It was not Eva’s last day, and even if were, she’d most likely still dress like it was her first. Heels at the very least. Never higher than an inch or two—she liked the power click, but she also liked to be able to move. Old firefighting habits died hard, and particularly now, after everything she’d learned about vampires, witches, and general peril, she was extremely aware of the importance of being able to duck and run with no warning, even during the daytime.

Her shoes did indeed have a satisfying click-click-click, though, so nice that they almost created the illusion of productivity and purpose. But she was really just wandering the length of the mall, like Jude on his rounds (or whatever he was actually doing). And her mind was elsewhere. Specifically, back in the apartment complex she shared with Jude, Jasper, Letizia, Nails, Maestra, and now, once again, Felix.

That place was getting crowded, with friends and secrets.

Felix. She’d taken a rare day off yesterday, spent it resting, relaxing, exfoliating, wallowing in her jealousy that Jude was really leaving all the nonsense behind—doing all the things she felt so guilty about indulging in ordinarily. And talking to her once-lost friend, but not face-to-face.

She’d stood outside the door. Then sat on the floor. She knew he was there, the same way he had to know she was there. She just started talking. About her day, her week, how it had been before they’d gotten him back. How boring, compared to their old lives. How she’d actually liked the boredom sometimes, found it restful, but how it could never compare to having Felix home. How much they’d all missed him. How much she still missed him.

He never opened the door, but when she finally got up to leave, she heard something, a reply from inside for the first time.

“Don’t give up on me.”

His voice was so much rougher now, distorted, like his half-transformed features. Nobody who didn’t know him would say he looked or sounded remotely like he used to—but Eva did know him. Too well for a thing like a permanent vampire morph to keep her from recognizing her friend. Felix was Felix, no matter what else changed.

“I won’t. I didn’t,” she said immediately, maybe a little too quickly. The first part might be true, but the second one sounded fake even to herself. There was only one of them who hadn’t given up on Felix, and she couldn’t escape the thought that she and Jasper had almost given up on Jude too.

As Jasper’s name crossed her mind, his shop crossed her path. She hesitated. The storefront was closed, metal grate pulled down to the floor, but she caught a glimpse of someone moving around inside. Which wouldn’t have been unusual, except that Jasper was home, last she’d heard. He definitely wasn’t in today.

But someone evidently was.

“Jude?” she said into her walkie. It would be so hard to break that habit. “Jasper never came in today, did he?”

“No,” came his reply after a second. “I just talked to him, he’s at home. Why?”

“His store’s closed but there’s movement inside. Probably just maintenance or something, but… you know, with everything new…”

“On my way,” he said without hesitation.

“No, I’m on it. But if I don’t call back in ten minutes…”

“Got it. I’ll be here—for a little while longer.”

“Thanks. Have a great last day, by the way. Over and out.”

And that was that. Eva didn’t have to say what was on both of their minds, and he didn’t have to ask. He had her back, and always would even if he didn’t work here anymore. Some things would never change. The knowledge was comforting as she dug out her keys and unlocked the grate as quietly as possible.

“Jasper?” Eva called as she slipped inside, on the off-chance they’d been wrong, and he had come in today without saying anything. Maybe it was him. And if it wasn’t, it probably wasn’t human, which meant it would know she was here already.

She moved as silently as possible through the maze of packed shelves and tight turns, painfully aware that she was armed only with slightly pointy keys, tension building in her stomach with every step. Slowly, she peered around the last shelf at the back counter, and at who stood behind it.

It wasn’t Jasper. It wasn’t even human.

But Eva still relaxed all at once, letting her breath out in a rush. “Oh, it’s you. You scared me!”

“Yes, it’s me. Sorry to frighten, but I had urgent business here.” Letizia stood behind the counter, poring over a heavy, leather-bound book, as Eva had seen Jasper do several times before. The witch turned a page too quickly, almost tearing the aged, thin paper. She didn’t look up as Eva came near, just kept turning through the book with a fervor that bordered on the frantic.

“What are you doing in here?” Eva asked. Letizia was a frequent visitor for the shop’s under-the-table magic trade and loose regulations about smoking joints on the premises, but Eva had only known her to drop by when the owner was actually present.

“Looking for something,” said Letizia, who stayed absorbed in the book.

“What kind of something?” Eva moved up to the counter and putting her hands on it as well. “Is there some... problem?”

“There’s always some problem,” Letizia said, and her voice was unexpectedly tight, anxious. When she looked up, her face was equally disturbed.

“Well, what are we dealing with?” Familiar adrenaline made Eva’s heart beat faster, making her stand more solidly. “Is that big bad vampire back, what’s his name—Cruce?”

“No, he’s dead.”

“Dead?” Eva’s eyebrows shot up. “Dead how? When? Wait.” She pressed her lips together, spine straightening as tension spread throughout her whole body. “And how would you know?”

“Relax,” Letizia said, and her slight, tired-looking smile actually made it possible. Just a bit. “I didn’t kill him. Though often’s the time I wish I had. No, I hear things, and when I heard this particular thing, I simply verified. Cruce is indeed dead—I just wish he’d have taken a few more problems with him.”

“What kind of problems?” Eva asked.

“Nothing you need to concern yourself with,” Letizia said, not unkindly, but with a definite current of tension underneath. Still, Eva had never accepted words like those, no matter the tone.

“It doesn’t sound like nothing. If I had to guess, I’d say you were scared—”

“I am not scared!” Letizia snapped, eyes briefly flashing white. Eva had been right; she was definitely tense, worryingly so. Eva didn’t move, instead watching carefully as the not-quite-human scowl faded from Letizia’s face and her eyes dimmed to normal. She sighed then, shoulders that had bunched up around her ears dropping until she just looked tired instead of annoyed. “I’m sorry. And… you’re right. I’m also scared.”

“I thought so,” Eva said, but her voice and mind were free of any triumph. “And I’m feeling like maybe I should be too.”

“Shitless.” Letizia’s shoulders slumped, and she rested her elbows on the counter and her face in her hands.

“So how about you tell me what’s going on?” Eva asked, stepping up to lean against the counter herself. “Cruce is really dead, right?”

“He’s dead,” Letizia said quickly, still sounding exhausted and frazzled at the same time. Eva felt a wave of empathy. Holding yourself together for other people was draining for vampires too apparently. “Nails and Maestra told me they felt him die, and they wouldn’t be wrong. Even with my spell, their connection was weakened but not broken. He’s their sire, you can’t break that bond entirely without permanent death, and when it’s severed, you—you feel it. You feel it hard.”

“So what did happen?” Eva probed, readying the substantial logical part of her brain to shut up and accept whatever vampiric plot twists were coming her way. “Some other hunter finally get him? Because if it wasn’t you, and I’m pretty sure it wasn’t any of us…”

“No, not a hunter,” Letizia said with a shake of her head. “There’s only one other monster that could take Cruce down.”

“Another one,” Eva said, and it wasn’t quite a question. “Should’ve known. I take it we’ll be meeting him soon?”

“No, if I do everything right, he’ll never even know you exist.” Letizia let out a frustrated noise. “But, it’s not even about him really, there’s something else happening, something potentially…”

“Dangerous?” Eva finished, though that wasn’t the part she found the most tantalizing. Still, her instincts advised against asking directly about whoever ‘he’ might be. Letizia had already shut down two attempts at unraveling whatever she was wrestling with, and Eva didn’t intend to try a third.

“Not for you,” Letizia said firmly. “At least, not if I can help it.”

“That’s not exactly what I was asking. I don’t want you going up against any monsters all by your damn self.”

Letizia almost smiled, looking mildly surprised and pleased at the concern. “Probably not dangerous for me either. Thanks. It’s really nothing any of you should have to worry about, but it’s...”

“...Obviously important to you,” Eva finished again, since she seemed to be on the right track so far.

“I wouldn’t be here otherwise.” Letizia nodded, and looked up now. Eva wasn’t sure how much sleep vampires needed, but it definitely looked like she wasn’t getting enough. Or maybe it was The Pit’s sauce she needed, or more specifically, its signature ingredient. “That’s why I’m here. Looking for anything I can find about the magics and artifacts involved. Jasper did say I was welcome, though, whenever I needed… help.”

It didn’t sound like this was something she was used to asking for. Or like it’d been easy, however indirect the request. So Eva tactfully let it go without comment and asked the other question on her mind. “Magic and artifacts?”

