Five days ago...

After sealing the final box, Helena stretched, relieving some of the

dull pain in her lower back. She wiped the sweat off her forehead and

surveyed her old bedroom. It was nothing more than an ocean of pale brown

boxes and suitcases.

Double checking her things one last time, she closed her eyes. The sound

of her beating heart enveloped her as happy memories merged with the

familiar smell of rose scented candles on her windowsill. From downstairs,

muffled voices of her mother and Richard floated up. This is where she grew

up—a home she would miss.

Her fingers itched with anticipation and a smile tugged at her lips. Sitting

on the edge of her bed, she reached under the pillow, retrieving a journal. She

rested the two-inch-thick bulk on her lap. It had been on her mind ever since

she rummaged through the dusty attic last night. Once she had laid eyes on

the leather cover with carved fern leaves, she wanted to know the secrets held

inside. Yet, priorities such as packing were paramount. If not done in time,

she would be forced to listen to Laura’s complaints until her ears bled.

She peeled back the jacket, revealing the first aged, yellow page. A list of

names presented itself to her. They appeared handwritten by different people,

possibly multiple owners of the journal. One name caught her attention. She

skimmed through the strange diagrams and drawings of plants, recognising a

few from her grandmother’s garden when she was little. Faded, an archaic

language filled the worn pages. She didn’t even try pretending to comprehend

it.

Beautiful curving letters sparked recognition and her hand froze. Her

grandmother had been the last owner of this journal. Helena smiled at the

bittersweet memory of them spending time together. The old woman read

stories to her of witches battling against the dark forces in the world—tales

she would never forget.

Her grip tightened. The calm, happy memories decayed as the tragic

episodes unfolded in her mind once more. Her mother’s version was simply a

story of a loving grandmother turning into a crazed woman as she ended her

life by setting fire to their home. Yet, those fragments of her childhood

remained a knot she couldn’t unravel no matter how hard she tried.

Michael’s words sprang into her mind, making her jump. “Sasha is

finishing the preparations. You should change.”

“I’m busy,” she replied.

“This is your last night here. That thing cannot be more important than

spending time with your parents.”

She slammed the journal shut. “Fine!”

Standing, she cast a fleeting glance to its hiding place under the pillow

and walked to her wardrobe. A set of clothes she had prepared for tonight’s

dinner awaited her on the top shelf. She changed out of her sweat-tinged

tracksuit and into a baggy T-shirt with a pair of jeans.

As she opened the door, a delicious aroma greeted her. Her grumbling

stomach led her downstairs where she found an excessive amount of food

spread out on the round oak table. Her mother went overboard with

preparations as per usual. Nonetheless, Helena refrained from pointing it out

and took in an appreciative whiff of the roasted chicken.

Her step-father’s salt-and-pepper hair bobbed as he battled with a bottle

of wine. His two large brows scrunched, creating an impression of a dark

unibrow.

“Don’t just stand there.” Her mother’s underlying Russian accent never

failed to show when she was anxious. With a huff, she piled plates and

cutlery in Helena’s hands and rushed back into the kitchen.

Helena set the table mumbling, “Well, hello to you too, Mum.”

As Richard settled the bottle on the lacquered surface, his shoulders

slumped. The small cork got stuck halfway in the bottle’s neck, unwilling to

move in either direction.

“We haven’t had champagne in a while,” Helena said.

“You’re right. I think Sasha bought one for the occasion.”

When he left the room, her mother reappeared, and two brown eyes

zeroed in on Helena. Her fingers raked through her short, platinum hair, as

she commenced the emotional bombardment. “Are you sure about moving

out? You can stay with us until you finish studying or—”

Helena crossed her arms. “Mum, we had this discussion last week.”

“Yes, we did.”

She wanted to kick herself—upsetting her mother was not something she

enjoyed. It would be easier for her to travel to and from college if she moved

in with her friends. She glanced at the kitchen door. Richard was taking

longer than he should have. So, she tapped her foot to try to melt the silence

growing between them.

Her mother’s transitory act of sadness disappeared, and she squared her

shoulders, disapproval remained etched into the frown lines on her face.

“I know you’re worried, Mum, but I’ll be with Laura and Andrew.”

Sasha relaxed her stance and hugged her daughter. “You are my only

child. I can’t help worrying.”

Helena patted her back, unsure of what to say or do next. Thankfully, the

heavens answered with a loud pop coming from the kitchen and a faint

clinking of glasses.

Richard strolled into the room with a grin, revealing his pearly teeth as he

held up an opened bottle of champagne and three champagne flutes. “I take it

you two are doing well?”

“We’re fine,” her mother replied. She pulled away from Helena, folded

her apron over the back of her chair, and took her seat.

Following Sasha’s example, Helena sat next to her mother.

Richard poured each of them a drink and joined them at the table. The

instant he took a sip from his glass, he cringed.

Helena glanced at her thighs to hide her snort. She loved her step-father.

Even though he was busy as the Head of the Science Department, he

remained a family man. He never complained and took care of her and her

mother after her real father disappeared from their lives without so much as

an explanation.

“Did you finish your registration?” Richard asked.

Helena raised her head. “Yeah, the second I got accepted.”

“I’m concerned by your choice. Becoming a doctor or a lawyer would

pay better than a—” Her mother waved her hand in the air, searching for the

right word. “I don’t even know what you can call your degree.”

Helena looked away. Her mother’s stony eyes held enough

disappointment to drown an army. The silence continued to spread, and

Helena clutched the cutlery. The metal warmed in her palms. “If I get bored, I

will choose something else.”

“Bored?” Sasha’s voice rose.

Finished with the conversation, Helena switched her attention to her food.

Richard cleared his throat. “I heard there’ll be quite a downpour

tomorrow. Hope it won’t hinder your move.”

Her mother gave Helena a fleeting glare as if telling her their

conversation wasn’t over and faced her husband. “How bad will it be? I have

to meet with the girls.”

Helena took the distraction as a reprieve and mouthed a “thank you” to

Richard who winked in return.

With dinner out of the way, Helena busied herself stacking the dishes into the

dishwasher.

“Can I talk to you for a sec?” Richard’s deep baritone made her jump.

She nodded and straightened her back.

“First and foremost, you are always welcome here...” His eyes scanned

the kitchen.

Helena looked around with him. When she didn’t notice anything out of

the ordinary, she couldn’t help a smile creeping up. “Um, Richard?”

“Right, well, the second thing is that we love you. If there’s anything you

need, we will be there to listen.” He faltered and spread his arms out, drawing

her into an awkward bear hug. His lean body radiated warmth, and her heart

swelled. “Call us if something happens or—”

“I think I got the point,” she mumbled into his shoulder.

He released her and rubbed the back of his neck. “You should rest. It’s an

early start for everyone tomorrow.”

“I will.”

Once he left, she sped through putting the remaining dishes away while

she analysed Richard’s behaviour. Was he worried about her moving out? He

didn’t seem too concerned until now. So, why act like that all of a sudden?

She shrugged and pressed the ‘on’ button on the dishwasher.

When she arrived at the top of the staircase, faint whispers from her

mother’s room caused her to halt. She sneaked across the hallway and

pressed her back against the wall.

“...you tell her?” Sasha’s agitated voice came first.

“I did. You shouldn’t worry so much. She’s doing great,” Richard replied.

Her mother’s voice rose. “What if something triggers her to remember?”

“Hush, Sasha. If she hears any of this, she will want to know more. All

we can do is keep an eye on her. Restricting her will drive a wedge between

you two, and I doubt that’s what you want.”

Helena clutched at her chest when the conversation ended. She staggered

into her bedroom and dragged her feet until she collapsed on the bed. A sigh

escaped her as she faced the ceiling. “What are they hiding from me?”

Michael materialised sitting next to her. He tracked her gaze to the

phosphorescent stars that fascinated her in her childhood. “I remember the

day your step-father glued them on. He fell off this bed twice.”

Helena glanced at his broad back. “What are you implying?”

“Do you recall why he did that?”

“Richard said it was because I used to have nightmares when I was

younger. Nightmares I don’t remember having...”

