It's about a quarter to four in the afternoon when my eyes finally crack open. I'm disoriented for a few moments when I first wake, the comfort and luxury of the bedspread I collapsed on top of confusing my brain. I sit up faster than I should, causing instant pain and regret to wash over me. I groan, kind of like something horrible from a graveyard. Khalil pokes his head around the doorframe and then greets me.

"He lives."

"Ugh, yeah, holy shit am I sore, wow." My voice is still deep and filled with the grit of sleep.

I slowly turn on the bed and slide off. After making a quick stop in the bathroom, I make my way over and see what food was left by the two animals in the refrigerator. There are a few apples, and that's pretty much it. I walk over to the table, sit down with the apples in tow, and then start crunching on them while my brain still works on waking up.

I blink a few times finally, then look over my shoulder to see Aria standing on the same side of the room as Micah, who is starting to look tired. Bags under his eyes tell no lies.

"Hey man, if you want to rest for an hour, we won't tell."

Micah clears his throat before answering.

"This isn't the longest vigil I've done, thank you."

"Yeah alright, sure man."

I turn back to continue working on my apples and watch Khalil as he comes over and sits next to me. He shifts his weight a few times before leaning back in the seat and stretching his hands over his head.

"So, Ori, we got a plan here, or are we just winging it?"

"I'm hoping Tallulah wasn't just straight bald-faced lying to me the entire time, and I don't think she was, but who knows what these vampire sorts did to them over the last however many weeks. Two, or maybe three, weeks for them since they'd disappeared before we arrived."

"So was that a yes or a 'winging it' answer?"

I bite one of the apples, then look at it in front of my face before crunching it with purposeful noise to make Khalil wait. Once I swallow, I finally answer him.

"A little of both A and B?"

"Ah hell, it's B." Khalil moans in a whining fashion.

I continue working on the apples as we converse there at the table. Ultimately, Khalil gets me to admit that outside of using Christina for please-don't-kill-us-50-vampires protection–and I don't dare to mention that part of it to him–I don't have a plan at all.

"Well, whatever. Not the first time you've talked your way out of things, what's another one?"

"We didn't have any good options there. If we killed all the vampires back there in the forest, these guys would have already had the dogs coming–and did you see those things when we were coming in? I don't think we would have won that fight, even with you and me putting in work with what we can do."

"How come you attacked them first?"

"Well, I could tell they meant to do us harm."

"How, though? I mean, I'm glad you saw the guy because I sure as hell didn't."

I lean slowly in his direction and carefully take the black pearl and silver ring off my index finger to show him. Khalil raises his eyebrows slightly, then gives me a questioning look.

"It vibrates when people are near that mean to do me harm," I mumble, trying to keep my voice down.

"That's honestly incredible. You get that at–"

"–Yes."

He nods his head for a few moments in appreciation. I finish off the last apple and leave the three cores sitting in front of me for the time being. I stare at them as if they will give me the necessary answers.

"Hopefully, these vampires are reasonable like Cass, and the hard part will just be tracking down a Deore to open a seam from this divide to the Wilds at the same time we lead however many fey to it."

"Think they will be?"

"I don't know. That one guy, the one you almost ate last night, he was one hundred percent full of shit, but that Christina in there, she could have said some shit, but didn't and has kept her mouth closed the entire time."

Khalil was openly puzzled at what I said about Christina. But he doesn't bring it up, probably thinking he'd missed it in the ruckus.

"Yeah, alright dude. I see your point. Tallulah seemed fine with the vampires, though. That's got to count for something, right?"

"Maybe. Cass has told me some stuff about how vampires keep their people in line. And who knows what kind of mind games they've played with her this entire time."

"Like reading your mind and such?"

"More like projecting thoughts and situations in your mind's eye so you are confused and think they're your thoughts, but they're not, and you get all weird about it."

I trail off after rambling for those few seconds too long, and Khalil gives me the side eye.

"Something you wanna share with the class, Orion?"

"The first time Cass and I met, you know, at Hannah's house?"

"Yeah, I remember."

"Yeah, every so often, she was sending me thoughts of me and her, you know, together. I 'legit thought my dick was taking over my brain, man. I didn't know until later it was her doing that the whole time."

