Adelade

My whole body ached. The light of the sun had past diminished in the sky and I longed for my bed.

“Again.”

I frowned at Landon, but thrust my fist forward managing to catch him in the stomach.

“Ooof.” His breath came out in a puff and he leaned forward, struggling to take in a breath. Then he looked back up at me and I was unable to hide my grin in time. I straightened my lips, trying to appear contrite.

“Fine, you’re done for the day.”

My grin escaped again, but I leaned over him. “Are you okay?”

He took a step backwards and attempted to elbow me in the stomach, but I was too quick for him and his elbow sliced through the air. He would’ve given me quite the blow if I hadn’t moved. Using his momentum, I pushed him forward and he fell to the floor.

His laughter rang through the warehouse and he held his hands up in resignation. “You’re finished, okay? Just don’t hit me again.”

I grinned and held out my hand to offer my assistance. He pulled himself up and clasped me in a friendly hug. “Go home and fix me some food woman.”

I clicked my tongue. “I cooked last night, it’s your turn.”

He sighed. “I still have to finish up here.” He slid his eyes away from my raised eyebrow and I knew that he would be meeting Stefano tonight. I admired him for his ability to walk the knife’s edge, even if I couldn’t understand it, and went for my coat.

“If you’re caught, Detrand will kill you.”

He shrugged, not answering, and I accepted his response. From the moment the strigoi killed his father, Landon believed that his life would always be affected by the event. He knew at any moment that his own life could be ripped from him, but he was determined to provide safety for his family while he could.

Still hot and sweaty from our training, I folded my coat around my arm. “I’ll take the long way home then, and I’ll expect food on the stove when I enter.”

He smiled. “The shifters have been keeping Stefano busy, so I shouldn’t be here too long.”

I nodded and, after waving farewell, left him.

I kept to the walkway by the water and let the feel of the bay settle into my bones; it weighed on me heavily. The past few days, the feeling of desperation and despondency permeated the streets and I wondered if whatever Raisa had done to me had only now allowed me to feel it, or if the city itself was changing. I also constantly felt eyes on me, as if some magical being always knew where I would be and managed to watch me unseen when I was alone.

A breeze caught my hair, pulling strands loose from my bindings and I pulled it out, loving the way it waved around my face. I pulled my coat back on, touching the knife in my pocket and eyed my surroundings carefully. After noting nothing out of place, I took in a deep breath and determined to enjoy my walk home. So I forced my lips up in a smile and turned east, heading towards the path through the city that took me the long way home.

As I walked the city streets, I heard a group of shouts and I froze in place. The sounds were angry, maybe even a little bit desperate. Down the road, a group of men converged in a tight circle and I pushed forward quickly and silently towards the dark part of the street so I could observe them unseen.

They stared at something in the middle of the circle and I crouched down, pressing my back against a store wall to gain a better view. Within the circle, lay one of the street rats who’d accosted me the day my father died.

I gasped, then clasped my hand to my lips to cover the sound, but I needn’t worry. The blaring sounds of the men echoed through the street and I stared in wonder that no one left their homes to investigate the noise.

As silent as death, I slowly crept closer and gripped my hand on my knife in my pocket, preparing for anything. A man was in the center of the circle towering over the street rat. I’d never seen the man in this city before, as well as many of the men in his circle. His black hair was slicked back and blended into his dark beard, giving him a dark look. His hands were held loosely by his side but I knew that even though he appeared casual, he was anything but.

The group had grown quiet now except for the man at the center. His voice was muted and I couldn’t determine what he was saying but the sound of the responding ruffian’s plea tore through my heart. His hands were held in front of his face in a defensive posture and I saw the evil intent of the man over him just before he drew his knife and stabbed it into the ruffian on the ground. Blood sprayed into the air, dusting the men a dark crimson, and then they were kicking and stabbing at the ruffian.

My mouth dropped open and my blood drained to my feet. I froze in indecision, for every part of me wanted to run into the fray to rescue the street rat but I knew that I would be no match for such a large group of men. Then I fell on my rear as I stared in shock at the flagrant display of violence, here in the middle of the street. Not a soul opened their door or peeked through their curtains; the people were afraid.

It wasn’t just me; the city had changed. A wave of anger washed over me and I allowed it, pressing it into every part of my body.