“You were a child. Think nothing of it.”

Helena sat bolt upright. “Are you serious? They’re hiding something from

me, something important. I can feel it.”

Michael shifted, and their eyes met. She loved looking into the azure

depths of his eyes. They were like two handpicked jewels. The longer you

marvelled at their beauty, the less you wished to argue with the beholder.

And, like real precious gems, they held many secrets.

He withheld a lot of information from her. Something was always

missing out of the full picture—a forbidden piece of knowledge his angel

bosses coveted. He wouldn’t tell her anything regarding them either.

“Memory is a fragile thing, especially at a young age.”

She glowered at him. “I have a good memory, Michael.”

“Do not look at me with such murderous intent. I have answered your

question.”

Unable to help herself, she doubted his answer. Her childhood night

terrors couldn’t be a plausible explanation why her parents were nervous. But

the real answer eluded her.

“You’ll get wrinkles if you continue to brood over this.”

She fell back onto the bed and sighed. “Okay, I’ll let it go, for now.”

Michael lay next to her without indenting the mattress. His lack of a

physical body confused her to this day. “Rest. You have a lot to do

tomorrow.”

Not bothering to change into her pyjamas, she climbed under the covers

and asked, “No matter what I choose, will you always support me?”

“Good night, Helena.”

She ran a hairbrush through her hair for the second time that morning, and

their eyes met in the mirror. At least, Michael refrained from popping in

when she was in the shower or on the loo.

Her eyes narrowed. “What?”

“It’s nothing.”

“You’ve been staring at me since I woke up. Tell me what the problem is!

Is it the hair?”

The corner of his lips upturned. “You are nervous.”

Helena whipped around. “Any normal human being would be. It’s a lifechanging decision.”

“What happened to the calm, collected, and analytical persona you like to

portray?”

She folded her arms over her chest. “Anything you want to tell me?”

“If I had to say something, it would be that Andrew is at the front door.”

She glared at her guardian angel and rushed downstairs. Tweeting birds

filled her ears, and she grunted. The tacky doorbell was her mother’s idea.

On the last step, she managed to avoid tripping over her feet by a mere

millimetre. Between ragged breaths, she swung the door open and grinned at

her soon-to-be roommate. “So, how do you want to do this?”

Andrew’s smile faltered. He tapped his chin with his index finger. “Hum,

getting indoors should be my primary task.” He didn’t wait for her response

and stepped inside with a single long stride. “And now we move stuff.”

Helena rolled her eyes. “Very funny. I meant is there any particular way

we get my things over to the new place?”

“Don’t worry, Thorn, all will be revealed in time.”

She ignored the annoying nickname her friends gave her in school and

peered around him. In her driveway, an unfamiliar chalk-white minivan

broke the view of the park beyond.

“Is that yours?” she asked.

“Dad lent me one of his company cars for a day. He specifically told me

not to crash it, so I hope your things won’t weigh down the vehicle.”

Helena hid her irritation behind a false smile. She signalled for him to

accompany her. “Let’s get on with it.”

“Let’s get on with it, please.”

Less than amused, she stared at him.

“Spoilsport.” He ascended the stairs.

They paused at the bedroom door, and he said, “I bet everything in there

is pink and frilly.”

“The more you talk, the more rubbish comes out of the big hole you call a

mouth.”

He clasped his hand over his chest in a dramatic manner. “You wound me

dearly, Thorn.”

With a shake of her head, Helena pushed past him, opening the door.

Andrew assessed the room, his expression betraying a touch of

disappointment.

She smirked. “No pinks and no frills.”

“Baggy clothes, purple hair, and a dull bedroom... How are you still a

girl?”

“Uh-uh.”

Until now, Andrew and Laura had kept the details of their new home a secret.

They wanted to surprise her, and that she was. Her eyes widened at the sight

of the red-brick apartment block that towered over them. To her, it appeared

like a fortress. Perhaps having a castle wasn’t a bad thing, especially when

they could look out those oversized windows at the cityscape.

“This is the place?” she asked.

Andrew watched her with a hint of amusement. “Do you like it?”

She held back an urge to bounce on the spot, so she schooled her face into

slight disinterest. “Until I see the inside, it’s hard to judge.”

“Don’t worry, your highness, we chose it with you in mind.”

She shot him a piercing glare, and he stuck out his tongue. In that

moment, she questioned her decision to move in with her two best friends.

Andrew opened the glass door for her and ushered her inside. This

allowed her to assess the simple white lobby. A chubby guard who manned

the desk near the lift ignored them as they approached. In case something

happened, she didn’t expect him to be of any help.

“Earth to Thorn.” Andrew’s face appeared a few inches away from hers.

The smell of his fresh aftershave filled her nostrils while his forest-green eyes

focused on her. “Do you want to check the place out or not?”

Her cheeks warmed. Desperate to avoid further embarrassment, she

marched to the lifts where she mashed the button until the doors slid open,

and they entered the metal confinement.

With a light laugh, he pressed the button on the panel, and they moved.

On the fifth floor, moss-green carpet and white-walled interior

surrounded them. The morning sun spilt into the corridor in the shades of

blue. Upon arrival at their apartment, Andrew swiped a key card above the

handle.

Helena set foot in the hallway. Her running shoes squeaked along the

polished hardwood flooring. With each step, her eyes widened as she

advanced into a spacious living room. Two leather loveseat sofas greeted

them with a large LED television on the wall. Photographs of the city

landmarks and famous streets littered the walls. She even liked the look of

the small ceramic ballerina on top of the coffee table.

“Just how much is the rent for this place?” Helena asked, eyeing the

grand interior. It was impossible to get a spacious apartment in Dublin

without forking out a tonne of money.

“Laura’s dad owns the whole building, and since he loves his daughter

dearly...let’s say he gave us the place at an affordable rate.”

Helena raised a brow, doubting his answer.

With stealthy steps, Laura emerged behind them and slapped Helena on

the shoulders. “Glad you made it. Where’s your stuff?”

While Helena calmed her pounding heart, Andrew patted Laura on the

head, messing with her strawberry-blonde curls.

Laura Quinn wasn’t tall at five-foot-four, but what she lacked in height

she made up for in personality. An argument with her was like fighting *****

and alone against a horde of savages. Helena recalled a time when they

debated who would win a local singing contest. Her loss turned into an

escapade to bleach and dye her hair purple during a sleepover.

“I thought it would be best to get you in on the action,” Andrew said.

Laura pouted. “My arms ache from bringing my stuff here since you”—

she poked his chest with her index finger—“didn’t bother to help me.”

Andrew raised his hands in defence. “Hey, I went to collect Thorn. She

doesn’t have a car, unlike you. I bet if you wanted help, you’d make the

security guard your man-slave.”

“Very funny, and he’s not my type.”

Helena rubbed her eyes. These two had too much energy, and it wasn’t

even ten in the morning. “I’ll need the key card and the car keys.”

“Don’t worry, Thorn, I’m not going to abandon you and make you carry

your extremely heavy boxes alone,” Andrew said.

Laura crossed her arms. “Fine, jeez, I’ll help.”

“Brilliant. The more the merrier.” Helena started for the door, and Laura

stepped in her way.

“Forgot to ask you, how’s job hunting going? Do you want any help?”

“I’ll manage.”

“Alright, come to me when you’re stuck. Oh, and I’ll show you upstairs

while Andrew goes to get your stuff.” Laura didn’t wait for the reply and

half-dragged Helena up the metal staircase.

“Hey, who’s going to lend me a hand?” Andrew shouted after them.

Laura bent over the bannister. “We will join you soon enough. First, I’m

going to show Helena her room.”

“Right and this has nothing to do with you being too lazy to help. So,

you’re making her slack off, too?”

“We’ll be there in a few,” Laura yelled back. She dragged Helena away,

pushing her into a room on the left. “What do you think?”

Helena’s heart almost melted from happiness. Burgundy walls

encompassed them in a well-lit bedroom. Pale-blue sheets covered the double

bed that sat between two Butternut bedside tables. The furniture wasn’t what

she found to be the best feature of the room. From the window, she caught a

glimpse of the Irish Sea and let out a soft sigh.