Khalil roars with laughter with absolutely no preface. The sudden howl of laughter draws both Micah's and Aria's attention for a moment before returning to the same thing: standing guard in silence.

"No waaaaay!"

"Yeah, it's tough to follow the discussion about dangerous wiretail hunting when you're suddenly thinking weird things that you're not sure are thoughts you'd ever have, and then bam. Sexiness."

He continues to laugh and laugh as I try to explain how it all went down.

"I wish I would have known that back then. Dude, what a trip."

"So, what's up with you and Lani?" I inquire, trying to change the subject from me.

"Eh, you know, sometimes stuff happens after drinking and having a good time, then you get to carrying on, and then you wake up and wonder if you messed up a good friendship."

"Oh. Oh no. You guys are kinda–"

"–Nah, we're okay. We didn't mess up anything, and it's not serious. At least I didn't get that vibe, you know, in the time after."

I nod at him since he seems uncomfortable talking about it, and I don't keep grinding at him with little questions. He looks to the side at me and gives me a little smile before relaxing back in the chair.

"Thanks for last night."

"Nah. Don't thank me for that. I told you, I got your back."

I lean over, and we fist bump, which turns into a real and genuine hug. When I lean back, I give him a little nod, and he does the same in return. He clears his throat and looks behind him at the doorway Micah is still leaning against. Then he looks back at me.

"So I had a weird thought, kind of a question earlier. Maybe you know the answer since you're the vampire whisperer now."

"No, I definitely am not."

"Well, you have talked to one the longest, even if–"

"–Don't even go there."

"Alright, alright, but you do kind of have the advantage here. Anyway, my question is: how can we see Christina's reflection? Like, I saw it when we were walking in here last night; I only noticed it because obviously I saw movement, and then I saw it was just a mirror, and it was reflecting our image–Christina's too."

"Uh, are we supposed to not see vampire's reflections?"

"Yeah man. It's a thing."

"Yeah, but is it a real thing?"

"Dude, you think all the Dracula movies got it wrong? There's like fifty of them!"

"Have you watched fifty Dracula movies, Khalil?" I respond flatly.

"Well no, but that's not the point. My point is, why is that some bullshit? Out of everything they could have lied about, how come that? I don't even know if a stake to the heart is real now. Stupid pop culture."

"Well, man, I don't know. Maybe you'll have to take a seam to Vampireville and find it out."

"Transylvania, Dude."

"That's not even a real place, stop."

"Swear on the Wilds it is."

"Man, stop, it is not. And why in the fuck would you know that it is, anyway?"

"Because I do know some things, especially when they interest me," Khalil adds, inexplicably serious. He rapidly returns right back to normal-Khalil when he keeps talking. "I bet if we ask Micah, he'll back me up one hundred percent."

At the same time, we both look at Micah and then spitfire at him with the same question.

"Micah, is Transylvania a real place?"

He looks over at the both of us, his eyes narrowing slightly as if he's trying to determine if we're fucking with him. With both of us staring at him earnestly, he must decide we're actually asking him.

"It used to be. I think it was where the Romania and Hungary countries are now. And no, they didn't come from there."

Khalil looks back at me with an "I told you so" look, and I just shake my head.

We essentially waste time, each of us doing things to occupy ourselves while the minutes tick by in the daytime and draw us ever closer to dusk. Finally, there's a tap on the door behind Micah, and he startles, shuffles, and then quickly moves from in front of the door. I stretch my wounded shoulder carefully as I stand up from where I'd relaxed on the couch. Christina steps out of the room and looks over the assortment of us there, looking at her.

"Good evening." She murmurs.

"Hey, lady." Khalil starts. I already know where this is going.

"Don't do it, Khalil."

"Dude chill, I have got to know."

Christina looks between us warily, as if she's expecting something so much worse than the idiocy of what he's about to say.

"How come we can see your reflection in that mirror?" Khalil points towards the bathroom mirror.

Christina walks over to peer around the corner at it before she looks back at Khalil. Her lips twitch slightly, her mastery of facial expression seeming to crack for a moment at the absolute absurdity of his random question being the first thing she hears in the night.

