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Slade slipped from the tent with a sinking feeling. Lomos was a louse. That was her first thought when he’d confessed to giving his first born to vampires to ‘save’ him rather than run like hell and live with the consequence of being a wolf for the rest of his life. But now—just now, she couldn’t measure her admiration for him. And Eli...he was making quite a sacrifice.

Now it was her turn. She needed to act like a vampire. And vampires didn’t have doubts.

This had to work. For there to be a future for vampires or even...humans. Her gut roiled again at the thought—the irony that her children would be what could save the vampires.

It was cruel. She touched her own chest and waited. No signs of Legion. But Legion knew. That was why she’d set Slade on a path to Eli. This was exactly why.

“Look! Look.” Two fairies floated close, peering at a smartphone video.

They whispered amongst themselves then flew to the closest werewolf standing guard at the tent.

“We wanted to show you something,” the girl fairy said, giggling. She turned the video to the man who blushed.

The male fairy held the female’s shoulder and peered over her head to the werewolf. “And guess what,” he said with a grin, “only one of those wolves is a were.”

Repulsed, the werewolf turned his face from them. “That’s disgusting.”

Both fairies sagged. Their flying was a lot choppier as they watched him.

They traded a glance with each other and the girl nudged the boy. “Maybe he’s just shy. You ask.”

“Right.” The freckles of the male fairy’s cheek shimmered as he flew to the offended werewolf and held up the video. “We wanted to ask you which one’s which.”

Wearing a cold expression, the werewolf stared through them.

The male Fae tried again. “Come now. We’re all adults here. If you—”

“Get that shit outta here, you sick fucks.” A slap of the hand sent the smartphone flying.

When it landed, the girl fairy covered her face and broke into tears.

“You’re terrible. Simply terrible!”

Her male counterpart held her close and looked around for any help. “Bully. This werewolf’s a bully!” he cried.

There was no flying for them after that. In fact, they limped once their other fairy counterparts rushed to them.

Fortunately or unfortunately, the video landed at Slade’s feet. The two wolves mating was on a loop. She groaned.

“Why me? Why’d it have to land by me?”

Marrow charged the tent, his wings picking up dirt due to the speed.

“Get out here,” he commanded. “Bring your wolf leaders out here. We demand an explanation!”

The werewolf to box the phone to the ground shared a glance with Slade—they both wanted to leave. That chance faded when a couple of wolves came thundering toward them. After shifting mid jump, they dragged on their kilts and rushed to intercept the commotion.

The guilty werewolf drew himself up to his full height.

Marrow gripped his cane, his eyes wild with anger and fury. “Somebody explain what’s happened! We demand it. Are we not allies against the filthy fampires!”

Of the two werewolves to arrive, one was a woman. Instead of one cape, she had two. One she wore around her waist, the other around her shoulders.

She was the one to find the video at Slade’s feet. After viewing it, she was less-than-pleased. “What is the meaning of this?”

Marrow flew forward to investigate. He watched the video far too long before clearing his throat. “I wonder who that belongs to. Surely you don’t mean it’s ours.”

The two offended fairies clung to each other, both with tears in their eyes.

“And even if it was, what is wrong with it?” Marrow looked from one person to the next. “It’s got wolves on it. Seems likely it belongs to one of you.”

Eyes squinted, the she-wolf cocked her head. “But are you sure these are werewolves?”

Marrow fluttered forward but caught himself and moved back. “Are you saying one is not a werewolf? Or that they’re both werewolves? How can you tell which one?”

The eagerness of his words made the she-wolf bristle. Teeth gnashed, she opened her mouth to scream but Slade snatched the phone.

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“Sorry. This is mine.”

A collective silence had her looking from the fairies to the werewolves, challenging either group to bring the all-out fight that was inevitable.

The first werewolf, the one to box the phone, looked ready to confess but Slade shook her head.

“There’s no sense. Right?”

He took a step back. Although the two authoritative werewolves looked between them, the she-wolf focused on Marrow’s smug expression.

The fairy folded his arms. “You heard her. If you’ve got some sort of prude law, take it up with this filthy fampire.”

“That...won’t be necessary.”

“What?” the injured fairy couple asked in unison.

“But we’re injured,” the male said. “Look at our wings.”

The she-wolf made a growl, much like Eli made before pouncing.

Slade closed her eyes, sucked in a deep breath, and turned to them. “Lovely fairies, are you sure those injuries were intentional? I promise you, you’re mistaken.”

All fairies in attendance gasped in one breath.

“Are you saying...” Marrow said, appalled, “that we’re making this up? That it’s in our head?”

That sinking feeling came back. Why couldn’t she have shut up? “Well—”

“It was her,” the female fairy said, pointing. “Of course, it was her. It makes so much sense now. She hypnotized him. She hypnotized him to hit us. Admit it. Admit what you did. Everybody loves us. No one would say even one bad word to us. So it must have been the hateful, hateful fampire.”

To his credit, the werewolf to blame for all this stepped forward to counter the argument.

Slade raised her hand to him and said, “Yes. You are right. I hypnotized him.”

“String her up,” the male fairy hissed. “She deserves to be strung up in the sun.”

“You come with us,” the she-wolf said, leading Slade away. “Right this way, vampire.”