“I knew you’d appreciate it. I had to fight my inner instinct to give this

room to you.”

“This scenery is amazing, but why?”

Laura winked. “You can view this as a bribe.”

Helena knew what was coming next. Laura was scheming something, and

this was an intricate attempt to butter her up with a pretend grand gesture of

selflessness. She waited until her friend drew in a breath.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, Hel, but what do you think of Andrew?”

Helena quirked a brow. She expected something regarding household

chores or helping Laura with her college assignments. This was unexpected.

“He’s a friend?”

Laura tapped her foot on the soft black carpet. “I mean as a guy. Do you

see him as a member of the opposite sex at least?”

Helena’s brows drew into a slight frown. “What are you getting at?”

“Okay.” Laura rolled her shoulders as if preparing for a fight. “It

surprised me when he said this. Like, who would have thought, right? And I,

as the best pal to both of you, think this might be a good thing. At first, I had

some apprehensions on the subject. Do you know what I’m trying to say?”

Helena’s frown deepened. “Can you speak in concise sentences and a bit

slower?”

“Jesus, Hel, you’re fast when it comes to anything other than romance.

Basically, Andrew asked me if you liked him.”

“Oh...” She hadn’t considered such an option. Andrew couldn’t be

interested in her. Sure, he teased her a lot, and called her by her nickname she

fought to ignore every time it reached her ears. The idea of dating him

seemed as alien to her as enjoying sports. Was there an upside? She heard

enough stories about friends falling out after starting a relationship. This

bothered her.

“Alright, I can see you’ve gone into your own little world,” Laura said.

“I don’t know how to answer you. I mean, I—”

“Never thought about it.”

Helena nodded.

“Well, give it a think. There’s still time. As for us, we best go and help

him out with your stuff or he will go into a complainathon.”

Helena snorted. “I thought that’s what you do.”

“I will remember that, Thorn. Now, let’s do this.”

Around eight, instead of waiting for the Chinese takeaway to arrive, Helena

went to her room. The splendid evening view from her window went

unnoticed as she switched on the bedside table lamp.

Finally, some peace and quiet, she thought and reached into her suitcase

for the journal.

Helena flicked through its pages, fascinated by the detail of the drawings,

until she found the familiar handwriting and launched into reading the

Russian text. Engrossed in the material, she missed the loud knocking on her

door. When it opened, she slammed the journal shut and swept it under her

pillow.

“What’s wrong?” she asked Laura.

“The food has arrived. I called and knocked but—” Laura pushed her way

into the room and closed the door behind her. “What were you reading?”

Helena thought of a response, something that wouldn’t make Laura think

she was insane for leafing through strange notebooks. “Just something I

found in the attic the other day.”

Laura’s lips formed into a sly smile. “I bet your mum’s romantic

escapades are written in it.”

Laura was a good friend, but sometimes, her curiosity could lead her to

do things that invaded the privacy of others. Helena knew Laura wouldn’t be

able to read it. That alone wouldn’t stop her. With the internet and online

software, anything could be translated. So, Helena played along. “It’s

embarrassing.”

“I knew it!” Laura strode over, her hand outstretched towards where the

journal lay.

Helena shot up; her hands clamped on Laura’s shoulders. “The food will

get cold.”

“Fine, but you’re going to tell me the dirty details later.”

“Sure.” She pushed her friend out of the room and called out to Michael

with her mind.

He replied in an instant. “Has something happened? You sound upset.”

“We’re going to have to talk about what’s inside that journal, and soon.”

Night came. To her knowledge, everyone else was asleep. She paced

around the bed with her arms crossed and her mind working overtime.

“What are you trying to say?” she asked Michael.

He didn’t reply and looked at her as if he was in pain.

“Is this another secret you can’t tell me about? He’s my real Dad! If he’s

been taken by the monster mentioned in grandmother’s journal, I have to

know—” She blinked away the tears. “—there’s a chance he didn’t abandon

us...”

“Helena,” Michael began in a soothing tone.

She threw her hands up in the air. “Don’t try to calm me and tell me how

to find him!” Biting back a curse, she reminded herself to be quiet, which

was becoming difficult with each passing second. She took a few calming

breaths. “Please, tell me something. Anything!”

“Lie down.”

She shook her head. “I’m not in the mood for relaxation.”

“If you wish to know where he is that badly, I can’t stop you. I will help

you, but you must pay attention.”

Helena’s eyes narrowed. She studied his poker face. As usual, he left no

indicators to tell whether this was some kind of ploy to get her to relax and

fall asleep or if he meant what he said. After mulling things over, she decided

to listen to him and flopped on the soft linen sheets.

“Close your eyes,” Michael said.

“What will that accomplish?”

He vanished and spoke in her mind. “You must heed my guidance without

question.”

Helena bit her lower lip and did as she was told.

N

“Now concentrate on my voice and visualise your whole body inside of a

bubble, or anything that makes you feel safe.”

Within seconds, she imagined a steel sphere. An air bubble didn’t give

her any security. She hovered in its confining bounds while unnerving

darkness encircled her. Being suspended in mid-air made her uneasy, so she

used the same principles and conjured a chequered floor beneath her feet.

Michael appeared next to her. His body emitted a faint glow that soothed

her nerves.

“What is this for?” she asked.

“This is a mental shield. It will protect you.”

“Protect me from what?”

“It’s dark in here,” he said, “try creating some light.”

Helena glared at him but didn’t press him further, afraid he would change

his mind and stop helping her. If doing this could be considered as help. She

took a deep breath and concentrated once again. This time, luminosity

flooded in from above.

Michael moved closer to the wall and, not wanting to stay behind, she did

the same. He touched the smooth surface, speaking each syllable with care.

“It seems you prefer metal as your guard. Many others use elements or

towering fortresses to protect themselves. Some even erect multiple layers,

which we should work on later.”

She tried wrapping her brain around his explanation. More questions

arose. “Who would create such things?”

Michael’s big, warm hand landed on her head, and he showed a ghost of a

smile.

Her eyes bulged out of their sockets. “You can touch me?”

“Your body is tied to your physical plane, and there I can do nothing.

Here, your mind is crossing into one of the planes where I can reach you,” he

replied. His expression grew serious. “I’m not the only one who can get to

you out here, which is why I asked you to design your own layer of

protection. It will use some of your energy to maintain, so don’t be surprised

if you grow tired.”

“Okay, so what’s next?”

“Take my hand, and we will travel to my realm. You must stay close to

me. Otherwise, I cannot mask your presence.”

She placed her hand in his, and he closed his slender fingers. The air

sizzled with energy as it cloaked around them.

In one swift gesture, Michael drew her into an embrace. A second later,

the shields melted away, and they arrived in an enormous chamber with tall

ivory pillars climbing upwards. A giant messy web of intertwined, multicoloured threads formed the “ceiling”. On the ground, they were arranged

into neat, endless rows held in place by golden weaving racks. The shiny

ebony floor gave a resemblance of an inverted mirror by reflecting the

entirety of the chamber.

She drew away from him and gaped at their surroundings. “Where are

we?”

“Angel Realm, the Domain of Fates.”

Helena tore her eyes away from the colourful web. “What if someone

finds us here? Won’t you get in trouble?”

“This place is no longer used by the Gods.”

“Gods? There’s more than one? I guess knowing that would make a lot of

religions sad.”

Michael admired the ceiling with a hidden emotion she couldn’t place.

“There was once one creator. He existed for so long even he forgot his

origins. He split into many lesser deities to experience more things at the

same time. To him sex, age, skin colour, even what he was, didn’t seem to

matter.” His words lost their warmth. “It is the final outcome that’s important

—a lesson to be learned.”

To her left, a grey strand vibrated. She reached out to touch it, but

Michael moved to stand in her way, shaking his head.

“No touching.”

She frowned. “Why not? It’s just a string.”

“Those are not strings. They are links to different beings on the planet.”

