Jonathan pushed hard against the black, translucent barrier. It did not budge. The golden vapour exhaled from Duncan’s mouth was getting more sparse, and the symbols on the talisman were almost completely covered in gold by now.

Wait, the silver cross!

Jonathan pulled out Quentin’s cross and thrust it in front of him without thinking. A bubble of black flashed a few times before disappearing as his hand went through the barrier. He removed the red gem tied to Duncan’s forehead.

The witch doctor sucked in a loud gasp as his eyes flew open. Jonathan laughed in relief. There were probably more than a million ways that could have gone wrong, and he was glad he did not need to think about it now. Duncan swiped two glowing fingers across the string of gold dust, and the talisman stopped pulsing.

“My thanks, boy.” He got off the altar, but almost fell to the ground. Jonathan rushed to support him.

“It seems I only have enough elixir left in me for one last life.” Duncan placed a hand on his chest weakly. “I never thought I’d see the day I become mortal again.”

“It’s alright. Just make more golden pills when we get out of here,” Jonathan said, looking at the battle still raging on. The roof was somehow torn open now without him noticing, and moonlight flooded the house.

Lucy slashed at Michael with her claws, but he avoided them easily. He was too nimble, too comfortable fighting in this form. And that was a huge disadvantage for his opponent who spent most of her life as a dainty woman. She screeched as yellowish claws burst through her back, and gurgled as her brother immediately sank his fangs into her collarbone.

The female vampire fell to the ground, enduring blow after blow from her brother. It did not take much longer before she was reduced back to a lady sprawled on the floor. The bat monster shrunk back down to his human form as well and lifted his sister up with one hand. He hurled her against the wall vindictively.

“This is going to hurt you much more than it hurts me.” Leofric Carpenter ripped a chunk of wood from the broken pieces of the roof.

“Wes hāl, sweoster.” His eyes glinted with anticipation as he plunged it towards her heart-

“No!” Jonathan stretched a hand out futilely, but it was too late.

Blood dripped onto Lucy’s shocked face. Duncan groaned, blood pouring from his open mouth as he clutched the bloodied wood protruding from his chest. Jonathan stood rooted to the ground, shocked by the witch doctor’s foolish heroism.

“What? Nay!” Michael bellowed in anger. “Fool of a witch!”

Duncan snapped his glowing fingers and called to Jonathan. “Now, boy! While it’s still in place!”

The clouds above the open roof parted, and moonlight shone onto the vampire. A cross shaped glow reflected it from within his torso. Jonathan’s eyes darted to the empty spot where the silver cross should have been and widened in realisation.

Waypoint magic revealed by moonlight.

He pulled out his knife and ran towards Michael, who was already a statue to the speedster. The knife went through his waist from one end to another. Jonathan sliced again. The blade went through his head this time. And again. And again. Until every inch of the vampire’s flesh was separated from each other.

Diced up pieces of blackened meat fell to the ground in Michael’s place and began to move as though each of them possessed a life of their own. They tried to wriggle towards each other, but were seemingly repelled by the silver cross lying in the middle. Jonathan quickly grabbed the red gem and shoved it forward.

“Burn him! Burn this vampire with holy fire!” he yelled, hoping that the gem would somehow understand him.

There was an awkward pause. And then golden fire spurted from the gem, searing the sentient flesh still trying to piece themselves together. The blinding fire left as abruptly as it came, leaving not even a single trace of the vanquished vampire. The silver cross sat unharmed on the floor, as though protected by some kind of magic. Jonathan heaved a sigh of relief. Michael O’Cornell was no more.

Jonathan turned his attention to Duncan. Lucy was kneeling beside him, holding his bloodstained hand tightly while he barely kept his eyes open.

“Hey…” Her voice was thin as she forced a smile through her tear-stained face. “You’ll be okay, right? Y-you still have spare lives… Right?”

“Not… this time. It’s the end of the road for me.” Duncan smiled and shook his head. “I’ve lived, eh? What… better way for a man to go, than to die… protecting his loved ones?”

“No, no…” Lucy shook her head as she shakily bared her fangs. “Don’t leave me… I won’t let you…”

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“Come now, Lucy.” Duncan choked back a raspy chuckle. “We both know… that won’t work.”

“Oh, Duncan…”

Duncan turned to Jonathan. “You’ve got heart, lad. Don’t… ever lose it.”