“Are you gonna string her up?” the female Fae demanded. “Let us see it. Let us see it so we can be well!”

“Rest assured,” the she-wolf said, looking back, “she’ll get what’s coming to her.”

They left the now satisfied fairies and closed in on a score of wolf pups and she-wolves tending to them. That’s where Slade saw her—Sarah. They made eye contact only once before she hurried to her feet and asked the male werewolf walking with them, “Is Eli here?”

After receiving a nod to the main tent, she set off. Slade didn’t bother watching her go.

“Where are you taking me?” she asked the she-wolf.

“What you did was stupid,” the woman admonished. When they were close enough to the forest, she let Slade go. “But I won’t forget it. Stay out of trouble here with the witches.”

Witches? Slade glanced to her right and saw them, six blindfolded women huddled together. They were attended by two of the younger witches who still retained their sight.

Slade hated being around witches as they were rather creepy. She was almost tempted to take her chances with the Fae. At least those jackasses she understood.

But witches? How was she supposed to trust people who willfully blinded themselves by a certain age?

Someone stepped from the tent closest to them and called out, “Ladies, we’re ready.”

Davenport.

When he caught sight of Slade, he looked about ready to run.

He stopped the first witch from entering, whispering, “Can we do this at a later time?”

“There is no later time,” the hag drawled. “This is the witching hour. Take it or leave it.”

The harpy—faux harpy—debated her words then nodded. After all six were in, the two young witches guarded the entrance.

Slade wanted to inquire about their dealings but the she-wolf took her leave.

“Tri Xe,” someone muttered.

“Tri Xe?” Slade gasped. She stepped forward to investigate but the two witches took on a defensive stance.

“Try it, vampire. There is no stronger hour for us,” one warned.

“Yes, but....” Slade heeded their words and stepped back. Maybe she’d been wrong. But she knew that name.

“Three daughters three,” the chant started from within the tent.

Thunder rumbled and clouds rolled in.

A spell. A powerful one at that.

“Come on, ladies,” Davenport cheered, “you’ve almost got her. Summon it again! Get the offspring as well.”

Helpless, Slade waited. The first drop of rain had the werewolves scrambling for shelter. Slade didn’t move—it would only last the length of the spell.

A harrowing scream broke through the night and she gasped. She knew that voice. There was no mistaking it now.

Trixie.

“Almost there, ladies. Put your backs into that chant. Come now!”

Lightning struck close by. Slade flinched.

And just like that, the storm ebbed and cleared. With that calm came the cries. “Break it. Save Trixie, break it.”

“Trix.” Slade wanted to rush to her but the two witches took on a fighting stance.

Trixie’s voice wasn’t the only sound in that tent. “Where is it? Where is the egg?”

One witch drawled, “We...don’t t’ake the un’born.”

“Unborn?” Davenport huffed and puffed. “It was an egg.”

“Un’born is un’born. Keep the harpy. You’re lucky to have her.”

Another hag snickered. “Ain’t no harpy no more.”

There was a chorus of laughter as they shuffled out.

One of the younger witches helped guide them.

“Mother, how was it?”

The hag adjusted the blindfold and chuckled. “You’re about to see one of the most powerful beings slaughtered tonight. My only regret is not having eyes to witness it. But the Fates demand blood for such a change. Gather the rest. The fight is soon.” The hag caught her daughter’s arm. “Do not trust the ones with wings. Especially the Fae.” When the woman didn’t leave, the hag asked, “What is it?”

“But....” She glanced at the tent then her mother again. “But if that’s what she is, couldn’t she heal you? Couldn’t she heal everyone here? Give you your power and your sight?”

Rotten teeth bare, the witch laughed. “Of course. But magic requires sacrifice and that price is too high. Do not allow anyone to touch that thing. This will be a glorious night—one for the history books.”

When they finally shuffled away, Davenport exited the tent looking haunted. He met eyes with Slade but said nothing as he walked on, face twisted in a scowl. The night hadn’t gone as he’d expected.

Trixie.

Slade meant to rush that tent but a commotion from where she’d just left drew her focus.

“This is business for the sovereign,” the witch warned. “Best you go to it. This one’ll keep. That won’t last for long.”

The witch still stood on guard so Slade made a hard choice and hurried to quell whatever bullshit the fairies had wrought.

Instead of the Fae, what she saw was werewolves—a sea of them.

“What in the hell...?” Slade marveled at their numbers. Screams and cheering from the center of the compound fueled her footsteps. If she were wise, she’d keep her presence a secret. Instead, however, she followed her intuition and lurched toward the cheering.

Men in kilts as far as she could see, and none interested in letting anyone pass.

The two wolves in the center of it stalked one another. Both were naked, sans their capes but despite that, Slade’d know that wolf anywhere.

Eli.

Teeth bare, Eli growled. The equally pissed wolf on the other side of the little ring made Slade curious. Its smaller size and double cape meant it was female.

She charged. Eil rose up on two legs and boxed her aside. The next strike was met with equal gentleness despite the bared teeth.

A thought occurred and Slade gasped. “Sarah.”

The female darted after him again, as did Eli who used his head to box her aside. He looked like he was play fighting.

Sarah was playing for keeps.