Taken aback, Helena lost her ability to speak. He couldn’t be serious. She

twirled around, taking a better look at the threads on the other side. White

was the most common colour. A few grey, black, and red peeked out between

them. In the distance, a golden string stood out amidst its monochrome

neighbours like a beacon. She squinted to try to make out anything past that,

but they dissolved into a white fog, too thick for her to see through.

“What do the colours mean?”

Michael studied her eager expression and sighed. “White is a normal

human. A shade of grey stands for a person influenced by or used by

darkness, or it could be a form of a supernatural being. Black colour belongs

to dark creatures such as soul eaters, certain demons, monsters that should

never be encountered in your realm.”

She pointed to a string and made her way towards it. “What about the

golden one over there?”

“Saints,” he said as if the word explained itself.

“What are they? Holy people?”

“I will speak no further on the matter.”

Helena wanted to know more. This whole experience was different to

anything she had ever done, yet, at the back of her mind, something bothered

her. It was as if she was forgetting something.

A blood-red thread stuck out in the row of white and grey. “What about

the red?”

“Vampires,” Michael spat out the term as if it was something disgusting.

The scarlet cord held her attention. The strange energy pulsed through it.

Helena read a lot of stories about folklore and mythical creatures, none of

which fascinated her as much as the blood-drinking beings. At last, she had a

chance to learn more about Michael’s world.

As she drew closer, she realised it wasn’t plain red. Rich, crimson liquid

coursed the string’s length without losing a single drop to gravity.

“Remember, Helena, no touching.”

She didn’t seem to care for his words. In that moment, nothing else

mattered. The string called to her, urged for her to take it, to have her fingers

test its texture. Her skin started tingling, and she reached out.

Michael’s heavy hand landed on her shoulder, bringing her out of a

dream-like state. “Perhaps we should return.”

“No!” she shouted.

Surprised by her outburst, Helena ducked her head in shame. What’s

wrong with me? The whole room buzzed with life. Thinking became a chore

and once her eyes focused, she saw her string sticking out of her gut. It

seemed paler against the other whites and didn’t shoot upwards like the rest.

She stroked it, revelling in the silky feel.

“What happens when two strings touch?”

Michael eyed the ceiling. “It adds an encounter.”

“And who decides that?”

“Fates.”

“But you said no one used this place anymore. How—”

Michael’s expression grew dark as if remembering something painful.

“They were banished to the Human Realm a long time ago. Since then, things

remain as the Gods wish for them to happen.”

Helena glanced back at the thread connected to a vampire somewhere on

the planet. Would we meet if our strings touched? She shook her head. That

wasn’t important right now. The reason they came here was to try to find her

father.

Her mother insisted he left them, but Helena never believed it. What if

something bad had happened to him because of the darkness described in

grandmother’s journal? If vampires and other supernatural beings were real,

there was a chance her grandmother wasn’t insane like her mother wanted her

to believe. There was a possibility he was taken from them. She needed to

know the truth.

“What about my dad? How do we find him?”

Michael seemed to think about it. “I will begin the search for his soul.

Wait here and do not touch anything.”

He made his way back to the entrance. As the distance between them

grew, a feminine voice whispered something like a chant at the back of her

head.

Her body stiffened, and as if possessed, she grabbed the blood-red string.

A chill rushed through her, raising the fine hairs on her arms and neck. The

energy bordering the link was nothing compared to what surged through its

core. It invaded her against her will.

“Helena, no!” Michael yelled.

But it was too late.

The chamber became a background noise, leaving behind an urge to unite

the strings. When she understood what she had done, her white link had

already wrapped itself around the vampire’s.

Her heartbeat thudded in her ribcage and her vision dissipated. A

powerful wave of alien energy fought its way through the bond which

appeared like a red-and-white bow. She clasped her hand over her burning

chest. Every part of her body hurt but didn’t at the same time.

An eternal minute later, her knees give way, and the last thing she

remembered was a sturdy pair of arms catching her fall.

The clock on her nightstand told her that it was two in the morning. She sat

up, switched on the lamp, and rubbed her face with her hands. Michael had

played her. The Angel Realm and her mental shields had to be a dream. He

must have used some kind of trick to get her to relax long enough to drift off.

She winced as a pounding headache kept knocking on her skull with a

hammering force.

“Michael?” she called out, needing answers.

Helena drew in a breath and prepared to call out again when he

materialised. His expression forced her to shut her mouth. Outrage glistened

in his eyes. And, if whatever happened was real, he had the right to be mad.

She had ignored his request to not touch anything. It wasn’t like she had a

choice. Her body moved by itself.

“Michael, I—”

“I don’t have much time to sit here discussing things with you, Helena. It

was a mistake bringing you along. I should have gone by myself. What you

—” He paused as if searching for the right word. “—did, should have never

happened.”

Helena massaged her temples, hoping to soothe the ache inside. It was

similar to the first hangover she got on her sixteenth birthday when Laura bet,

she could drink more. Even then, her friend emerged victorious.

“I’m sorry I did that. I wasn’t myself. It was as if—”

“No need for excuses. I must go. We will deal with the mess you’ve

caused later.” He vanished.

Helena crawled out of bed. His stinging words unsettled her heart. She

knew it was her fault for what happened, yet she didn’t do it on purpose.

Leaving her room in search of some aspirin, she edged down the hall. The

living room’s lamplight misted in from below, causing her to pause.

Everyone had to go to college in the morning. It didn’t make sense for

someone to stay up.

Her headache forgotten, she tiptoed to the staircase and peered over the

bannister. She entertained the thought it could be a vampire waiting for her.

Rationalisation banished the idiotic idea of a possible intruder who by no

means could locate her. The strings created an encounter. It wasn’t a tracking

device. Or, so she hoped.

The soles of her bare feet stung from the icy metal steps. Halfway down,

she made a mental note to buy some slippers for the apartment when she got

the chance. With her attention on the gleam, she cursed for thinking it could

be a blood-sucking monster when Andrew came into view. He sat on the sofa

with an opened book on his lap.

“You’re still up?” she asked.

Andrew’s head jerked in her direction. “God, don’t creep up on me,

Thorn. You know I have a weak heart.”

Helena rolled her eyes. He was a sports freak and played on multiple

teams in school. She never understood the fascination with running around a

field after a ball in sweaty uniforms. As a contrast to him and Laura, she

hated exercise and anything associated with it.

Andrew shut the book and deposited it on the coffee table. It wasn’t what

she expected. She assumed he was reading comics or something even less

mentally stimulating, not a volume on finance.

He ambled over and lifted her head with a gentle touch. “You look pale,

you should go back to sleep.”

The earlier conversation with Laura came flooding back, and her cheeks

flushed red. Without realising it, she took a step back.

Andrew scratched the back of his head and shifted his weight from one

leg to the other. “I see Laura has already talked to you about...um...that.”

Helena’s mind raced as she struggled to find the right words. Did she

need to give him her reply now or was there a certain amount of time she had

to think about the issue? Could she answer him?

“Helena, I didn’t ask you myself because I didn’t want to put you on the

spot, or maybe it’s because I’m a coward. I don’t know. What I do know is I

like you and have liked you for quite some time.”

He wasn’t wearing his cheesy smile. He seemed sincere, and it made her

feel something—her heart constricted as if wishing to pause in anticipation of

what was to come.

“Andrew, I don’t know.”

His hair danced on his forehead as he closed the gap between them.

“Take your time.”

Her breath caught when she became aware of how green his eyes were

and how smooth his clean-shaven face appeared. She fought the urge to touch

his cheek to test her theory for herself.

“Promise me you will think about it,” he said.

Her mouth went dry so, instead of saying anything, she gave him a quick

nod.

With a boyish grin, Andrew patted her on her head as he often did with

Laura. “Don’t stay up too late, Thorn.”

She frowned when he left. He returned to his normal self in a split second

whereas she stayed lost in her thoughts.

Helena placed her hand over her excited heart and imagined what it

would be like to date him. Although he seemed laid back about his studies,

seeing him reading his coursework prior to the term’s beginning told her that

he was anything but incompetent. He also seemed to have a serious side

which never surfaced until now. And, the way he watched her tonight was not

the same way he regarded other girls. He wasn’t kidding, and it scared her.