“Take care of each other, alright?” He closed his eyes serenely. “So this is what… oblivion looks like. So… beautiful.”

Duncan’s last breaths escaped his mouth as a smile etched itself on his face. “It’s so… peaceful.”

His chest stopped heaving.

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Duncan was buried in the conveniently located graveyard beside the mansion. His burial could have been over in less than a second, but Lucy insisted on digging the ground herself with her bare hands. Jonathan made sure to keep up with her speed out of respect.

A clap of thunder sounded, and the sky began pouring again as Jonathan propped up a nameless tombstone six feet above the makeshift coffin. Christ, way to set the mood… There were so many words he wanted to carve onto the stone to honour the man, but it was probably for the best to keep his identity unknown. Jonathan turned his head to his companion.

“You should probably check up on your lady friend,” Lucy mumbled. “Give me some time to myself, alright?”

“R-right…” Electricity crackled over his body as he prepared for a run.

“Hey, Jon.”

Jonathan turned back, and felt her soft hand pat his head affectionately.

“Thank you.” Lucy smiled warmly at him. “You did good, dearie.”

The speedster nodded awkwardly and vanished into the distance.

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The witch market was buzzing as though it had not been literally on fire just two hours ago. Jonathan trudged absentmindedly along the streets while some patrons casted worried looks at him. Or maybe they were looks of pity. He was still feeling too numb to tell the difference. Jonathan stopped in the market abruptly and looked around as though he had suddenly been transported there. What was he doing here again?

“Jon, you’re back!” Anya’s cheery voice found its way to him over the background noise. Her footsteps got closer while Jonathan was still staring blankly into the distance. He barely felt her hold his arm.

“Hey, are you alright?” She blinked her emerald eyes with an adorably confused look on her face. Jonathan’s vacant eyes drifted to his friend. Was it just today, or has she always looked this precious to him?

Anya let out a small squeal as her childhood friend suddenly brought her into a tight embrace. She hugged him back tightly, but quickly let go before the other market occupants screamed at them to move out of the way. They moved to the side of the street.

“I… Duncan is dead, and so is Michael,” Jonathan struggled to speak. “Duncan sacrificed himself to save Lucy, and I vanquished Michael. He was the one who killed my father seventeen years ago.”

Anya’s eyes widened at the revelation, but quickly softened again as she placed her hand on Jonathan’s arm.

“I’m so sorry, Jon. That must’ve been so hard for you to see,” she breathed, looking into the distance. “What a tragic way to close the case. May all his victims finally rest in peace.”

“No, the case isn’t closed yet.”

“What do you mean?”

“Michael didn’t kill the auctioneer. I don’t think he has any reason to lie, since he admitted to killing my father.”

Anya furrowed her eyebrows, and took out the case file from her impossible deep coat pocket. She put a finger under the words describing the autopsy. “But he died from two puncture wounds to his neck. If it isn’t a vampire, who else would kill him in that manner-”

“The cause of death is exsanguination via two puncture wounds to his carotid arteries…” Jonathan mused, squinting at the words as well. “Hold up, he only died from the puncture wounds! Anya, a vampire kills their prey by draining their blood. He shouldn’t be dead if he was only bitten!”

“You’re right!” It was Anya’s turn to exclaim. “Oh my, can’t believe I missed out that detail! A vampire was never the murderer.”

“Oh, and another thing,” Jonathan continued. “Michael said he was given the red gem by someone. I believe the blue gem is within me now. So that leaves…”

“The white gem.” Anya nodded. “The auctioneer was killed for the white gem. Dammit, we’re out of leads for that one.”

“Not necessarily. I know someone who might be able to help us.”

“Who?”

“Let’s go to the headquarters.” Jonathan pulled her to the exit. “I hope he’s there. I’ll tell you about him on the way-”

“No, wait.” Anya shook his hand off and clasped her hands together. “I wanna try.”

Jonathan stared at her quizzically as Anya muttered something under her breath. He glanced at her necklace which was glowing golden. Jonathan tilted his head in confusion. Wait, since when was she wearing that neckl-

“Woah!” Jonathan yelped as an oval shaped portal burst from the accessory.

“Oh my god, I did it!” Anya squealed in delight as a golden glow pulsed from within her fingers. “Thank you, Gelfant! You’re such a great teacher!”

Jonathan looked at her in both awe and jealousy as he stepped into the portal.