“Yes, extremely powerful ones. It’s a long story. It’s... personal.” Letizia paused for a moment, carefully chewing her lower lip with very sharp teeth.

“Personal how?” Eva asked, point-blank. Usually when people danced around a question, it was about being polite or sensitive. Eva had never enjoyed such social dances, and she enjoyed them even less when it seemed like they were actually about matters of life and death. “I know you’ve got your business, but this sounds like it might not stay personal forever. If it’s going to affect us, then we deserve to know what’s going on. Besides, you’ve got friends now.” Letizia’s expression seemed to reflect a new and unexpected worry and Eva added, “If you’re so worried about keeping us safe, then yeah, I’d call us friends. Sometimes it’s not a bad thing if one person’s business becomes everyone else’s.”

“Eva, please understand.” Letizia pushed herself off the counter and straightened up. “I know I’m being enigmatic, and that’s annoying as every hell, I know. Just give me until tonight, then come to my apartment. I’ll tell you everything, you and Jude—and Pixie and Felix, if they want to know. Considering what they’ve been through, they might not.”

“I take it Jasper already knows?”

“Probably more than he should.” The witch smiled a bit, obviously fondly. “As usual.”

“We’ll help however we can,” Eva said, and despite the murky specifics, meant it. “But no promises. We’re just lowly humans, after all. Most of us, anyway.”

“I’m not asking for your help yet. I just want you to be aware.” Letizia gave her another faint smile, but this time it was one that lasted. “But thank you. And watch it—some of my best friends are lowly humans.”

 

 

Eva and Letizia exited the shop together, walking in a companionable silence. Eva had a mountain of office work waiting for her, but she wasn’t in all that big a hurry to get back to it. It’d still be there, and moments of relative calm spent with a friend were much harder to come by. As it turned out, she was right, as this moment was interrupted much too quickly, and loudly.

“Hey!” someone yelled from behind them, the angry shout echoing in the open, tiled space.

Both women stopped, turning to see someone barreling toward them from the other side of the mall thoroughfare. Eva frowned immediately. She didn’t know him by name, but she recognized the dirty clothes, wild red hair, and aggressive attitude. Wherever she’d seen him before, it wasn’t under good circumstances.

“Hey, you! Not you,” he said as Eva spread her hands in a ‘yes, what?’ gesture. He jabbed a finger toward Letizia, who’d replaced her dark sunglasses now that they were out in public again. “You! You’ve been avoiding me for the past whole week!”

“I can’t imagine why that would be.”

It wasn’t Letizia who answered, but another newcomer heading toward them from the opposite direction: around the same age, but much calmer, cleaner, and more goth. Eva recognized them too, but only by reputation, the heavy eyeliner, and the neon purple hair; Milo, she recalled; they worked at one of those stores punk-ish teens liked that seemed to have a Halloween theme year-round. They moved quickly to intercept the aggravated young man, putting themself smoothly between him and Letizia.

“Get out of here, Milo!” he snapped, looking like he wanted to stomp his foot in frustration, preferably on Milo’s own. “This is between me and her, it don’t concern you!”

“People don’t usually enjoy being stalked,” they said as he started trying to edge around them to get at his intended target. Milo moved to block him, not aggressively, but not backing down either.

“I wasn’t stalking anyone!” the first near-stranger yelped, indignant. “This is a public place, and I got just as much right to be here as she does!”

“Not if she doesn’t want you following her,” came Milo’s much more level reply. “Which you were. Very obviously. If you have a question why not just ask nicely?”

“Because she won’t talk to me,” the skinny punk said, turning his complaints to Letizia, who remained impassive and poker-faced. “Right? You don’t wanna give me the time of day!”

Letizia said nothing, and took a calm sip out of the thermos Eva could swear she hadn’t been holding a second ago. She knew enough to suspect its contents weren’t just coffee, and that giving her trouble about it was unlikely to go anywhere.

“Well, that’s a mistake!” he shouted, his hands balling into sharp-knuckled fists. “Seems like you’ve been making a lot of them lately. You’ll back the hell off if you know what’s good for you! Just don’t come crying to me if you end up dead!”

Eva stepped back and grabbed at her walkie. Fortunately, the guy now yelling about ending up dead didn’t look armed—he was dressed only in a long-sleeved but thin shirt, even in the cold weather, and wouldn’t have had many places to hide a weapon at least. He also wasn’t paying attention to her, continuing to rail against God-knew-what, and right now, Eva had no desire to find out more specifics. That was a major escalation, one she didn’t feel entirely equipped to handle. At least not without backup.

“Jude?” she said into her walkie as she watched the tension build from a relatively safe distance away. “We might have a problem here. Still near Jasper’s shop.”

“Almost there,” he answered almost immediately. “Is it a—a day problem, or a night problem?”

“Day problem so far,” she said, sizing up the interaction that quickly seemed to be turning into a confrontation. “And I’d like to keep it that way.” With that, she stepped casually up to the other three in time to hear Milo’s tone shift into what sounded like actual concern.

“I haven’t seen you around in a while,” they said, giving the scruffy young man a searching look, up and down. “Have you eaten anything today? You look like you could use—”

“I’m—no, that’s not—shut up, Milo!” His face started to turn red under the grime as he went from frustrated to flustered very quickly. “Stop trying to distract me! You know I’m just here for her!”

Milo chuckled; it wasn’t an angry sound, more fondly exasperated, which only seemed to annoy the young man further. “You’re stubborn as always. But you can’t eat stubborn. Seriously, let me—”

“I don’t need a damn sandwich, I need her to keep her nose out of shit she shouldn’t be into!”

“Hey,” somebody said from behind her, and she turned to see Jude, standing tense and a little out of breath. Both Milo and the punk kid jumped and turned to stare at him with surprised, anxious expressions, as if they were kids caught with their hands in a forbidden cookie jar. “Everything okay over here?”

“We’re fine,” both of them said at once as they turned to face him. They simultaneously glanced at each other, then back at Jude, one smiling, one scowling, both clearly lying.

Eva watched as the sour-faced young man’s gaze took on a definite shade of panic, flicking quickly from her to Jude and back, then at Milo and Letizia. He must have felt distinctly outnumbered, because he took a step backwards, then another.

“You know what, screw all of you! I’m done! End up dead, see if I care!” With that, he practically sprinted toward the mall exit, stopping only as he passed a cluster of posters on one of the support pillars. He ripped one down in a fast, jerky motion with an accompanied angry grunt, then rushed out the sliding glass doors.

Nobody moved to follow him. Eva considered it, and could see Jude clearly pondering the same thing—and rubbing at his jacket pocket, which was subtly squirming—but since the conflict had apparently self-terminated, there was little point.

“Thank you, little friend. That could have been much more exciting than it was,” Letizia said with a nod in Milo’s direction. Still, Eva could see the tension on her face and stance even with her dark shades and general inscrutability. She’d been rattled, that much was obvious.

“Oh, of course,” Milo said, a smile that looked equal parts cheery and anxious spreading across their face. “Witches gotta stick together.”

“Witches?” Eva repeated, turning to them with new interest.

“Figure of speech! You know, for us goth types!” Milo said with a distinctly nervous-sounding laugh. “Now my break’s almost over, I have to get back. Sorry!” Before Eva could follow up on that and all it implied, Milo gave an apologetic wave of their black-nailed hand and hurried off, just short of actually running.

“You heard that too, right?” Eva asked, turning to Jude, who was also watching Milo’s retreat with a pensive expression.

“Sure did,” he said, and gave Letizia a sidelong look. But she said nothing, simply folding her arms and looking lost in her own hidden thoughts. “Any idea what that guy was yelling about? Sounded ominous.”

“Sure did. And no, none, but at least this part’s over without any mess this time,” Eva said. “If only every mall fight could be self-diffusing.”

“It’d be nice,” Jude said. “But I’m still going to follow up with Milo. If nothing else, they seemed to have some history with the other guy. But that also really didn’t seem like a figure of speech, at least not when it’s said to an actual—” he said, then stopped. When he and Eva turned to where Letizia had been standing, there was no trace to be found—witch and thermos seemed to have disappeared into thin air. “Of course.”

“I love the smell of weirdness in the morning,” Eva said dryly. “Aren’t you going to miss all this?”

“Oh, yes. I don’t know what I’d do without our morning adventures.” Jude’s tone was only half-sarcastic, and she half-smiled in return. “Did you hear exactly what they were arguing about? Shh, hang on,” he added in a low voice directed toward his pocket, which had started to quietly squeak.