For lunch, she met with Laura in an on-campus coffee shop. It was full of

cheerful banter and loud conversations Helena tried her best to ignore. She

closed her eyes to enjoy the scent of a freshly brewed macchiato in her hands.

Ever since she woke up, a chill clung to her.

Laura sighed. “Are you even listening to me?”

Helena glanced up as her friend bit into her ham and cheese sandwich.

Breadcrumbs scattered on Laura’s navy voile shirt, and she brushed them

away with a flick of her hand.

“I can see that talking about my day has bored you senseless, so tell me

about yours.”

“Nothing happened. Lectures, new lecturers, and an excess of people,

that’s the best way I can describe my day.”

Tilting her head to one side, Laura said, “With me and Andrew as your

best friends, I thought you’d have learned how to make a friend or two. What

are you waiting for?”

Helena tried thinking of a good enough excuse to get Laura off her back.

The arguments she could use seemed either insignificant or something her

friend would immediately counter.

“See, even you can’t think of a reason for not making new friends!”

Helena lifted her hands in defeat. “Alright, I will try to talk to people

tomorrow.”

Laura put her sandwich on her plate and stared at her. “Tomorrow?”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing much other than you sound like a nicotine addict who might

quit smoking after her last cigarette runs out.”

With a drawn-out sigh, Helena scanned the crowd. College students were

scattered around in their groups, sharing their first day experiences with one

another. She was ready to drop her search when she spotted a girl from her

class, waiting to place an order at the till. She nodded in the direction of the

short-haired brunette in antique-looking clothing. “She’s in two of my

modules.”

Laura turned in her seat to take a quick peek. An unsettling grin stretched

her rosy lips. “I think we’ve found your target.”

“Now? You want me to talk to her now?”

“No better time than the present, Thorn. Go get her.” She made a shooing

motion with her hands.

With much reluctance, Helena rose and checked her sweater for stains. It

was clean. She straightened her posture and mentally grunted. It’s going to be

fine.

Chocolate-brown eyes spied her approach with weariness. Her palms

started sweating, so she wiped them on her jeans. The distance was covered

too quickly for her liking. Stopping two feet away, she cleared her throat.

“Hey, I’m Helena Hawthorn, and we are—”

“—in the same Mythology class. I am Nadine Smidt.”

They shook hands, and Helena blanked.

“Is there anything else you wanted to tell me?”

“Oh, right, yes!” Helena pointed to Laura. “Would you like to have lunch

with us? I mean, we are almost finished, but it’d be great if you could join us,

anyway.”

Nadine’s face lit up. “Let me get something to drink, and I will come

over.”

Making a beeline for the table, Helena knew what to expect. Laura

already had her ‘I told you so!’ look plastered on her face. Things turned out

better than she had anticipated. Maybe Laura was right and introducing

herself to someone was enough. That thought made Helena draw back on

giddiness. There remained many secrets she hid from her family and friends.

This was just another person to add to the list of people who wouldn’t know

the real her.

“What’s wrong? I thought you’d be happy to make a new friend.” Laura’s

concerned voice brought Helena back.

“I am. I’m sorry. I was thinking about an assignment I was given.”

Laura raised a brow, saying nothing.

When Nadine reached them, Laura shot out of her seat. The sudden

movement nearly knocked her chair back.

“I completely forgot!” Laura started clearing her things. “I’ve got work to

do. We’ll talk at home.” She winked at Helena and turned to Nadine. “It was

nice meeting you.”

As if her curled strawberry-blonde hair caught fire, Laura fled the room,

abandoning Helena to her quest.

Nadine didn’t seem to react to the situation at all. She pulled up a chair

and sipped her green tea.

When Helena thought of something to say, it seemed irrelevant, so she

remained silent.

After a few minutes, Nadine said, “Why did you choose to talk to me?”

“What do you mean?”

The girl settled the cup on her platter with the elegance of a lady,

something Helena hadn’t seen before. “There are a couple of other people

here from our course. Why pick me?”

She thought about it and shrugged. “You were the first person I

recognised, and I thought we could chat, maybe become friends.”

Nadine’s eyes grew wary. “You wish to be friends with me?”

“I would like to, yeah.”

Hiding her face behind her cup, Nadine didn’t respond. In two quick

gulps, she consumed her drink, gathered her things, and smiled that same

pleasant smile that unnerved Helena. “I believe I have class now. I am sorry I

couldn’t stay longer...”

Left to stare at the space where her classmate sat mere seconds ago,

Helena assumed that the chair possessed some kind of mystical power that

repelled people, or she was terrible at making new friends. She was leaning

towards the latter.

Once her lectures ended, Helena headed into the City Centre to hand out her

resume. She didn’t care where she found work as long as something came up.

Even though Laura and Andrew assured her it was alright for her to take her

time finding a job, she didn’t want to rely on them. She didn’t want to depend

on anyone for that matter. Not even Michael.

Now that she thought about it, she hadn’t seen him since they fought.

Was he getting an earful from his angelic higher-ups about her mistake?

She came to a stop at the traffic lights on Dame Street, and her shoulders

dropped. The sun had already set. How long did she have before the old

buildings were claimed by the night?

Across the road, out of a cluster of people, a man clothed in all black

stood out. He couldn’t be older than thirty, she guessed. He was tall and wore

a leather jacket and a pair of fitted jeans. The wind toyed with his raven hair.

His tantalising full lips formed into a half-smile, and she registered that his

piercing blue eyes returned her stare.

Heat crept to her cheeks, and she diverted her attention to the ground. She

hadn’t expected him to notice her.

The crowd shifted. She marched with the rest of the group, avoiding

further eye contact with people until she bumped into someone.

Two large hands wrapped around her arms, steadying her. That wasn’t

what made her raise her head. Where the person touched her, a prickling

sensation spread through her skin. Apologies fled her mouth. Looking up, she

realised it was the same handsome guy. She had made a mistake in her initial

judgement. His eyes were a mixture of blue-brown that had a hypnotic effect

on her.

A painful sting reverberated through her chest and strange energy tickled

her gut.

Surprise registered on the man’s face.

She tore herself away from him and rushed to create as much distance

between them as possible. Whatever she felt was not normal and anything

abnormal she learned to separate herself from, except Michael who swore his

mission was to watch over her.

She glanced over her shoulder multiple times, making sure he wasn’t

there. When she rounded a corner, Helena smacked her forehead with her

palm. Who would pursue a weirdo that ran off like a frightened animal?

With a heavy sigh, she moved on to drop off her remaining resumes near

her bus stop before taking the first bus home. It was high time she got

answers about her father and the strange link she had created.

Beyond her protective barrier, things seemed different. Something lurked in

the shadows. It's slithering energy circled her shields like a shark, waiting for

a crack—an opening of some kind. The hairs on the back of her neck rose,

and Michael’s words replayed in her mind, ‘Things would try to get in.’

Whatever was attempting to find its way inside did not seem friendly. The

creature’s energy chilled her to the bone, causing her to shiver. So, she did

the only thing she could think of and reinforced her shields with another layer

of steel. Although she didn’t know whether it worked or not, she somehow

felt a lot safer. That sensation didn’t last long.

The darkness coiled around her, forcing her barrier to creak like a

submarine being crushed by the pressure of the water. A rivulet of sweat

rolled down her forehead as she deepened her concentration.

What is that thing?

Fighting back, she fortified the structure with as many layers as she could

create. Her energy depleted, and she crumbled to her knees. She gasped for

air to fill her heaving chest.

In the distance, a bright light flashed.

Michael, she thought. He has returned.

His soothing glow cloaked her shields and forced the shadow back,

bringing relief and warmth to her chilled body. At last, she could decrease her

barriers to a single layer.

Amidst it all, someone’s voice called out to her, telling her to wake up.

There was an undertone of panic as the words bombarded her with sudden

urgency.

Someone tugged on her shoulders until her concentration broke, and she

was staring into a pair of green orbs. The panicked mumbling came from

Andrew. His face hovered above hers.

