beneath her once more. “A fortune teller spoke to me as I left Silberstadt. He told me that, on my journey, the most powerful woman in the city would be my family’s salvation… but it may surprise you to know clairvoyance is not often accurate.” With a small sigh, Jemima softly replied, “Perhaps he was not entirely incorrect.” The Countess lifted her head slowly and gave her a curious look. “Hmm?” With a long sigh, one that released all of the anger she’d been tightly holding on to all evening, she explained, “I could still assist you. But first, I need to know the truth.” With a stern gaze, she added, “The whole truth.” “Shall I fill in the blanks where I previously omitted truths, then?” “I believe that would be a good place to start.” The Countess took a deep breath. “It is true I am from Palestine, that I did not know my birth father, and that I did know my birth mother. What was unsaid is that my birth was in the middle of the 18th century… My birth mother I did not know was my birth mother until after I was turned, believing her merely to be one of my father’s students. My birth father… he fell in with a bad group, and was murdered for not surrendering me to them. The first attempt on my life was when I was seven months old.” “Heavens,” she breathed, shaking her head sympathetically. “They were different times back then, weren’t they?” “Yes and no. The wickedness that tried to claim my life is eternal, so they say…” She shook her head. “Mother and Father fought for my life, and then raised me. I did not lie about them, though I neglected to tell you my father’s name… it is Count Amalric Dracula.” As though a lightswitch flipped in her brain, Jemima gasped with realization. “The photograph,” she whispered. That had been a name written on the back. “Indeed, he is in it… You can see he is nothing like that vile book Mr. Stoker was tricked into writing. He was a kind, intelligent, and sensitive man. Or is,” she added, “as such is another half-truth. He was killed in body, but his soul lives on in a ring.” “You know how impossible that sounds, yes?” Jemima said slowly. “The dead are dead. There is no coming back.” “Yes, this is in fact the case normally,” the Countess agreed, surprisingly. “But there are ways to prevent this. Blood magic is one such way, and this ring was crafted by a powerful enchantress who uses just such magic. And so father has rested in that ring since his demise in 1890.” “This is much to process on so little sleep,” Jemima mumbled, lifting a hand to rub her forehead. “Perhaps I should not speak of Marianna’s mother then, yes?” the Countess admitted sheepishly. “Such a thing may be far too much at this time.” “I mean, maybe coffee’ll help,” Macavity muttered as he returned carrying a tray with a pot of coffee, a carton of cream, a bowl of sugar, and three mugs on it. “Damndest thing… The other guys who saw you in Countess, they didn’t think anything of your little trick with the doorway, and even hearing some of what you’re saying they just laughed it off. One of them thinks you’re on drugs.” Feeling quite irritated by this information, Jemima stated in a volume loud enough that she hoped her eavesdropping employees heard, “Then perhaps they may find themselves without a job if they cannot take it seriously.” “Ah, do not judge them so harshly,” the Countess laughed, waving her hand. “Unless given incontrovertible proof as I did to you, your brain will try and rationalize away the supernatural.” “That may be true,” she agreed, “but I expect professionalism from those I employ. Disrespecting a guest is something I will not tolerate.” “Ah, do not fire them on my account! Merely tell them I was in distress from being rendered homeless and have them apologize. Now, drink your coffee, for the truth of my family’s foe is too much otherwise.” “Very well,” she yielded. She stood from her armchair and poured herself a cup from the tray Macavity had since set down on the coffee table in front of the couch. She carefully mixed two spoonfuls of sugar and a dollop of cream into her beverage. Once she was seated once more, she nodded at the Countess, who was also preparing herself a mug. “Continue once you are ready.” The Countess returned to her own seat and gingerly took a sip of coffee. “It was the truth that Marianna was manipulated by her mother into harming my father; I left out, as you may guess, that Marianna is herself a vampire. As for her adoptive mother…” She hesitated for a moment before slowly saying, “She created our kind… thousands of years ago, in a bid to save her children from death… but she is not herself a vampire. She is an angel.” “I beg your pardon?” she blinked. Surely the Countess had to realize how outlandish that sounded? An angel created vampires? “Glad I didn’t sip my coffee yet,” Macavity muttered. “Might’ve choked on it.” “It is the truth, as bizarre as it sounds,” the Countess insisted. “It surely clashes with your preconceived notions of what entails an angel… but do I not also clash with what you expect of a vampire? I sleep in a bed as opposed to a coffin, I walk in the sunlight without issue, I am no undead being, and I am quite fond of garlic.” “How precisely did this occur?” she slowly asked, unsure if she was truly prepared to hear the answer. “The… creating the vampires, that is.” “As I understand it, she combined the venom she was born able to create with chronomancy—time magic, that is to say. It freezes us in time, and bestows upon us blessings and burdens representing her existence in a symbolic sense. I am told all things angels create have the essence of themselves in it.” As expected, she was struggling to comprehend what she’d been told. “I’m sorry, but did you say an angel has venom?” “This one does, yes. In my childhood, she told tales of ones who could throw lightning like spears, wreathe themselves in flame, or move faster than the wind.” She shrugged. “They are as varied as any other being, I imagine.” Jemima was astounded and overwhelmed to discover there was much she didn’t know, and she was certain this was just the beginning. Though it made her feel a tad shaken, she was rather curious about the unknown. “Countess, as we are waiting for Mr. Amano to awaken, perhaps you can tell me all I do not know about you, your family, and all I am unaware of.” “Ah, I do hope he sleeps in, then,” she laughed softly, “because there is much to speak of. Shall I begin with the stories of my father’s youth, then?” “I think that would be a fine place to start,” Jemima agreed. As the Countess said, there was much to be told. Jemima listened to stories about Count Dracula and how he met his betrothed. She learned all about the Countess’s childhood and how she met her former lover. She was educated about absolutely everything the Countess could think to share about vampirism, from the turning process to their individual powers. She was cautiously informed about her father’s coven living in ruins in the city while they tried to restore the Count to his former physical form. It wasn’t until the sun came up and two pots of coffee were emptied that their very long conversation was interrupted by Ryo entering the living room. “Good morning, Mr. Amano,” Jemima greeted, finishing her sixth cup of coffee that morning. “I trust you slept well?” “Like a baby,” he yawned as he glanced towards the Countess. “So… I, uh, don’t actually know where to begin.” Gesturing towards the couch with a yawn herself, Jemima said, “Perhaps with what the Countess knows about your father?” Ryo wasted no time sitting down next to the Countess, that almost childlike excitement returning to him as he stared eagerly at her. With a gentle smile, the Countess said, “Seeing you now, really seeing you… it is plain to me you are Amadeus’s son.” “So you did know him!” Ryo exclaimed (a little too loudly for Jemima’s liking). “Indeed,” the Countess nodded. “And the truth may come easier to you, as you share his blood. As he was a vampire, you are what is called a dhampyr.” “Ha!” Ryo leapt off the couch. “I knew it! Well, I knew something, but this makes it all make sense!” He paused, sinking slowly back down onto the couch. “Okay, actually, this is… crazy. Even if it makes sense, it’s crazy.” “Give your brain time to process it,” Jemima told him gently. She, of all people, would know. After a few minutes of silence, which both the Countess and Jemima took advantage of to fetch a fresh cup of coffee, he gave a slight nod. “Okay. Tell me about him.” “Amadeus Zephyr,” the Countess began, “was a brilliant man and a kind one, as well. He was skilled in making clocks, and equally skilled in magic; he was a natural at spellcasting. But his greatest strength was his heart. He befriended so many… Myself, my dear friends Roland and Marishka, Grigori Rasputin—the very one you are thinking of, yes—and a very bitter woman named Camilla—“ “Aunt Camilla is a fucking vampire too?” Ryo exclaimed. “Heavens,” Jemima breathed. “I believe it would be more beneficial to question who is not a vampire, yes?” “He would keep in touch with her, but not my sister?” the Countess muttered to herself. “I’m gonna guess your sister is the one with my dad in the picture,” Ryo mumbled, “but I’ve never met her. I’ve never seen her, and she’s not my mom.” “That is the curious thing. He loved my sister with all his heart, and everyone around them could see they were meant to be… I simply do not understand why he would pursue another, start a family… It is unlike him.” “Perhaps he was not as faithful as you believed,” Jemima softly suggested. “Perhaps,” the Countess miserably agreed. “Perhaps during their separations, he found he felt more strongly about another… Perhaps I merely did not know him as well as I imagined…” “Jesus,” Ryo breathed, “what the fuck, dad? It’s like I hardly knew him at all…” The man glanced nervously towards the Countess. “Is he… Is he dead?” “I cannot say… I only know he was last seen in Cairo, visiting a group known as the Acolytes of Ra. They were massacred, and he was not among those who found their way to Silberstadt. And yet I cannot imagine one who could stop time itself would fall victim even to my family’s enemy.” Jemima felt her heart sink on Ryo’s behalf. Turning her gaze towards him, she said, “I am so, so sorry, Mr. Amano…” “No,” Ryo snapped, “no, he can’t be—my watch!” Once more, Ryo leapt off the couch and pulled out his pocket watch. “You heard Nadia! My dad, he could stop time! That’s what happened earlier! And the ticking, it… it must mean he’s alive somewhere!” “If you mean to go to Cairo, I’m afraid I won’t be able to help you,” Jemima told him matter-of-factly before sipping her coffee. “He wouldn’t still be there, he’s not—he wouldn’t hide in Egypt for ten fucking years! But we need to find him! I want to know if he was in on it, if he knew about my sister, if he knew Goldie, if—“ He sputtered and grabbed his head, letting out a frustrated growl. “What is this he speaks of?” the Countess asked. “He is filled with discord over something his father may have done?” Jemima hesitated. “It… is a bit complicated. Mr. Amano, perhaps I can give you two time to talk alone?” “I think that might be best, yes? Mr. Amano must catch up, and you and Mr. Macavity—“ She gestured to the man in question, who was snoring softly in the armchair “—both are in need of sleep. I have burdened you with knowledge long enough for one day.” “Very well,” she nodded. “Shall you need anything, send for one of the two guarding the room to fetch me from my bedroom. I will also prepare a room for you, Countess, assuming you need somewhere to stay?” She raised an eyebrow expectantly. “I would appreciate such a thing… I will need to rest after explaining things to Mr. Amano.” “Of course. For your convenience, I will have the room next to his ready for you as I trust he will be able to show you to it.” She quickly finished the contents in her mug and stood up. Setting the empty cup on the tray Macavity had brought in hours earlier, she gently nudged her bodyguard’s arm. “You’re officially off-the-clock.” Her bodyguard immediately twitched awake. “Crap, sorry boss. What I miss? Think I dozed off around the time the Countess’s parents were hunting Confederates…” Smiling gently, Jemima assured him, “I will fill you in later.” The two left the living room in higher spirits than they’d entered it with. “Report to me tomorrow at…” She trailed off and pulled her phone out of her pants pocket to glance at the time. “…8:11 A.M.” “I’ll let the team know we’re rescheduling the meeting with Mr. Wake to tomorrow, then,” he yawned. “Afternoon might be best…Hope he’s not the kind of guy to hide in on the 30th.” “I won’t give him the opportunity,” she replied with a sly smirk. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” Before retiring to her bedroom, she gave the two employees outside the living room strict directions to see to it that the Countess’s and Mr. Amano’s needs were taken care of. She also tasked another of her staff to prepare a bedroom next to Ryo’s for the Countess. Once all of her meetings for the day were canceled, she redressed herself in her sleep attire and crawled into bed. Despite the several cups of caffeinated coffee she drank, Jemima was quite tired. I haven’t stayed up all night since I was in my twenties. How unusual that the Countess makes an older woman feel young again, she thought to herself with amusement right before falling fast asleep, a sleep well-deserved after such a long night. ****** When Aiden awoke the next morning, he was pleasantly surprised to find Eric’s fingers still intertwined with his. They’d fallen asleep in this way, with Aiden’s arm dangling over the end of his bed to reach his boyfriend’s hand. He smiled to himself. He’d missed Eric (even if he hadn’t wanted to admit it) during their “break”. As much as he wanted to stay that way until Eric woke up, he knew he needed to get dressed. Carefully crawling out of bed so he wouldn’t wake the sleeping man, Aiden grabbed fresh clothes and his binder and slipped out of his bedroom and into the bathroom. If it hadn’t been extremely unsafe to fall asleep with it on, he would’ve worn his binder all night for his own comfort. He’d never had it off around Eric before, not that his boyfriend had minded. He was unconditionally supportive, which made Aiden love him even more. When he crept back into his bedroom with his jeans and a black X-Men t-shirt—he’d never read the comics, but Prim insisted it was a cool shirt that he needed for his wardrobe—Eric was still asleep, so Aiden laid down on the floor to his left. He didn’t have a pillow to put under his head, so he laid his head on the ground. A few peaceful minutes of this went by until Eric, eyes still closed, murmured, “Sweetie, that doesn’t seem too comfortable… Why not lay your head on my chest?” “Are you sure you don’t mind?” he asked. “Of course I don’t. Besides, I haven’t seen you in days. I have a lot of cuddling to catch up on.” Aiden didn’t need to be told twice. He shifted his position on the floor to lay his head on Eric’s chest and wrapped his arm around the man’s middle. “I’ve been living in this city for 17 years now, and I don’t think I’ve ever been happier than right now,” Eric sighed contentedly. “I’ve been here longer,” he teased. Then a curious thought popped into his mind. “Do you think we ever saw each other when I was a kid?” “Hmm… It’s possible. I wouldn’t remember if we did, though. I see too many strangers in crowds with my job to keep track of everyone I run into.” “Oh. Yeah, I guess that’s true. I, um, haven’t ever been to a wedding, anyway.” Even if he had and they had met, would Aiden even have remembered Eric years later? “You probably wouldn’t have recognized me anyway,” he added after a brief moment of silence. “I, um, have brown hair naturally, not black.” “I have a hard time imagining you with brown hair,” Eric laughed softly. “Black suits you.” “Thanks,” he whispered with a bashful smile. The two snuggled together on the floor for a long while, both content to share the closeness in silence. When Aiden heard his mother leaving her bedroom and slowly descending the staircase, he knew it was time to start moving. “So, um… Do you have any plans for today?” “Well, I did say I’d make you and your mother breakfast, and Victoria is probably going to kill me when I get home. But between those things? Completely free.” He gave a cheerful wink before adding, “I do want to try calling my friend Astarte, at least. I’m just unsure if she’s in Hell or not right now.” Aiden blinked while he tried to process the last sentence. “In… Hell?” “Yes, that’s where her family lives. She’s a succubus, which… I probably should have mentioned first since I haven’t shown you the pictures yet.” “Oh.” He knew he shouldn’t be surprised considering the mere fact vampires existed, but it still surprised him regardless. “I brought a photo album, but maybe this should wait until after breakfast… There is a lot of explaining to do there.” Aiden laughed before he could stop himself. “You brought over a whole album?” “Yes,” Eric admitted sheepishly. “I thought if you really didn’t know if you could trust me, I’d show you the pictures of an incredible, top secret event I was at. I’m not supposed to tell anyone, so it would mean a lot…” He laughed awkwardly and added, “Wow, that sounds kind of lame when I say it out loud.” “No, it’s really sweet,” he reassured the man. “Can I see it?” “Yes, absolutely. No sense making you sit in suspense through breakfast. Just grab it out of my bag over there.” Aiden stood up and fetched Eric’s bag, which had been left by the door. Digging inside, he quickly found the photo album and pulled it out. “I can look through it while you cook, if you want.” “Alright, but don’t show your mother. I really don’t think she’s ready to find out angels and demons are real.” “Oh, don’t worry,” he reassured him quietly. “Mom usually spends the day on the couch.” He offered his free hand to help his boyfriend up. “Do you, um, need to borrow clothes? I don’t know if we wear the same size, but I can see what I have.” “I did get a little sweaty running here,” his boyfriend admitted. “Or maybe it was the nerves. I’d appreciate a change, if you can find something.” With a nod, he moved to his dresser. His wardrobe almost solely consisted of t-shirts and a few pairs of jeans. “What size shirt do you wear?” he asked while ruffling through the folded shirts that were anything but neat. “Extra large.” He paused and winced, hesitantly lifting his head to look in Eric’s direction. “I wear medium.” “I could probably squeeze into that.” His boyfriend closed the distance between them and put his hand gently against his cheek, leaning in close with a suggestive smirk. “It'll be a bit tight, is all.” “Oh, um…” Aiden knew he was blushing by the way his face burned when his brain tried to conjure up an image of Eric wearing his navy blue “Class of 2015” t-shirt. “Maybe we should wait until later to get you all hot and bothered. I’ll deal with wearing my Purple Rain shirt.” “Y-Yeah, okay.” They left his bedroom and went downstairs where his mom was, as expected, watching television. When she heard them approaching, she stood up and smiled at them. “Good morning, boys.” “Morning, Mom,” Aiden robotically answered back. His mom had gotten dressed without his help for the first time in a very long time, leaving him feeling stunned. “Good morning,” Eric waved cheerfully. “I