“Not much more than you did. That guy followed us for a little, then went off at Letizia, yelling about how everyone’s doomed. Then Milo called him out on it, which he didn’t seem to appreciate either.”

“Maybe he wanted a free tarot reading,” Jude said, in a tone that if Eva didn’t know any better, she’d call joking.

“Or some of her other secret stash. Boy could probably use some,” Eva replied, in a tone that definitely was. Still, she knew neither of them would forget the actual words of warning. “In any case, we can find out for ourselves later. She asked us to come by her place tonight so she can fill us in on the latest fun. Which will hopefully turn out to be nothing, but just in case it doesn’t, we should probably have the heads-up.”

“About what, exactly?” Jude frowned, reservations immediately apparent, even as Eva felt that much more secure. An uneasy, dubious Jude meant she was back on familiar ground.

“I don’t know. I just have a feeling we might have another... complicated situation on our hands.”

“Complicated—as in a night problem, then?” Jude’s thick black eyebrows came together, telling Eva immediately that, as usual, they were on the same page.

She almost replied with something like ‘I hope not,’ but stopped herself, instead thinking about the way Letizia had smiled with obvious relief and fondness when Eva let her know she wasn’t facing whatever nightmare came next alone. She thought about how wildly, irrepressibly happy Nails and Maestra must be, freed from their last tie to their abusers. The telltale lump in Jude’s pockets and the irresistible onslaught of cute that was Pixie’s fluffy bat form with its huge ears and beady little eyes looking up at her. The mixed fear and hope in Felix’s voice when he begged her, out of sight but now just a room away, don’t give up on me.

Somehow, Eva found it easier to smile than scowl. “Seems that way.”

“Meet you tonight, then,” Jude said with a nod that held all the quickness and efficiency of a salute. The high-pitched squeaking from inside his jacket grew more urgent, sounding like a particularly weird ringtone. “I’d just as soon avoid any more surpri—hold on, I uh, have to take this.”

His pocket could no longer be ignored. Jude half-opened it to give Pixie some air, and reached inside to pet the top of his fuzzy head.

“Bring your bat to work day?” Eva asked, half-turning away with hands on her hips, looking up to the ceiling. “Which I definitely didn’t see. I know nothing about any unregulated animals in here, and even if I did, they’d be emotional support bats. Right, Jude?”

“That’s right,” he said, then whispered directly into his jacket, apparently past caring if anyone saw him looking strange. It’d be far stranger if anyone saw Pixie appear from nowhere. “Okay, I’ll let you out in just a minute, too many people here, try to hang on until—” He looked around, trying to look as casual and unruffled as possible as he fixed his eyes on the nearby bathrooms.

“Go,” Eva said, and Jude shot her a grateful look. “Just make it a quick break, all right? Busy day on the job ahead of both of us—and not everyone’s lucky enough to call it their last.”

 

 

“Okay, here we go,” Jude said, closing and locking the single-stall bathroom door and digging the bat out of his pocket as fast as he could while not being rough with the little creature. It wiggled a bit in his hand, then hopped off, turning from bat into boy long before it hit the ground. “Are you okay?”

“What happened?” Pixie asked in a tight voice as he stood up, eyes wide and fixed on Jude’s face. He looked disoriented, dizzy, and shaken up, like he had back at the apartment. “Are you okay? I heard yelling! Were you in a fight? Is somebody after us again?”

“No no, everything’s fine,” Jude reassured him, wanting nothing more than to wipe that fear right off Pixie’s sometimes too-expressive face. “I ran into Eva—and Letizia, and that Milo kid—talking with a guy who seemed… upset. Loudly upset. That’s probably what you heard. You and the rest of the mall.”

“Okay, okay good,” Pixie nodded, but didn’t look very reassured. “It’s just, I thought I heard... never mind.”

“What did you think you heard?” Jude felt a twinge of foreboding, seeing how Pixie seemed to shrink down a little at the thought, like it was the cause of all his unrest.

“I don’t know. Maybe I was dreaming. The only times I’ve been able to really sleep lately is in your pocket, as a bat.” He tried to smile, but it only succeeded in making Jude’s heart ache. “Bats don’t have bad dreams.”

That didn’t really help the worry worming around in Jude’s stomach, but when he tried to smile back, he had more success than Pixie had. “You can sleep in there whenever you want.”

“Thanks.” And Pixie brightened a little bit at that. Not enough, but it was there.

It was never hard for Jude to tell how Pixie was feeling, but vampires didn’t seem to show the same kinds of signs of distress as humans did. Their bodies were warm, contrary to popular belief—but no dark circles under their eyes when exhausted, no sweat or shivers, no actual need to breathe fast during a panic attack, and they likely didn’t lose or gain weight in the same way as the living.

Jude was actually relieved about that one. Worrying about Jasper was enough; if he ever saw Pixie looking thin and drawn, Jude would find staying calm and level even harder than usual.

“You can talk to me, you know,” Jude said after hesitating a moment. When had he become the person anybody talked to about their problems? He’d never been the most stable or responsible. Nobody had ever really needed him to be before. “I want you to feel like you can talk to me.”

“I know—it’s not that I don’t trust you. It’s not you at all.” Pixie still looked troubled, but a little less so than before. He reached out to touch Jude’s wrist, lightly take his hand. “It’s just... a lot.”

“Yeah.” Pixie had been through Hell. The closest to actual-Hell-with-a-capital-H Jude could imagine this side of living, or on the undead side, and that was only the part Jude had personally witnessed. But that alone—the kidnapping, torture, crucifixion, almost dying for a second time—was enough for anybody’s life to be forever changed and shaken. “Whatever it is... I’m here.”

“I know.” Pixie gave his fingers a squeeze as Jude ran his thumb over the smooth skin on the back of his hand, and the rougher scarring.

“Are you going to go home?” Jude asked after a second. “Or pocket again? I meant that, you can stay in there all day if you want to.”

“Um, I…” Pixie trailed off. He looked so lost.

Jude’s stomach clenched. Again, he wanted quite badly to pull Pixie close and squeeze him until all his worries disappeared. More than that, kiss him, wrap all of Pixie and his wonderful warm softness up in his arms and breathe him in, the way they had the night Pixie had agreed to stay with him. Jude hadn’t dared since, though every time he thought about it, the combination of wanting and uncertainty made his chest ache, and rooted him to the floor.

And, as always, no matter how badly he wanted to, Jude couldn’t bring himself to move. He never knew what to do at vulnerable moments, especially not when he suspected there was a lot more at work here than he could ever know. Not when he didn’t know what would help, or hurt, and Pixie didn’t need any more hurting. This was how he’d been for more of his life than he cared to admit, so afraid of making the wrong move and only driving them further apart that he ended up doing nothing at all.

“Who else did you say was there?” Pixie asked, sounding a little more relaxed, tired but calm. “Besides the yelling guy. I heard someone else.”

“Letizia, but she took off pretty fast. Eva—oh, and Milo. Purple hair, goth, they work around here somewhere,” Jude said, as if he didn’t know the exact layout and schedule of every mall employee, or at least the closest anyone could come to omniscience in the wild world of retail.

“The Abyss,” Pixie said immediately.

“Yes. The Abyss.” Jude said the word like it tasted bad. “The Halloween store that’s still open in January for some reason.”

“It’s called being goth, and goth doesn’t take a vacation,” Pixie said with a tiny upward curl of the corner of his mouth. “I love that place.”

“I know,” Jude said. After a beat, he sighed in mock despair, and only a little genuine resignation. “You want to go, don’t you?”

“Heck yes. You can drop me off, you don’t have to go in! I just at least want to make sure Milo’s okay—and to let ‘em know I’m okay. They’re cool. We were buds. I mean, we still are, I hope. It’s just been kind of hard keeping up with people with, uh, all this.” He gestured to his fangs, then down to all of himself, looking self-conscious and uncertain.

“I can imagine,” Jude said, trying not to let the alarm bells going off in his head leak out into his voice. “But are you entirely sure it’s a good idea to… That is, I take it, they’re familiar with…” now it was his turn to gesture to all of Pixie, eyebrows raised.

“Yeah,” he said with a nod that was only a little hesitant. “They should be. I mean, I don’t know for sure, but they always seemed into witchy type stuff before, so I was hoping… but I dunno, maybe they didn’t mean real witchy type stuff. Maybe I shouldn’t.”