“Thank God you woke up!” He pulled her into a bone-crushing hug.

Unsure of what was going on, she awkwardly hugged him back. Her skin

got covered with gooseflesh as she shivered within the confines of his hold.

She felt as if she had been dunked in a pool of ice-cold water. Her pyjamas

proved it.

Through chattering teeth, she managed to say, “I’m cold.”

Andrew hurried to her wardrobe, flinging it open. He selected whatever

clothes he could find and returned to her side. Without warning, he started

lifting her T-shirt.

She slapped his hands away. “Whoa, I can change by myself!”

He seemed to realise what he was doing and turned away. “I’m sorry. I

didn’t mean to do that.”

“Why are you here?”

“Laura took a call for you downstairs. Since she left a note and went out,

I came in to give you the good news. But, when I found you, you were

groaning in pain. I rushed over to make sure you were alright... You were

freezing to the touch, and I tried to wake you.” He shoved his hands into his

pockets. “The rest you know yourself.”

Helena hugged him again. “Thanks for waking me up.”

Wrapping his arms around her, he brought her closer to his chest. The

warmth he radiated made her skin tingle. Not wanting to part, she buried her

face in the soft material of his shirt.

Once her shivering subsided, she awkwardly peeled away. “So, what was

the call about?”

Andrew’s lips stretched into a smile. “Looks like you got an interview

tomorrow.”

Three heavy knocks echoed throughout one of London’s backstreets.

While waiting, Lucious shoved his hands in his pockets. A quick glance

over his shoulder told him that no one else was nearby. He wrinkled his nose.

The stench of rotting meat invaded his acute sense of smell from a large halfopened bin a couple of feet away. He didn’t care what or who laid inside.

Lucious glared at the metal door. He jerked his hand out of his pocket,

ready to knock again when he heard heavy bolts being shifted on the other

side.

About time, he thought and straightened his posture.

The door opened a fraction. “Why did you come here?”

Lucious scowled at the cramped space. Half a face of a short, darkskinned vampire was the only thing visible. “You were the one who called

me here.” He forced the door open. “Tell me what’s going on.”

The scrawny, hunched over man studied him with eyes as dark as the

unlit alley he stood in. “You know exactly what’s going on!” Phil said,

moving out of the way.

Lucious strode inside the dull, grey-walled office and collapsed into a

chair. The soles of his boots stuck to the linoleum. Next to his foot, he noted

a bloodstain and wondered who had pissed off the old man enough to bleed

here.

“You are the informant, Phil, so get on with it.”

When five bolts locked in place, Phil ambled to his desk and eased into

his leather seat. He entwined his fingers on the stack of newspapers and

stared at Lucious as if searching for something.

Undaunted, Lucious returned the gesture. He didn’t care how old Phil was

or how influential. What mattered was the information he had stumbled upon.

Phil ran a shaky hand over his balding head. “You don’t know the

Council is looking for you, do you?”

If his heart could beat, it would stop once more. “Why me?”

“I don’t know. No explanations were given. If you are discovered, you

must be brought to them.”

Lucious pinched the bridge of his nose. What did the all-powerful

Council want with him? As far as he knew, he abided by the common laws.

There were no plausible reasons for their summons. “You said you found a

new trail.”

With a shake of his head, Phil replied, “You are a fool for not running

when you heard the words ‘Council’ and ‘looking for you’ in the same

sentence. But I will entertain the need to find your sire’s murderers. After all,

you’ve helped me clean up a few of my messes.”

The old vampire rummaged through a pile of coffee-stained paperwork

on his messy desk. Not an inch of the surface could be seen under the

mounds of papers, materials, and manila folders.

Does he even remember the original colour of his furniture?

Phil smirked and pulled out a note from the stack. He offered it to

Lucious who reached into his leather jacket’s pocket and retrieved a small

velvet case.

“Hope she likes it,” Lucious said.

Phil traded for the box and hid it in his desk drawer. “She always does.”

Rising to his full height, Lucious stashed the info away. He didn’t dare

dream this was the last time he had to chase the hunters responsible for

Anna’s death. “Are you certain the information is correct this time?”

“It has been over a century, Lucious. No one saw it happen, and we have

exhausted every avenue. I’m as good as the information given.”

“You’re right.”

He turned to leave when Phil added, “Be watchful of the Council’s

hounds. They never fail in their hunt.”

With an incline of his head, Lucious left. He had little time to find

whoever the named person on the note was.

While listening out for footsteps, he made his way to the closest phone

store. One of the halogen bulbs blinked on and off, but no human inside took

notice of it.

The girl serving the customers couldn’t be older than twenty-five. A

bright smile graced her lips when he walked in. Her dead, bleached hair

swayed from side to side as she bounced over, smelling of cheap cigarettes

and overpowering perfume. “How can I help you?”

Her high-pitched tone summoned forth a headache he didn’t have time

for. “I need the cheapest phone you have.”

The sales assistant pursed her lips. Seconds ticked by. She eventually ran

over to the wall decorated with different mobiles. She pointed to four bulky

models. “They range from ten to fifty pounds. Which one would you like?”

Lucious yearned for the end of their conversation, so he wouldn’t have to

take her outside and silence her harpy-like screeches. He wasn’t hungry from

his recent feeding, but her voice drilled away at his sanity.

He took out two fifty-pound notes from his pocket. “I have informed you

of what I need, child.”

She scowled. “No need to be a ****, mate.”

Lucious scanned the orange interior. The browsing customers had left,

and he was alone with this impudent human. He lifted her face, gaining her

attention. Her body relaxed once their gazes locked. Being undead had its

perks. One of them was an ability to influence weak-willed humans to do his

bidding.

A blue glow escaped through his irises, intensifying the effect of his hold

on her mental state. With minute force, her will to fight shattered. Once he

was certain of his control, he drew away from her.

“Give me the cheapest one, human. The rest you can put on it as credit.”

He handed her the money, and she scurried off, eager to please him.

When she returned, he left the store and copied the minimal number of

contacts to his new phone. He took out the battery from his old device and

discarded it into the nearest bin. The elders had countless ways of tracking.

He wasn’t about to give in without a fight.

He dialled the one person he could trust, and his friend answered after the

first ring.

“Alexander, it’s me.”

There was a heavy sigh on the other end. “Where are you?”

He scanned the dark alleys he walked past. “Still in London. I got a new

lead.”

“Are you insane? The Council wants you captured, and you are strolling

through the streets without a care?”

Lucious smirked at his friend’s concern. “Don’t worry. If this intel is

correct, I can finally relax. Anna will have her peace.”

“And if it’s not and you’re caught, what then?” Rapid typing

accompanied Alexander’s words. “Look, I can get you on a private jet, and

you can lie low at my club for a while.”

“I can’t go. Not yet. What if—”

“Come here, and I will track down your new lead myself.”

“I have to do this alone. I will meet with you once it is done.” Lucious

ended the call when he heard the beginning of a furious retort.

Tucking the phone in his back pocket, he headed for his hideout. Over the

century, he learned that staying in the same place for long brought nothing

but trouble. The elders weren’t the only people who wanted him found. He

wouldn’t be surprised if whoever put him on their radar was someone he had

pissed off.

With his vampiric speed, he fleeted through the dark alleys and into a few

buildings in case he was followed. Having arrived at his apartment, time

continued chipping away at the night’s sky.

This is it. He took out the piece of paper that burned a hole in his pocket

since he left Phil’s office and read the name. His shoulders slumped. It didn’t

ring a bell. Once everyone close to Anna was scratched off the list, the names

became a generic label. What did he expect?

Lucious strode to the fridge, pulled the heavy door open, and took out a

beer. He popped the cap off. Taking a swig of the chilled contents, he

collapsed on his torn divan to mull things over.

A strange flowery scent encompassed him, invading his mental shields

with foreign energy. His right hand tensed around the bottle and the other

shot to his aching stomach. He doubled over in pain and slid to the ground.

The bottle burst in his firm hold, and he grunted as the glass sliced his hand.

Beer mixed with his blood, staining an already dirty rug beneath him.