hope you’re hungry because I’m going to go make us all breakfast!” “Oh, how sweet of you!” She seemed so much more alive than she had in years, further shocking Aiden. “It’s the least I can do considering you let me stay the night.” His mom stared at Eric sternly. “Didn’t you hear the thunder last night? I would have been cruel to send you out in that weather, not to mention alone at night.” Aiden noticed a flash of fear cross her face very briefly. “Well, regardless, I want to pay you back in some small way. I hope you don’t mind me borrowing your son to keep me company, though.” “Not at all.” Her eyes flitted to Aiden, and her smile grew. “I’m just glad he’s finally found someone to make him happy.” Aiden felt his cheeks sizzling for the second time that morning. “Um, we’ll be in the kitchen, Mom,” he mumbled, hurriedly rushing Eric into the small room that once doubled as a dining room. Whoever had designed the house hadn’t given anyone who wanted to cook much space as there was maybe three feet between the sink and counters and where the wall dividing the kitchen and the living room was built. It was a miracle that his mom had been able to squeeze a small square table and chairs in the room at all (though the open space by the door to the back porch definitely helped a little bit). Perhaps even worse was the placement of the fridge. The white appliance was to the left of the kitchen doorway, meaning no one could enter the room if someone happened to be standing with the refrigerator door open. Whoever had put together the kitchen definitely didn’t have families in mind despite the fact that the house had three bedrooms and was probably made with the intention of selling it to a family. Pointing at the fridge, Aiden said, “I think we have some eggs and bacon in there. They were on sale two weeks ago, so I thought I’d pick some up.” “I can work with that,” Eric nodded as he headed to the fridge. “How do you two like your eggs? And do you have pancake mix, by chance?” “Um…” He set the photo album on the table and started searching through the cupboards that held dry goods. They were mostly home to boxes of pasta, forgotten bags of chips, or containers of cookies he was rationing so they would last as long as possible. To his surprise, there was a box of pancake mix at the back of the middle shelf. When did I buy this? he wondered in surprise as he grabbed the box. “You’re in luck,” he smiled, presenting his cardboard trophy. “It’s you and your mom who are in luck, because you’re about to have the best pancakes a man from Maine could possibly make!” With a wink, Eric took the mix from him and began flitting about the kitchen, pausing only to ask where bowls and utensils were. Soon enough, the smell of pancake batter and cooking bacon permeated the small room as Aiden sat down at the table with the photo album. “Let me know if you have any questions about those photos,” Eric said from in front of the stove. “I’m probably going to have to come clean about a lot, so just a heads up.” What could that mean? Feeling a tad apprehensive, Aiden opened the photo album. The first page showed Eric with Prim and a woman and man he guessed were the man’s parents. Eric looked about the same age he was now albeit with a different haircut. Looking closer at his parents brought a small smile to Aiden’s face. Eric looked almost exactly like his mother, though he definitely had his father’s nose. The second page had two more pictures of him with Prim as well as two with a woman with pink hair. She looked oddly familiar, but Aiden couldn’t quite place where he’d seen her before. “Who is that?” he asked, placing his finger on one of the photographs. “That’s Mimi Shipton, my sire,” Eric sighed wistfully. “She saved our lives, Prim and I’s… I miss her alot. Seventeen years and I still haven’t found a trace of her here in Rhine.” “Is she here?” Maybe she looked familiar because he had seen her somewhere. “She was. She came here to visit this girl she’d been writing to back in 2000, but she never came back. Prim and I got some help from the Sons of Salem, but they were never able to figure it out; she’d just… vanished. We moved in with Victoria’s coven to keep an eye out, but yeah.” “I’m sorry,” he said with sincerity. He wanted to offer to help, but he had no idea how to accomplish that. “I know she’s out there somewhere. Maybe after all this nonsense with the vampire killers, I can get back to looking. My former Silverwing bodyguard, Marina, said she’d be happy to help; might even give her inspiration for that rap album she’s doing.” He turned and flashed a playful smirk. “I bet you thought I was joking the first time I mentioned that.” “Yeah,” he sheepishly admitted. He turned his attention back to the photo album and flipped the page again. He was confronted by a photo of Eric standing with the most eclectic group of people he had ever seen; almost all of them were dressed in bizarre outfits. He wasn’t sure who looked the oddest: the girl dressed like a mime, the clown girl, the man in a overly glittery suit on roller skates, the rather smug-looking man in a Hawaiian shirt and sunglasses, or the wizard lookalike in a dark blue and black robe. Eric stood among them, though he stood out like a sore thumb with his rather normal attire. “Who are they?” Aiden asked, feeling bad about interrupting the man while he was cooking. Eric turned around and grimaced. “Those are the Sons of Salem, the most colorful cast of wizards you could ever meet and the East coast’s personal hunter group. That was from the Hunter’s Moon festival they threw six years ago.” “Wizards?” he echoed, his eyes widening. “Like… magic?” His boyfriend nodded. “I love how you still get surprised by all this. It’s so refreshing, honestly.” “I guess it’s just hard to believe all this stuff is real.” He leaned back in his chair. “I grew up being told that magic and vampires and angels are all fantasy, but now I’m finding out it’s all real. It’s almost hard to process.” Which was the truth. He felt like the world he was living in was partially a lie. “I promise, I’m trying to ease you in as much as possible.” His amused smile quickly turned into an anxious frown. “Anyway. I have quite a lot of friends in that group from my 17 years knowing them, but, um… Well, I made a lot of them the same way.” “What do you mean?” “By sleeping with them,” he mumbled sheepishly. Heat prickled up the back of Aiden’s neck. “Oh.” An awkward silence fell between them, though it was filled by the sizzling of the pan as Eric continued to cook. It was the past, Aiden reminded himself. Eric wasn’t like that anymore. He inhaled slowly and peered at the picture again, examining each of the people posed in it. Had he really had sex with each and every one of them? I know he said he doesn’t mind waiting, but… He felt the insecurities that had rumbled in his mind and stomach the entire time the two were apart returning as if back from a brief vacation. Eric turned and looked at him intensely before looking back at the stove. “If it makes you feel any better, I’ve only slept with three of the people in that picture. One was 17 years ago, and one stalked me for a while.” He wasn’t going to admit it to Eric, but Aiden felt a rush of relief followed by mild guilt. Eric had probably seen right through his stony expression a moment ago. “Oh. I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying to judge you for it or anything.” “I know you weren’t. I just… I know it’s not the most fun thing to hear, but I want to make sure I don’t wind up alienated from you again. I think the awkwardness of you knowing I’ve slept with a lot of my friends at least once is better than the agony of being apart from you.” He paused for a moment. “It was the mime girl, by the way. She stalked me.” “What? Really?” His eyes flitted to the mime. She didn’t look like a stalker, but what was a stalker really supposed to look like? “Yeah. She got really clingy after we had some fun around Christmas, and it got to the point where she kept hanging around my parent’s house at night. She got into a fight with Prim, and Lazarus—the robed guy I’m standing next to in that photo—had to step in and handle things. He couldn’t get rid of her because her father provides a lot of funding to the group, but he made it clear he wasn’t going to tolerate this.” Eric inhaled deeply. “Mmm, this bacon is coming along well.” Admittedly, the aroma of fresh greasy, salty bacon was making Aiden’s stomach growl. It had been quite some time since he’d had something other than cereal or oatmeal for breakfast. “I’m sorry you had to deal with that. I can’t imagine how annoying that must have been.” Eric shrugged. “It is what it is, and the problem’s mostly resolved. Andrew—he’s the one with the roller skates—is her superior now and keeps her away when I visit.” He quickly scooped the bacon out of the pan and plopped it onto a plate lined with a paper towel he had sitting nearby. “Andrew’s one of the three. So is Lazarus. Actually, believe it or not, my night together with Lazarus was how I met Astarte and how I got to go to a very special wedding.” His interest piqued, he turned in the chair so he was facing Eric (though the view was of his backside, not that he particularly minded). “There’s a story there, right?” “Is there ever!” Eric laughed. He poured some batter onto the pan, a satisfying sizzle sounding out as he did so. “Prim and I were visiting my parents up in Bedlam after getting set up with the coven here, and we went out to our favorite bar. We’re about six drinks in when this guy walks up and offers to buy me a round. He was pretty stunning. I don’t know if you can tell from the photo, but Lazarus has heterochromia. One blue eye, one green eye.” “Really?” He turned his attention back to the photo, looking closer at the man he now knew was Lazarus, but he couldn’t distinguish any eye colors. “Yes, and I don’t think I’d seen a guy like that before. He told me he was the new head of the Sons of Salem and he’d heard a lot about me, so he wanted to get to know me better. One thing led to another and, well…” Eric cleared his throat awkwardly. “The next morning he asked me if I’d like to come to a wedding as his plus one. I told him only if Prim could come too, and he said sure as long as we both promised to keep this wedding a secret.” “A secret?” Aiden echoed, watching Eric’s back again. “It was a union that had never happened before in recorded history: An angel and a demon. Go ahead and turn to the back, the pictures from the wedding are there.” Aiden did just that, flipping through page after page of photographs he hadn’t yet looked at until something very bizarre caught his eye. It was just as Eric had said: A woman with brilliant feathered wings the color of coffee heavily laced with cream was gazing into the eyes of what Aiden guessed was the demon. It was a being with a goat’s head with dark, charcoal-colored fur and red goat-like eyes but with the body of a human. The shoulders were broad and covered with a beautifully woven plum shawl. He felt guilty for immediately wondering how someone could possibly be attracted to them, but he supposed the world of angels and demons were entirely unique. They were likely used to what he considered an oddity. “Baphomet and Amity… To this day, I’ve never seen a wedding as moving as theirs,” Eric sighed. “That was the first wedding I ever sang at. It was a last-minute thing, but apparently it was the plan all along. Lazarus has oracular powers, and he saw I’d save the wedding twice in one day. Me singing was the second save of the day.” “What was the first?” “Well… That’s how I met Astarte, actually.” Eric turned around, a sheepish look on his face again. “So she’s a succubus, and she feeds off of people’s anger and frustration in addition to the… er, usual. But if she gets hungry, she gets really pissy, and there wasn’t a lot of irritation at the wedding obviously… So I had to, uh… go calm her down.” Aiden was confused. “Calm her down?” “Sex,” Eric sighed. “Oh,” he mumbled. “Right.” “If it makes you feel better, that was a one-time thing, too. I’m not her type.” Eric rubbed the back of his head nervously. “If I hadn't done that, she would’ve had a meltdown and ruined the wedding, so Lazarus said.” “So you’re kind of a hero, huh?” he joked, offering a small smile. “I guess so,” Eric laughed in reply. “But yes, that’s how I met Astarte and went to the most moving wedding ever. Don’t tell anyone about the wedding, though. There are a lot of people who would be very upset by their marriage, apparently.” “Why?” “Angels and demons don’t like each other very much, and Baphomet’s dad is apparently not a very nice guy either. If the truth got out, they and their child would be in danger.” “A child? How… did that work, exactly?” he cautiously inquired. The last thing he wanted to do was come off as offensive, but he was burning with curiosity. “I didn’t think it appropriate to ask at their wedding,” Eric chuckled as he turned back to the pancakes on the stove. “Maybe you can ask Astarte. She might know, and I wanted to call her and introduce you today anyway.” “Oh, uh…” He shifted nervously in his seat and looked at the wedding pictures again to try and distract himself from the awkwardness he was sure was one-sided. “Okay.” “She’s going to love you, I promise. She would try and set me up with strangers every time she visited. She gets that from her mom, I think.” Aiden nodded his head, but didn’t say anything as he stared at a picture of the angel and the demon dancing. In the background, he could see Eric singing in a rather flattering suit. It was one time. They’re just friends now. Like with Lilith. Although, were they actually friends? Did Lilith want that? Or was it too weird considering what had happened? Would Eric even want that? He seemed more relaxed about his former flings, so maybe it would be okay if the three of them hung out again sometime. He could feel Eric’s hand gently grasp his shoulder. “Sweetie. I know this is a lot. But I’ve never felt the way I do about you with any of them. They were just fun; you’re what I want for the long run. And I promise I’ll do whatever it takes to make us work.” “I know,” he quietly replied. There was a gentle squeeze. “If you go back a bit, there’s some pictures of Prim, Astarte, and I hanging out. Unless you’d rather look at those two all day. I wouldn’t blame you; they’re a lovely couple.” He murmured in agreement before flipping back a few pages, stopping only when he saw Prim posing with Eric and another woman he guessed was Astarte. Taking it in, he realized it was one of the pictures Prim had shown him when they’d hung out a few days prior. “To try and call her before or after we eat,” Eric said as he set a plate piled with pancakes down onto the table. “That’s the real question.” “After,” Aiden answered, his eyes glued to the photo. “Well then, let’s eat! Will your mom come out here, or shall I bring them out to her?” He finally lifted his head and stopped looking at the picture album. “She probably won't come out here, honestly.” “To the living room it is!” Eric piled pancakes and bacon onto two glass plates, carefully balancing them in both hands. “Do you mind making me a plate, sweetie? I would but… Well, my hands are full.” “Sure.” He left the album abandoned on the table and hurried to fill a plate with what was left of the bacon and pancakes, carefully topping the flapjacks with butter before joining Eric and his mom in the living room. “This is so kind of you!” he heard his mom saying as she took her plate. “These look delicious!” “Hopefully they taste half as good as they look!” Eric replied cheerfully. The living room fell silent as the three began to eat. The television, which was playing a movie about a middle-aged man who lost his memory, was the only sound to be heard aside from the occasional squeal when a fork slid against its glass plate. Aiden was surprised by how scrumptious the pancakes were. He’d never been a huge fan of them, even as a kid, but he had a feeling he could quickly get used to Eric’s should the man take it upon himself to make them more often. He could probably be a cook if he wanted to, he thought to himself with amusement. “Hey, don’t feel bad I took the smallest portion,” Eric whispered. “I finished the rest of my thermos before you woke up, so I’m not super hungry.” “Are you sure?” he timidly replied, feeling guilty for not realizing how much smaller Eric’s plate was compared to his. “Absolutely. I find more joy in cooking for others than eating my own cooking anyway.” “Thank you,” he smiled shyly. Once again, he wondered how he got so lucky to be picked by someone so absolutely amazing. “This,” Aiden’s mom said, completely unaware of their exchange, “is some of the best breakfast food I’ve ever eaten.” “You can thank my father for that,” Eric said. “He hates pancakes, but he knows how to make them better than anyone else, and he taught me his secrets.” “You might have to teach my son.” She smirked teasingly at Aiden. “I could get used to eating this instead of instant oatmeal everyday.” “Mom…” he groaned, trying to hide his embarrassment. “Ugh, is that what you’re feeding her?” Eric teased. “You’ll have to come over to my place so I can teach you how to make something a lot more satisfying.” “Please do!” his mom laughed, continuing to poke fun. “Mom, I’m just trying to get us by on the food stamps money,” he pointed out. “I know,” she sighed. “I can help you shop,” Eric offered. “I have a lot of money sitting around that I don’t have much use for. I’d be happy to buy you some things to make your meals a little better.” “You don’t have to do that,” Aiden nervously mumbled. He felt guilty about talking about their money situation with Eric. He hadn’t meant to make it seem like they needed help. His mother, on the other hand, softly replied, “That’s so very kind of you.” Eric ran his hand through his hair. “I know that seems so forward and all, but… I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone like your son before, and I want to do everything I can for him and for you. I’ve had a bit of a rough time these past few years, and Aiden is a bright spot in it. The brightest, even.” Aiden’s mom held a hand to her chest. “You two must be made for each other because I think this is the first time in years I’ve seen him smile.” Aiden’s face burned, and he shifted uncomfortably on the couch. He was relieved his mom was supportive of his relationship, but did she have to humiliate him? Eric reached out and laced their fingers together. “Sorry. I think I’m being a bit too mushy for this time of day.” “Not at all,” his mom insisted. “It’s nice for things to be light in here for a change.” Aiden glanced at his mom and saw the sadness in her eyes behind her outward smile. “Well then, if things at my place calm down, I’ll have to come by here more often and brighten things up,” Eric said gently. That seemed to bring the twinkle back to his mom’s face. She really does like him, Aiden noted. The way his mom accepted Eric so quickly made him appreciate his boyfriend even more. Maybe we really are meant to be together. When they finished eating breakfast, Aiden and Eric took the dirty dishes to the kitchen. Aiden washed the dishes while Eric dried and put them away (which Aiden said he could do himself, but Eric insisted on helping). As it wasn’t blazing hot outside yet since it was still