"Ah, because that is a modern mirror."

"So what, you don't show in old-timey mirrors or something?"

"No, we don't."

"HA! YEAH! Piss off, Ori! Fucking knew it."

I roll my eyes in the most exaggerated manner I can. Khalil looks back at Christina then and suspiciously adds in a follow-up question.

"What's the difference between them?"

"Old mirrors used silver. Most mirrors made now are created with aluminum."

"So you guys hate silver or something?"

"No."

After that clipped answer, Khalil and I realized she was done answering his questions, and I walked over and got my backpack from the ground.

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"Alright then, where are we going to meet whoever we're supposed to meet tonight."

Micah clears his throat, and Christina doesn't look like she planned on attempting to answer anyway, so he answers me.

"You'll be invited to a certain location when the house is ready to see you. I wouldn't expect it for at least another couple of hours."

I grunt, then set my pack back on the ground next to me before sliding down to sit back on the couch. Everyone seems to take up a quiet period, and I use my time to carefully page through a small book on the coffee table in front of me. Christina only gazes at me once, and it's with some degree of curiosity while I read as if she somehow didn't expect me to be able to. When I raise my eyes to look back at her, she surprisingly turns her head away and breaks eye contact first. I still see the splatters of my dried blood on her forehead, but I don’t say anything about it.

Finally, with enough time having passed, about two and a half hours after Christina had first exited the side room, there was a knock on the cottage door. Khalil walks over, and I follow him, which causes the silent Aria to move as well. The guard standing there clearly didn't expect three people to be in the doorway when it opens, so he stammers for a moment before informing us that we would be escorted to meet the house now.

The three of us grab our packs and put them over our backs, and I carefully arrange my shoulder straps so the pressure isn't directly on where the nurse applied the suture kit on my wound. I don't bother to take the compound bow out of its slot nor give them a chance to suggest I shouldn't bring it with me. Instead, I stride out the door, confidently leading the procession behind our armed escort.

Khalil openly marvels at the landscaping and buildings on the property we're led past. I take steals of glances occasionally while also trying to keep a close eye on our surroundings. Aria is as serious and silent as ever–a terribly unassuming presence right now for a faerie so dangerous. We're brought around to the front of the house and then led up through the front doors. All of the glitz and glamor (and amount of guards) being purposefully displayed to us is, admittedly, a bit impressive.

There are security systems, too, I note. I don't know enough about modern electronics to know much more than what they show in movies, which I catch every so often when out here in the human divide.

We're brought up a sweeping staircase and then down an opulent hallway, which leads to a set of massive carved doors that cause us all to look upwards at them. I denote the wilderness and its beautiful carvings of animals, and I nod appreciatively of the artistic craftsmanship on display. Micah turns and looks at Christina before dipping his head and moving out of the way. Two guards take a long look at us. My backpack–with a compound bow sticking out of the top of a slot–gains me the most attention, but I don't even act like I'm going to offer to remove it. Finally, the staring contest ends, and they simultaneously push open both gargantuan doors so the four of us can walk inside.

I'm stunned even at the elegance and wealth on display in the round ballroom, and my eyes flit here and there, trying to take in the details of the room and see who is standing where. The three of us carefully spread out a few feet away from each other as we move further into the room. Along the side, I take note of the only furniture in the room. Three chairs are set back about ten feet from an elegant, ornate, and beautiful bear sigil on the floor. I see Khalil staring at it appreciatively, but I clear my throat, and he takes the hint, getting himself back into awareness mode. I've no doubt that Khalil is feeling particularly underdressed with his black tank top and jeans, because I certainly do with my black shirt, jeans and boots. Aria, I suspect, quite literally could not give less of a shit.

There are guards placed about every ten feet along the circular ballroom's walls, and a host of other well-dressed individuals are littered about. Some of them have glasses of red liquid in their hands, others don't. All of them stare directly at us, including the three vampires sitting in those chairs. I've never felt so uncomfortable and unsafe in all of my life. Unsurprisingly, there is a very faint and dull vibration from my silver ring.

"Good evening, gentlemen–and lady. Welcome to our home. Please come in and put yourself at ease."