“You could at least say hello?” Jude suggested, surprising himself with the daring thought he’d never contemplate for himself. It was well worth it to get that anxious, self-doubting look off Pixie’s face. “Seeing a friend might do you some good.”

“Yeah, but what if they notice something’s wrong with me?”

“Nothing’s wrong with…” Jude started, then stopped. Arguing this particular point, however much he believed it, was semantics, and likely not the point Pixie was trying to make. “You don’t have to, obviously. But now that I think about it, Milo did say something earlier, to Letizia, something like ‘witches have to stick together.’ That seemed fairly serious to me. If they’re friends, they probably know about the… other side of her, as well.”

“Yeah. Yeah, you’re right,” Pixie said, brightening a little, even if it still seemed like he was trying to convince himself. “I bet they do know. And if they don’t…”

“Then they should still hear it from a friend,” Jude said. After a pause, he made another decision the old him would have balked at, and said, “And I’ll be right there with you. If you want me there.”

“You will?” Pixie’s eyes were suddenly much bigger, shinier, and that much harder to resist.

“Yes,” Jude said with the seriousness of a man swearing to stand beside a comrade in the calm before a harrowing battle. “I’m behind you every step of the way.”

“Okay. Okay, yeah.” Pixie gave a resolute nod, seeming suitably convinced. “It’ll be good to catch up a little.” He gave Jude a refreshingly winning smile. “And maybe get some new earrings.”

Jude’s chest twinged again. That bright, pointed smile just made the desire to pull Pixie close and kiss him surge up again, but for a different reason than before. Then he’d looked so scared and hopeless, now he radiated his usual exuberant energy that sat polar opposite to Jude’s, an opposing charge that drew him like a magnet. But Jude still couldn’t risk making a move, not when Pixie’s smile had just barely come back.

He settled for a mock frown that looked nothing like his real one. “I’m buying, aren’t I?”

“Hey, it was your idea!” Pixie said happily, and rushed outside.

Jude sighed and let a moment pass before following. Still, whatever anyone might have to say about two men emerging from a single-stall public restroom, one of them a uniformed security guard, it just wasn’t his biggest problem today. If the rest of the day behaved itself, he wouldn’t have to add too many more to the list.

 

 

“You’re going to be my buffer, all right?” Jude said under his breath as they neared the fanged black arches of The Abyss. “I hate going into this place alone. It’s always crowded, loud music, everyone’s dressed depressed but acting happy—it’s the worst combination of edgy and perky.”

“That’s a bad combo to you?” Pixie raised his pink-dyed eyebrows.

‘You’re not ‘edgy.’”

“Oh, Jude, that’s hurtful. I’m hurt,” Pixie said, hand on his chest, but he was giggling. He’d pulled his hoodie down to shadow his face, which hid his most obvious vampiric attributes, but Jude still made a point to stay between Pixie and as many mallgoers as possible. “But sure, no problem. I love this place! Especially the way they greet you.”

“That’s never made sense to me,” Jude said with a furrowed brow. “Aren’t you always saying that true punk is inherently counterculture, and once it’s been absorbed into the mainstream and watered down for corporate profit, it ceases to be the tool of marginalized expression it once was, becoming another dead capitalist gimmick?”

“Aw, you do listen!” Pixie sounded delighted. “And you made ‘bite the rich’ sound a lot smarter than it does coming from me. If we’d met in high school, you’d be making bank writing my essays.”

“You didn’t answer the question.”

“Yeah, I usually try to buy local,” Pixie said, fiddling with one ear piercing. “But Milo’s local! And okay, fine, The Abyss has some cute stuff. And cheap. I mean, come on, buying entirely organic homegrown punk, in this economy? Must be nice to be made of money.”

Jude let out a snorting laugh. Pixie might still look tired after a poor day’s sleep, but at least he seemed much closer to his regular ball of undead sunshine. His smile made the ever-present knot of tension in Jude’s stomach unravel a little more every time he saw it.

Fortunately, for once, when they got inside, the place was empty. Almost.

“Hi, welcome to The Abyss,” Milo said with a tired smile and little wave, looking up from where they’d been leaning against the counter, resting their head on their arms. “I’d say the rest of the required greeting, but it’s you and I’m tired.”

“That’s okay,” Pixie said, looking around the nearly-vacant store and only sounding slightly disappointed. “Just tired, or…?”

“It’s about earlier,” Jude said in response to Milo’s confused look, while Pixie wandered off to peruse a stand of spiked and shiny jewelry. “That guy bothering Letizia, and yelling at you. Anything I should be aware of?”

“What? No,” Milo said quickly, and Jude wasn’t convinced, but he didn’t pursue it either. People didn’t tend to open up when badgered, a lesson he’d come to reluctantly learn. “No, he’s just noisy. Nothing to worry about there.”

“Okay, just making sure,” Pixie said, looking up from where he’d found a pair of earrings, cartoon bats with pink, glittering eyes hanging upside-down from his hand. He glanced around the empty store. “Pretty dead in here. In a bad way, I mean. Usually you got a packed house.”

“I’d rather it stay dead, present company excepted. You’re someone I actually want to see,” Milo explained, a tired smile growing across their face as if the odd statement was a joke Jude didn’t quite get. “Great to see you again, Pixie. I was starting to get a little worried. It’s been a while.”

“Sure has,” Pixie answered, replacing the bat-earrings and stepping toward Milo, but stopping a moderate distance from the counter. “A lot has happened, good and bad. It’s just been… a lot.”

“Sounds like more bad than good,” Milo said, a concerned-looking wrinkle in their forehead. “Have you talked to Natalie lately? She’s been around here a few times looking for you.”

“Oh—no, no, I’m just kind of, uh, keeping to myself lately. But it hasn’t been all bad,” Pixie said with a glance in Jude’s direction that made him feel a little warm inside. He gave a little nod back, and this seemed to put both Pixie and Milo a little more at ease. “More like, uh. Transformative.”

“Ah,” Milo nodded sagely, cast a glance at Jude, who had stepped away to let them speak, and lowered their voice, which still carried in the unusual quiet. They murmured something that sounded like, “New pronouns?”

“Not yet,” Pixie laughed, as if he’d been taken by surprise—both by what Milo had said, and at how much he was enjoying being here. “But there are a few other new things.” He carefully lowered his hood to reveal more of his telltale gray skin, pointed ears, catlike eyes, and pointed smile.

“Oh,” Milo said, eyes widening and mouth becoming a perfect ‘O’ to match.

“Yeah.”

“You’re—are you—?”

“In the flesh,” Pixie replied with a somewhat sheepish, yet pointed smile. “You know, so to speak.”

“That explains a lot,” Milo said, letting out a kind of combination laugh and relieved sigh. No horror in their face, or even much surprise, Jude noted. His hunch had been right. This kid must be a lot more familiar with the night’s hidden citizens than he’d been when one of them had crashed through his window.

“You don’t seem exactly shocked to learn that vampires exist,” Jude observed. “Witches aren’t the only ones who need to stick together, is that it?”

“Oh, I’m not a vampire,” Milo said, giving Jude an appraising but open look. “Though this is a designated safe space. With magic, I mean. That, and common decency.”

“I’m afraid I’m one-hundred percent human, mundane and ordinary,” Jude said.

“Lying,” Pixie said with a snort. “You’re kinda norm-core, extremely straight-edge, but way less of a buzzkill than you think.”

Jude covered a laugh that would have clashed terribly with his work uniform. “I’m going to pretend I know what those words mean, and take that as a compliment.”

“Glad to find another ally. We can always use more,” Milo said, with another enigmatic little smile that reminded Jude a little of Letizia. But instead of her cocky assuredness, Milo looked more… sad. But then they brightened, and leaned over the counter in a conspiratorial way. “But Pixie! I’m so glad you came to me, there’s so much we need to talk about. You wouldn’t believe what happened just last night. Cruce, the monster himself—he’s dead.” Milo’s voice dropped to an intense whisper. “Dead-dead. Actually destroyed. He’ll never hurt anyone ever again. I never thought I’d see it.”

“I did,” Pixie said with a sudden ferocity, eyes hard and haunted-looking. Then he seemed to catch himself, some of the fire in his voice fading, but he didn’t look any less shaken. “I mean—somebody had to, eventually. It’s about time.”

“Yes, it is—are you all right?” Milo asked, clearly a bit surprised at his uncharacteristic demeanor. “This is personal for you, isn’t it?”