morning and Eric wasn’t ready to go home yet, they decided to sit in the backyard on a blanket together. Aiden smoothed out the green and white checkered plush cotton blanket before they laid down on it, their vision of the clear blue sky blocked by the large oak tree casting shade over them. “I wonder if Andi would approve of you,” he said, thinking out loud. “I hope she would. Maybe I’m just old-fashioned, but I think it’s important your partner’s friends and family like you… Within reason, anyway.” “No, I agree. I’m really glad my mom likes you.” “And I’m glad Prim loves you. And I know my parents are going to adore you. Now I just need to make sure my favorite demon likes you.” He nodded slowly, knowing this was a cue to the phone call Eric had mentioned earlier that morning. He wasn’t sure how he felt about the succubus yet, but he knew it was important to his partner that the two got along. The least he could do was give her a chance. “I just have to pray she was up here last night,” Eric sighed as he pulled out his phone. “I probably should have checked her social media, honestly…” The thought of a demon owning a social media account amused Aiden. “Does she usually visit, um, Earth?” “She comes up here a few nights a month to find prey. Apparently other demons don’t like her kind; they are considered remarkably ugly by their standards of beauty. Luckily, she definitely fits human beauty standards, so she has an easy time finding douchey, easy pickup artists to feed off of.” Eric scrolled through his phone before sitting up and setting the phone down on the blanket. “Bet you never imagined that calling upon a demon would be as easy as just dialing their phone number, huh?” he snorted. “I didn’t really know demons existed until today,” he reminded him with a gentle laugh, sitting up as well and crossing his legs. “Fair enough,” Eric said as he tapped the phone one more time. The sound of ringing emanated from the speakers. “Alright, moment of truth! Will she answer or no?” The phone rang five times before the phone was answered and an irritated voice snapped, “Ok, really? Do you have any idea what time it is? Who the fuck is this?” “Hi Astarte,” Eric said politely. The voice on the other end did a complete one-eighty in tone. “Oh shit, Eric! Hiiiiiiiiiii! Sorry for snapping, I got roofied last night and it gave me one Hell of a headache.” Aiden stared at the phone in surprise. He didn’t know what he’d expected, but it certainly wasn’t a voice and a personality that seemed very human-like. Eric shook his head in amusement. “Oh, that sucks. Is the guy…?” “Dead? Yep! The women in Orlando can sleep a little safer tonight!” Astarte laughed. Aiden glanced at his boyfriend in slight alarm. They seemed so light-hearted about killing a man. I guess that’s the norm for a demon. Eric glanced back. “She only kills really bad guys,” he whispered. “So I haven’t heard from you since… March. What’s new?” “A lot, but one thing in particular.” Eric gestured toward the phone and gave Aiden a slight nod. “Um… H-Hi,” Aiden stuttered nervously. Astarte let out a gasp. “Do my ears deceive me, or is that a cute boy? You didn’t tell me you were on the prowl again! Why didn’t you invite me up, we could’ve gone to bars and found hookups together!” “Actually, this is a bit more serious than that…” “Sweet Lucifer, you got a boyfriend?” Astarte exclaimed. “Uh.. I’m Aiden,” he introduced himself. He felt awkward, and his skin itched with nerves. Was this what it would be like meeting Eric’s parents? “That’s such a cute name! You better send me pictures! Actually, wait, hold on… Are you back home, or are you in that dumpster fire of a city?” “I’m in Rhine, yes.” “Okay, good. I’ll be there in about a week.” Eric blinked. “Pardon?” “Wait, what?” Aiden blurted out at the same time. “Just gotta let mom know where I’m going, get enough energy, and hop on a bus! I gotta meet your boyfriend in person!” She paused. “What does he know?” “He knows everything,” Eric said, “but Astarte, I’m not sure this is a great time, we’re having trouble with an angel and—“ “All the more reason for me to come! Your cute ass and your boyfriend’s ass are going to need protection, and there’s no better protection than a succubus! Besides, I always get good dick up in Rhine City. Massachusetts guys know how to fuck.” Aiden winced uncomfortably. That was way too much information. “Astarte, really, I–” “Already on my way out! Byeeeeeeeeeee! See you soon, Eric and Aiden!” There was a gentle beep as the call ended, followed by Eric letting out an exasperated sigh. “You’re meeting my succubus friend before you meet my parents, I guess. You’re really getting the full experience here. No easing you into the supernatural at all.” “I don’t know if I’m ready for this,” he whispered with heavy hesitation. “Well, think of it this way: If a succubus who is a generally sweet and fun girl as long as she likes you is the worst you have to deal with this summer, I think things will be okay.” He shifted his gaze to the blanket and mumbled, “I think our break was the worst I had to deal with.” Eric laughed softly. “Nothing could be worse than that. And you know what? I think I will feel safer if she’s here.” He turned his head to glance at his boyfriend in surprise. “Is it a good thing she’s coming?” Eric leaned in and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. “We’ll make it work.” Aiden felt his cheek burn delightfully and gave Eric a small, shy smile. “Okay.” Internally, he was still coming to terms with meeting someone else Eric had been with, but he trusted the man wholeheartedly when he said Aiden was the only person he wanted. “Have I ever told you how cute you are when you blush?” Eric purred. “Because you definitely are.” “No, I’m not,” he countered, knowing very well he was turning redder by the second. “You are. I wouldn’t lie to you.” And that was true; he knew that now. Eric would always tell the truth because neither one of them wanted a repeat of the last few days. “I believe you,” he murmured before leaning into the man’s side. “So,” Eric sighed contentedly, “what should we do today? I’d like to do something fun before Victoria kills me.” Aiden thought for a moment. While it would be fun to go somewhere with Eric, like to a movie or to get lunch, he didn’t want to put the man in danger by being in public where he could be found. “What if we just stayed here?” he offered. “I think I’d like that,” Eric grinned. Aiden grinned back. Maybe it was a little selfish of him, but getting his boyfriend all to himself after being apart for a few days sounded like paradise. The two reclined on the blanket again, intertwining their fingers, both content to share the day together. Though they knew Eric would eventually have to go home and face the consequences of escaping for the night, they were determined to make the most of the time they had together. ****** Getting Jojo’s collar removed should have resulted in a joyous celebration, but the after party at a pizzeria was quiet and tense. How could Jojo, Gabby, or Flynn be happy when disaster was about to strike? Gabby wanted to trust her grandmother’s promise to not let Jack hurt Jojo anymore, but she had a gut feeling the man wouldn’t take no for an answer. The trio had spent the night in her room with Flynn on the floor and Jojo curled next to her in bed. Flynn had fallen asleep eventually, but neither she nor Jojo did. She knew his mind was racing just as quickly as hers was. Even with being free of the collar Jack had forced on him, he was still too scared to face the evil man. Gabby couldn’t blame him after what Jojo had told her about him. She’d never even met Jack, but the cruel tone of his voice on the phone the previous day turned her blood cold. She was frightened, too. Gabby and Jojo stayed in bed for hours after the sun rose the next morning. They wanted to let Flynn sleep, but they also knew getting up meant facing the reality that this was their last day before Jack arrived. Eventually, Gabby decided she couldn’t ignore the problem anymore. She had to do something. “I’m going to tell my mom,” she whispered with determination. It had been a recurring thought throughout the night, but she’d continuously pushed it away. Her mom had been so happy that Rhiannon was staying; how could Gabby ruin that? Her mom deserved to finally find joy in her life. But if anyone can help me right now, it’s my mom. “I think that’s for the best,” Jojo mumbled in reply. “Maybe this time…” He went quiet, leaving his sentence unfinished. “Do you want to come with me?” Gabby asked. She didn’t want to leave him alone when he was so scared, but she knew Flynn would protect him if he wasn’t ready to leave the room yet. “I… I can do that.” Quietly, still wearing the same clothes they’d worn the day before, Gabby and her boyfriend crept out of her room so as not to disturb their sleeping friend. The hallway, as expected, was quiet. Considering it was late morning, most were already gone or downstairs. I hope my mom is still in her room. Gabby held her breath as she knocked on her mom’s door. Her hand was tightly holding Jojo’s as they waited for an answer. Surprisingly, it was Rhiannon who answered the door. “Ah, good morning you little lovebirds! What brings you here? Did you need your mother, Gabby?” “Yes, please,” she answered meekly. Rhiannon held up a finger and closed the door. A few moments later, the door reopened and there was her mom wearing the baby blue bathrobe Gabby had got her the previous Christmas. Her mom was practically glowing with happiness as she beamed at the two of them. “Good morning, Gabby and Jojo! I’m surprised to see you both up so early!” Gabby took a quick deep breath before saying, “Mom, there’s something I have to talk to you about.” “Oh? What about?” Hesitantly glancing at her boyfriend, she admitted in a whisper, “Jack.” Her mother’s smile disappeared in an instant, replaced by a hardened glare. “Gabby, I promise you that neither you nor Jojo have to worry about him coming near us ever again. If that’s what you’re worried about, I swear to you I will do everything I can to keep you safe from him.” “But he is coming, Mom,” she stressed. “He’s going to be here tomorrow.” Her mom’s mood once more shifted, the anger replaced with confusion. “What?” “Moore,” Jojo squeaked, “he called him yesterday, when I got the collar off. He told us he’d be here by the 30th.” Her mother fell completely silent, an unreadable expression on her face. “Gabby,” she finally said after a moment of silence, “I’ve never really told you about Jack, have I? Aside from how you should stay far, far away from him, I mean.” She shook her head. “Not really, no. Jojo told me a little bit, though.” “He is,” her mother began, closing her eyes, “absolutely, truly a monster. He is the most repugnant, miserable man I have ever had the misfortune to meet. He has brought nothing but pain to this coven and has hurt me, Jojo, Rex, the Cullens, and so many others. He has been nothing but a toxic influence on Mother. And no matter how hard I’ve tried, Rex has tried, and even Amon has tried… We just can’t kill him.” If Gabby was afraid before, she was utterly terrified now. “What are we supposed to do?” she breathed, barely able to will herself to speak. Her mother put both hands on her shoulders. “Go get Rex. I’m going to get dressed and get Amon and Mother. I’m not letting him touch you. Or you, Jojo. We will figure this out, I promise.” “Are you certain I shouldn’t try and call my father, Mary?” Rhiannon called out from the bedroom. “I hope it doesn’t come to that,” her mom muttered. With a determined nod, Gabby hurriedly pulled Jojo through the hallway to Rex’s room just a few doors away. She wasn’t sure if he was inside or lounging in the living room rotting his brain away watching The Handy and Ydnah Show, but she didn’t have time to waste on debating where to check first. Pounding on his door, she called out, “Rex? Rex, are you inside?” There was a loud groan from within the room. “Gabby, what the fuck?” Rex called out. “I’m still hungover from last night. You couldn’t let me sleep?” “No!” she shouted back. Couldn’t he hear the urgency in her voice? She heard more groaning and a loud thud. A few seconds later an exhausted Rex wearing nothing but a pair of boxers adorned with little red hearts opened the door. “Fuck, is there a fire? Do I need to grab Mina or something?” Gabby hurriedly averted her eyes, staring at the off-white carpet beneath her feet instead. Couldn’t he have put clothes on first? “No, nothing like… Well, I don’t know, maybe? Jack is coming, and Mom said to get you.” “WHAT THE FUCK?” Rex shouted, his tired eyes opening wide. “Why the fuck didn’t you start with that?! Give me a fucking minute, I’ve gotta—MINA! Wake the fuck up, we have an emergency!” Rex slammed the door shut, the sounds of panic and stumbling coming from inside the room. Gabby glanced at Jojo, who still looked miserable. “It’ll be okay,” she whispered. “I promise.” While they waited for Rex to presumably get properly dressed, Gabby wondered if Flynn knew Mina was still sleeping in Rex’s room. Maybe Rex doesn’t like him that way. The mere thought made her feel a small sense of relief in addition to worry for her friend. Rex burst open the door, this time fully dressed, Mina close behind him. “Okay, so explain to me why the fuck Jack is coming?” Gabby quickly filled him. “Grandma promised me she wouldn’t let him hurt Jojo, but…” “It’s always ‘buts’ with your fucking grandma,” Rex snarled. Pitching up his voice, he mockingly continued, “But I can help him! But I can make him apologize!” “Come on, Rex,” Jojo mumbled weakly, “it has to be different this time.” “Yeah, whatever,” Rex scoffed. “He’s fucking doing this on purpose, you know that? As if the 30th isn’t miserable enough for me, now I’ve gotta deal with that cunt.” “I’m not looking forward to dealing with him either,” Mina said. “Last time I saw him was on that trip to Russia… I barely remember it… I think I killed someone.” Gabby stared at Mina in horror. How could she kill someone and not remember it? “Rasputin?” Rex scoffed. “He’s fine. He’s lived through worse. Now what the fuck are we doing? And, uh, where’s Red? He know about all this yet?” She hesitated for a brief moment. “Yes, but he’s still asleep. We didn’t want to wake him up.” “Oh,” Rex mumbled, running his hand through his hair. “Yeah, good. Fair. Let him sleep, he deserves it. Got a tough job.” Behind him Gabby noticed Mina crossing her arms and rolling her eyes, giving a slight shake of her head. As Rex stomped off down the hall, Mina leaned down and whispered, “He’s frustrating, isn’t he? You’ll get to know just how much as well as I have, I’m sure.” Then she straightened up and followed after him. What is that supposed to mean? Gabby wondered to herself, feeling completely perplexed. Not really sure what to do, she followed the two, Jojo trailing just behind her. “I’m kind of glad we have to deal with these two,” Jojo whispered to her. “It’s a nice distraction. I’d rather be frustrated than afraid, ja?” She considered what he said for a moment. Since Rex had answered the door, Gabby’s fear had diminished. She felt safer with the wild man, all things considered. “Yeah,” she finally agreed. “And… well…” Jojo blushed. “I’m afraid, but not as afraid as I’d be without you. I think I’ll be safe.” Gabby felt warm inside and smiled shyly at Jojo. “I promise I’ll do everything I can to keep him away from you. I’m not going to let you get hurt again.” Jojo smiled back and gently took her hand as they continued following Rex who was stalking through the hall. Amon was waiting for them at the bottom of the stairs, a stern expression on his face. “Gabriella,” he said as they gathered before them, “I understand wanting a night to celebrate Johan’s freedom, but the sooner we could have found out about this the better.” Gabby felt like she’d been slapped. Didn’t Amon understand how scared they were? “But… That’s not why—” “Give her a fucking break, man,” Rex snapped. “It’s not like she really fucking knows anything about Jack, and you of all people should fucking know how useful your dear sweet mommy is at reigning that fucker in! Telling you then or telling you now, it wouldn’t make a single fucking bit of difference!” Amon visibly softened, his posture easing up. Rubbing his forehead, he said, “You’re right. I apologize, Gabriella. I’m not mad at you or Johan, I promise. This is just not something I thought I’d have to deal with.” “We didn’t either,” she replied. “Well, deal with it I shall for all our sakes,” Amon sighed. “As usual, he insists on throwing a wrench in my plans. Now, we simply wait for Marianna, while she wakes—“ “WHAT?” came the thunderous, furious scream of her grandmother from upstairs. In a burst of light and feathers she appeared before the front door, a look of pure fury on her face not unlike the day she was told Dracula was alive. This time, however, there was something else in her eyes as she fixed them on Gabby. “Gabby, dear,” she said gently, though her voice was trembling slightly from anger, “tell me it is not so. Tell me I simply dreamed your mother telling me Jack is coming to Rhine City.” Gabby shook her head slowly. She wasn’t afraid of her grandmother’s rage. On the contrary, she was reassured by it. The way her grandma reacted to the news told her she would do whatever it took to keep Jojo safe. Taking a deep breath, her grandmother hissed, “Amon. Contact Dallas, Tony, and Giorgio immediately. If my plan with Victoria falls through and I cannot rid myself of Jack that way, then Rex will need as much backup as possible to keep him from running wild. Call anyone else you might think will prove useful. Dorian, Wayne, Mr. J, the Deerings, whoever. We need numbers, which is why…” She turned towards Gabby, a smile spreading across her face and dispersing her anger like the sun breaking through the clouds on a rainy day. “…I will be gathering up my new recruits to this coven, and hopefully they can turn before Jack arrives.” Gabby’s eyes widened with surprise. More members? How many would her grandma be turning at once? Would they be able to stop Jack from doing something unspeakable? “Mother, I…“ Amon began, with uncharacteristic surprise in his voice. “I will call them at once.” “No fucking way,” Rex muttered softly, shock evident in his voice as well, “I must still be dreaming.” “I will say, just to be safe, that you should find somewhere to go until Jack is dealt with tomorrow,” her grandmother nodded at Jojo. “I, uh,” Jojo stammered, “er, that is not a bad idea at all…” “Like where?” Gabby timidly asked. She had a feeling her bedroom wasn’t entirely the best place to hide. “There’s this really good diner I went to the other day called Brightside’s,” Rex offered. “I give you some cash, you can go and eat, I fuck Jack up, and he runs off like the little pussy bitch that he is. Boom, problem fucking solved.” “It would be nice to eat something aside from pizza,” Jojo chuckled. Despite the severity of the issue, Gabby managed to laugh, too. “Yeah. I guess it wouldn’t be so bad.” “I do think it would be best if you stayed home and sent your bodyguard to keep him company,” her grandmother said. “You’d be safer here. I know Jack wouldn’t dare try and touch you… but if he plans to harm Jojo, he’ll want you to see what he does, I’m sure of it. Hopefully this can be resolved, and your boys can