It was over quickly and the men began to run off into the night, leaving only their leader and one other scrawny person who stared at the body in shock. He held a knife in his hand but he’d been too scared to use it as evidenced by the stain at his crotch. He had red hair and I recognized him as the street rat’s friend.

The bearded man leaned over and put his hand on the red-haired young man’s shoulder and squeezed it tight, while shaking his finger in his face. His finger shook as his voice grew louder, thoroughly berating the red-haired man. My rage overcame my every thought and I leapt to my feet.

This man stood over the dead ruffian with no thought of contrition or worry of getting caught.

He thought he was invincible.

I would teach him differently.

I’d worked with Detrand enough to learn how to move silently and swiftly and so I mirrored Detrand’s movements as I crept towards the man.

I was only a few steps away when the red-haired ruffian noticed me and his eyes widened at my approach. Noticing his behavior, the man whirled around but he was too late. I threw my fist into the man’s face and then kicked at his knees. He fell to the ground, landing in the puddle of blood. He wiped at his mouth where I’d landed my blow; it was bleeding.

I stood over him, my hands shaking in rage. “You’ll pay for what you’ve done to him.”

The man sneered at me, unconcerned. “I don’t think so.” He eyed my clothing. “Are you a girl or a boy? You wear pants like a boy but your tits look good enough to eat.” His teeth were yellow and I wanted to punch every single one of them out.

Suddenly the red-haired ruffian was in front of me, his knife held towards me. “Touch Ferran again and I’ll cut your eye out.”

My mouth dropped open and Ferran smiled at me from the ground.

I took a step back. “But your friend…”

“He weren’t my friend. And he stole from Ferran. Nobody does that without payin.”

Ferran stood up and I pulled out my knife, holding it towards him. Suddenly, Ferran surged towards me but I took a step back and he swung forward, missing me. After stumbling forward, he straightened and brushed at his clothes, his face red. Then he looked at the ruffian on the ground, his expression impassive, and I gripped my knife tighter and took a step towards him.

“The punishment for stealing isn’t death. You should be imprisoned for what you did to him.”

I noticed a movement to the side of me, realizing that some of the men were returning and I took a step back, unwilling to let them approach me from behind. The red-haired man stepped towards me, a snarl on his face and I side-stepped him so that there was plenty of space in between us.

Ferran wiped at his lip again and then put his arm on the red-haired man’s shoulder, who jerked at the touch. Ferran’s face was dark, his eyes as cold as steel as they studied me, then his lips twisted up as he leered at me.

“Let her be, Billy. I’m sure this young—” his eyes went to my chest, “woman is overcome with exhaustion and emotion and doesn’t realize what she’s doing.” He laughed. “Women are too stupid when it comes to their emotions.” Suddenly, his laughter stopped and his eyes bore into me. “I’m sure as soon as she gets some rest, she’ll realize that this isn’t what it looks like.”

His men began to draw closer and I knew that I had to leave in a hurry or I would be overcome quickly. I wanted to stab him in the gut, as he had done to this man at my feet, but I knew he was giving me an out. I saw a movement to my left and fear gripped at my chest. There were three men on my right and two others on my left, combined with the red-haired man and Ferran.

I took two steps back and then turned and fled from the scene.

* * *

I raced through the back streets deep into the night until I was certain that no one was following me, and then I slowly made my way home. When I entered through the door, the smell of cooking soup permeated the air. Landon stood over the stove and he turned towards me. “Stefano didn’t return to the warehouse tonight, so I was able to cook a new recipe.” He held a spoon towards me. “Taste it.”

The smell was too much; I felt sick. I clasped my hand over my mouth and immediately turned back out the door and into the street.

My stomach was mostly empty but any food that remained landed in the street.

Landon stepped outside. “I didn’t realize that my cooking smelled that horrible…”

I sat shaking on the edge of the stairs to my home, trying not to recall the bloody pulp of the ruffian in the street. But I failed and soon my mind was replaying the motion of the knife as it entered his gut over and over. I fell to my hands and knees again as clear fluids drained out of my mouth.

Then Landon's arms wrapped around my waist and pulled me to his arms. He placed a cool wet cloth on my forehead and laid my head against his chest. I listened to his breathing, using his steadying breath as a way to soothe my anxiety and just as I began to feel a calm reassurance, the anxiety bubbled back up into my chest and a sob broke out of me.