“You could say that,” Pixie said with a halfhearted laugh. “Cruce wasn’t my sire, but he, uh… made my life a lot harder. Before-life, and after-life. I guess. So yeah. I’m good with him being deader than dead—better than good.”

“Oh,” Milo said, and their mouth didn’t drop open this time. Instead, their violet eyes clouded with pained empathy. “Oh, I’m so sorry. He’s… I’ve heard what he…”

“It’s all true.” Pixie’s voice went a little flat, and Jude noticed him tracing the scarring on the back of one hand. “Everything you’ve heard, and a lot worse. I guarantee it. But he’s gone now, and everyone he did turn is free, so everything’s coming up us, I guess.”

“It’s a start. I’m just so glad it wasn’t him who turned you,” Milo said vehemently, and Jude believed them, even if Pixie’s smile looked a little strained. “Turning’s hard enough even if the one doing it isn’t a complete monster. In all sincerity, good riddance. I wouldn’t be surprised if someone throws a ‘B-I-H Cruce’ party.”

“B-I…?” Jude asked, frowning.

“Burn In Hell,” Pixie supplied with mildly unsettling perkiness.

“Speaking of sires, is yours—no,” Milo broke off, pushing themself back a bit from the counter. “You don’t have to tell me, not my business. You look great, that’s all. Might sound weird to say, but un-death really suits you. It just does for some people.”

“You know, I thought so too actually,” Pixie said with a nod. “It’s a major adjustment, for sure, but I’m making it work. And I do make it look good.” He chuckled at himself, then looked more serious, but just as happy. “Seriously, I’m so glad you’re up to speed, I’d pretty much given up on talking to anybody but like three people in the world about this. It feels good.”

“I’m really glad to hear that,” Milo said with a small, sincere-looking smile. “Gives me a bit of hope. I’ve been hearing some… some concerning things, lately.”

“What kind of concerning things?” Jude asked in as level a tone as he could, the familiar tingle of anxiety beginning to sweep through him. “Is there something going on I should know about? Not as, ah, this,” he said with a self-conscious gesture at his security guard uniform. “Just as a… concerned friend and ally. This is my last day, anyway.”

“Sorry to see you go. And when I say ‘concerning,’ I mean…” Milo’s smile faded, and they didn’t continue right away. Some of their scant color began to drain, making their makeup look bolder, and their face younger, less sure, more vulnerable, and that just made Jude even more hyper-aware of the difference in their stations. It felt like an interrogation, but not one that he’d intended.

Jude shifted uncomfortably, his uniform suddenly not seeming to fit right—but then it never really had. He’d never actually liked being looked at as some kind of authority figure; it was too much pressure and too much responsibility—and where some guys might get off on the power and fear afforded even to a mall cop, it just made Jude feel wrong. Besides, the uniform was a barrier, keeping people at arm’s length when he was just now trying to open up.

When Milo spoke again, Jude got the impression that they were choosing each word with care. “If I told you that something big and potentially dangerous was coming, and to make yourselves scarce for the next few days, would you listen?”

“I mean, I want to say yes,” Pixie said with a wary glance at Jude. “But I don’t think I can say that and stay honest.”

“Definitely not,” Jude confirmed. “And I do appreciate you just coming right out and asking.”

“Cutting to the chase does save a lot of time,” Milo said levelly. “Then, if you felt bound and determined to involve yourselves in this dangerous event, would you feel confident in your chances?”

“Of what?” Jude asked. “Defeating it, or staying alive? Because those are two different things.”

“Both. Either.”

Jude slid Pixie a slightly dubious glance and saw him looking warily back. “I mean, so far, we’re at a one hundred percent success rate for survival—even if not all of us are exactly, ah, alive to begin with. That’s pretty good, right?”

“Yeah,” Milo said with a nod, but they didn’t look at all comforted. “While we’re cutting to the chase—it’s a good thing Cruce’s dead, but it also raises a lot more questions. Like, do we know who to thank for that… public service?”

“No,” Jude said, folding his arms. “I’ve been wondering who or what could be powerful enough to take him out.”

“That’s exactly what I’m afraid of too.” Milo took a breath, drumming their black nails in an anxious rhythm on the glass counter. “I just have the terrible feeling that something major is building.”

“What kind of ‘something major?’” Jude pressed.

“I… I think it’s the kind of thing where the less you know, the safer you are,” Milo said, after a pause in which they pressed their purple-stained lips tightly together. “I’m sorry. I know that’s an aggravating non-answer, I swear I’m not trying to be witchy and mysterious, but it’s all I feel confident saying. Just please, take my word and lie low for a few days, that’s all.”

Something occurred to Jude, and he furrowed his brow. “Would this have anything to do with that guy who was stalking Letizia, and yelling at you?”

Milo paused then, as before, spoke very carefully. “He isn’t a direct threat. If anything, he’s in much more danger than any of us. But interfering would only make it worse, so it’s best to stay away from him as well.”

“I knew he was involved,” Jude muttered, but nothing more. Following one known lead seemed easier than digging unknowns out of someone so obviously scared and likely to clam up if pushed.

“It’s not that simple,” Milo said with a bit of desperation that told Jude he’d been right to be careful. “You’re right, he’s involved with some very dangerous vampires, the worst I’ve ever known, but he’s not one of them. Consent doesn’t exist with—with the types of people we’re dealing with.”

“Ain’t that the freaking truth,” Pixie muttered.

“Please,” Milo insisted earnestly, looking Jude directly in the eyes with an intensity that took him by surprise. “I’m asking you as a friend, and a witch, and anything else that gets you to listen. No matter what he says—and he will probably say some unpleasant things if you run into him again—he’s not the threat here. Don’t hurt him.”

“We wouldn’t…” Jude stopped. It was true, as long as the noisy punk didn’t take the first shot. “We won’t hurt him. Unless he tries to hurt us first.”

“He won’t. Thank you.” Milo still seemed relieved, despite the possibilities that seemed all too obvious to Jude. Maybe they were just relieved that Jude would try to keep their complicated friend safe at all. “He’s been hurt enough.” Their gaze went back to Pixie. “And so have you. Keep yourself safe, Pixie.”

“Hey, don’t worry,” Pixie said with a lightness Jude knew very well he didn’t feel. “It’ll be fine. Your friend will be fine, and I’ll be fine too. Whatever happens, happens, and we’ll figure it out when we get there. Remember, we’re down one monster. With Cruce gone, I think our lives are gonna get a whole lot easier.”

“I really hope you’re right,” Milo said, but they didn’t sound convinced.

“Sure I am,” Pixie said, still sounding rattled, but he gave an attempted smile and wave, pushing himself away from the counter and stepping toward the door. He hesitated only to cast the bat earrings a longing glance, then resolutely headed for the exit. “It really was great to see you, buddy. Talk to you later. And it won’t be so long this time!”

“Pixie, wait,” Milo said, and both he and Jude stopped. In a contrast to their previous care and reticence, Milo’s words came out in a rush now. “Listen, I might not have gone through it myself, but I know enough about turning to know that it really is an adjustment. More than that, it’s a major trauma, no matter how smoothly it goes. If you ever need someone to talk to… you know where to find me.”

“Thank you,” Pixie said with a smile Jude knew to be entirely real, genuine, and heartfelt. Now, he meant every word. “I’m totally gonna take you up on that. Really glad you’re here.”

The relief so clear in Pixie’s eyes and the deep gratitude so obvious in his voice made Jude’s stomach twist just a bit. All this time, he’d been floundering, hadn’t known the first thing to say or ask Pixie about any of this, or had the slightest idea how to help. Now this familiar-but-new face seemed to have gotten him to open up more and better in ten minutes than Jude had in months.

Maybe it was small and petty of him to feel anything like jealousy, but apparently Jude was smaller and pettier than he’d thought.

“It’s no problem,” Milo said. “Oh, before I forget again, would you like me to let Natalie know you’re okay? I won’t say anything about—”

“Nah, don’t worry about it,” Pixie said, and Jude felt more than heard the tension instantly come back into his voice. “I’ll handle it. See you!”

“Have a great day!” Milo called as they exited the store, in a blandly pleasant voice with a matching smile. It seemed automatic, a reflex customer-service mask, but Jude had seen both the sharp acuity and the churning worry that lay behind it. Milo would never be just the sweet mall-goth kid to him again—or at least, not only that. “Thanks for staring into the Abyss.”

They stepped out into the mall’s manufactured light and ambient noise, but Jude only had eyes for Pixie, who still seemed troubled and downcast, and somehow even more worried than he’d been before.