bring you home something nice from the diner, hmm?” Feeling rather disappointed, Gabby mumbled, “Okay.” She didn’t want to be separated from Jojo at such a dire time, but she trusted Flynn. He’ll keep him safe. “I have a lot to explain to you as it is,” came her mother’s voice from the stairs. Gabby turned to see her descending with Rhiannon close behind her. “Hopefully this will give us some time for me to really tell you the whole truth.” Gabby exchanged a confused look with Jojo. The whole truth? What was that supposed to mean? “Your mother has tried to keep Jack away from you all these years,” Amon explained, “but it’s unavoidable now that you’ve completely freed Jojo from him. Frankly, I would have explained things after what happened with Dawn and Stella…” “There was so much going on,” her mother murmured as she approached and pulled Gabby into a gentle hug, “but I’m not hiding it anymore.” “It’s nice we’re all on the same page for once,” her grandmother laughed. “Amon, Rhiannon… Why don’t you both go scour the city for Moore? You need not bring him back alive. I think he has more than earned whatever the demons have in store for him.” “He left already?” Gabby knew she shouldn’t really be surprised. Moore was as slimy as they came. “I noticed he was missing last night,” her grandmother sighed, “but I was simply glad the wretched man was out of our home. Still, he is a danger and should be dealt with before he hurts anyone else.” “And I’m more than happy to send him hurtling to the pits,” Rhiannon stated proudly. Amon nodded. “It’s a big city, but I suppose I could use the time to sightsee. I believe the Dracula Guard will know better than to try and impede my activities. Of course, this means you will be in charge of keeping Gabriella, Johan, Rhapsody, and the others safe, Rex.” “Well I’m fucking happy to oblige there,” Rex grinned. “Ah, yes, that reminds me… Ruthven… What to do with that one…” Gabby’s grandmother tapped her chin thoughtfully. “Perhaps send him out to get in touch with Elizabeth and ready you-know-what… If worse comes to worse, I am fully willing to have them wake up a certain bloodfiend and have him finish Jack off.” Gabby’s eyes widened. She hadn’t doubted her grandmother loved her, but hearing the lengths she was willing to go to keep Gabby and Jojo safe warmed her heart. “I… I hope it doesn’t come to that,” Amon uttered, “but I will see to it. It’s… I am glad you are back to being yourself. I have missed this side of you, Mother.” Her grandmother’s smile grew even more radiant. “And I have missed hearing you call me that. I am glad I deserve that title again… Now…” She snapped her fingers. “Let’s get to it, shall we? Honestly, if we can deal with this, I may even just give Victoria what she needs, and we can simply go on a lovely vacation somewhere… Perhaps somewhere tropical.” “The beach!” Gabby whispered with excitement. How long had it been since she had visited the beach? “Just nowhere near Bermuda,” her grandmother chuckled, “that patch of ocean brings back unpleasant memories. Anyhow, I am off! Gabby, I want you and your boys to relax with the others while we all handle things, alright?” “Okay!” she nodded. She felt optimistic about Jack’s arrival, a stark contrast to her anxiety just moments earlier. Her mother, her grandmother, Amon, and Rhiannon soon dispersed, heading off to begin their tasks, leaving Gabby alone in the foyer with Jojo, Rex, and Mina. “Holy fuck,” Rex muttered, “I can’t fucking believe this. We might actually get to just… fucking go free. And maybe Jack can go to Hell where he belongs!” “Don’t count your chickens before they hatch, Rex,” Mina replied. “Jack is crafty, ja, but I have a good feeling this time,” Jojo said. “I trust Eve for once, and I definitely trust Amon, Marianna, and Rhiannon.” “I knew Grandma would help!” Gabby exclaimed with excitement. She felt guilty about ever doubting her. “I didn’t, but I’m fucking glad I was wrong,” Rex shrugged. “Hey, maybe when this shits over, I can introduce you to my sister. She’d love you, Gabby.” “Really?” she grinned. “I’d like to meet her.” “Rosemary is a real sweetheart,” Jojo laughed. “I’ve met her a few times.” “So have I,” Mina added. “She is not a fan of me.” Gabby couldn’t exactly blame her considering Mina’s past. She, herself, was still unsure how to feel about the woman. “So, should we go watch a movie or something?” Jojo asked, seeming to sense the awkwardness and deciding to cut through it. “Yeah!” she immediately answered. “We can watch one of my new ones! Maybe we should get Flynn first, though.” She hesitantly glanced towards Rex to gauge his reaction. Unsurprisingly, Rex seemed to light up. “Yeah! Think it’d be nice to get Red in on the celebration. Can’t believe he fucking slept through all this bullshit!” “He needed the sleep,” she grumbled defensively. “Well, whatever. Go get him. We’ll meet you in the living room.” Gabby certainly didn’t need to be told twice. She darted for the stairs, excited that Moore’s cruel plans were going to backfire on him. Grandma isn’t someone you want to make angry. And the foolish man had done just that. He thought he’d messed things up for them, but all he did was make a family of powerful vampires mad. I guess we’ll really see who has the last laugh, Mr. Moore. ****** Why did I agree to this? Roarke mentally grumbled as he and Rose sat on a couch directly across from and facing the identical couch Levi and Mara were seated on. As if being in the man’s presence wasn’t awkward enough, they were also sitting in the same room he’d been humiliated in the day before. The tension in the air was nearly suffocating Roarke, who was staring at his hands in his lap trying his best to avoid any contact with Antoinette’s cousin. “She deserves better, you know,” Rose said coldly, breaking the silence. Considering how she had been staring daggers at Levi ever since she saw him, Roarke could only assume she was directing the comment at him. “Who?” Levi grunted, apparently falling for the bait Rose was giving him. “Mara,” Rose replied, smug satisfaction dripping from her voice. “She’s a sweet one, and she ought to be with someone who’s not a pompous cowboy b-u-l-l-y.” “Fucking crikey,” Mara muttered, “turning wasn’t this painful.” Silence fell in the room again. Roarke cautiously lifted his eyes to glance at Levi and was immediately surprised. Though it was hard to see his expression behind the shaggy mop that was Levi’s hair, the man looked like he’d just found out his dog had been shot. He was slumped back into the couch appearing utterly defeated. It was a polar opposite to the rage that had been shot at Roarke the previous day. “That’s it,” Mara sighed, leaping off the couch, “I’m fucking done.” “Wha’dya mean?” Levi asked in a meek voice. Mara pinched the bridge of her nose. “I love you, Levi, but you’re so fucking stubborn. Your cousin knows what she’s fucking doing, but you’ve done nothing but snipe at Roarke from day one! And you know how I’m so sure she’s got her head on straight? Because that night at the dinner, when I looked at Roarke, I saw that his weakness was Antoinette! He didn’t even know it yet, but if anything had happened to her, he’d have lost it, babe. You know my power doesn’t lie.” Roarke swallowed hard. She was right, and a part of him felt relieved that someone could speak the things he was too afraid or unwilling to say. He wondered if what Mara said finally got through to Levi as the man was speechless and looking rather guilty. “Ha!” Rose laughed. “Ought to trust this one more often, cowboy.” Mara whirled around towards Rose. “And you! Rosie, I get it. I get where you’re coming from, and I get Levi has been a cunt. But do you really need to fucking antagonize him? And saying I deserve better… I fucking love him. I’m going to marry his ass one of these days; there’s literally no one else in the world I’d rather be with. Don’’t fucking speak for me just to dig at him, alright? Fuck’s sake, I thought we were friends.” Rose, too, went entirely quiet, flopping backwards into her seat and staring down at the floor, avoiding eye contact with everyone. “And you!” Mara said, turning to Roarke and causing him to stiffen instinctively. The irritation on her face was replaced by a cheeky smile. “You’re fine, mate. You’re the only one that’s not pissing me off right now.” “Thanks,” he whispered. The room grew uncomfortably quiet again. Maybe I shouldn’t have agreed to come, he thought miserably. “Don’t think that,” Rose mumbled sadly. “Anyway,” Mara sighed, “I need some fresh fucking air, so if you don’t mind—“ She turned to leave the room, only to run smack dab into her father, with Jerrod sulking behind him. “Wh—Mara? What’s—“ Harlan Silver stared at everyone in the room before muttering, “Shit.” “Oh, come the fuck on. Why does it gotta be these two?” Jerrod groaned. “Of all the vampires…” “Ain’t my idea,” Levi shrugged. “Sorry, man.” “Not too happy about this myself, I’m not,” Rose grumbled. “Yeah, I’ll bet,” Jerrod sighed. “Well, let’s get this over with.” Roarke glanced at Rose. “You ready?” “Yeh,” she nodded, “let’s fix this one’s head up.” With a sigh, Jerrod took a seat on the couch across from them in the spot Mara had sat in a moment ago. As he did so, Rose held her hand out. “Hold on tight, Puppy.” He grasped her hand, ready for anything. Rose turned and stared hard at Jerrod, who shifted uncomfortably under the force of her gaze. A few seconds passed before a blue flash of what Roarke knew to be vampire magic blinded his vision. He waited as patiently as one could while being transported into someone’s head until an image came into focus before him. He found himself standing in a dimly-lit bar. There was a worn out jukebox sitting in a far corner and several dingy tables littered about haphazardly. Oddly, there were also six nicer tables with lights hanging over them, illuminating the area like a spotlight. At each table, a red headed woman sat alone drinking peacefully. Roarke curiously peered at the women, who all seemed to be the same person at first. Upon closer inspection, he realized each of them possessed subtle differences in their appearance. Jerrod was slumped on the bar with yet another iteration of the redheaded woman polishing the counter. This one was wearing a pair of red-tinted sunglasses. “Ooh, visitors. Haven’t seen you two here before,” the woman nodded in their direction. “Uh…” Roarke glanced at Rose. What was going on? Why were there so many clones in Jerrod’s head? Maybe he’s got a massive crush on someone. But to put her everywhere in his headspace was a bit much. “Don’t expect Jerrod to be much of a help,” the woman said, gesturing to the man. “He’s out cold right now. Maybe find Charlie, he should—Stewart!” Roarke whirled around to see a rather nonplussed Rose being aggressively flirted with by one of the redheads. This one was wearing a jacket with the collar turned up and was speaking with a deeper voice than the one behind the bar. “What?” the flirty redhead smiled cockily, “It’s not every day a pretty woman walks into the bar. Guy like me can’t help but shoot his shot.” “Sorry, sorry, sorry,” Rose responded in a tone that did not sound sorry in the slightest, “you’re not my type! Only like psychics, hypnotists, magicians—“ “Come with me to the bathroom, let me get out my magic wand, and we’ll see what magic we can make together,” the redhead winked. “Jesus fuck, man,” Roarke grimaced. “Even I know that sounds horrible, and I relied on pick-up lines all the time.” “That’s Stewart for you,” came a voice from nearby. Roarke turned to see a man with a neatly trimmed beard wearing a white jacket almost identical to Jerrod’s black one. “Always making problems the other alters have to deal with.” Roarke glanced at the man, realizing how similar he looked to Jerrod, before asking, “Are you his brother?“ “Jerrod’s? Yep. The name’s Charlie.” The man extended his hand towards him. After hesitating briefly, Roarke shook the man’s hand if only to be polite. The whole experience was rather odd. The people in Jerrod’s head almost seemed to be mildly aware this wasn’t entirely real, unlike in his own where his mom and Antoinette had no idea. Charlie glanced over Roarke’s shoulder. “Hey, Stewart, come on. Leave the woman alone, she’s not here to play, she’s here to work. Why don’t you go and spend time with Dolores?” Stewart muttered something before Roarke saw him stalk off towards a table with another of the redheads. This one wore a cute little dress and a bow that appeared very child-like. “Gotta wonder if this is what it’s like inside Roxy’s head,” Charlie said to him as Rose came forward. Roarke balked. The people in Jerrod’s head didn’t just appear to be aware. They were aware. “Wait, you know where you are?" “Well, yeah. I’m a mental construct my little brother created to help him feel safe and comfy in his happy place.” He gestured towards the bar. “67 Metal Barbs, the bar in our hometown. This is where he, Roxy, and I all went on his 21st birthday to celebrate. That was a good night, man.” “He must have a very high opinion of his brother to have him be this s-m-a-r-t,” Rose nodded thoughtfully. “So, uh…” He glanced around at the multiple versions of who he guessed was Roxy. “Why are there so many of her in here?” “Roxy has Dissociative Identity Disorder. Each of the people in here is a representation of her alters, done here as separate entities so that he has more interaction in his special place.” “Ah, makes perfect sense!” Rose chirped. “It’s nice to see that he sees them all as different people, it is. I’ve been in heads that aren’t so understanding of the condition.” Roarke understood for the most part, but there was something still puzzling him. “Why do they all look the same?” “They all have the same host body, they just have little things to help differentiate themselves from each other. Roxy—“ He gestured to the woman behind the bar. “—wears her shades. Dolores—“ He gestured towards the one in the dress. “—wears that pretty dress since she’s a little, or a child persona. Stewart—“ He gestured over to the persona who couldn’t flirt. “—is a ladies’ man, or likes to think he is, so he tries to look cool. You following all this, buddy?” “Uh… Yeah, I think so,” he affirmed. He’d never heard of something like this before and wondered what it had to do with whatever they were looking for. “Good Puppy,” Rose said, patting his head. “Very, very, very smart, he is. Now, Mr. Charlie, we need to find Jerrod’s memories. Seems like someone tampered with them, so I’m here to fix that and see what he saw! Do you know where I can find the doorway to his memories?” “Yeah, of course!” Charlie nodded over to Roxy. “Babe, you can keep an eye on my brother, right? I’m gonna bring these two into the back room.” “Like you even need to ask, sweetheart,” Roxy replied before blowing him a kiss. So his most important people are his brother and his brother’s girlfriend. It was rather sweet even if the version of Jerrod that existed in his mind was hopelessly drunk. “Alright you two, follow me!” Charlie led them behind the bar and into a room that had rows and rows of different alcohol stacked on shelves that stretched far into the distance. It seemed much larger than any room a bar like this would reasonably house but Roarke figured it was just a creative liberty of Jerrod’s mind. Charlie led them onward and further into the room. Eventually, the bottles on the shelves disappeared and were replaced by books. Precariously stacked piles of paper cluttered the floor on both sides. Jerrod’s brother finally came to a stop at the far end of the room in front of a rather rusty-looking door with a crudely written sign that read, “Hall of Memories.” The door itself was surrounded by what looked like wanted posters featuring drawings of a man with dark hair and dull red eyes. Despite simply being an illustration, there was something deeply unsettling about the man on the poster. “Well, here we are,” Charlie nodded. “I unfortunately can’t go any further. Be careful in there, alright?” Roarke was surprised. “Why can’t you go in?” “He only exists in the happy place, Puppy,” Rose explained. “He exists to comfort Jerrod, not to worry about the memories.” “Your friend’s right,” Charlie said. “And on that note, I’ll head on back. Good luck in there! I’ll have Roxy pour you something for when you get back!” With a final wave, Charlie turned and began the long walk back through the room. Rose glanced towards the door. “You ready, Puppy?” “I guess I don’t have much of a choice,” he sighed. “That’s the s-p-i-r-i-t!” Rose exclaimed as she grabbed his hand and dragged him through the door. The room they found themselves in was a dimly lit large gray concrete auditorium. Lining the walls and descending towards the wooden stage at the very front were many, many doors covered in various blue glowing cryptic symbols. “Ugh, it’s so drab in here,” Rose sighed. “He could decorate a bit, he could.” “What a weird choice for a room,” Roarke noted. Why a theater? Why not, say, another bar? That’s clearly what Jerrod enjoyed. “So, uh, are we just going through every door until we find whatever we’re looking for?” Rose nodded. “We can just p-e-e-k in and see if it’s what we’re looking for. Gotta find him meeting up with Amon for this mission he was on! You check the doors over that way, I’ll look over here!” She started skipping off towards the right side. Internally grumbling, he started walking towards the left side of the room. I guess I’ll go in order, he sighed, stopping in front of the first door. Grasping the doorknob, he pushed it open, not really sure what to expect. Inside was what appeared to be a study. Books and stacks of paper were chaotically piled high on the floor. A teenage version of Jerrod was hunched over a desk, muttering to himself, while a younger Charlie pulled books off of one of the shelves and stacked them in his arms. “Find anything useful, bro?” Charlie called out. “Yeah… Great-Grandpa Randolph kept detailed notes about the cult and its activities… He even illustrated an autopsy of one of Darke’s bodies!” Charlie turned towards his brother, his nose wrinkling in disgust. “Bogus.” “It could help! It could… There has to be something, anything… She deserves justice…” “That’s definitely not it,” Roarke noted, closing the door. He moved further down the aisle to the second one and pushed it open, hoping this was what they were looking for. In this memory, Jerrod was standing before four rather peculiar people in an auditorium similar to the one his memories were housed in, though it was much brighter and decorated with the familiar insignia of the Silverwings. One of the people before Jerrod, who appeared to be a skeleton in a pinstripe suit, took a deep drag from a cigar before puffing out a ring of smoke. “You’ve got a lot of spunk, I’ll give you that,” the skeleton said in a comically thick New York accent. “Lots of conviction in your beliefs too. I’m all for ya, kiddo, but it ain’t just my call. What about the rest of you fellas? What say you?” A woman who looked suspiciously similar to Armstrong right down to the height and massive muscles shook her head. “I’m not sure. He has potential, ja? But his theories… We are stretched so thin; can we really afford to be playing connect the dots trying to tie so much to that cult? What do you think, Adam?” A very bored-looking man with scars crisscrossing his face