I cried for a moment, wishing that Detrand hadn’t put me aside for certainly he would enact a rigorous justice on Ferran. But he had; Detrand was mine no longer to claim and I no longer wanted to claim him. He’d betrayed me by laying with Sophie and, regardless of the reasons, I was determined to move on with my life.

I was done crying over him.

And so, as I lay in Landon’s tight embrace, my thoughts darkened and I determined that I would discover Ferran myself and make him pay for the evil that he brought to my town.

* * *

The next evening, I clung to the shadows of the wall across from the town’s largest bar, using my newly acquired hat to hide my long hair. My clothes were nondescript and I attempted to blend into the wall.

The shop next to the bar had been newly rented and I studied the men and women who came and went from it, hoping to catch a glimpse of Ferran.

After telling Landon that I’d caught a sickness, I’d gone straight to bed and attempted to sleep, but ideas of how exactly to gain information on Ferran took hold of my mind until finally I fell into a restless sleep. After I awoke and ate a hearty breakfast, I immediately went to the docks in search of information. Sweet talking the day manager who worked there, I managed to gather enough information to discover that Ferran had arrived several months ago and had set up shop at this location.

A sweet smell drifted from the shop and I could see many languishing on sofas and on the floor in a lazy sort of way. Their eyelids were hooded and some even slept. I wondered if this was the opium den I’d heard talked about in the streets.

As I waited for Ferran, my mind constantly drifted back to Detrand and Lula, but I knew that I must force them from my mind in order to continue to live my life. A tear sparked in my eyes at the thought that I would never see Lula again for she had been dear to me and had helped me with my transition into Detrand’s home. But now when I thought of Detrand, my body only responded with a slow burn in my stomach.

The wind blew through the street and a cold wrapped around my body. I moved my hands over my arms, trying to warm them when I saw Ferran approaching. I instantly forgot about the cold and pressed against the back wall, attempting to be an invisible as possible.

There were two other men with him that I didn't recognize. They walked with large steps and muscular arms that gave them an intimidating stance. Then I saw the red-haired man following behind him. Billy. He was scrawny and a small thing next to the other men and his face held a combination of scorn and fear.

No matter where I went, there had been no word of any recent deaths, and the news infuriated me. I narrowed my eyes, watching them carefully as they strode inside the shop.

Determined to get a look inside, I studied the fence surrounding it, looking for a broken board to slip through. For a shabby shop, the fence around it was in an admirable condition. It also had a gate, secured with a lock.

If I tried to climb over the fence, I could easily be seen.

I studied the shop next to it, which wasn’t in much better condition. It had a heavily worn shed that leaned so heavily to the side that it pressed against the shop. I turned away and, trying to move as quickly as possible without drawing attention to myself, moved up the street and then scurried across it. No one paid me any attention. I moved slowly back down the street to the adjoining shop. Being as quiet as possible, I used the window to pull myself onto the roof of the shed and jumped across to the roof of the adjoining home. From this vantage point, I was less exposed to prying eyes and could see directly into the shop.

Inside it, I saw the Father from the church and he was arguing with Ferran.

* * *

They stood next to the open window and due to the open space from my position on the roof, I could hear their argument. I crouched as low as possible to avoid being seen.

They were in a side room and the priest had his back to me and he moved about angrily. “If you’ve had something to do with this, God will strike you down, and I’ll not say a prayer for your soul.”

Ferran laughed, his face twisted in glee. “The people will come to know the truth about our world and that knowledge will only make me more powerful. Then Bane will rule this town and there will be nothing that you can do, except to say a prayer for the souls of the townsmen.”

The priest growled and he moved so that I could see his profile; I’d never seen him so angry before. “I’ve stood by for far too long. The people are watching, and they will come for you. The death of the boy was too much. They tell me—”

“They tell you?” Ferran stepped close to the priest, his eyes blazing. “Who tells you?”

The priest turned pale and even though Ferran was inches from his face, he didn’t step back. “If you continue your ways, my message of peace will fall on deaf ears. They will not accept much more.”

Ferran sniffed his nose. “They speak of disobedience? To revolt against me?” He put his hand on the back of the priest’s neck, pulling him closer. “Who is it that whispers in your ear of rebellion? Is it the girl?”

