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Blood dripped everywhere as two werewolves hefted Eli into the open tent. Franklin cleared the table and instructed them to hoist him up.

Two more werewolves dragged in a struggling Sarah, covered only to mid-thigh by her capes.

“Let me go,” she cried. “He had it coming.”

Slade continued to press what remained of Eli’s cape against his throat. “Throw her in chains. We don’t have time for this. Emphasis on the throw.”

“No,” Eli gasped. The blood came faster. “She’s pregnant.”

For one week, Slade had not heard from Legion. She blamed that thing now for why she lost time and only regained it when Franklin screamed at her, “Vampire. Didn’t you hear me!”

Blinking, Slade looked down. She’d dropped Eli’s cape.

Pregnant. Sarah was pregnant.

Imaginings of Slade ramming her finger into that wolf bite and yanking it open further with her bare hands came and went.

When Slade regained her composure, she told Franklin. “Take her out of here. Gently. And gather the witches. They’re the closest thing we’ve got to healers.”

Several werewolves nodded. Slade prayed the witches were useful. Other than Trixie, there was no one who might have that power.

Half an hour later saw Slade staring down at her bloodied hands.

“She’s pregnant,” played in her head on a loop.

It was there when the witches snickered and informed her that although a female’s bite was smaller, it was life-threatening.

“She’s pregnant.”

That thought was there when the young witches asked to force Eli to shift out of wolf form.

Pregnant.

And it was there when one witch finally said, “I’ve done the best I can but he’s going to die if you don’t find a better healer.”

Pregnant.

Slade pulled her eyes from Eli’s ragged frame. They’d found a blanket to put over him but little else.

“Trixie.” The word came in a gasp.

“The harpy?’ the young witch asked.

Her mother cackled, “A harpy no more.”

“She’s the only one with enough runes to save him.” Slade hesitated. “But...but I want to go alone.”

A row of rotten teeth greeted her when the witch scoffed. “He’s got two bodies. What is that? 400lbs? How you going to move him exactly? Or should I bring her here?”

“No. Definitely no.” Two werewolves still remained and Slade instructed them to heft up the body.

The sheet dangled as they followed after her. Upon reaching that tent entrance, Slade called out, “Trix. Is that you? Trix, I’ve come with Eli. Could I...could I maybe come in?”

Nothing. No response. No matter; they couldn’t wait.

“Put him on the floor inside quickly and see yourselves out. No matter what you see in there. Have I made myself clear?”

It was a chorus of, “Yes, Sovereign.”

“She is not the sovereign of us and that is my son,” Franklin bellowed. “I will see to it he has a healer.”

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

Five minutes later with no other prospects, Eli lay on the ground and the last of two werewolves’ kilts disappeared outside the tent flap.

Before Franklin could step in, the witches blocked his path. “No. This is for her to do. And her alone,” one witch said.

Another agreed, “Yes. As this is her doing, she must undo it.”

“Get the hell outta my way, hags!” Franklin demanded.

While a commotion started outside, the atmosphere inside the tent was serene and solemn.

“Trix?”

What was left of the harpy’s wings resembled gnawed off bones jutting from her back. Trix sat turned away from her, naked and uncaring, her knees to her chest as she rocked.

Slade wanted to inquire about her well-being. Eli’s situation wouldn’t allow it.

“Trix. It’s Eli. I need to heal him. How can I heal him? Can you help?”

Body still bent, Trixie continued to rock forward and back. This wasn’t uncommon for her.

“Where’s Manny? You’ve allowed them to steal me from him.”

Her hoarse voice pained Slade even now. “It’s Eli,” she corrected. “And he’s...it’s not good. Can you help him?”

There was a glow—a shine to Trixie that made it easy for the eyes to follow no matter how dark the tent was.

“Where’s Manny? Will you bring me back to Manny?”

Manny was no good for her.

“I will. Sure, I can do that,” she lied. “I will do it. But Eli—”

“Screw Eli. What about what you’ve promised me! You’ve promised me friendship. I follow you; you respect me. You’ve taken me from Manos. How is that respectful?”

What little was left of her thinning hair whisked with her motion. “Bring me back to Manny. I want Manny.”

Slade paced herself.

“Of—of course, I will promise—”

‘Then promise.”