glanced over to her and sighed. “I don’t care either way, really.” “Okay, Gerlinde, I’m calling that a no. As usual, Adam has no opinion, and me? I’m all for the guy,” the skeleton man said, tapping his cigar and letting the ashes fall to the floor. “Damn shame Harlan ain’t here to cast a vote… Guess it’s up to you, McAllister.” A bespectacled man who seemed to radiate smugness sneered down at Jerrod. “I think, in the state we’re in, the Silverwings deserve a far better class of hunter than someone who wants to waste our resources fighting cult-manufactured fairy tales.” “What?” Jerrod exclaimed. “You can’t be serious! I did—“ “Sorry!” McAllister shrugged, his voice sounding not the least bit sorry. “You have skill, Carter, but you’re wasting all of it on some hollow vengeance quest against the artificial figurehead of a doomsday cult. You’d be a liability, and that’s not even getting into the alcoholism…” Roarke winced as he closed the door. “Yikes.” He almost couldn’t blame Jerrod for being the way he was after seeing that. Hopefully door number three is our winner. In this memory, Jerrod was stumbling through a dingy-looking house in a bathrobe, grumbling to himself. “I swear to fucking Christ, if this is another goddamn Jehovah’s Witness out here I’m gonna lose it.” Jerrod flung the door open and froze in his tracks, his entire body going stiff. “Greetings, Mr. Carter,” came a rich, friendly voice from the doorstep. “I’m certain you know who I am. May I come in?” “A-Amon…?” Jerrod stammered as he stepped backwards from the door, revealing a man in a rich purple suit standing with his arms folded right on the doorway’s threshold. Curiously, everything behind the man was fractured like a broken mirror. Before Roarke could even process the absurdity of it, the scene seemed to shift ever-so-slightly, almost like a movie that had been badly edited. Everyone seemed to be in the same positions as before, but they shifted just a few inches. That was weird… “Ok… Germany, you said,” Jerrod nodded. “Yes,” the mysterious visitor nodded back. “Be there, and I promise you, this will lead to you playing a part in something far greater than you could ever imagine.” Roarke turned around in the doorway and called out, “Hey, Rose! I found it!” His friend hurried over, looking a bit pale and shaken. “Thank God, Puppy. I don’t think I could bear to witness to anything like the ‘fuck tape’ memory again.” He stared at her dumbfounded. “The what?” She shook her head. “I promise, promise, promise: You don’t want to know.” She peered past him into Jerrod’s memory. “Oi, this one is all sorts of messed up! Shall we take a closer look?” “I’ll just, uh… follow your lead.” It was probably the best option considering he had absolutely no idea what they were supposed to do now that they’d found the tampered event. “Alright, come on, come on, come on!” Rose grabbed his hand and pulled him through the door. Soon, they were in the middle of the memory. Rose let go of his hand and peered out the door, staring at the distortions behind Amon. “Someone or something back here was erased, it was. With magic of some sort. “You think someone else was with this guy?” “Yep! It’s someone Amon didn’t want Jerrod to remember was there.” Once more, Rose grabbed his hand and pulled him out the door, passing through Amon as if he were a hologram. When they were outside, Roarke saw the full extent of the fractured memories. Much of the yard was a kaleidoscopic mess that seemed to abruptly end in a hazy blue mist blocking the view a few feet away. “My power is pulling a lot of information from his head to reconstruct the world as it was in his memory, but there are limits,” Rose explained, picking up on his confusion about the edge of the yard almost immediately, “so don’t go into the mist or you’ll be stuck in Jerrod’s head for a bit!” “That’d be a damn nightmare,” he laughed. “So what do we do? Put the pieces in the right spot?” “Yep!” Rose chirped. “And best of all, you can help! It might be tricky since this was done with magic of some sort, but it’s basically a big puzzle!” “Huh, okay.” Rose did the right thing asking him to come. He wasn’t athletic in the slightest, but he was pretty good at brain teasers and puzzles. “Can I touch the, uh, pieces?” Rose reached out and gently grabbed a piece, slowly dragging it over to show him. With a cheerful wink, she said, “That answer your q-u-e-s-t-i-o-n?” “Yeah, I guess so,” he chuckled. A life-sized puzzle with no example to use as a guide. That’s all this is. The two got to work, separating the pieces into piles according to color. He soon realized the pieces weren’t separated in a coherent way. Instead of neat, strategic edges, these pieces looked like a three year old had run through the area cutting everything up with a pair of safety scissors. Solving this mystery could take a few hours. Would it be a few hours in real time? Or would it be a blink of an eye and they’d be back? Could Rose hold up that long? “Hey, uh, you gonna be good if this takes a while?” “As long as no one attacks our bodies, we’ll be fine!” “That sounds, uh, promising?” He hoped Levi wouldn’t do anything stupid. Not with Harlan around anyway, right? He decided to focus on the puzzle and stop worrying about what may or may not be happening on the outside. It was a tedious process, but the two made progress. They quickly discovered pieces that fit together would click into place and chime softly. Eventually, the muddled colors Roarke was working with began to take the shape of a person wearing some sort of brown floral coat. “Puppy?” Rose called out from where she stood just a few feet away. Her voice sounded concerned. “You may want to see this.” She pointed at what looked like part of a torso wearing some sort of red-brown garment. This second mystery person was definitely not human if the presence of dark red feathery wings neatly folded on their back was any indication. “Whoa,” he breathed. “Wings? What kind of creature is that?” “It has to be an angel, it has to be,” Rose tapped her cheek thoughtfully. “Are they a visitor? I don’t know any angels that live on Earth besides Eve, I don’t.” “If this really is an angel, I think I can understand why they’d want this memory hidden.” “They are rather secretive, yeh?” Rose replied. “I knew Eve for years before everything, but I never felt like I knew her… Marianna was the only one I ever saw her open up to aside from Amon, and she’s known Amon a long, long, long time. Thousands of years, even.” “How did you find out about her?” “She used to come round the school from time to time, watch lectures, sometimes teach things herself… She was so nice back then, she was. She always said she couldn’t love anymore cuz her heart was cut out, but she was so sweet to everyone… How did it end up like this?” She sighed as she slid some pieces about, connecting them together to reveal a glowing hourglass hanging from the angel’s hip. “I wonder what happened,” Roarke softly murmured. “I don’t know… It was so sudden, too. After what Jack did, she promised Teach she’d hunt him down and make him pay, but then she shows up with him saying she could fix him?” Rose tossed a few pieces aside in frustration. “I know he did something, I know it! And I know why he’d do it, too. He did it to hurt Marianna. He hated Marianna more than anything in the world, he did. Even before he started killing, I could feel the resentment seeping from him every time he saw her. But I loved him, and I ignored it!” She fell to her knees and held her head in her hands. “I should have told someone—anyone—what I saw. Then maybe we wouldn’t be mucking about in this man’s mind, piecing together angels and who knows what else!” “Hey, whoa.” He knelt down beside her and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “Living in the past like that isn’t going to change anything. But the whole coven is counting on us to figure this out, so we’ve got to focus, okay?” “R-Right, right, right…” she muttered. “This is why I brought you, yeh? I need someone to help me focus, I do. Just… give me a minute, okay?” “Let me know when you’re ready.” He gave her a supportive smile before turning back to the mystery angel. As he pieced it together, it soon became apparent the angel was wearing a robe of some sort, one that was parted below the waist. Amusingly enough, it seemed as though the angel was simply wearing plain blue jeans and regular brown work boots under the robe. “That‘s weird,” he noted, examining the odd outfit. Was the angel just modest? Or were they trying not to attract attention? Though I’m not sure how well they did with that since they’ve got their wings out in public. “Is this angel wearing jeans?” Rose asked incredulously, joining him again. “How o-d-d.” Once they finished putting together Amon’s companions, it was clear the angel wasn’t the only one with an unusual wardrobe. The other man appeared to be wearing an outfit that would have fit very well in colonial America. Either he’s really old, or he’s into period attire. With the puzzle finally completed, Rose cheered, “Ta-da! The real hard part is d-o-n-e! Now I just have to try and force the broken memory to start. Might be a bit rough, but we’ll work it out as we go along, we will!” Rose held out her hands in front of her and closed her eyes. For a moment, nothing seemed to happen. Then, the muffled sounds of speaking and sluggish movement came from the two figures they had pieced together. “Ahhhh!” Rose groaned, sweat forming on her brow as she strained hard. “This is fucking painful, it is! If I can… just… hold on…” “You got this,” Roarke encouraged her. “Stay focused, and I’ll listen in.” With a strained nod, Rose continued, grunting from the stress of using her power. Eventually, it seemed to pay off as the voices became clearer and the memory began playing normally. “—brought a whole damn posse—” Jerrod said, though some of what he said was cut off. “Yes,” Amon chuckled, the memory smoothing out bit by bit, “I suppose I have.” “I wasn’t going to miss out on this,” spoke the angel in a warm, friendly tone. “I was good friends with your great-grandfather. After hearing of your plight, I insisted Amon utilize you in our plan.” Jerrod raised an eyebrow. “You knew Randolph Carter? You’re telling me you’re Azrael, the hero of Dunwich? Since when do you know Amon? Hell, why are you back on Earth? Don’t you have better things to do than to come to fucking Florida?” “You’d be surprised how many angels come to Florida,” Azrael laughed. “Now, I would like to explain things in more detail, but I’d prefer to do it inside. May we come in, Mr. Carter?” Amon asked. “Two of us need an invitation, and one of us is just exceptionally well-mannered.” Roarke glanced at the colonial-esque person in surprise. They’re a vampire? “Puppy… make sure… you pay attention… Can’t focus… on anything else… right now…” Rose grunted. “Keep an eye on them… please…” Jerrod sighed. “Okay, fine. Whatever. I mean, what do I have to lose? Worst case scenario is you and Benedict Arnold over there eat me, I guess.” “Perish the thought,” the strange vampire huffed in an old British accent. “Do I appear to be one so uncouth I’d devour someone who invited me in?” “Buddy, you appear to be stuck in a Boston Tea Party reenactment,” Jerrod snorted. “Now come on in before I change my mind.” Azrael patted the mystery vampire, who seemed genuinely offended, on the shoulder. “I think you look quite dashing, honestly.” The vampire huffed haughtily before he and Azrael followed Amon inside Jerrod’s house. Roarke reassured Rose he was paying attention before following them inside. Jerrod led the men through his messy house and into his disaster area of a living room. There were beer cans all over the coffee table, an empty pizza box sitting on the couch, and hanging from a lampshade in the corner was what appeared to be a pair of heart-printed boxers. “If it’s all the same, I think I’ll stand,” the well-dressed stranger muttered as he moved to lean against a portion of the wall that looked the least dirty. Amon, without any hesitation, sat down on the couch while Jerrod slumped into a dusty old armchair nearby. Roarke passed through Azrael, who was lingering in the doorway, and stood in the center of the room. Jerrod sighed in frustration. “Alright, so what the fuck is this? What’s with the angel? What’s with Lord Byron over there? Why are you here?” “Ostensibly, I am here to recruit you to help my mother wipe out Dracula’s coven once and for all,” Amon said. “Yeah, well, fat fucking chance, buddy. I’m an asshole, but I’m not a total cunt,” Jerrod grumbled. “So no way am I doing that. Guess we’re done here, yeah?” Roarke’s eyes narrowed at Amon. “There’s more to this,” he whispered. “There has to be.” Why else would someone go to such great lengths to hide the memory? Amon smirked. “I did say ‘ostensibly,’ did I not? Truly, I am here with my companions to recruit you for a different mission.” “And what might that be?” Jerrod retorted. “Gonna have me fetch your coven coffee or something?” “You will be helping resurrect Amalric Dracula from the ring in which he is trapped.” “Wait, what?” Roarke exclaimed. Had he heard Amon right? But why did he want to help the coven? Weren’t they enemies? Jerrod’s brain seemed to short circuit, his mouth dropping open as he mirrored Roarke’s shock. “W-What? Are you fucking with me?” “I’ve never been particularly interested in fucking anyone, Mr. Carter,” Amon replied dryly. “Perhaps I shall let Azrael explain?” The angel brushed off his robe as he stepped forward. “I trust you know I have prophetic abilities, Mr. Carter. Long ago I had a vision of disaster striking Dracula and so in secret, I had a soulcatcher ring commissioned by the most powerful blood mage I could find.” “I thought the Ring of Dracula was just a myth…” Jerrod muttered. “Yes, well, unfortunately it may as well have been for the longest time… Randolph Carter’s brother, John, stole the ring from Dracula’s body, and it changed hands for many, many years until it ended up in the possession of Grigori Rasputin.” “And as luck would have it, Azrael informed me of this as we finally pinpointed his location after searching for him since the late 90’s,” Amon added. “And he also told me of another prophetic vision he had.” “Dracula will return, and his return will set in motion a chain of events with a higher purpose,” Azrael said as he clasped his hands together. “Though what that purpose might be is more than I could see.” “Perhaps it will give us the key to finally rid the world of Jack Fairchild,” the mystery vampire nodded. “Perhaps. Or perhaps it might help Rex reunite with his daughter. You did give me some indication that this might be the case.” “Indeed,” Azrael nodded in Amon’s direction before turning back and facing Jerrod. “Or, perhaps, it might put an end to the machinations of a certain cult.” Jerrod leapt up from his seat. “No shit! This might take down Sebastian Darke? Prove to those fuckers in the Silverwings he’s real after all?” “Perhaps it will.” “Whichever goal this pushes towards, I feel safe in assuming the other two will follow easily with Dracula returned,” Amon nodded. “So, Mr. Carter… Are you in?” “Abso-fucking-lutely!” he exclaimed. “What do I have to do, anyway?” “You’re going to tip off Rosemary Milliner that we know the remains of Dracula’s coven reside in Rhine City by following her. She will read your mind and see you know, and she’ll alert Victoria, who will in turn alert Harlan Silver… Though from there, I doubt they’ll get much help. Jack has moles in the Silverwings.” “Should we let them know about the moles?” Jerrod asked. Amon shook his head. “I shudder to think what might happen if Jack catches on too earlyto our plans. Your brother might be put in danger, and that’s a best case scenario.” “But wait, what if that Rose girl sees all this shit?” “That’s what I’m here for,” the mystery vampire sighed as he pushed himself off the wall and moved towards Jerrod. “She won’t see this because you won’t remember anything about this meeting on a conscious level.” “Huh?” The vampire extended his hand. “Hieronymus DeWalt.” “Oh, so you’re the infamous person from Porlock,” Jerrod said as he reached out and shook DeWalt’s hand. “Ah! So you do know me!” DeWalt grinned. With his free hand, he reached up and slapped Jerrod across the face, sending the man reeling backwards. “Ow, what the fuck!” “That’s for insulting me, you wanker,” DeWalt huffed. “Not like you’ll remember it anyway.” “I’ll leave you to it, Hieronymus,” Amon nodded as he stood up. “And Mr. Carter… Jerrod. Thank you for being willing to do this. I want you to know that, whatever else… I believe in you.” Jerrod’s sunglasses had slipped down his face a bit from the impact of the slap, and Roarke could see just how touched he looked at hearing this. Tears forming in his eyes, Jerrod mumbled, “Thanks, man…” “Wow,” Roarke whispered. This was way bigger than he could’ve even imagined. “Rose? I think we need to get back, now.” A bright blue flash blinded him once more and when he blinked it away, he was seated across from Jerrod in the Silverwing’s base. Jerrod looked rather dazed and confused, but the others appeared silently curious. “Ugh…” Rose groaned. “Puppy, what did y—“ She paused a beat before exclaiming, “Shit! What you’re thinking right now, is that all true?” “Every last bit,” he confirmed. “Well, what’d you find out?” Harlan asked. “Some guy named Amon told Jerrod he needed him as part of his plan to help bring back Dracula.” “Amo—What?” Harlan sputtered incredulously. Roarke recounted the entire memory, trying his best to include as many details as he could. Everyone seemed as shocked as he felt, almost as if they weren’t sure he was telling the truth. “I swear that’s exactly what I saw,” he vowed once he’d finished. “Well, shit,” Levi swore, running a hand through his messy hair. “Amon’s working with us? Azrael’s involved?” Harlan muttered. “This… This is something.” Jerrod was silent, staring down at the floor. “Alright,” he mumbled, “someone get me a phone.” “Huh?” Harlan turned towards him. “What for?” “Mircalla Karnstein owes me a favor,” Jerrod explained, “so if there’s a mole in the Silverwings and the situation here is this serious, I think maybe she can drag some reinforcements out here.” With a laugh, Levi said, “Didn’t I say ya had potential?” “I have connections,” Jerrod pointed out, “and a bunch of useful memories. That’s more luck than anything.” “We did it, Puppy!” Rose cheered. “We might’ve gotten a big breakthrough!” “Good on ya, mate!” Harlan applauded. “If Jerrod really can get through to Karnstein, we might be able to end this quick! Levi, go and get him somewhere to call Germany!” “Yes’sir!” Levi and Jerrod left the room with haste, leaving Roarke feeling a sense of relief at their absence. “Roarke Higgens,” Harlan began, “I have something I’d like to say to you.” Swallowing hard, Roarke tried to ignore how apprehensive he felt about whatever it was. “Yes, Sir?” “I’ve been working with this coven for decades, mate. And I’ve always loved hearing things about all the vampires cuz I’d always hear great things they were doing. But you? You, Roarke, I heard some rather nasty things. Womanizer, sleazebag, unmotivated, a loner… And do you know what that made me think?” He was pretty sure the man thought the same thing Victoria did. Feeling defeated, he mumbled, “No, Sir.” Harlan leaned in close, put a hand on his shoulder, and gave him a big grin. “It made me think, ‘Damn! Sounds like the shit they used to say about me!’ They’ve said nasty things about me back in Germany, and some of them still do. So ever since I heard of you, I was inclined to believe you’d push through somehow and prove the naysayers wrong. And you bloody well did, mate! And that gives me hope that maybe I can prove my naysayers wrong, too.” Roarke’s eyebrows shot upwards. Did… Did he just praise me? He wasn’t used to it but admittedly, it felt good. “Thank you, Sir.” “Keep up the good work, mate. And you too, Rose! Between the two of you, we’ve been making the first real progress in decades! Now, come on, Mara! We ought to go catch up to Jerrod and Levi.” Mara stood up and waved. “Smell ya later, mates!” She followed her father out of the room, leaving Roarke alone with Rose. “So, uh…” Roarke rubbed the back of his neck. “Now what?” “I, um…” Rose muttered, her voice sounding rather shaky. “I dunno. B-But thank you. Thank you, Puppy. I couldn’t do that alone, I couldn’t.” “Of course. You doing okay? Do you need to eat?” She’d used up quite a bit of energy. He’d be surprised if she didn’t need blood to rejuvenate herself. She shook her head, but then let out a sigh and shrugged. “I’m just… taking it all in again. How loud it is out here. But at least I’m not alone with my thoughts. You saw how I got in there…” “We’re our own worst enemies,” he agreed, surprising himself by how wise he suddenly sounded. “True, true, true,” she laughed before letting out a sigh. “This is all crazy, yeh? All this subterfuge and memory-tampering…” “It almost doesn’t seem real,” he agreed. “Isn’t it crazy? No matter how long you live as a vampire, the world always finds a way to throw new surprises at you.” “At least it keeps things interesting.” “It does, it does,” Rose nodded in agreement. “Now, you want to get out of here? I think you have a lady waiting back at the manor, you do.” Roarke felt a grin break out on his face. “You know me too well, Rose.” In higher spirits than they’d come in with, the two began their departure from the Silverwing base. It feels good to do something for the coven, Roarke thought to himself. He wasn’t a good-for-nothing like everyone believed. And knowing he had people like Rose, Antoinette, and Harlan Silver believing in him made him feel a little better about himself and put a spring in his step the whole way home. ****** Akina’s leg was bouncing with anxious excitement. She, along with Rita, Rue, Iris, and Allen, were at the Inn waiting for Debra to make a sleepy appearance. Akina had made sure to pick up an extra strong large hot coffee for the woman, strategically placing it in front of the empty chair next to her. This will definitely make her notice me. “I’m glad I’m able to come to this, but I hate that I’ve got to cover Saturday now,” Rue groaned, cutting through her thoughts. “They asked me to come in for Felicity’s shift because she got scouted by some other business…” “She did?” Iris asked. “Yeah,” Rue shrugged. “Some tall, pasty lady came in and offered her a job I guess. She pretty much jumped at the opportunity.” “It must pay really well,” Akina replied. Based on the few times she’d been inside the coffee shop, it had seemed like Felicity had really enjoyed working there. It was surprising to hear she’d left so suddenly. “I guess so…” Rue sighed. “Well, anyway, we know what we’re gonna ask Rika for the show, right?” “Love how that’s what you’re thinking of,” Allen muttered distractedly. Akina raised an eyebrow in intrigued confusion. “No, what are you going to ask her?” “Well, for starters, we’re asking the obvious stuff: Where’ve you been, what have you been doing, why are you back in Rhine City after all these years,” Rita explained. “But that comes after we tell her about Minerva, and if she wants to do an interview, Rue.” “Oh, she’ll want to seeing as we’re the best podcast in Rhine City,” Rue smirked. “What if she doesn’t?” Akina asked. “Then we’ll respect her feelings and not badger her,” Iris said cheerfully. “Maybe we can do another segment on that book your grandfather gave you, Rue.” “Iris, I think people want to hear me gush about Kristoph Bohn’s dusty old book of fairies about as much as I want to hear you talk about how Jotaro could beat Goku in a fight.” “Hm, that’s not a bad idea for a segment,” Iris teased. A loud yawn sounded from behind Akina, one she knew very well. “Alright, let’s get this over with,” Debra sighed. Be cool, Akina, she told herself as the groggy woman shuffled to the table and plopped into the seat next to her. “Is this mine?” she asked, staring at the lukewarm coffee. Akina turned her head towards Debra. “Oh, uh, yeah. I figured you’d need a pick-me-up.” “Oh. Uh, thanks,” Debra mumbled in reply before grabbing the coffee cup and taking a long gulp. “Is Minerva gonna join us, or is she still playing with Mr. Wake’s nieces?” Rita asked. “Playing.” She snorted and shook her head. “I have no idea how she can tolerate them. They’re exhausting.” We’re practically made for each other, Akina grinned. Their child-free ideologies only served as another example why they’d be a perfect fit. “It’s honestly amazing how much energy those little girls have,” Rita admitted, “but Miss Bright is built for it. She’s always loved kids as long as I’ve known her, and they love her right back.” “As cute as that all is, I believe we have business to attend to,” Allen grumbled. Akina hadn’t known him that long, but his attitude today really seemed uncharacteristically frustrated and nervous. “Yeah, stay on topic,” Debra scolded, taking another sip of coffee. “Right, right,” Rita said, shaking her head. “So, Iris and I are gonna close up; we already talked to her parents about it. Akina, you are gonna get Debra, swing by Liquid Heaven, grab Rue and Allen, and take the long route to get to Brightside’s.” Allen interjected, “Iris, do I really have to go? I think it’s a bad idea. I want you safe, but—“ “You’re coming, and that’s that.” Iris folded her arms. “You owe it to her.” Akina and Rita shared confused expressions before Akina prodded, “Why’s that?” Iris nudged him gently. “Tell them.” With a sigh, Allen muttered, “Rika and I dated a while ago. It ended on bad terms.” Debra nearly choked on her coffee before loudly demanding, “You what? Does Minerva know that?” “No. And the only reason I’m even telling you this is because Iris convinced me it wasn’t right to withhold this. I used to know her in high school, too. She dated my best friend.” “Well, holy fucking shit,” Rue exclaimed, slamming her hands on the table, “Iris, your boyfriend has been holding out on us.” “I still think you should come, Allen. Just in case. I know you’ll be able to keep us safe.” Iris gave him a sweet yet mysterious smile that seemed to make Allen soften a bit. “Hell no,” Debra spat. “Minerva finally has the chance to make things right with this girl, and you want to bring her ex-boyfriend? Are you insane?” Akina glanced at Iris. Debra had a point, but Iris was her friend. She wasn’t sure how to feel about the situation. Should she back up her crush, or stay quiet and let her friends handle it? “You know, I’m kinda wondering,” Rita chimed in, “what exactly is Miss Bright making right? What’s her connection to Rika?” With a shrug, Debra answered, “Jemima Mathers.” “O…kay, can you maybe… elaborate?” Rue asked. Shaking her head, Debra explained, “Not my place to say. If you want to know, you’re going to ask her yourself.” I can respect that, Akina noted. She knew the two were pretty close friends. Debra's loyalty to their leader was admirable and made her all the more attractive. “It could really only be something to do with her disappearance,” Allen said. “Is she the one Ryo had run her out of town?” “No. I’m the one who refused to do it.” Akina turned around to see Minerva entering the room with Wake’s two spirited nieces tumbling in after her. Wake was behind her, a wistful smile on his face as he watched the two girls. The smile evaporated entirely when he fixed his gaze on Allen, his eyes narrowing into a suspicious glare. What’s that all about? she wondered. Before she could dwell on it, she was distracted by Debra grumbling beneath her breath. “Great, the kids have joined us.” One of Wake’s nieces, the one in a lime-green tanktop, white shorts, and sandals pointed a toy laser gun at Debra and loudly exclaimed “PEW! PEWPEWPEW! Take that, Foxy Lady! You betrayed Star Command!” Akina held back a laugh when she saw Debra’s annoyed grimace. “Oh no,” the woman monotonously replied. “You got me.” “You’re supposed to go SPLORK!” the little girl whined. “That’s the sound a traitor makes when they get zapped, and you have betrayed our entire nation, Foxy Lady!” “Foxy Lady, huh?” Rue snickered. “Yeah!” the girl chirped. “I heard her called that by Miss Min—“ “Pickle! Enough, child!” Wake shouted, causing the little girl to whirl around and run towards him. Akina blinked in confusion. Pickle? That’s her name? Another little girl, one younger than Pickle, piped up, “Did we win?” The little girl was wearing a pastel pink leotard and a hot pink tutu, the colors made even more vivid by her sun-kissed honey skin and her long sienna-brown hair. She was holding a pink stuffed shark and was staring at her sister with wide dark brown eyes. “We did! We saved the universe!” Pickle cheered. “I couldn’t have done it without you, Tickle!” Tickle’s face lit up with excitement, and she raised her shark in the air. “Yay! We did it!” Beside her, Akina heard Debra grumble, “So much for getting anything done.” “Now that the universe is safe…” Minerva said as she took a seat at the table. “Ryo Amano came to Jemima ten years ago, ranting and raving incoherently. He said he needed his younger sister driven out of town, and he would do anything in return. I was her right-hand woman back then, so…” She sighed. “I refused, and I walked away that day. And that’s why we’re here.“ “Wait,” Akina frowned. “How old was Rika when this happened?” “Seventeen,” Minerva stated plainly. “Even if I had wanted to help Ryo, I’d never beat an underage girl. It’s insane.” “What the hell?” Akina whispered, her eyes widening. “And Jemima thought that was okay?” Rika must have done something really bad to warrant being kicked out of Rhine. Debra snorted. “Jemima Mathers doesn’t care about anyone except herself. Her whole ‘save the city’ plan is just to make herself look good.” “No, no. She’s genuine, but she’s… she’s slipped,” Minerva insisted, “and I need to pull her out before she completely loses herself.” “All this nonsense over some child,” Wake grumbled. “You ought to have just come to me and let me take care of things.” “You know full well why I didn’t,” Minerva grumbled. “Anyway… I’m hoping this meeting will let me make amends, if Rika wants that. I wish I could have done something to keep her safe…” “Then can we focus and go over the plan again?” Debra sighed before quickly downing the rest of her coffee. “I’m ready,” Akina insisted. “So, I’m picking up Debra and Rue, right?” “Yes. Debra, I’d say go to Liquid Heaven about one or two hours early. Drink your fill of coffee before the mission.” With a smirk, the woman replied, “I don’t know if that’s even possible.” Chuckling softly, Minerva turned to Allen and gave him a hard look. “So, are you going to be there? Even if it’s just waiting in the car. I definitely think it would be best if someone like you, with your skills, was there in case things go south. You understand me, right?” Allen’s eyes widened a bit, and he and Iris exchanged a glance before he slowly said, “Alright. I’ll be at Liquid Heaven.” “Well then, that settles that,” Minerva nodded. “You all know what you need to do, and I trust you to be careful. Just remember, girls: Getting Rika to safety first, podcast interview second.” In unison, Rita, Rue, and Iris said, “Yes, Miss Bright.” Debra yawned. “Are we done?” “With this? Yes. I’m going to go back to playing with Pickle and Tickle now. I think Star Command may just have a new mission for those two…” The two young girls bounced excitedly. Debra stretched her arms above her head, her baggy t-shirt lifting up as though daring Akina to sneak a peek at her navel beneath it. “Right, then I’m going back to bed.” “Stop by my room in a little while, Debra. There’s a few things I need to discuss with you,” Minerva said as she led the two cheering children out of the room. “Yeah, yeah.” The woman grabbed what was probably an empty cardboard coffee cup by now and started shuffling out of the kitchen. Akina’s friends started excitedly chattering about the upcoming mission. Since they were distracted, she decided now was the perfect time to talk to Debra. Maybe this will be my chance to finally get noticed! She followed Debra down the hallway just past the kitchen that led to the Inn's rooms and shouted out, “Hey, Debra! Hold up a sec.” Debra paused a moment before turning around. She waited expectantly as Akina approached her with a confused expression. Be brave, Akina told herself. “Hey, so, since I’m getting you from the coffee shop anyway, I figured I could just hangout with you there. Coffee’s on me!” With a deep sigh, Debra grumbled, “I can buy my own coffee.” Akina faltered a second, not expecting that reaction. She quickly recovered with a short laugh. “Oh, yeah, of course. I’ll just meet you there, then. I’ve got nothing else going on tomorrow.” The woman groaned and rubbed her forehead for a moment, her eyes closed in what appeared to be irritation. “Look,” she started, “you’re a… nice girl and all, but I’m not interested.” Her cheeks stung like she'd been slapped, and her smile disappeared. Unsure what to say, she stammered, “Wh-What do you mean?” One eye popped open. “You’re not really subtle at this whole crush thing, Akina.” Her blood ran cold in anxious fear. “What? C-Crush? No way, I—” “Thanks for the coffee and all,” Debra interrupted, “but I’m not interested.” With that, the woman turned back around, continuing down the hall and leaving Akina feeling like the wind had been completely sucker punched out of her. Akina could barely breathe. Had Debra known this whole time? Embarrassment crept into her cheeks. She wanted to hide from the world, change her name, and move to an entirely new city. How stupid could she have been? Of course Debra wasn’t interested in her. Why would she be? She’s so cool, and I’m just… Akina. A loud thump from behind her caught her attention. She whirled around to see Allen, pinned to the wall by Mr. Wake near the entrance to the kitchen. Akina's eyes widened. What was going on? “Let me be clear, you little lamprey,” Wake hissed, his voice more vicious than she’d ever heard it since meeting him, “I know what you are, I know what you’re up to, and I will not hesitate to tear you apart.” “You have no idea what I’m up to,” Allen gasped. His eyes darted to the side, staring at Akina. Wake followed his gaze, turning toward her as well. She wasn’t sure what she’d just accidentally witnessed, but she didn’t want to become a part of it. “S-Sorry,” she stammered, unsure why she was really apologizing. Before either Allen or Wake could respond, she rushed past them. How had she been utterly humiliated twice? As if it wasn’t bad enough Debra had turned her down, then she had seen something she clearly wasn’t supposed to. There was only one place she wanted to be at that moment, and it definitely wasn’t at the Inn. With her head down, Akina quickly hurried towards the front door. “Akina!” came the sound of Rita’s voice from behind her. She really didn’t want to stop, but she also didn’t want to be rude and ignore her friend. Swallowing her pain, she slowly turned around. “Hey.” “We were gonna head on out and get some ice cream, did you wa—“ Rita paused, her eyes widening in concern. “Akina, are you alright?” She didn’t exactly want to lie, so she skirted around the truth. “I just want to get home.” “Oh, well, um, alright…” Rita muttered nervously. “Are you sure you’re okay? You seem kinda rattled…” “I’ll be fine.” “If you’re sure…” Rita turned around, but paused and added, “If you want to talk later, call me, okay? Whatever’s bugging you, I’m here for you.” “Okay,” she agreed, though she was already convinced she wasn’t going to. Talking about it would be even more humiliating than having to admit to herself it even happened. Before Rita could say anything else, Akina hurried out of the Inn. She had told herself she would only allow herself to cry and be upset once she got home, but the second she was safe inside her car, the tears poured out. How could I be so stupid? To think for even a second that any woman, much less one as rad as Debra, would be interested in a nobody like her… She should have known better. And now Debra surely thought of her as nothing but a fool. You can’t drive home like this. She forcefully wiped the tears from her eyes and took a deep breath. When she was sure she felt calm enough, she started the car and sped out of the driveway. She had less than twenty-four hours to mope and pull herself together before she was expected to be at the coffee shop. How was she even supposed to face Debra again? She had been looking forward to the mission all day, but now she was dreading it. The all-important mission that Minerva had been trying to accomplish for years was finally happening, and Akina somehow had to put today behind her so she didn’t ruin it. You get one day to yourself, Akina, she strictly told herself as she forcefully started her car. One day. Then it’s back to work. The world doesn’t revolve around you, and it doesn’t give a fuck about one little gay black girl in shitty Rhine City. ****** Lying on her bed an hour after the girls had left, Minerva blankly stared at her ceiling feeling absolutely exhausted. Pickle and Tickle had worn her out with their space adventures, which had gone on for much of the afternoon after the brief planning session. It was frankly astounding how much energy the two children had but considering they were part of Wake’s family, there was a good reason for that. She let out a deep sigh. Rita and her friends were so excited about the big mission tomorrow as were a lot of the crew since they would finally be meeting the girl who had inadvertently set Minerva on her journey to save Jemima from herself. However, it was hard for her to muster up that same joy considering the date: June 30th. It was the date her father had been killed by an unknown assailant. It was the date that Rita’s mother had vanished only to be found dead days later. It was a date defined by misfortune, disappearances, and death. But even if Rita and her friends had their suspicions, they didn’t know the truth and telling them would expose them to a world of danger. How exactly was Minerva supposed to explain to them how right their podcast was? How was she supposed to rip the blinders away and expose them to the truth of the world that they already believed in their hearts? She’d promised Rita that she’d find answers for her, but it would take more than her word to make Rita believe no matter how much the girl loved the supernatural. An unexpected knock at the door pulled her back to the present. “Is that you, Debra?” “Yeah,” her friend grumbled from the other side of the door. “Come in,” Minerva replied. She was honestly dreading this conversation, but it needed to be done, especially if she was going out on the 