The priest shoved him away and Ferran stumbled back. He rushed forward again, pointing his finger in the priest’s face. “Do that again and I’ll kill you.”

The priest stared him down boldly, but didn’t answer. Ferran took a step back and studied him, stroking his beard. “I know why you’ve come. You’re worried about the missing gentleman. You’re worried that Bane killed him.” He laughed. “I’m afraid the shifter is much more powerful than your devil.”

My breath caught in my throat.

At this, the priest turned away and I could see his face. It was twisted in agony. He moved to the window and gripped the edge of the pane, staring into the garden below. Then he swiveled back around. “You’ll suffer for what you’ve done, and I won’t need to wait for God’s justice to see you suffer the consequences.”

Ferran only sneered at him when the priest left the room, with Ferran close at his heels.

* * *

A few minutes after the priest left the shop, Ferran made a motion in the room and then he was leaving the shop with several other men. Everyone except Ferran held something in their hand, ranging from hammers to knives and even a saw. I shivered, certain that they weren’t out to fix their neighbor’s house.

I dropped back down to the street, pulling at my hat to make sure that all of my hair was still tucked in tightly, and followed them from a distance.

Ferran held a small package close to his chest, occasionally glancing down at it, twisting it to and fro in his hands. They skimmed past most of the shops until they found the bakery, which was lit up by the fire from the oven and walked inside.

I moved as close as I dared, straining to hear.

Though their sounds were muffled, I desperately wished I had better hearing, I could tell that they were arguing.

The baker must be brave, to consider protesting against such a threatening crowd and I wondered what the town would be like if all the men had the courage that this man displayed.

What would I do in this situation?

I remembered how quickly I ran from them last night and a tinge of pink spread through my cheeks. However I knew that if I’d stayed, I’d most certainly be kissing the dead ruffian on the bottom of the bay by now and so I didn’t feel too bad about it.

There was a scuffle and I pulled the knife from my pocket, trying to decide if I should aid the man when suddenly they burst from the shop and scattered into the street.

I turned towards the wall, huddling into my jacket until I was sure that they were all gone before I went inside.

As soon as I entered, I heard a click and an elderly woman shoved a flintlock pistol towards my nose.

“If you don’t leave here by the time I count to three, I’ll blow your head off.”

* * *

I cried out and stumbled backwards, throwing my hands in the air. “I’m not here to harm anyone.” I pointed to the baker, Edward, who was beaten to a bloody pulp on the floor. “I came to see if he was okay.”

The woman eyed me suspiciously though her eyes darted to Edward who was beginning to moan.

“See?” I dropped my knife and held my empty hands towards her. “I mean you no harm.”

After a moment’s hesitation, the woman lowered the gun. I pulled off my jacket and ripped off the lower half of my shirt and rushed towards Edward. I pressed the shirt to his head, which was bleeding profusely.

He gripped my arm and then looked up at the woman, smiling. “Don’t worry, Caroline, this is how we used to rough around when I was in the Navy.”

She knelt next to me and he winced when I moved his arm, which was pressed under his body at an awkward angle. I motioned my head towards the gun. “Earned that in the Navy, did you?” His arm was still a little crooked and I wondered if it was broken.

He nodded, biting the inside of his cheek against the pain.

I took the wad of material off his head and noticed that it wasn’t bleeding as much, so I wiped it as much as I could and folded the cloth. Finding a clean spot, I pressed it against his wound again.

“What did he want you to do?”

Edward’s eyes darkened and his eyes moved to the counter, where the package lay. “He wants me to slip that stuff into the bread.”

“What is it?”

Edward shrugged. “I can’t be certain, not that he’s telling me anything mind you, but I’m guessing it may be opium or something of the sort.”

Caroline stood up and gripped the package. For a moment I thought she was going to throw it in the oven but then she stopped and looked helplessly at Edward. Their eyes met, silently speaking in the language only they understood.

I shifted nervously. “What are you going to do?”

Then Caroline’s eyes met mine. “We’ll have to do it.” She swallowed as if she were swallowing a fish whole. “They’ll discover eventually that we’ve no bullets in that gun.”

My hand tightened on the cloth and Edward winced. I pulled my hand back, checking the wound; it wasn’t bleeding anymore.