“So, Natalie?” Jude had to ask as they walked, watching carefully for his reaction.

“She’s just… you don’t have to worry about that either,” Pixie said, looking like he was doing enough worrying himself for the three of them. “I got this. Can you, uh?” After a quick look around to ensure there were no potential witnesses to the paranormal, he tugged on Jude’s sleeve and held his hand—which suddenly held a small pink bat.

Jude tucked Pixie back into his pocket, thinking how nice it must be to have such an easy way to avoid an obviously unwanted conversation. But he was thinking more about everything he’d just heard, and everything yet to come, both from Letizia later, and from God knew what direction next. Jude sighed as he forced his brain into something resembling work mode, and strode away from the Abyss.

It wasn’t even ten o’clock yet.

 

 

The next time Jude saw Eva, it was in the hall outside Letizia’s apartment, two floors up from his own. She was leaning against the wall, head back and eyes closed, as if she were trying to catch up on hours of sleep missed, of which Jude suspected were many. Eva always did try to take everything on herself, he thought. Whatever came next, he resolved to make sure she didn’t have to.

“Hey,” he said as he and Pixie—in human form, and no longer in Jude’s pocket—approached, trying to make enough noise so as not to startle her in case she really was doing more than just resting her eyes. “Is she home?”

“I don’t know,” Eva said, stretching and rolling her shoulders. Jude thought he heard a joint pop. “I knocked, but there was no answer. She didn’t really give me a time, so I figured I’d just wait for you and then see what…”

She trailed off and looked down at the soft click of the lock. The door opened smoothly, but as Jude soon saw, the doorway beyond it was empty. No hand had unlocked or pushed it open, but with this particular occupant, it was fairly certain who was responsible.

“I’ll take that as an invitation,” Pixie said, stepping over the threshold and turning to them with a confirming nod. “Yep! It’s for us. Hi, Letizia!”

Nobody answered at first, and the room past the small entry space was dark, lit only by the flickering light of candles.

“We’re in here,” someone called then, but it wasn’t the Witch. Jude would know Jasper’s voice anywhere, and, as he was inclined to do whenever he heard it, he followed.

The place seemed like the same layout as Jude’s—kitchen, living area, and a short hallway to a bathroom and two bedrooms. No spatters of blood or visible coffins. It was pretty sparsely furnished, really, and didn’t look very used. She must not spend much time in it, or at least not as a human.

The biggest indication that anybody lived in here at all was the piles of books and papers strewn around, as well as the odd piece of polished stone and a few rows of indoor plants. It looked like an extension of Jasper’s shop in that way, and Jude thought he actually recognized a few of the books, like the large, leather-bound one that lay open in the middle of a cleared area on the floor. The plants under their tubular lights looked normal enough, aside from the five-leaf shape Jude immediately pretended he hadn’t seen.

The very Witch herself sat on the floor, shuffling her usual deck of cards, but with more of a frenetic energy than usual. On the floor in front of her was a round metal frame, and inside it, large shards of jagged, shattered glass. A broken mirror, with several pieces missing. More cards were spread in front of her, like she was halfway through laying them out, but then started to shuffle in a nervous habit.

Letizia didn’t look up as Jude, Pixie, and Eva entered, but Jasper gave them all a friendly nod from where he sat in a nearby chair. He said nothing, just held one finger up to his lips. It looked like he had been here a while. Again, Jude frowned slightly as he took in Jasper’s face, and now the rest of him—it was hard to tell by the way he was sitting, but he did indeed look thinner than Jude remembered, and generally more ragged. Anxiety ran through Jude again, but he pushed it down. Not the time or place to check in, he thought—but soon.

Jude peered at Letizia’s cards. Even if he didn’t know much about tarot, Jude thought the spread looked messy, like she’d laid them down hastily. He couldn’t read many from this angle, except for one that faced him—the Devil. Letizia scooped up the cards, dropping one, and Jude crouched down to pick it up. The Sun, he noted, its golden rays still brightly shining in the low light.

Now Letizia looked up at him, or rather, at the card in his hand, holding out her own expectantly. She’d removed her usual sunglasses, and now he could clearly see how steadfastly she avoided eye contact.

“Your door was, uh, open” he said as he handed back the Sun card, half greeting, half apology. “Which I’m guessing was for us?”

“Are we waiting for anyone?” Eva asked when Letizia didn’t answer. “The girls? Felix?”

The Witch still didn’t say anything, and wasn’t looking at them anymore, so Jude took another stab. “What is all this?”

“Letizia, dear?” Jasper called when she didn’t answer that either, and now her head jerked up and she seemed to see them all for the first time. “Are you all right?”

“Yes,” she said shortly, shaking her head as if to clear it. “Yes, I’m fine now. Thank you for coming. The girls are in their room, recovering from being severed, adjusting, and I didn’t want to press anything more on them than that. It’s getting too complicated already.”

She spoke faster than she usually did and tended to blurt out her sentences all at once, a far cry from the cool, laid-back witch he knew. Letizia always seemed to have the situation well in hand, but not right now, clearly. It must have been an effort to keep her hands still, because she folded them, bouncing them a little on her crossed legs.

“Letizia, what’s going on?” Eva asked again in a gentle tone.

“There’s a center of extremely concentrated magical power not far away,” Letizia said, without preamble. “No, you won’t have seen it, nobody finds it unless they already know where it is, or they’re a witch. That place is very important to me, and to a very powerful vampire named Wicked Gold. He’s Cruce’s old master. And he wants it—more specifically, he wants the magical power I’ve stored inside it.”

“Did you say…?” Pixie asked in a whisper that made Jude turn to look at him immediately. His voice shook, and while vampires couldn’t really pale or blush in the same way humans did, his eyes were wide and clearly frightened, vertical catlike pupils thinning to slits. “It’s—it’s him? He’s here?”

“Yes, little friend,” she answered, and Jude remembered her using the same phrase of endearment on Milo. This time, though, her tone was softer, sympathetic, deeply understanding. “Wicked Gold is here. But, remember, so am I.”

Jude almost asked more—that name rang inside him like a pounded gong, Wicked Gold, those two words had weight, meaning, an energy all of their own. But Pixie looked like he was going to be sick, and Jude couldn’t stand to make that worse. Instead, he put one hand on Pixie’s back and asked something else, just as important but not quite as unnerving. “A center of power?”

Letizia nodded. “It’s like a battery, a lightning rod, a huge receptacle of magical energy, and whoever manages to unlock it will receive all the power it’s absorbed over one hundred and fifty years. I need to stop that from happening.”

“What kind of power, exactly?” Eva asked. “What does it do?”

“Whatever the one who holds it wants,” Letizia intoned. “Magic in its raw, wild state is neither good nor evil, it is a neutral party, it does what it’s told, as long as you’re strong enough to command it. It’s a tool, a means to an end, not the end itself. Some people simply should not ever lay hands on such means.”

“So magic doesn’t kill people, people kill people?” Eva said with a shaky smile Letizia did not return, or comment upon.

“And I take it you want this power?” Jude prodded. Maybe one thing here could make some sense.

“No, I want Wicked Gold not to have it,” she said firmly. “I don’t care if the power is mine, but he cannot get his hands on it. I don’t think I need to tell you why.”

“I mean, I’d appreciate knowing why,” Eva said, echoing Jude’s thoughts.

“I—it’s—” Letizia dropped her cards and made a helpless gesture with her hands. “Hard to explain. It’s just a very valuable source of energy that could be very dangerous in the wrong hands.”

“You never mentioned anything about this before,” Jude said, watching her carefully. “And if it was so important, I’d think it would have come up.”

Letizia opened her mouth but paused. A bright, synthesized melody started to play, something familiar that Jude didn’t place immediately. She pulled out a cell phone from one pocket, a perfectly ordinary-looking, modern smartphone in a shiny black case, and glared at the screen. She stabbed one black-nailed finger at it, and it went silent.

The Witch looked back up at Jude and hesitated. Once the irritation from the phone call faded from her face, she looked frightened in a way he had never seen before.

“The center has been building power for one hundred and fifty years and is very nearly at its peak—but at the same time now it feels… like it’s decaying. That’s the best I can describe it. It’s weakening, destabilizing. I don’t know if something specific is draining it, like malevolent vampires trying to leech it, or if even the most powerful spells break down after a century or so. But it is, and so are the defenses around it. Unless the power is drained at its apex—in two days, at midnight—the entire spell is going to collapse, and Wicked Gold can’t have that. And neither can I.”