“Of course I will—I do. I do promise.”

“When?”

“But Eli—”

“When? When will you bring me back to him? Did he ask for you to take me away? Is he coming? Is he not coming for me?”

It was unlikely. It was beyond unlikely. Maybe he needed her for her ability to talk to Legion but now that they were separated, he was likely to abandon her and cut his losses.

This was going nowhere fast. “Trixie, Eli, he’s—he’s hurt.”

“Because his girlfriend is pregnant and fed up. Yes. I know already. But I’m asking you about Manny. What of him? Did he ask you to take me away?”

Slade calmed enough to play her game. “If you can see it all, then you can see that.”

Trixie turned her face to the wall, her voice muffled. “Powers have changed. Can only see backwards when someone’s around. This rune’s corrupt.”

Eli coughed but it was weak.

Slade stifled a gasp. “Trix, please. Eli came back for you.”

“He wanted nothing to do with me. In fact, he was going to abandon me and take you away. Why should I help him?”

“No. He wouldn’t do that.”

“I can see it,” she insisted. “Are you calling me a liar? The only liar is you because you keep breaking your promises. You don’t care about me.”

Between the bouts of anger and the tears, Slade preferred the anger. This sudden crying was something else.

“Please. Help him,” Slade begged.

“And what if I do? Will you bring Manny here? Will you allow him to come here?”

Here? Allow? He was the sovereign; he could go wherever he wanted at this power level. The fact that he hadn’t come after her on his own was already telling.

“You are not a good friend,” Trixie said.

Big talk from someone allowing a man to die at her feet.

Slade closed her eyes and asked, “Can you help Ei?”

“Of course I can help Eli. It’s not hard.” She turned to peer at Slade through two wide purple orbs. “But if you want him alive, you’ll bring Manny here. Swear it? Swear it on Eli.”

Slade’s lips parted in awe. “What? You’d put his life as payment?” she marveled.

The silence meant just that. Trixie was serious.

Eli’s hand in her grip was weak and frail.

At first hellbent on refusing, Slade nodded and conceded defeat.

She opened her mouth to agree but Eli used the little strength he had left to squeeze her hand. “Tail,” he gasped. “Tail.”

Tail?

But what could this dying werewolf see that a vampire couldn’t? Swallowing hard, Slade blinked three times but saw nothing strange.

There was no tail. There was nothing. Harpies had tails. Even without feathers, there should be some remnants of it.

“He’s dying,” Trixie growled. “Will you give me what I want?”

As authentic as that voice was—those words were, Slade looked into Eli’s dimming eyes and took a leap of faith.

She trembled when she said. “No. I will promise you nothing.”

Trixie tensed. “What?”

“Nothing. My friend would never put demands on me. You’re not Trixie.”

The graying body before her contorted and flexed. Whatever it was crawled on four legs until its sharp teeth brushed Slade’s cheek. Being a creature with hypnosis, Slade knew better than to look at it head on.

“What I am, is impatient.”

Slade stared through it. “Davenport. I don’t know what you are, or how to kill you yet, but I’m through with your games. If you can heal him, you heal him. If not, go to hell.”

Nothing happened for some time. When the flap of the tent opened and the harpy walked in less than pleased, Slade felt insignificant in this creature’s presence.

“Begone,” Davenport commanded. The creature shrunk down and scampered away. He let out a sigh and stared down at Eli. “I cannot heal him. But that promise could have.”

Eli’s grip loosened from his weakened state and Slade felt numb. Till now, she’d never truly faced the idea of an existence without him. She forced herself to meet the bastard Davenport’s gaze.

“You want the egg this badly?”

Davenport worried his lips then confessed, “Enough to turn this world upside down to get it.”

“Then do it,” Slade challenged. “Turn the world upside down then.”

Her words wiped all amicability in his voice away. “You do not want me as an enemy.”

“I do not want you as a friend either.”

This was a bluff. She prayed this thing needed Eli alive as much as she thought he did.

“It’s a one-way trip,” he warned. “And on the other side, you and I will clash.”

“Leave me here now,” Slade promised, “and we are clashing regardless.”

With a kiss of his teeth, Davenport turned his head and raised his fingers. “I warned you.”

A snap sent the world into a white haze that faded on the steps of the mansion.