“And what happens when people start eating the bread?”

Caroline looked away, not answering, but I didn’t need her to.

“What if…” I hesitated, unsure if this was something that I could promise her. “Do they come at all hours during the day or only around this time?”

Edward started to sit up and I helped him to his feet. After he was to his full height, I couldn’t help but admire him even more. He was about the same size as me, having shrunk with age. He took a deep breath as he stepped forward slowly, as if he wasn’t sure his foot would hold his weight.

“He only comes after the day rush is over, when he knows we’re cooking and there isn’t anyone here to purchase the bread.”

I turned about the room, inspecting it. “Couldn’t you put something against the door to bar their entrance?”

Caroline pointed to the shattered wardrobe in the corner and I frowned, needing no explanation. Instead, I walked to the door and studied it. “We could make it sturdier, and put a bar across it to make it strong.” I turned back to them and looked away when I saw the pity they held in their eyes. I bit my lip and turned back to the door, trying to decide if I could really offer this.

“There is another possibility.” I walked back towards them. “What if I told you I knew someone who could protect you?”

Their eyes widened and they turned towards each other. Edward ran his hand through his white hair and frowned. “All the rest of the shops have already given in to his demands. Most of them are paying him a portion of their profits.” His face suddenly looked very tired and he sat in the chair. A large bump was beginning to form on the top of his head.

Caroline joined him and took his hand. “We’re fortunate that we only have to feed ourselves. If we’d managed to have children, we’d be starving.” She gripped his hand tighter and smiled, staring into his eyes. “We’ll manage it.”

I turned towards them, feeling an instinct that threatened to choke me. “You can’t bake this into the bread.” From the look on their faces, I knew I read them correctly; they were seriously considering it. My mouth dropped open. “You can’t do it. If he wants you to do it, you know it’ll be bad. What if it kills someone? Can you live with yourself if that happens?”

Their faces were a matching mask of calm, hiding their fear. Caroline stood up and picked up the chair that had toppled over in the fray. “I’m sure everything will be fine. Doc prescribes this for little babies, how can it be any worse in the bread?” When she turned towards me, her face was tight. “Right?”

Making a decision, I stepped forward. “Strengthen the door and I promise I’ll send someone to help keep you safe.”

Caroline’s eyes narrowed. “Who? And for how long? Every time he returns with more men and the violence gets worse. I can’t ask anyone to risk their lives for us, especially since we’re old anyhow. Who knows how much longer we have on this earth?”

Edward nodded, touching his head tenderly.

I moved to him. “Come, you need rest.” I pulled him to his feet and he leaned against me as I pulled him towards one of the beds in the corner. “I’ll come tomorrow myself to fix the door, and later on Landon will help guard the door.”

Caroline, who had followed me, helped me guide Edward onto the bed and his eyes began to droop. I just hoped that they would open in the morning. After pulling off his shoes, I pulled the blanket over him and we walked back toward the oven.

Caroline leaned towards me, whispering. “I can’t ask Landon to do that. He’s got his family to look after. His mum would ring my neck if he died for us, especially after everything that family’s been through. His pa dying and all that.” She suddenly laughed, her age evaporating off her face even though her laugh was high and tight. “I’m not sure who I’m more afraid of, his mum or that man.” She spit the last two words out like they were bitter on her tongue.

“I’m sure Landon’s mother has taught him to treat others with dignity and respect, especially the elderly.” I thought of the trips to the widow’s street that we were now making together. I put my hand over hers and pat it. “I promise. He will come.”

Her face drooped but she nodded. Then she turned towards the oven. The smell of the baking bread hit my nose and my stomach growled. I hadn’t eaten since breakfast and it was almost nighttime now. She turned around and, taking the wooden peel off of the counter, opened the oven and pulled a few loaves out.

I breathed in deeply, reveling in the smell of it, then was embarrassed when I saw that she was staring at me. I took a step back. “I’ll return tomorrow then.” I moved towards the door.

She gripped my hand. “Wait, wait.”

She wrapped one of the loaves and pressed it into my hands.

“I couldn’t. I’ve food to eat at home.” I smiled and I pushed it back into her hands, though my stomach protested vehemently and she laughed at the sound.

“I just happened to have some extra dough and this loaf is too small to sell anyway.” She didn’t mention the fact that it was probably made for them.