The voice is soft but smooth. It's a southern accent of the old variety, not one of the modern ones you hear in rap songs. I focus on it while we move inside a hair closer but stop about ten feet to the opposite side of the bear sigil on the floor. My eyes look over the man who spoke, taking note of his long mustache and trimmed goatee, as well as the piercing green eyes that almost look like they're staring directly into my soul. I exhale, and I'm the one to break the ice by speaking.

"Hello. My name is Orion, this is Khalil, and that is Aria. You have a lovely home."

"Thank you for the kind compliment, Mister Orion." He adds more weight onto the word 'mister' than most of the other people who have said it have used, which comes across as strange to me–or maybe antiquated.

"My name is Percival de Burgh; to my left is Kofi Freeman, and to my right is Selena Conghal."

The other two vampires don't move except to incline their heads when introduced. I catch a glimpse of Tallulah standing not far from them and spy Christina slowly making her way along the wall and in Tallulah's direction. However, my attention doesn't stray long, and I focus back on the speaker.

"We've been told that we had a bit of a little dust-up last evening between yourselves and some of my house. Miss Christina Freeman and Mister Vincent de Burgh being the only survivors."

Internally, I horror-scream at the two surnames, thinking maybe this is so much worse than I initially imagined. Outwardly, I nod my head in response, cool as a cucumber.

"We were not intending to cause violence, but it did happen."

"Not intending to cause violence? That's quite interesting. We were led to believe that you–the archer–started the entire event by placing two arrows into Mister Vincent de Burgh without provocation."

"We had information that told us violence was about to be inflicted on us, and I acted accordingly."

The words come out of me before I almost know what I'm saying. Khalil was right; I have a habit of being able to talk us out of problems. I'm just not confident enough now to think this is one of those problems I can talk my way out of.

"And what was this information? What was the source of it?"

"No offense, but I'm not going to answer that. You'll have to chalk it up to faerie abilities. I am sorry that the nonsense took place and that lives were lost. We were only looking for our people who disappeared from our–er, lands–and followed the trail here."

"And yet, you were the one who invoked the name of your patron and her maker."

"I did. I wanted to stop the violence. You can ask Christina. There was about to be more violence."

"We don't need to do that; we have already been given a vivid retelling in excellent detail. Mister Rhys Vernon was slain after you made a note of your patron."

"Well, that is true, but only after he attempted to trick us into being mauled by a host of your dogs. Among other things."

My eyes shift to the dark-skinned man that Tallulah and Christina are standing the closest to. He seems like a statue carved from ebony and accidentally marred by a chisel from scars leading down his face from his chin and throat. After that, I gaze at the woman, whose dark eyes are directly on Khalil beside me. She's much too beautiful, and seeing her so heavily focused on Khalil makes me uncomfortable. I shift my weight, my pale eyes settling back on the piercing green ones of the southern gentleman.

"Supposing that were true. How do you suggest we come to a tolerable conclusion to this problem?"

My mind whirls and twists on itself while I try to think of something reasonable–anything at all. Finally, I sigh and reply.

"I was told to be truthful when dealing with you, so, I have got no fucking idea."

My answer causes a stir in the room; there's tittering and chuckling, and there are pockets of laughter from the audience that seems to be gathered just to eyeball the oddities–us. The man waits for the noise to die before he offers me the most appealing smile I've ever seen in my life–also, the most fake and dangerous one. Aria seems to recognize it, too, because she takes an open half-step in my direction.

"Well, at least he isn't lying in a room full of vampires."

That does cause laughter to ripple throughout the room. I don't catch the joke or why it's funny, but I look around slowly and wait for it to end. When it does end, it's not the man who speaks up, but it's Tallulah, and she moves away from the wall to do it.

"Arguably, one could say there was a misunderstanding last night, where two of your people were killed. Much like the misunderstanding the first night we were brought here in which four of my village people were killed."

My mouth makes a little bit of an "o" on my face, and now I understand why she was so conflicted last night. My eyes gaze at her, and I can see that conflict remains, but she's seemingly steeled herself to tell us the truth. Percival finally turns his head and focuses on Tallulah. I see the faintest grind of his teeth with his jaw tensing, so I know that she really, really made him irritated by saying what she said.