30th. Still wearing her pajamas from that morning, Debra entered with a yawn. “Everyone finally gone?” she asked, the door shutting behind her. “Yes, they left a few hours ago,” Minerva sighed, sitting up in her bed. “I’m so worried about the girls.” “They’ll be fine,” the woman reassured her, crossing her arms over her chest as she came to a stop at the foot of her bed. “You say that, but… there’s a lot that could happen tomorrow. You know what day it is.” “Yeah,” Debra nodded. “But I’ll be on my guard, and you got Cora keeping an eye out on us. We’ll be fine.” “Well, just to be safe…” She reached down under her bed and pulled a small box out. “I’m going to give you my mother’s revolver, alright? Eight silver bullets so you have eight shots. If anything strange happens, don’t overthink, just fire.” Debra cocked an eyebrow, but simply grumbled, “Yeah, alright. But why the hell are they silver bullets?” “Because my mother knew things most people don’t, and so prepared for whatever dangers might arise,” Minerva said quietly, setting the gun on her bedside table. Debra stared at her blankly for several long seconds before shrugging. “Okay.” “Okay,” Minerva sighed, relieved. Wanting to change the subject, she added, “So… how was your nap?” With another shrug, her friend answered, “Fine, I guess. Never really does the job.” “Maybe you should cut back on the caffeine,” she teased. With a blank stare that spoke volumes, Debra monotonously answered, “No.” “You’re hilarious, you know that?” Minerva laughed. Small talk had never been her friend’s forte so she switched back to business. “Let me ask you something. How do you think things will go tomorrow?” With a shrug, she answered, “For your sake? I hope it goes perfectly, and we end up bringing her back here.” “I hope so too,” Minerva murmured. “I owe that girl so much. I should have done more to protect her, but I was too busy running and hiding and saving my own skin…” “It’s in the past,” Debra interjected. “Don’t linger on it. Won’t do you any good.” “It’s in the present now, too. But you’re right, I shouldn’t dwell on it, especially when I have to move forward. With Rika, with Rita, and with you.” “You’re missing a few people,” she joked. “We’ve got more than two in this group, you know.” “Yes, but… well… Do you remember when we first met, Debra?” “In the diner?” she snorted. “Hard to forget.” Minerva smiled wistfully. “You were grumbling about something or other while looking over a bunch of files on your table. One of my waitresses was concerned, so I came over. And though you griped a bit, I sat down with you and had a coffee. And we talked. You told me about your work, and I was just so enraptured I decided I would let you have your meal on the house. Truth be told, I’d wondered if I’d ever see you again, and then, the next day, I did. There you were, again, grumbling over your files… And you just kept coming and coming, day after day. And I don’t think I ever mentioned how… comforting it was. I’d just lost my parents—I didn’t know what I was doing—but there you were. You were my rock in those troubled times. You’ve always been my rock, Debra.” “Gotta repay you somehow for letting me take up a table for several hours a day back then,” she lamely joked. Debra never had been very sentimental and looked mildly uncomfortable. Still, Minerva pressed on. What she had to confess was too important. “I bring this all up because… I know you’ve been frustrated because I’ve spent a lot of the past ten years trying to keep you out of the action. Letting other people in the organization handle hard tasks, calling in Cora once we moved into the inn, keeping you away from Wake… There is a reason, though.” The woman lifted a dark brow beneath her messy bedhead hair. Crossing her arms over her baggy, faded t-shirt of a retired local band, she grunted, “Okay?” “The reason is… I love you.” Silence was thick in the room as she watched Debra’s nonchalant expression turn first to confusion, then to shock. When she finally spoke, it was a lackluster, “Oh.” Minerva couldn’t help it; she burst out laughing. “Oh, god, I’m sorry Debra,” she managed to gasp out, “that’s just such a… such a you response to that.” The woman looked genuinely embarrassed. She dropped her arms to her sides, and her eyes moved to stare at something on Minerva’s left. “Sorry. I, uh… I’m not really sure how to respond to that.” “It’s okay, Debra. I didn’t really expect you to do somersaults or anything crazy like that.” With a snort, she remarked, “Me? Do somersaults?” “I know, it’s more unbelievable than anything I could think of,” Minerva replied dryly. “I’m sorry, though. I didn’t mean to spring this on you right before this big mission, but I’m scared. If anything happens to either of us, I just wanted you to know how I feel.” “I guess I can’t blame you for that. We’ll be fine, though.” There was another brief moment of silence between them before, in a tone that sounded more curious than usual, Debra questioned, “Why me, exactly? I’m not an attractive or desirable woman, you know.” Minerva shook her head. “I think you’re beautiful. But that’s not what made me attracted to you. It’s who you are and what you’ve meant to me these past ten years. I love you for being the constant presence in my life that’s kept me from just completely losing hope.” Using lame humor again as a deflection from the tender moment, Debra joked, “Someone had to, so might as well have been me.” “I'm glad you did because aside from you, only Wake could’ve really been there. There’s a reason coming to him was a last resort.” This apparently interested her friend as she let out an intrigued, “Oh?” Minerva paused. She couldn’t exactly tell Debra the truth and not just because it was so insane she would never believe it. It just wasn’t any of her business to reveal Wake’s secrets. “Wake,” she finally said, “is a rather vengeful man. I want there to be peace between Jemima and I again. Wake, he’d be likely to go to war with Jemima. And he’d win easily. But at what cost?” “What if peace isn’t what Jemima wants? What then?” She considered this. What if? Jemima had been a close friend, a confidante, a strong figure in her life when she’d lost just about everyone else. She didn’t want to believe she was beyond saving, but what if she was? What if war was what she wanted, and she truly would settle for nothing less than Minerva and her gang being crushed? There was really only one solution, and it chilled her to even consider it. “Then only God can help her because I’ll ask Wake to handle things in his way.” “Damn,” Debra whistled. “I honestly didn’t think you had it in you to even consider that.” “I don’t want to, but I can’t just keep everyone here in danger, especially not with everything going on. Have you seen the news? Jemima has been rubbing elbows with a Countess.” With a sigh and a roll of her eyes, Debra muttered, “Of course she is.” “Apparently, this Countess has some powerful allies. We need to get Rika on our side because if we do, I think we can end this without resorting to anything too extreme.” Debra gently sat down on the foot of Minerva’s bed. “You really believe that, huh?” “I know it, Debra. Do you want to know how I know it?” Minerva scooted over to her bedside drawer and after a moment of rummaging about, she moved back to sit next to Debra, presenting her with an ornately crafted golden pocket watch. “After my father was shot and after my mother disappeared, Rika’s father came into the diner and gave me this. He told me, ‘Everything happens for a reason, Miss Bright. Cruelty happens because people are cruel, and kindness happens because people are kind. It seems so obvious, doesn’t it? Someday I think you will do something incredibly kind, incredibly meaningful.’ And he gave me this watch. It hasn’t worked since he disappeared, but the other night, when I saw Rika on the news again… I heard it ticking from all the way down in the living room.” Debra stared at her skeptically. She didn’t say anything, but Minerva could imagine what she was thinking, a benefit to being friends with the woman for a decade. “Trust me, I know how crazy this sounds to you,” Minerva sighed. “I used to think things like this sounded crazy, too. But you need to trust me, alright? I promise I can explain myself soon, but I’m still looking for the right words… Especially since I have to explain things to Rita, too.” “I trust you,” she reassured her. “I’m just wondering if you’re losing your marbles.” “Just wait. I’m going to sound absolutely bonkers soon enough.” Minerva sighed heavily. “I’m sorry to dump all this on you right before a big mission. Especially since you’re going to be dealing with Akina’s less-than-subtle advances.” Debra shifted beside her before confessing, “Actually, I finally told her I’m not interested.” “How did she take it?” Minerva asked, dreading the answer. The poor girl was truly smitten with Debra, and Debra was not the most tactful woman on the planet. “I’m pretty sure you can guess,” she shrugged. “Oh dear.” “I’m really just glad I can stop pretending like I don’t notice. It was getting really annoying with her trying to be near me all the damn time.” “She’s just a girl, barely out of her teens…” Minerva pointed out before exhaling as the stress of the next day seeped back into her mind. “Which is all the more reason to be concerned. I never wanted to drag younger people into my world, and now they’re going out on June 30th to help me with this… It’s like a never-ending parade of stress.” “Relax,” Debra told her sternly. “Remember, you’ve got me and Cora to keep them safe. Nothing bad is going to happen.” “I know, I know,” Minerva sighed, “but it’s hard not to be worried when we’re close to something big.” “I guess that’s fair,” Debra shrugged. “But you trust me, right?” “More than anyone else.” “Then let me do my job. You should… I don’t know, sleep for now.” “I should…” Minerva paused, a bold idea popping into her head. “I don’t suppose you’d mind staying in here with me?” With a playful smirk, she grumbled, “You just want an excuse to sleep with me.” “You really are an amazing detective,” Minerva teased. Debra rolled her eyes. “I guess I can oblige. It’s not like I wasn’t going to go back to bed myself anyway.” With a triumphant grin, Minerva laid back down on her pillow, patting the spot next to her. Debra crawled across the bed and plopped down next to her. “Goodnight, Debra,” Minerva sighed. “Goodnight, Minerva,” Debra echoed. Minerva closed her eyes, her anxiety beginning to melt away as she drifted off to sleep with Debra beside her. And really, why should she worry? Debra had never let her down before, so why would she now? ****** Plans were smoothly coming together pretty well for Jason’s operation. Thanks to Vinny, the gang knew how to infiltrate the birthday party of their next target: A man named Arthur Oakley. Vinny had secured a legitimate uniform for Rika to dress as a caterer so she could let everyone else in. It seemed iffy, especially if one of the actual employees realized she wasn’t part of the crew, but it was a risk Jason was willing to take. As usual, everyone was gathered in the living room for a briefing, listening to a rundown of the plan for the sixth time. Thankfully, most of them seemed to be in a good mood and were focused, nodding along and answering his questions to ensure every detail was memorized. There was only one issue that was bothering Jason. “Where the hell is Val?” he eventually sighed. Anna, who was sitting cross-legged on the floor leaning against the couch, offered, “Maybe he’s trying out some of that makeup he got?” “Maybe he decided instead of doing this, we should all go get drunk?” David yawned. “Except Aiden and Anna. They’ll have to have lemonade or something.” Anna rolled her eyes in response. “Maybe he’s jealous I got a cute boyfriend and haven’t stopped talking about him since I got here?” Lilith shrugged. A door slamming upstairs and a loud, agonized groan could be heard, followed by stomping footsteps. A moment later, a very miserable and irritated looking Val stormed into the living room. “I have some real bad news,” he grumbled. Anna’s face fell. “Don’t tell me we have to call the whole thing off.” “No, it’s even worse! My favorite steamer is going on hiatus!” Everyone in the room groaned in unison, but no one was louder than Jason. “Come on man, are you shitting me? You’re huffing and puffing and freaking us out over some gamer taking a vacation?” “Don’t you get it? This is coded language! She’s quitting because of the assholes who make fun of her weight! Who am I gonna watch speedrun Devil May Cry 3 now?!” “No idea man, but maybe stay focused on the vigilante bullshit you wanna do so bad instead of video game streamers,” he noted dryly. Grumbling, Val slumped up against the wall and folded his arms across his chest. The room went quiet, and Jason could feel several sets of eyes on him. Surprisingly, it was Aiden who spoke up first. “Maybe you should send her a message or something. If that’s why she’s going on a break, she’d probably appreciate the support.” Val seemed to soften a bit. “Yeah, yeah that’s a good idea…” “Gotta show solidarity like you always say, bro,” Jason agreed. “You’ve got that right, Jay! Now you gonna fill everyone in on how this night’s gonna go down?” Jason nodded. “You all ready?” Despite this being the seventh time they’d rehearsed the details, Anna sat up straight. “Ready!” Everyone else chimed in with agreement, so Jason didn’t hesitate to begin. “Alright, Vinny got us intel on Oakley and man, he’s a piece of work. Motherfucker has six DUIs under his belt, and killed at least two in an accident. He got off by bribing Chief Rigby back before she got dumped in the river.” “Six fucking DUIs,” Lilith said, shaking her head in disgust as she had every single time they’d gone over this. “No one can say shit about my driving ever again, I’ve never even hit a mailbox when I’m going twice the speed limit.” “There’s more, but let’s be real: Rich white guy in Rhine City? He’s done some shit.” “That’s for sure,” Anna angrily grumbled. A need for vengeance was written all over her face. “Well he’ll be paying a pretty penny for his bullshit tonight, Popsicle,” Jason smirked. “Lilith, you wanna explain this?” “Do I ever!” Lilith exclaimed as she strutted to the center of the room. “Ok, so Vinny pulled some strings so that we can infiltrate the party, right? Our girl Rika here is gonna go in disguised as one of the caterers.” Winking at Rika, she declared, “You’re up, girl!” “Hey,” Rika waved cheerfully from where she sat. “So, I’m going to get in as a caterer, and since that’s a job it counts as an invitation… Here’s the neat thing, though: As long as he doesn’t explicitly tell me to get out, I can stay in with no problems. If I go off and hide as the party comes to a close, I can have free movement in his house as long as I’m careful.” “And from there, she’s gonna shut off the cameras and other security so we can get in and do our thing,” Jason finished. “And from what I hear, Vinny has his best guy on the job to sneak in and take pictures!” Val chirped. “We just gotta leave the gate open so he can get in!” “Hope you all got disguises ready,” Jason said. “Do I need one?” Aiden asked shyly. “Nah, you’ll be in the car with me,” Lilith reassured, “so just wear whatever you’ll be comfy in.” “Question,” David asked, “how long is this gonna take? I wanted to go drinking with Sierra.” “Um, I think fighting crime is a little more important than dating my sister,” Val said, rolling his eyes. “Wait, what? You’re dating Sierra?” Jason said, confused. Dating was literally the last thing he imagined his sister would be doing, especially a member of the gang she was so opposed to Val having created. “Less ‘dating,’ more ‘being tolerated by,’” David snorted. “I mean, I wouldn’t be opposed. But she’s not interested, and I respect that.” “Not interested my ass,” Val laughed. “Fine, whatever! You can stand guard, and if we’re not done by 12, go off to the bar and get us a table. We’re all gonna celebrate there!” “Cool,” David shrugged. “I’ll try and convince your sister not to kill you.” Quietly, Anna mumbled, “Could you ask her why she hates me so much?” David didn’t seem like he heard her, but Jason definitely did. “Alright,” he said, resolving to talk to her when this was done, “if we’re all clear, let’s get a move on. Rika’s gotta go in a couple hours, so let’s make sure we’re ready for our parts.” As the rest of the gang dispersed, Jason sat down next to Anna. “You doing okay, Popsicle?” “Yeah,” she grinned, her momentary bitterness from a minute ago gone. “I’m really glad we can keep doing this for my dad.” “I’m glad, too,” he agreed. “It was hard figuring out where to even start, and this was just what we needed.” He grinned. “It’s making for one hell of a weird first date, too.” She laughed nervously, tucking a chunk of her blue hair behind her left ear. “Yeah, I guess so, huh? But it’s kinda fitting in a way.” “Heh, I guess so.” He paused for a moment before letting out a sigh. “Y’know, this isn’t what I imagined I’d be doing back when I was in high school. Breaking into rich asshole’s houses, punching criminals, hanging out with vampires…” “What did you think you’d be doing?” “I honestly thought I’d be acting. Maybe not on Broadway, but I definitely thought I’d be onstage considering all the praise and offers I got… Which dried up real quick after I went to jail.” Anna quietly considered this for a moment before asking, “Have you done any auditions since you got out?” “I did, but you know how places around here are about folks with criminal records. Any chance I have at acting is pretty much dead. Least I can use my skills for the Loveless shit, like that speech I gave? That’s like the stuff I used to do in high school.” “You really enjoyed it,” she noted quietly. “You looked like a natural.” “I miss it a lot. Shit, I’d rather be doing that. I’m not really big on vigilantism if I’m being honest. I’m glad I’m helping people. I’m glad I’m helping you and your dad. But I’ve just never really liked fighting or violence… And why would I with a dad like I had?” Anna cocked her head to the right. “So, like, what if you did audition for something and get a part?” “It’d be a miracle,” he laughed. “I’d need the endorsement of someone real big if they were gonna overlook the jail time. I’m talking Jemima Mathers big.” With a smirk, Anna asked, “Well, isn’t that who we are trying to get the attention of?” “That’s the idea. She’s been cleaning up this city for years, so if we could work with her…” It was something of a pipe dream but Jemima had been a big hero to him growing up. “We will,” Anna said, clear determination in her voice. “And you’re going to be the best actor this city has seen. Hell, maybe even in the whole country!” “Let’s not oversell me; I’m not that good,” he laughed. Definitely appreciate the stroking of my ego, though. “You know… There’s some old VHS tapes lying around here somewhere with plays I was in that Mom filmed. Maybe we can watch them after this mission’s done.” Anna’s face lit up. “Really? That’d be awesome!” She paused for a second before adding, “Maybe if our first date goes well, it can be our second?” He gave her an enthusiastic smile. “Sounds like a plan, Popsicle.” ****** Arthur Oakley was an incredibly daft rich white man who overcompensated for what was likely a small member by letting nearly