I pulled some coins from my pocket and tried to give them to her. “At least let me pay for them.”

She folded her hands over mine and squeezed firmly, looking into my eyes. “No.”

I swallowed hard and nodded, then turned towards the door.

She walked me to it and we didn’t say much by way of farewell, then I was back on the street.

* * *

As soon as her door closed behind me, I tore into the bread and moved stealthily towards my home, paying attention to anyone who looked at me twice. I was so absorbed in my surroundings that I noticed just in time that half of the loaf was already eaten. I tucked the rest into my pocket to save for Landon.

When I opened the door he was sitting on the sofa staring at the floor, his hands clasped tight. I rushed towards him. “What’s wrong?”

His eyes met mine and then he sat back, as if startled.

“What’s wrong, Landon?”

He took a moment to respond and I wondered if he’d had a shock of some sort. He blinked his eyes and then it was as if he just now realized I was here.

“You’re feeling better then?”

I frowned. “Yes, quite better. Are you ill now?”

He shook his head, smiling. “I’m just fine thank you. I’ve warmed some of the leftover soup for you.” He motioned towards the kitchen.

I smiled and pulled out the rest of the bread. “I’ve brought you some bread to eat.”

His eyes went to it and I could see the hunger in them; it’d been a while since we’d purchased bread and now that I thought of it, I determined that we should procure it more often. That would help to provide a living for Edward and Caroline.

“Come,” I held out my hand, “I need to speak to you.”

After pouring a bowl of soup and dividing up the bread, giving him most of it since I’d already eaten half, we sat at the table.

In that moment, I had a strange sort of sensation. It was a homey type of feeling that reminded me of the days I would sit with my parents around the table, enjoying food and their company. I imagined that this could’ve been what my life would be like if the strigoi never existed and a lump formed in my throat.

Then I looked at Landon and, realizing that even though I cherished him dearly, I would never feel for him as deeply as I’d felt for Detrand. He slept in my old room and we lived almost like brother and sister, although talk around the town described a different story, of course. None would understand our situation, and we dared not speak of the strigoi outside this home.

And yet, wasn’t this companionship enough? I frowned, considering the matter when I realized that Landon was speaking my name. My head snapped to him.

He grinned, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “You needed to talk to me about something?”

“Oh yes.” I took a sip of my soup to delay my response.

He stared at me intently and when I found that I could delay it no longer, I spoke. “I’ve a favor to ask you.”

He laughed, which surprised me.

“What?”

“By the way you were acting, I thought you were going to tell me someone had died or something.” He looked away. “That or tell me I had to move out.” An uncomfortable silence rested over us, the reminder of the fact that his presence here wasn’t necessarily my own choosing.

I put my hand over his. “Landon, you are welcome here for as long as you wish. In fact, I enjoy your company and am even glad that Detrand forced you to move here. I think I would be rather lonely without you.”

He smiled and this time it reached his eyes. He turned his hand to squeeze mine. “Tell me what it is that you wish. Of course, I’m willing to help you with whatever you need.”

With this I frowned and my stomach rolled over with nerves. “I must admit something; I didn’t tell you the truth last night.”

“Okay.” His eyes grew tight. “What happened?”

“I saw someone killed yesterday.”

“Oh no.” His hand squeezed mine tighter. “Are you okay?”

“No, that’s not it. I’m actually… I’ve actually volunteered you to help Edward and his wife.” I nodded towards the bread. “The same person who killed the man yesterday is threatening to kill the baker, among doing many other horrible things, and I’ve offered to help protect them.”

My throat had gone dry and Landon was squeezing my hand too tight, though I don’t think he realized it.

“And what is the name of this man?”

“Ferran.” I looked into his eyes when I spoke the name and his eyes widened in response.

He jerked his hand away from mine and, after taking my bowl and his own, went to the kitchen. He set the bowls down deliberately and I stared at my bowl wistfully. I wasn’t finished eating yet.

Then he turned around and folded his arms across his chest. “You had no right to promise them that. Not without speaking to me first.”

I stood up. “But Landon, we have to help these people. You should’ve seen what they did to Edward, they almost killed him.”

“I don’t need to see Edward to know what they’re capable of.”

I frowned. “So you know about them, then?”