"This could get ugly," I murmur to Aria and Khalil, both in fey speech. They don't seem to react, but that's only because they have a perfectly fine read on the room, like I do.

The speech in a different language draws Percival's attention again, and he turns his head back to face me. It's almost like watching a stone statue move; no other parts of his body even adjust their weight, and his head turns on a flat plain.

"We would appreciate it if you spoke in a language that we all can understand, and we will show the same courtesy to you."

"Sure. So, do we need to talk about how four faeries were killed to your two vampires? I don't know the whole, you know, method to handle murders between supernaturals."

While speaking, I waved my hands back and forth in front of me like I was weighing apples and oranges.

"Out of respect for your patron's maker, we will not be insulted by the insinuation that they are comparable in value."

"Excuse me, but what the fuck? 'Comparable in value'? Are you saying that my people are less valuable than yours? Surely you didn't just say that."

"Careful, boy." His tone is clipped; he is absolutely not used to being talked to like I just did.

Aria steps in front of me, half shielding my body with hers, her ever-dark eyes staring straight ahead at Percival like she wasn't intimidated by him or the room full of vampires.

"Ah, and this must be the faerie shapeshifter. Prone to violence, are you?"

"No, but I do not fear it, unlike some." Aria's tone is flat, lifeless. Dangerous.

Silence permeates the room for a good fifteen seconds as Aria holds his gaze. Kofi starts to stand, but the man moves in a split-second and sets a hand on Kofi's knuckles to halt his forward progression. Staring daggers at Aria's disrespect for holding that gaze with the centermost vampire, Kofi returns to his seat, prompted by Percival's one-touch order. I try to calm down the heat of the situation and speak up again.

"I think we're getting a little wound up here. Let's, you know, take this down a few notches on the jalapeño spicy scale. All we want to do is help the fey who want to return to their village. That's it. Tallulah mentioned some fey might want to stay here with your house–it's their free choice to do that. We're not here to interrupt your night-to-night vampire business more than already has happened."

"Very well, we will assist in this endeavor."

"You will?" Khalil says for the first thing he's said in a while, the shock in his voice matching the voice in my head.

"Yes, but in return, we will require three bottles of blood from each of you."

"No."

Aria immediately responds before I even have a chance to process the trade request. Khalil looks over at her, but then he stands up straighter as if he will back her up no matter what. I look between the two, the discussion momentarily out of my hands.

"We believe it is a small price to pay."

"The answer is no." Aria continues to answer flatly.

"Do you believe that we should foot, for free, all of the costs–of which were quite significant–for caretaking your sick or injured people, feeding them, clothing them, making sure they are safe, while also seeking out your kind so that they can be returned to where they came from?"

"No, we didn't suggest that." I pipe back up, trying to retake control of the discussion.

"But three bottles of blood is too high of a cost?"

"Yes," Aria interjects again.

"One sec'. You mind us huddling up to get on the same page?" I exhale exasperatedly, trying to sound serious but privately wanting just to speak my mind, profanities included.

"We will allow it."

I resist the urge to roll my eyes at the phrasing Percival gives. I turn and face mostly away from the three older vampires. Khalil shuffles over next to me, and even Aria turns slightly, but mostly she just steps back a few steps so she's still facing the three vampires at the same time as Khalil and I.

Immediately, I start talking in faerie speak, as a low murmur.

"Okay, what are we doing here, guys? Three bottles of blood to help thirty or forty fey? Come on. Be realistic, Aria."

"I kinda agree with Orion here. Three bottles of blood don't seem that steep of a price, especially if we do a bottle a day or something." Khalil adds.

"It is not about the blood."

"Okay, if it's not about blood, what's it about?" I sigh slightly.

"They do not deserve to be rewarded for ending the lives of fey. We are representatives of a whole people. We need to act as such. They should be at least somewhat afraid to cross us."

While we have our little group chat, only Aria sees that Tallulah has been gestured over next to Kofi. There seems to be some discussion that is too soft for us to overhear.