She stopped, looking anxious as if they might all refuse, and Jasper threw her a bone. “It does sound like the sort of thing we should try to prevent. This fellow seems dangerous enough without a surplus of magic.”

“There’s more to it than that, isn’t there?” Eva asked, watching Letizia with a thoughtful expression. “This sounds personal. A lot more so than just some magical power.”

Letizia just nodded, but met none of their eyes. She resumed shuffling. “Yes it is. I wish I could tell you everything, but some things—some deals, some bargains—have power even over a witch. All I can do is ask that you help me, even if you don’t know the full picture. I promise to keep you as safe as I possibly can. And I’m—”

Letizia stopped as her phone began to ring again. Rolling her eyes, she turned it off completely, but this time Jude recognized the music. Mozart’s Requiem in D Minor; the eerie strains of ‘Lacrimosa’ echoed across his memory. The last time he’d heard it, he’d been a teenager at a particularly somber mass. A funeral? Probably a funeral. Who chose that mournful ode to exquisite pain for their custom ringtone? Despite being both a vampire and a witch, Letizia had never struck him as being quite that… goth, as Pixie would helpfully say, under happier circumstances.

“Ignore that,” Letizia said with a fangy sneer. “I certainly wish I could.”

“Well, you know I’d help you however I could, but none of us are witches,” Eva cut in, throwing a suspicious glance at Letizia’s phone, but not pressing further. She half-turned toward Jasper. “Even you, unless you’ve gotten in a lot deeper than you’ve ever told me.”

“I’m afraid not,” he said, with a noticeably strained-sounding laugh. “And I do hope that won’t be a problem, Letizia?”

“No, not at all,” Letizia said, sounding genuinely relieved that they were even considering it. “The magic is all mine; I only need your help in the preparation. The apex is in two days, and I won’t be ready for at least one. Actually, I doubt I’ll ever be truly ready. This is… bigger than I am. It’s circles upon circles. History repeating itself. A circle of bones. A circle of friends. Siphoning the magic away before Wicked Gold can take it.”

Jude suddenly didn’t quite feel entirely present.

His head spun as he tried to decide whether all this was real or a very real-seeming dream. There was something about those words. A center of power, secret and vital and sacred.

The feeling of vibration was back, but instead of a gong this felt like a bell, high and clear, a signal of importance instead of warning.

Jude’s entire brain felt filled with the sound of crashing waves, and he could almost smell the wet, salt-tinged scent of the sea.

But he didn’t know how to say any of this, didn’t know what it meant or why, so he blinked hard and rubbed at his eyes until he felt grounded again. There was enough strangeness afoot without his own brain getting in on the action.

“That all sounds extremely dangerous. Seems a lot to ask of us non-witches,” Jude said instead. He gave Pixie another glance and found him just as blank-faced as before. With an uncomfortable pang of worry, Jude realized that ever since she’d mentioned Wicked Gold, he’d hardly said a word. “Risking our lives for some unknown quantity.”

“You won’t be risking your lives,” Letizia said quickly. “You should never have to be near the place. And no fighting necessary, I hope. Do you remember the caves under the mall, where we fought Cruce? That’s where I need to cast my spell. That place holds enough power still that if I can tap into it, I won’t need to touch the center itself.” She hesitated, looking embarrassed. “But I do need your help. I know that I haven’t given you many details to work with, so the real question is, do you trust me?”

“I do,” Eva said immediately.

“I’m with you,” Jasper said as well. Jude noticed that it wasn’t a direct answer to the question, but Jasper’s presence alone said more than he generally did in words.

When Jude didn’t answer right away, Eva gave him an expectant, eyebrow-raised look. Sea birds called out faintly in his head, though the room remained still and silent.

“Fine,” he said, after a glance at Pixie, who nodded. He was still silent, which was enough to make Jude worry, but also enough to convince him this was the right decision. Anything that struck a blow against one of Pixie’s nightmares was good enough for him.

“Thank you,” the Witch said, clearly relieved and maybe a little surprised. “I have some preparation to do in advance, and I may need help in procuring certain ingredients—nothing illegal, and nothing dangerous,” she promised before Jude could object. “If all goes well, the spell should be ready soon, and even if all doesn’t go well, it must be activated two nights from now. Midnight, exactly.”

“What exactly do you need?” Jude asked cautiously.

“Earth, gathered at high noon,” Letizia said, voice dropping and sounding suddenly faraway, as if she were reciting a memorized poem, half-asleep. “Drenched with unbleeding blood spilled at midnight.”

The witch then turned to Jude and looked him directly in the eyes for the first time, and he felt something like an electric shock. Usually hidden behind her dark glasses, Letizia’s eyes were dark, almost black, and Jude had the sudden feeling that she saw much more of him than he did of her.

His stomach turned over and he wavered on his feet, feeling like he was caught in an overpowering ocean wave. Eyes like that. He’d seen eyes like that before, striking and mystifying and unforgettable. He’d never seen the ocean in person, but he had seen it—and when he’d stood on the rocky shore, he hadn’t been alone.

“From you, the hope of a dream seen with eyes wide open.”

Something about that made Jude shudder. The only ‘dream’ in his head was the one he felt caught in right now, the things he’d seen when his heart had stopped beating. Had his eyes been open then? Was that such a thing to hope for?

Letizia released Jude from the hold of her stare and, as he reeled, turned to Pixie. She fixed her gaze on him with the same fiery intensity, and continued.

“From you, a dream of rose-tinted happiness.”

Then, to Jasper, who met her eyes calmly, as if he’d expected something like this.

“A sign of a promise kept, a symbol of intention, everlasting and yet reborn.”

Letizia stopped turning, blinked a few times, and her face became pensive, attention shifting inward instead of out at them. “And from myself... the sign of a promise broken, promised to be mended.”

“Nothing for me to do?” Eva asked in a level voice that sounded like it was fighting valiantly to remain so.

“You’re doing something right now,” Letizia said.

“Okay,” Eva acquiesced, but she obviously wasn’t completely satisfied. “So then can you give us some... specifics on any of that? Any clues at all?”

Letizia shook her head. “Only that the spell must be performed at midnight, exactly. We have a very small window of success. But other than that, no. There aren’t any real rules for this, no matter what you may think. Just do your best to find objects that may work and bring them to me—I’ll know if they’re right.”

“That first one,” Jude said, finding his voice surprisingly raspy; his throat had closed a bit with anxiety or whatever it was he’d been overwhelmed with. Recognition? He cleared his throat and tried again. “The thing about earth at noon and midnight and unbleeding blood…”

“Unbleeding blood spilled seems like a cryptic way to say ‘a vampire slain,’” Jasper said thoughtfully.

“You’re correct,” Letizia nodded. “If there’s anything vampires like, it’s drama—self included. Cruce was indeed slain at midnight.”

“And I know where,” Jude said, softly, without quite deciding on the words, or to speak them. “I’ve seen it. I’ve been there before.”

He was suddenly extremely aware of everyone’s eyes on him. Again, one pair in particular. “Where have you been?” Letizia asked, just as quietly. It sounded like she may already know the answer.

“This center of power. The place all of this is happening—it’s a stone circle, isn’t it?” Jude asked, though there was no doubt in his mind. “Huge stones—more like crystals. Black crystals, pointing up at the sky. When I was there… when I saw it, it was by the ocean. But it’s not there anymore, is it?”

“Not an ocean… a sea,” the Witch said. “And no, it’s much closer nearby now. When were you there?”

“It was a dream,” he said, brow furrowing as his head began to ache. The ground felt uneven now, like sand shifting under his feet. “Five—over five years ago. The night that…” he patted his thigh with one hand, the leg that ended in a prosthetic. “This happened. And Felix. That night. When I… when I died.”

“And when you saw the circle,” Letizia continued, words slow and careful, staring at him unblinking once more. “Were you alone?”

“No,” Jude said without question. “There was someone there. In the water—but it looked like they’d been burned. I tried to help them. They asked me…” His voice cracked; suddenly his throat felt uncomfortably dry. He licked his lips, but it didn’t help much. “They asked me ‘is he all right?’ I didn’t know what that meant. I still don’t. But that dream—I remember it like it just happened. Like it’s still happening now. It just feels important, that’s all.”