everyone into his ridiculously large home. It had been easy for Rika to gain access in her disguise; the man nearly pushed her into the house along with the rest of the catering team (who definitely glanced at her suspiciously but didn’t say anything). It was so crowded in the house that she had easily been able to sneak away and blend in to scope out the home’s security. Oakley had a few guards on duty who had made the task a tad complicated as she wandered around, but a few rewinds erased any encounters she’d had. Her main task was to find the camera room, which was located at the back half of the first floor. It was designed exactly like what you might expect to see in an early 2000’s spy movie, which made perfect sense considering how Oakley seemed to lack any sort of street smarts. The room was very small with several monitors mounted to one of the walls displaying the view from cameras around the house. An overweight man, who looked quite tired, sat in front of them. He had spotted her when she had walked in, which had resulted in a quick rewind, but not before she memorized the code to the alarm system, which was taped to one of the side walls. Whether that was Oakley’s doing or his security team’s she wasn’t sure, but she was thankful whoever was responsible was as incompetent as they were. She had also spotted the gate controls installed by the camera screens and gathered the guard in the room was tasked with both keeping an eye out and letting in visitors. Since she’d spotted the alarm system by the front door when she’d entered, all of the house's security had been located and her first task was complete. After she had wound back time to being caught by the camera guy, she had swiftly made her way to the second floor, which was shockingly unguarded as all the security was downstairs keeping an eye on the party. She’d quickly found a linen closet on the second floor and squeezed inside. From there, it was simply a waiting game. So long as she wasn’t directly told to leave, she could stay indefinitely, or at least that’s what Victoria had said earlier that afternoon when she’d explained in detail to Rika her own knowledge of the invitation a resident extended to a vampire. Though she had expected to be waiting for hours, the night had ended quite early after Oakley had apparently gotten a bit too drunk and groped one of his guests. Rika could hear the wicked slap all the way from where she was hiding. A chain reaction of chaos ensued. From what she could hear, guests were yelling and slamming the front door shut repeatedly and Oakley was begging everyone to stay. Eventually, the house quieted and she heard the man muttering to himself as he stumbled to what she’d gathered was his bedroom. She’d waited a few long minutes more until Oakley’s snoring echoed through the home. Finally. It was time to get to work. With a grin, she quietly left the closet to begin the hardest part of the mission: Neutralizing the security. Except it hadn’t been that hard at all. It took her less than twenty minutes to stealthily ambush the three guards still on patrol inside and the camera guy and knock them out by draining some of their blood. Since she merely wanted to incapacitate them and not kill them, she made sure to inject a little bit of her venom to heal them (yet another trick she’d learned from Victoria). Once they were down for the count, she waltzed into the camera room and disabled each and every one. Now that the threat inside the house was gone, her next task was to remove the outside security. She hurried to the front door to disable the alarm system using the code Oakley had foolishly made so easily accessible in his camera room. Once that was done, she opened the door and repeated her process of lightly draining blood from the one guard standing at the door. Done and done. Her final job was to let the rest of the crew inside. Closing the front door (but leaving it unlocked), she went to the camera room where the guard was snoozing quite peacefully and fiddled with the controls to open the front gate. She could practically hear Lilith’s car speeding down the driveway as soon as she’d sent a text to Jason letting him know everything was set. She met the crew at the front door. Anna and Jason were both wearing the same outfits from the last mission while Val was wearing what looked like his Wendy’s mascot outfit with a blue bob cut wig. “All the hard work’s done, so you guys just need to go in and do the Loveless stuff,” she said, giving the squad a thumbs up. “Thanks, girl!” Val chirped. “You’re sure you took care of all the guards?” “Like 98% sure. The only ones I saw on the camera when I shut things off were the guys I knocked out, and they’re all fast asleep. Unless there’s a ninja hiding somewhere, it should be smooth sailing.” “Wonder where Vinny’s guy is,” Jason asked, glancing around. “He’s supposed to be snapping pics for us.” Rika shrugged. “I have no idea, and I didn’t see anyone besides the staff on the cameras. If he’s already here, he must be able to turn invisible.” “Maybe he bailed,” Anna shrugged. “Ugh, he better not have!” Val groaned. “If I have to film everything again instead of beating up this asshole…” “Beating up assholes is Anna and I’s job,” Jason reminded him. “That was the agreement. I do this if you keep away from the violence.” “Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Val grumbled. They entered the house, which was now eerily still and silent. Rika shuddered as she led her comrades up to the second floor where the master bedroom was located. She had a very bad feeling as they approached, like dreadful anxiety. Once they finally reached the door, she held her hand up, signaling for them to stop. “Let me go in first,” she whispered. “Just in case.” Anna flashed her a thumbs up, and Jason nodded in agreement. Without another word, Rika slowly cracked the door open and silently slipped into the room. As soon as she stepped in, she was awestruck by the impressively large window adjacent to her right. The white moon was nature’s nightlight, gently illuminating the bedroom. Rika didn’t have a chance to really appreciate its beauty as she caught movement out of the corner of her eye. “Huh?” she muttered. Whatever thoughts she might have had next were interrupted by the roar of a shotgun, the smashing of glass shattering behind her, and blinding, agonizing pain. Everything around her went incredibly blurry as her body did its best to heal from the attack she’d just suffered. Slowly her senses returned, and she began to get her bearings. It seemed as if she’d tumbled out the window; there was glass all around her on the grass, and she could feel a few pieces digging into her torso. She could hear faint yelling from above her that sounded like her friends. Slowly and steadily, she pushed herself off the ground and got to her feet. She glanced down at her stomach. There were a few long, sharp glass shards poking out. This is going to suck. With a sigh, she began to pull them out as quickly as possible, wincing and ignoring the brief gush of blood that followed each one. When she pulled out the final piece, she turned around to hurry to the front door. Whatever was going on inside, she knew her friends needed her help. However, that plan went out the window like she just had as she spotted a very familiar face just a few feet away from her, one that was currently as white as a sheet. It was the last person she’d ever expected to see here of all places but even in her dazed state, she felt that it made some sort of sense. Awkwardly, she held up her hand in greeting. “Uh… Hey, Easy.” Understandably, he was completely speechless. His usually tired eyes were wide open, and he almost looked more scared than horrifyingly shocked. It dawned on her that Easy was probably the guy Vinny had sent, which suddenly made his appearance at their first mission make a whole lot more sense. All at once, she went into panic mode. Shit, how far back can I rewind? Rika thought nervously. Maybe she could dodge the bullet and avoid freaking the poor guy out? Concentrating as hard as she could, she activated her power. Time rewound itself until it finally stopped thirty seconds prior, which was when she had first stood up and started pulling the glass out of her stomach. “Fuck me,” she breathed, turning around to once again face the terrified Easy. Awkwardly waving once more, she said, “Hey, Easy. I—” She looked down, realizing she’d forgotten to remove the pieces of glass this time. The shards were slowly pushing themselves out of her body as she healed, falling to the grass below with a soft thud. She glanced back up at Easy and flashed an incredibly nervous smile, one she was fairly certain showed off her fangs. “Um… Well. This is really, really awkward…” She watched his mouth start to move, but no sound came out. If he had been freaked out the first time, he was full-blown panicked now. “Look,” she began, holding up her hands, “I can explain if you… if you can just take a deep breath and relax.” Easy let out a breathy laugh that sounded like it took too much effort to produce. “R-Relax… Yeah…” he mumbled almost entirely inaudibly. “Hey, I’m the one who just got shot and impaled with glass,” she joked, knowing full well this was not exactly funny in the slightest. ”You’re fine in comparison! Just, you know, probably really… really confused.” Easy slowly nodded. “Just… a bit…” He looked a little less pale than he had seconds ago. “Uh, so…” She rubbed the back of her head in frustration. How the hell was she going to explain this? “I’m… Uh. I’m a vampire.” Wow, way to ease him into it, moron. He stared at her blankly. She had no idea what was going through his mind since his face gave no clues whatsoever. “I know that sounds unbelievable,” she admitted, silently chastising herself once more for just blurting it out, “but I just survived a shotgun blast and multiple impalements and, uh, no wounds!” She lifted up her shirt a bit to show off her stomach, which had likely healed up completely by now save for whatever blood had made its way onto her skin. His eyes widened once more as he stared at her navel. “How…?” he whispered. “I can heal really fast, among other things,” she explained. “I know it’s a lot to take in. My friends upstairs all needed a bit of time for it to sink in, but… I swear it’s the truth. Being a vampire I mean.” “Did I get drugged?” he mumbled, mostly to himself but it was impossible for her hearing not to pick up on it. She bent over and picked one of the bloody glass shards off the ground. “Do I need to demonstrate again?” He hurriedly answered, “Please don’t.” “Ok, ok,” she replied, dropping the glass and holding her hands up. “You okay down there?” Jason called from the window. He was peering down from behind the shattered pane, concern in his voice and wariness in his eyes. “You find another guard?” “No, no,” she reassured him, “I think this is our guy. You know, the guy we talked about.” “He’s our guy?” Jason asked. “Guy?” Easy echoed. He wasn’t following along very well. “Were you sent by a guy whose name begins with V?” Rika whispered to him. He blinked a few times, like he was trying to get himself to focus. “Vinny?” “Yeah!” Rika nodded. “Yeah,” he nodded in return. “I get jobs from him.” “Ok, cool,” Jason nodded, “you want to come up and get some pics, then?” “Y-Yeah, sure.” His eyes shifted to Rika from behind his glasses. “I, uh… got some before… you know.” “Yeah. Uh, want me to toss you up there? So you don’t have to waste time walking around?” The man looked wary. “Uh… I’ll be fine…” “Look man, just let her throw you up,” Val interjected, pushing past Jason and leaning out the window. “We’re wasting time. The guards could wake up any minute and that would ruin the whole night!” This seemed to bring out some of the Easy Rika knew because he narrowed his eyes and grumbled, “I’m not some amateur. I know what I’m doing.” “It’s fine! I’ll walk him in!” she called out. She turned back to Easy and gestured with her head. “Come on, let’s go.” He didn’t look happy about it, but he followed with his phone in his hand. She noticed he was keeping a few feet of distance from her. “I’m not gonna bite you, Easy,” she sighed. “I don’t know that,” he quietly and rather calmly responded. “If I really wanted to bite you I would’ve done it the other night when I first met you,” she huffed. “Besides, um… I already ate tonight. I’m kinda full.” “Gross,” he muttered under his breath. She instinctively rubbed her left arm nervously. She didn’t know why, but his words stung pretty harshly. “Geez, do you always make girls feel this self-conscious?” He was quiet behind her, almost like he didn’t know how to respond. “Look,” Rika sighed, “I didn’t… choose this. My ex, he decided to do this to me while I was asleep. I’m just trying to make the most of this, a—“ She would have continued her thought, but as she opened the front door to lead Easy inside she ran face first into the invisible barrier meant to prevent her uninvited entrance. She stumbled backwards, rubbing her nose in frustration. “Shit.” “Uh… What was that?” Easy asked in clear confusion. “I can’t go inside unless I’m invited in,” she explained, feeling really embarrassed she hadn’t considered this might happen, “and I doubt Oakley would want to let me back in.” “Oh.” An awkward silence settled between the two. Easy looked like he was debating whether or not to help. “It’s fine,” she sighed, gesturing to the door, “just… go on without me. I’ll wait here.” Without a word, he rushed inside. Great, she thought, sitting down in front of the door and putting her head in her hands. This night was turning into an absolute disaster for her; she was pretty sure Easy wanted nothing to do with her now, which meant she was going alone (or not at all) to the diner. Whatever it was her dad had been trying to tell her was now rendered meaningless because Easy had been in the wrong place at the wrong time. The hot sting of tears burned her eyes, and her right hand gripped her left forearm tightly. She had no idea why it was so upsetting to her, but upset she was. It hurt far more than any glass shard that had been embedded in her. “Done. Got them,” Easy said, returning to the front door. She hadn’t even heard him coming, which meant he really was good at what he did. When she lifted her head to look at him, he stopped short and stared at her. “You, uh, didn’t really miss anything. I can show you the pictures, if you want.” “It’s, uh, fine,” she sniffed, hurriedly wiping her eyes and hoping he didn’t notice. “I’m sure you did a good job.” Easy hesitated a few seconds before asking, “Is there any way I can get you in?” She shook her head. “Only someone who lives here or has some sort of authority can. It’s fine, it’s whatever. As long as my friends didn’t get hurt and the job is done, I don’t care.” “Then why are you crying?” he asked pointedly. “I-I’m not crying!” she exclaimed a little too loudly for it to be believable. “Okay,” he shrugged. He stepped through the threshold of the doorway. “Job’s done, so I’m headed home unless you need me for anything else.” “If I did need you for something else, you’d do it?” He slowly answered, “If it’s part of the job, yeah. I guess.” She paused a beat before nervously asking, “Do you want to go get drinks with the gang? Um, like at a bar. I’m the only vampire. And, you know, I like alcohol too anyway… Still gotta eat and drink, and, uh… Yeah.” Easy hesitated. “Uh…” “You don’t have to,” she insisted, “I won’t make you or anything, I just… You know. It’ll be fun, I think.” He peered at her suspiciously. “Why do you want me there?” “Well, I guess… If you’re gonna come with me to that thing at Brightside’s tomorrow, it would be nice to get to know you better.” “Why?” She tilted her head to the side. “Why not?” “No, I mean, why do you want me there?” He looked genuinely confused now, though the suspicion was still present. “I mean… you helped us out, twice now apparently. And if you’re still willing to help me tomorrow, I guess buying you a few drinks is a preemptive thank you.” He grunted and rubbed his head. “Is this real?” “I’m the one who died for a second there and you’re the one having trouble processing things?” she snorted. “Yeah,” he answered shortly. “I didn’t exactly wake up this morning expecting to be told the supernatural exist.” “I think everyone who gets told that goes through a crisis. All the more reason to drink, right?” She shot him a nervous smile, one she hoped didn’t show off her fangs quite as much. He considered this for a moment before saying, “Give me one good reason why I should trust you.” She sighed. “What would I have to gain from lying to you? I was literally just out here crying because I thought you weren’t going to come with me tom—“ She immediately clamped her hands over her mouth. Did I really just fucking say that?! Oh my god what is wrong with me?! To make matters worse, Easy had a small, amused smirk on his face. “You want me to come that bad?” “I guess so!” she huffed, her cheeks burning with embarrassment. “So I guess you can stop second guessing me and acting like I’m gonna eat you!” His smile faded. “How do you even… eat?” he cautiously pressed. “I’m part of a coven,” she admitted, unsure if she should be telling him this but feeling it was the right thing to do, “and they provide what I need cruelty-free. They’ve, uh, got a guy who can double things.” “How the hell is blood ‘cruelty-free’?” “You don’t have to kill people. We’re like mosquitos.” Judging by his expression, he didn’t completely look convinced. “Okay, if I come, you’re telling me exactly how this… thing works.” “I will tell you literally everything I know about this,” she promised. “And you’re paying.” “Fine.” “Finally!” came Val’s voice from behind the door. Rika turned to see the doorway swing open, revealing Val and the rest of the gang. “I thought you were never gonna just cut the bullshit.” “How long were you standing there?” Easy grumbled, clearly annoyed. “Long enough, Mr. Photograph!” Val winked. “Now let’s get going, lovebirds. Our getaway driver is waiting! I’m guessing Anna is sitting in my brother’s lap and you’ll be sitting on Rika’s lap?” “No,” he answered. “Well then you’re riding in the trunk!” “Val, seriously,” Rika sighed, “he probably has his own car.” Easy nodded. “Fine. Then your ass better be at Rhyme or Reason Karaoke Bar in the next half hour,” Val said, waving his hand. “If you stand up Rika, it’s not her you’re gonna have to worry about, buddy.” “Sorry,” Jason said, “he’s a bit high strung.” Easy snorted. “I’ve faced bigger threats. I’ll be fine.” He waved awkwardly and walked away, presumably towards the direction of his car. Val patted her on the shoulder. “See, I got your back! World’s best wingman!” Rika rolled her eyes, but she appreciated the sentiment. As the gang ran off towards their getaway car, Rika began to mentally prepare herself to explain vampirism to Easy. It was strange how she’d just decided to come clean to him instead of exhausting every other option first, but she’d handle it one step at a time. Why is he so special? she pondered as they reached the car. Maybe spending the night with him would help her finally find out what exactly it was that kept drawing her to him.
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AuthorsMichael & Tierney Ford Archives
July 2023
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