"It's not really a reward, though. Aria, if it pays for our people's safety, we should do it."

"I have an idea," Khalil adds, a little more enthusiastically than the conversation calls for.

Both Aria and I look at Khalil. Aria only watches him briefly, whereas I look at him to see what he says. After the brief pause, Khalil continues our discussion in fey-speech.

"I'll give them the three bottles of blood, and you guys give them one each."

"They're not going to go for that random change, Khalil."

"Yeah, they will."

"How do you know that?"

"Well, look at all this bear nonsense they have here. They literally have a bear made of, like, gold and rubies and whatever on the floor five feet from us. I'll say some stuff and then offer my blood; they'll probably deny it, but then I'll point out I can be a bear. They like bears."

I squint my eyes at Khalil, trying to decide if he's being an idiot again or if this is some kind of idiotic-genius idea.

"I do not like the idea of us sharing any of our blood, but I will accept this compromise if they do," Aria mutters.

"Come on, Ori, it's a good plan, mostly. I don't see you shooting out ideas."

Kofi seems openly disgusted by whatever the conversation turned out to be between him and Tallulah. He turns his head away from her and returns to staring at the three of us while we confer in a tight circle. Aria already looks that way, so she fixes him with a black-eyed, emotionless stare. The smooth-skinned beauty gestures a hand at Tallulah, and she quickly moves over to listen to whatever Selena has to say by half-leaning down and turning her head to the side. They share a few words, but then Tallulah steps back a few paces. She's now to the side of Selena, standing passively.

"Alright, fine. Fuck it, Khalil, let's try it."

Khalil claps his hands together softly, in a "let's go" sort of way, as if we were literally breaking a huddle in sports. His face takes on a determined expression, and the three of us part away, moving more or less back into our previous standing spots. The well-groomed southern gentleman, Percival, continues to fix us with his piercing, pale green-eyed gaze. He might not have shifted his gaze from us the entire time. I note he doesn't blink even once, and the tidbit of conversation on vampiric eye-blinking that I had with Cassandra flitters across my mind's eye.

"It would appear that you have reached some sort of agreement amongst yourselves?" Percival intones, and the low murmurs from around the ballroom come to an end once again.

Khalil clears his throat slightly, a faint flush appears on his features. Public speaking was never his forte, and I regret not speaking on his behalf for a moment. I don't interrupt him, though, and just let it play out.

"I'll give you three bottles of blood, and uh, they'll give you one each."

"What an odd offer when our previous offer was quite generous."

"It had some problems with it."

"Mister Khalil, was it?"

"Yeah."

"And your 'offer' does not have a problem with it?"

"My blood's probably a bit more valuable to you than theirs is."

"Oh, is that so?"

Percival raises his tone slightly–it's almost amused, but then I realize it's much closer to mocking than amusement. My bruised brow furrows with some degree of displeasure. I don't like anyone mocking my friend. Khalil either doesn't realize he's being mocked or miraculously isn't rising to the bait.

"Yeah, that's so."

"And how, pray-tell, is your blood more valuable to us than theirs?"

"We're faeries, but the difference is I'm closer to a bear than the whole lot of you, and hey, I might have noticed a couple of bear icons around here. You know, here and there."

Khalil gestures at the flooring inlay just in front of us, then points out the bear carvings on the pillars scattered around before gesturing at the massive doors that lead into this ballroom. Percival openly laughs when Khalil stops gesturing at bear motifs. It's an unkind laugh, and a couple of accompanying laughs pop up from here and there in the ballroom, like a peanut gallery.

"And you suppose that because you can pretend to be a bear, you have more worth to us than the other two? How amusing."

Finally, I'm irritated enough with his mocking of Khalil to interject.

"It's a solid offer, man. You get almost everything you've asked for, and we get what we're looking to get. Then we go our separate ways, and everyone pretends this didn't happen."

The man stands up from his seat, the rustling of fabric the only actual sound that denotes the movement.

"Are you making a deal with our house on behalf of your patron?"

"What?"

"Well, are you?"

"No? This is a deal between us, fey, and you, vampires. I don't see how it relates to anybody else."

"I see that our time has been wasted tonight. Come, let us retire."