The stranger’s energy retreated, leaving behind a unique connection.

He clambered into a sitting position and rubbed his gut. The pain

subsided as fast as it came. He didn’t like it. Many vampires swore the

Council had witches working for them. The two races didn’t see eye to eye at

times, but there were a few rogues willing to bend the rules of their

community to benefit themselves.

He took out his burner phone and dialled Alexander. Once again, his

friend picked up without delay.

“Do you know any witches in my vicinity?” Lucious asked.

“What happened?”

“Something I didn’t expect.”

Alexander sighed. “Did you get cursed by a witch, too?”

Lucious burst into laughter. With the way things were turning out today,

it wouldn’t surprise him if that was their next goal. “No, I am merely being

tracked by one.”

“I’m glad you have retained your sense of humour, old friend, but it’s not

the right time for it.”

Lucious stood. Eyeing the ruined bottle of beer on the floor, he

contemplated whether it was worth uncorking another one. “So, can you help

me or not?”

Alexander grumbled something in Russian, and the sound of laptop keys

came through the speaker. “Sorry, the only witch who would aid us is here.”

“You’re not saying that to get me to come over, are you?” A shuffling

noise beyond the door made him halt. This building wasn’t well-populated,

and he made certain no one lived on the same floor as him. He turned the

phone off and slid it into his back pocket. Light on his feet, Lucious edged

closer to the door, listening for movement outside.

Upon reaching the door, it burst off its hinges. A split second passed, and

he was pinned to the ground by a vampire who was worthy of being a

professional wrestler.

A cold, hard object pressed against his side, and he stopped struggling.

The hounds carried weaponry with silver ammunition which, in the wrong

place, was a death sentence to anyone of their kind.

Today is not a good day.

“Lucious Ellwood, you are hereby ordered to attend your trial tomorrow,

and I am here to escort you.” The vampire grasped Lucious’ throat. “Any

attempt to fight me will result in your immediate execution.”

Lucious kept most of his body as still as possible. Meanwhile, he used his

free hand to search nearby. His fingers found the broken bottle and gripped

around the neck.

“Did I make myself clear?”

“Perfectly.” Lucious lifted himself and mid-roll plunged the jagged edge

straight into the hound’s chest. The sound of cracking bone overpowered the

loud explosion from the intruder’s gun.

A scream tore out of the man’s mouth as he scrambled away. His back hit

the wall and, with trembling hands, he reached for the glass bottle protruding

from his ribcage whilst trying to aim his pistol.

Lucious didn’t bother to stick around and wait. Where there was one

hound, there could be another.

A curse left his lips, and he fled the building. He ran until fatigue swept

over him, and his calves burned. There wouldn’t be a single place where he

would be welcome now that even Alexander heard the news. He was dead

meat to the rest of the vampire community.

Lucious leant against the side of an office building and contemplated his

next move. He had two choices: abandon his lead and figure out why the

elders were after him or stay and try dodging the Council as he continued his

search. Neither option appealed to him.

He slammed his fist into the wall, causing uneven red chips of brick to

fall. The cut from the bottle had already healed and was replaced by a fresh

layer of skin. No other choice remained. For the last time, he drew his phone

out of his pocket and sent Alexander a message: I’m taking you up on your

offer. L

Lucious boarded Alexander’s private jet as the sun rose above the horizon. At

least, the weather was on his side, hiding the heinous rays behind the stormy,

grey clouds.

A beautiful flight attendant swayed her hips in her skin-tight skirt while

she led him to his seat. She handed him a smartphone and an envelope with

his name on it.

He took the offered items and fell into the leather armchair where he tore

off the envelope’s side.

“Would you like to feed, Mr Ellwood?” she asked, pulling her ebony

locks away from her neck.

His throat went dry, and the ache in his stomach informed him it was

empty. I should have finished my beer.

The woman slid onto his lap, extending her neck as an offering. Her spicy

perfume invaded his senses. Placing her palms on his shoulders, she drew

close until she was a few inches away from his lips.

Using the pad of his thumb to stroke her jugular, he brought the pulsating

vein near the surface, causing her to **** and dig her nails into his jacket.

Uncomfortable in his seat, he shifted. A silver gleam next to his neck alerted

him.

He pushed the girl off, sending her to the ground with a loud thud.

“You should have behaved, Mr Ellwood!” She lunged at him with a

syringe in her left hand.

He grasped her wrists, pulling them both above her head.

“Bastard!” she shouted, not stopping her struggle as he jerked the sharp

object out of her hand and tossed it away.

The pilot rushed out of the cockpit. “Is something wrong back here?”

Lucious barely contained his bark of laughter when he glanced at the

panicked human peering from behind the separation curtain with his mouth

agape.

The flight attendant seized Lucious’ distraction as an opportunity and

kicked him in the crown jewels.

Electrifying agony spread through his lower half as he folded in on

himself. Black spots marred his vision while he struggled to retain his

standing position. His nostrils flared. Past the pain between his legs, he

concentrated on his spiking anger.

The girl scrambled on all fours towards the syringe.

“I guess”—Lucious took a handful of her dark hair and lifted her head to

meet his eyes—“I will have that dinner you so kindly offered.” He bit into

her neck, not caring if he was hurting her.

She screamed and flailed in his arms as he sucked her life blood into him.

A rumble escaped his throat. This human tasted of cigarette ash and dirt,

ruining her sweetness.

Once he drained her, he tossed her lifeless husk to one side.

“Sir, ar-are you alright?” the pilot asked as he wiped his palms on his

black trousers.

Lucious raised a brow at the question. Alexander had a knack for hiring

odd employees, some more murderous than the others. “As well as I can be.”

The pilot returned to the cockpit with quivering legs, providing Lucious

with the peace and quiet he craved.

In the envelope, he found a card with Alexander’s cursive handwriting.

One sentence in black ink contrasted against the white paper: Look out for the

flight attendant.

Lucious pinched the bridge of his nose. His friend sure had a bizarre

sense of humour. Exhausted after the ordeal, he closed his eyes. He felt the

connection that tugged at his gut. But, for some reason, the further he got

from England, the more excited it grew.

Lucious awoke from the loud ringing next to him. The time on the bright

screen of his phone told him it was ten minutes past 6 p.m.

He grumbled a greeting and studied his whereabouts. He was in a hotel

room, lying on the bed near a set of drawn pink polka dot curtains. It was

dark enough for him to have to squint to make out where the door was. The

pilot must have brought him here after he drifted off. With the hounds on his

trail and the exhausting search for his sire’s killer, he had become open for an

attack.

“I take it you’re still alive,” Alexander said.

“Next time you send me a present like that, call me beforehand. There

was no time to read your beautiful handwriting during her attempt to kill

me.”

Alexander laughed. “I didn’t send her, but I had my suspicions.” His

amusement faded. “It’s time for you to get up. I have arranged for you to

meet the witch.”

Lucious slipped into his black leather jacket. “Tell me where and when.”

Much of Dublin remained the same. Humans hated change as much as

vampires. The more the world morphed into something new, the harder the

adjustment came to either race or such was his interpretation.

He stopped at the traffic lights. The ache in his gut resumed, so he

attempted to rub it better, but it made no difference. He ignored it by looking

ahead. A handful of people across the street were staring at him, most of

which were women of different ages, but one stood out. Her hazel eyes

dissected his soul, and when he forced a smile, she looked away like a guilty

thief.

The light changed to green, and he moved closer to where the girl would

pass. With her head down, she bumped into him, and he caught her. The

moment his hands landed on her shoulders, the pain stopped, and his fingers

tingled with alien energy.

What is she?

She assessed him with large eyes. They didn’t belong to a well-trained

witch he expected to find. This was a girl no older than twenty. There was no

way she could possess the power to track him from another country. Then

again, she could be part of the local Circle.

The wind blew past, filling his nostrils with her flowery scent, and he

knew he was not mistaken.

She tore away from him and hurried past.

The car on his left honked, telling him the lights had changed.

Without further delay, Lucious shadowed her. Innocent or not, she had

created a connection he did not need. If the Council reached her first, she

could locate him with ease. He couldn’t allow that.