“Of course. I’ve known for weeks that’s he’s been coming in, bringing shipments and men in through the docks.”

“Then why haven’t you done anything about it?” I moved towards him. “The people in this city are afraid of him.” I turned away and went towards the back door to look at the back garden. The horse from the bar was in my back garden, chewing the cold and dry grass. I looked towards the city behind it. “We have to help them. We can’t just stand by and do nothing.”

“That’s exactly what we’re going to do.”

I whirled around. “How can you say that?”

“Adelade, you’ve only come to see the decayed part of this city now that you’ve been exposed to it. But it’s always been here. Whether because of Ferran or someone else, it has always been here and always will.”

“But we can do something, I can do something.”

He came to me now. “There is nothing we can do, and you’ll only get hurt.” He put his hand to my face and traced the side of it. “I couldn’t bear it if you were killed.” He turned around. “Not to mention, Lula would kill me.”

I folded my arms across my stomach. “I thought you didn’t speak to Lula anymore.”

He shrugged, though his back was facing me so I couldn’t see his face. “I saw her last night after you went to bed, with Stefano. They came to the house.”

A fury rose up in me. “And you didn’t think to wake me? To think that I would like to see her?”

He moved back towards the kitchen and scraped the soup into the bin. “She’s just trying to protect you.”

I closed my eyes, so sick of people telling me that. Telling me that they were protecting me, when they had no thought to ask me what I wanted. “And what about protecting you?”

He shrugged. “My life is of no consequence.”

I stared at him, my mouth open that he could even suggest a thing. “And mine? What do I have to live for? I’ve no family. I’m living off the inheritance my father left me so I have no work.” Tears sparked in my eyes and I brushed them away quickly, even angrier that I was crying. “I’ve nothing to live for.”

Landon rushed to me and gripped me by the arms, shaking me. “Never say that. You’re much better than any of us.” His eyes searched my face. “You actually care about people.” Then he let me go and turned away from me. “You’re too good for us.”

“That’s not true. You sacrifice everything for your family. You’re even willing to do whatever the strigoi require to protect them, even if it goes against something you care about, or even against someone you love.”

“I don’t, Adelade. I don’t do it for love or passion.” He turned towards me again and I saw the weariness in his eyes, in the way he stood, in his very essence. “I do it because I have no other choice. I’ve done it so long, I don’t even know why I do it anymore.”

I went to him and pressed the palm of my hand against his cheek. “You do it because you love your mother and your siblings. The desire to protect them is so ingrained in every part of your body that you don’t even realize it anymore.”

He gripped my hand so tight, as if it were keeping him from going over the edge of a precipice. “I don’t know if I can do it any longer, Adelade.”

I put my arms around him and then he was leaning on me.

“We’ll figure this out, Landon. I promise.”

He shook his head, mumbling.

I gripped him tighter. “We will.”

Then there was a pounding on the door and Landon shot up, all of the misery gone from his face, replaced by determination. “Who is that?”

I shook my head and he turned around. We walked towards the door and I pulled my knife from my pocket. Landon walked through the kitchen and found one of his stakes. He hesitated for a moment before opening the door to prepare for an attack. I couldn’t immediately see who was there because Landon was blocking me protectively. However, his body relaxed and he pocketed the stake before he moved away from it to reveal Raisa on the doorstep.

* * *

We sat across from each other, and Raisa was eagerly eating the last of the loaf of bread. I eyed it regretfully and sighed. I was tempted to ask of Detrand but held my tongue.

“And how is Lula? Will she shift?” I was eager to hear news of her. I looked up at Landon who was standing behind me, realizing that I could’ve asked him the same question, and pressed my lips together. We would continue that conversation at a later date.

“It isn’t certain if she will shift, but we will know soon enough. Otherwise, she’s well, actually.” She paused. “Except she is having a bit of a hard time controlling her…” she looked around the room as if the furniture would give her the answer, “urges.”

Landon shifted behind me and I put my hand to my chest. “Oh dear.”

“For now, it is taken care of but things will need to be resolved soon.”

I furrowed my brow. “Why is that?”

Landon moved around the sofa to sit next to me. “You came here for a reason Raisa. What do you need?”

I turned to gape at him. At the same time, she frowned, and for a moment they stared at each other silently. Then Raisa turned towards me.