He looked down at his arms, unsurprised to see every hair standing on end in response to the wave of shivers that had swept through him from the first spark of recognition. He could imagine the concern on Jasper and Eva’s face; they’d heard all this before, hadn’t known what to say then, and probably wouldn’t now. Pixie, he hadn’t told yet. But Pixie seemed to have his own problems at the moment, and Jude could only hope his own hadn’t made them worse.

“And that is why you are the one to bring me the earth from the circle. You were there. You saw it. That was no dream. You were in exactly the right place, at the right time—as you are now.” Letizia said firmly, as if trying to impress every word into Jude’s heart. But then her shoulders sagged, like she was weighed down by crushing fatigue. “And that is all I have today. That is all I can tell you, or do until I have your gifts to work with.”

“Well, guess I’ll help Jude grab the dirt,” Eva said, and the lightness after the tense exchange only sounded slightly forced. “Because I really doubt it’s as simple as it sounds.”

Letizia actually smiled. “Magic rarely is.”

The quiet was almost comfortable, at least between the two of them. Jude still felt half-dreaming, half-awake, and Pixie remained silent and much too still. Jude wondered if he was hearing any of this at all. Then Letiza’s phone rang again.

“Wasn’t that turned off?” Jude asked, puzzled.

“Yes.”

“If it’s broken, can’t you just magic it quiet?”

“It’s not broken,” Letizia said shortly. “It’s working exactly as intended, and will continue to, as long as the man on the other end wants to get ahold of me. But I can do this.”

Letizia set the ringing phone down on the shards of glass and fixed it with a deadly glare, which she then covered with her usual dark sunglasses. Smoke barely had time to rise before the entire thing caught fire.

“Did that break the spell?” Eva asked, holding her nose against the stink of melting plastic.

“No,” Letizia said, flames reflected in her shades. “But it makes me feel better. One last thing!” She held out one hand and swept it before her, like she was wiping a window clear, or spreading something over all of them. “Now you’ll be able to find the stone circle. Do not bring anyone not in this room, or speak of it to anyone else. Now go. I have too much to do, and not enough time to do it in.”

 

 

“I’d say that was weird, but it’s really not for us anymore, is it?” Jude said as the apartment door closed behind him and Pixie.

Jasper and Eva, bless both of them, had said good night without asking either of them any uncomfortable questions, although they both had a definite air of sympathy. They hadn’t missed Pixie’s odd state either, and they got the same look whenever Jude talked about his dream. He never knew what to do with that look, and was always glad when the moment passed and they could go back to pretending it hadn’t happened. Now, however, there was no way to pretend he hadn’t seen Pixie’s reaction, or that it didn’t worry him.

“Mmm-hmm.” Pixie said in noncommittal reply. With his ears, Jude could be sure Pixie had technically heard him, but whether he’d understood the words was another question.

“I don’t like it.”

“Mm-hmm.”

“And I don’t think you do either.”

“I—what?” Pixie said then, giving his head a little shake and turning to face Jude, looking sheepish. It seemed as if he hadn’t absorbed a thing Jude had said. Maybe he hadn’t truly heard a thing Letizia or anyone else had said either, after whatever had affected him so much a few minutes ago. “Oh. No, I… really don’t.”

“Pixie, what happened in there? What’s wrong?” Jude asked, unable to keep the concern out of his words

Pixie hesitated, and that was all the confirmation Jude needed. He hadn’t been imagining things; Pixie hadn’t said one word almost the entire time they’d been in Letizia’s apartment, obviously shaken, and now he seemed to crumple further. His eyes were wide and frightened, and Jude shifted a bit closer. He didn’t reach out for Pixie’s hand, however, having the uncomfortable and too-familiar feeling that even the gentlest touch would do nothing but startle him right now.

“Talk to me. Please?” Jude asked, not at all liking the look on Pixie’s face or the shake in his voice.

“Wicked Gold is… my sire,” Pixie said, and now more than his voice was shaking. Now Jude did reach out to put a hand on his arm, and Pixie didn’t turn, but leaned into the touch. “He’s the one who turned me. He’s bad—very, very bad. And he’s involved in this? We’re going to fight him?”

“No,” Jude said immediately. “You don’t have to. I won’t let him hurt you—I won’t let him get near you at all.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” Pixie said, looking haunted. “And nobody can keep that one. I… I can’t do this. I can’t be near him. I can’t see him. I—I see him too much already.”

“In nightmares?”

“Yeah.” Pixie said. He opened his mouth, then shut it, as if he’d been about to say something and then thought better of it.

“Not just in nightmares?” Jude pressed, voice dropping.

“I… I saw him do it,” Pixie said, his own voice falling until it was close to a whisper. “Kill Cruce. I saw it happen. It wasn’t a dream, it can’t have been a dream, because it came true. I mean, a lot of my nightmares have come true, but this—this was different. He’s close, I know he’s close, and that means he’ll come after me. And if he gets whatever power’s in that stone circle, he’ll be even more dangerous than he already is. He’s already ruined enough lives! And not even just him, this place eats everything up, even without magic. It makes people disappear. With nothing left behind, especially not answers!”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Jude asked as gently as possible. “If this Wicked Gold bastard is still in your head, he’s still hurting you. That’s not okay. You can’t keep on like this—we can’t keep on like this.”

“I know!” Pixie groaned. “But I was hoping I was wrong. I was hoping he’d just stay gone, and we’d never have to worry about him again, and I didn’t want you involved in this if he did come back. It’d just be dangerous and... full of stuff you probably don’t want in your head.”

Jude was painfully aware that Pixie had largely left the pain he’d suffered at Cruce’s—and Wicked Gold’s—hands up to imagination, and he didn’t like anything he imagined at all. “You don’t have to tell me anything he did to you, not until you’re ready, if you ever are. Just promise me you won’t wait the next time you feel him near. I don’t care if it’s ‘just’ a nightmare, if he’s here and scaring you, I want to know.”

Pixie didn’t answer for a while. When he did, it was just above a mumble, eyes on the floor. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Jude asked, completely lost. “You haven’t done anything to apologize for.”

“Just all of this,” Pixie said with a listless shrug. “I come with a lot of baggage. I just hope that it’s not more trouble than it’s worth.”

“Hey,” Jude said, putting himself directly in front of Pixie. He didn’t make Pixie look up, but he was happy when he did anyway. The words he said next were unexpectedly easy, automatic in a way that surprised himself, and entirely truthful. “You’re worth it. You’re worth all of this. More.”

“Thanks,” Pixie said, and now he really was whispering. “I mean it.”

“So do I,” Jude assured him. “You probably figured out that I’m pretty serious about most things.”

“Naw,” Pixie said, and now he smiled a little. Good. “Serious? You?”

“That means I’m serious about you. I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t sure.”

“Really? You mean that?” Pixie’s eyes were bright and hopeful again.

“I do,” Jude said without hesitation or a shadow of doubt. “I want you here more than anything.”

Pixie smiled, and though he didn’t answer, he did seem to be watching Jude in an expectant, happily anticipatory kind of way, leaning just a little bit closer and turning his face up. Waiting.

For once, Jude knew exactly what he was expecting. Everything about Pixie—from his excited eyes and sweet, chubby cheeks to the tips of the toenails Jude knew to be painted pink to match his hair—seemed made for affection, or at least begging for it. Like he knew exactly how cute and irresistible he was, and was just waiting for Jude to catch up.

But Jude couldn’t bring himself to make that move, kiss that boy, or do anything but stand there paralyzed by indecision and fear of making everything worse.

“So do you have any idea what you’re going to find for the spell?” he asked, after both moments—first charged, then slightly awkward—had passed, mind drifting back to the other problem at hand. It probably wasn’t a good sign when a mysterious magic ritual seemed less insurmountable than overcoming potential romantic disaster.

“…I have an idea. But I’m hoping to think of another one.” Now Pixie looked pained as well as a little disappointed, and Jude didn’t ask any follow-up questions. He’d dragged enough painful admissions out of Pixie for one night. Instead, he headed for the fridge to grab the bottle of blood-infused sauce he could tell Pixie needed but, like the rest of what was bothering him, wasn’t mentioning.

He couldn’t kiss Pixie when he was sad, because that might make things worse. He couldn’t kiss Pixie when he was happy, because it might be the wrong thing, and then Pixie might be sad. He couldn’t even kiss Pixie when it was obvious—or would be to anyone else—that this was exactly what Pixie wanted. Was there anything useful Jude could do at all?

He could supply blood sauce. And he could find dirt. Maybe eventually he’d stop feeling like it, too.