The girl glanced over her shoulder occasionally. Her caution didn’t bother

him. Hiding in the dark was something he grew accustomed to when hunting

his prey.

Once she reached a bus stop, she placed her hand on her chest as if trying

to calm her heart. There was nothing noteworthy to her. She wore simple

clothes: jeans and an anorak. Rushing into a store, she bumped into a burly

man. A flurry of apologies stumbled out of her mouth, and she kept her head

low. She manoeuvred around the shop to meet with the clerk, handed

something over, and ran outside to catch her bus.

Lucious waited for the bus to pass. He entered the busy store, closing in

on the clerk with long strides.

A teenager behind the counter asked, “Do you need any help?”

He concentrated on the kid’s eyes, and the teen’s expression slackened.

“Hand over what the purple-head gave you.”

The teen produced a few sheets of stapled paper titled ‘CV’.

Sitting on the bench in the nearby park, he skimmed through her resume.

She was nineteen—a child. She had given her contact details, but no address

—smart girl. He scanned the pages for anything else that could give him an

idea of what she was. To his dismay, there was no more useful information,

so he saved her phone number.

Lucious arrived at the private estate belonging to one of his oldest friends. He

paused at the three-storey Victorian mansion Alexander had converted into a

nightclub sometime in the mid-nineteenth century. A red neon sign above the

entrance had curving letters moulded into the words ‘Russian Roulette’

irradiating the place like a Christmas tree in this dark hour.

He approached the beginning of the queue where a bouncer guarded the

main door to the club. “I’m here to see Alexander.”

The man whose nametag read ‘Dean’ sized him up with one look. “And,

you are?”

“Expected. Be a good fellow and step aside.”

With his patience wearing thin, Lucious released the hold on his mental

shields. He let his energy leak out and tightened it around the bouncer. An

extra century of being alive gave a vampire more power over the young.

Dean sensed the intrusion and took an uncertain step back. He beckoned

for Lucious to pass. “I hope you’re not here to cause trouble.”

Lucious ignored him and ambled inside. Things hadn’t changed much

since the last visit. The plum-coloured reception room seemed darker with

sparsely spaced low-wattage bulbs embedded in the ceiling. The loud boom

of rock music guided him to where Tanya, Alexander’s sole childe, sat with a

fashion magazine on her lap.

Without looking up, she pointed at the price list on the wall.

“Tanya, where is he?”

She dropped her copy of Vogue at the sound of his voice and bounced out

of her seat. Without warning, she launched herself at him, trapping him in a

tight embrace.

“I have missed you. You have not called in forever,” she whispered into

his ear.

Lucious peeled her arms off and moved out of her reach. “I’m sorry, I’ve

been busy.”

Flicking her blonde hair back, she pouted. “That is what they all say.”

When he didn’t offer anything, she sighed and gestured to the hallway on

her left. “He should be in his office. You know the way.”

He started for the door, and she grasped his arm. The palm of her hand

pressed onto his chest and her long nails dug in through the leather of his

jacket. Yet, he felt nothing when she flirted with him. No matter how many

years had passed, he had accumulated no romantic feelings for her.

“Come see me after you’re done or if you need anything.” She winked.

Lucious wanted to shake her off and head over to Alexander. Fighting

that urge, he gave her a light peck on a cheek.

“Will do, luv,” he whispered back.

“You’re such a tease,” she said, retreating to her desk.

Lucious took this chance to find Alexander’s office. He followed a long

dimly lit corridor cluttered with posters of bands he had no interest in. Once

he reached the steel door at the end of the windowless path, he stopped.

Raising his hand, he knocked once. The sound reverberated through the

thick metal. Upon hearing an invitation, he entered the room and groaned in

annoyance at Alexander’s intimate scene playing out.

Alexander was notorious for having multiple partners in bed. Today was

no different. A lean, pale man rested between two just as ***** women on a

king-sized bed.

Lucious diverted his attention to the interior of the office. The ebony desk

was overflowing with paperwork, more posters, and balance sheets. Black

marble tiles gleamed beneath his booted feet. They contrasted against the

ivory furniture in the room. Those were the only two shades Alexander

approved of—something that existed outside the standard colour range, like

vampires among humans.

“Don’t be shy,” Alexander said. “You can come and join us if you like.”

Lucious shook his head and plopped into an armchair across from the

desk.

Alexander whispered something to the girls, and they climbed off the bed.

He found a pair of white suit trousers on the floor and tugged them on. Once

half-dressed, he nudged a short-haired brunette’s side. “Allow me to offer

you some dinner then.”

The young woman glanced over her shoulder at Alexander as if asking

for permission.

With a semi-interested expression, Lucious watched her gliding towards

him. She looked too young to be here. On her slender body, he counted a

dozen bite marks and grimaced.

Lucious lifted his hand in protest. “No, thank you. I already ate.”

The brunette ran her hands over her small breasts. “Are you sure, honey?”

“Quite.” He dismissed the human by diverting his attention to Alexander.

“We need to talk.”

His friend raked his fingers through his short platinum hair. Pale-grey

eyes assessed Lucious from underneath his dark brows. He barked something

in Italian, and the girls scattered to gather their clothes. It did not take long

until they ran out of the office, muttering their displeasure under their breath.

As Alexander strode over, Lucious tried recalling their last meeting.

Although he visited Ireland a decade ago, he didn’t drop by the club. His

interest lay with the lead he was chasing which, in the end, led him nowhere.

The last time they spoke face to face had been close to fifty years ago when

things went south with Zafira—a time best forgotten.

Lucious rose from his seat and extended his hand in the form of a

handshake. “It has been too long.”

“It sure has.” Alexander ignored his hand and drew Lucious into a tight

hug. “As always, all manners and awkwardness. You Brits need to learn to

relax more.”

Immobile from the embrace, Lucious patted Alexander on the back.

Alexander chuckled and released him without another word. He opened

his drinks cabinet in his desk. “Shall I bother offering you another drink?”

“I think I need it after everything that’s going on.”

“And, what is going on?” Alexander found two crystal glasses from his

second drawer, filled them mid-way with amber alcohol from a decanter and

handed one over.

“It would seem you already know.”

“If I knew, I would not risk my immunity to hide a fugitive from Eliza

and the rest of the Council. Come with me.”

They passed through a set of double doors into a spacious living room. Its

walls were hidden by bookcases and antique daggers resting in their glass

cases.

Alexander sat on the white leather Chesterfield sofa. “I’m listening.”

Lucious took the invitation and relaxed into an armchair across from him.

He placed his drink on the glass coffee table and clasped his hands together

over his stomach. “Where do you want me to start?”

“Why not begin with why you didn’t go to the witch you wanted to see? I

got an earful of how I wasted her time and that she’s on the verge of cursing

us both.”

“It’s because I found her.”

Alexander’s dark brows drew together. “Found who?”

“The witch, or whatever she is, that created the connection between us.”

He recalled the way she looked—almost too innocent for her own good.

“And what? You let her go?”

Lucious grinned. “I got her name and phone number.”

Alexander downed his poison of choice. “To be honest, I don’t know why

you didn’t take her with you. I would have influenced and fucked her until

she told me who she was working for.”

“I am not into kids, Alexander.”

Alexander’s brows shot up. “Hum, a young witch with tracking spell

capabilities? This I have got to see.”

“It’s not a tracking spell. It’s something else.”

“Alright, I’ll bite.” Alexander lifted his laptop from the seat next to him

and nestled it on his lap. “Tell me her details, and I’ll see what I can find out

about her.”

Lucious did as instructed. While his friend worked away on his computer,

he finished his scotch.

Ten minutes passed, and Alexander blew out a hefty sigh. “She doesn’t

belong to any Wiccan Circles in the databases I possess. She is a...student and

is almost normal.”

“Almost normal?”

“Looks like our little witch got a lot of therapy as a kid, but her records

are sealed. I can’t gain access to that information from here. Want me to send

someone to retrieve the data?”

Lucious rubbed his chin with interest. “Why don’t we ask her in person? I

have an idea.”