“I’ve come to complete your assignment with the fae king.”

The blood drained from my face. “Still? I thought it needed to be completed within a week.”

Raisa shrugged. “Time to the fae is different from the living.”

I remembered that the man from the bar never gave me the lunaviene and a spark of anger filled my chest. “Your man, DeChadik, left me in the bar to die. And he took the money.”

She cleared her throat and eyed me warily. “First of all, he’s not my man; he’s just a supplier; the only supplier of lunaviene in town. Second of all, you were to complete the test before he could give it to you, which you hadn’t when the bar caught fire. Now that you’ve concluded the test, he will give it to us.”

I frowned. “How do you know that I’ve concluded the test?”

She looked straight into my eyes. “Because you are alive.”

The room was quiet for a moment and I shifted uncomfortably. Landon’s hand went to my knee and he squeezed it reassuringly. Raisa’s eyes didn’t look down but I had a suspicion that she took careful note of it.

No matter. Detrand had pushed me aside, let her report to him what she would.

“So now what? Do you need me to go with you to collect if from him?” I stood but she held her hand up to stop me.

“No, that will come later.”

I sat back down. “Then, what?”

“I need something from you.”

Landon sat up, his back straight and he stared intently at her. “What do you need?”

Raisa eyed him thoughtfully, crossed her legs, and leaned over towards him. “Last time I heard, Adelade was the master of this house.” Landon jerked his head back and blinked at her, a blush forming on his face. She looked at me. “I’ve come to ask for a drop of your blood, for the recipe requires the vital fluid of he or she who has given their word to prepare it.”

I leaned forward and Landon pressed his hand on my knee again, squeezing it. “And what will happen if I give it? Will be I bound to the king in any way?”

She shook her head. “No.”

“Then why is it necessary?”

“It is difficult to explain the ways of the magic of the fae.”

I folded my arms. “Try.”

She closed her eyes for a moment, struggling for an explanation. “When you gave your word,” emphasizing my role in this, “you promised to protect my people from the wrath of my king. This must be sealed with your blood, to demonstrate your commitment to the cause. Otherwise, it is void.”

I mulled it over, ignoring Landon’s warning hold on my knee.

“And what of the consequences? To me,” I looked at Landon, “to anyone I know.”

She shrugged. “I cannot tell, for each time it is different. The spell will most certainly make you tired, for it is a heavy spell.”

“For one drop of blood?”

She swallowed hard. “It is a dark spell. I don’t like participating in them, but for you… for my people… I will do it.”

This cost her, I could sense it. I had made a promise to the fae. I’d also made a promise to be at the baker’s the next day.

“Could we delay it? Maybe in two-days’ time?”

She shook her head. “I’ve already delayed it as long as possible.” She wouldn’t look me in the eyes and I suspected there was something she wasn’t telling me.

“And what does Detrand say?”

Her face grew fierce. “Detrand isn’t here.”

“No, he isn’t…” I bit my lip, considering my options. “Will he know it, through our connection?”

She shook her head. “My spell has blocked both connections, you cannot feel his emotions and he cannot feel yours.” She looked behind me out the back window. “It was better that way.”

“Does Detrand know this?”

She nodded. “He requested it.”

My stomach burned. He’d cut me off completely.

I studied Raisa, the way she held her body. She was tense, so tense, and she wouldn’t meet my eyes.

And, yet, I had given my word to do it. I’d put myself in this position.

What would the consequences be if I refused? I thought of the fae I’d met when I was with Detrand and how scraggly and ill fed he’d looked. I didn’t need to ask Raisa the consequences to her people if I refused. And even though I was uncertain of the dangers that it held to my own life, I knew that I had to do it, for their sake.

And so I nodded my head and Raisa grinned a bright grin. Landon suddenly stood and left the room. He stomped up the stairs and went into his room and slammed his door shut.

Raisa scooted to the edge of her chair and rolled her eyes. “Men. Always trying to supervise our actions.”

I grinned even though I felt bad about it. Landon had done nothing but try to help me, including teaching me how to fight, which only empowered me more. If he’d wanted to constrain me, he wouldn’t have bothered.

Then I thought of his admission, that Lula had come to my house and he hadn’t woke me. My stubborn side emerged and I held out my hand to Raisa, who took it immediately. “Do it.”