My brows furrowed as I looked from one brother to another. Neither Sol nor Malcolm laughed at Jerrett’s bizarre statement. They looked as serious as he did. More so, maybe.

So I laughed for them, though the sharp huff of air made my still healing ribs twinge with pain.

“What are you talking about? You mean fae, as in fairy? No, I’m a vampire.”

The last word came out with surprising ease. Maybe I was finally getting used to the idea, used to my new life.

And now they were trying to tell me that wasn’t true?

“I was human, then I became a vampire. You turned me.”

I spoke slowly, as if maybe they’d forgotten that night and needed a gentle reminder.

Sol stepped toward me as his mouth dropped open slightly. He cupped my cheek, running a few loose strands of hair through his fingers. Goose bumps rose on my skin at his touch. At the look in his eyes.

“It’s true, Willow. I’ve always smelled it on you. I didn’t recognize the scent for what it was because it’s been so many years since I’ve smelled it. I thought the fae were gone. All but extinct. But you have fae blood. I’m sure of it.”

Malcolm and Jerrett came closer. Their expressions matched Sol’s—a confusing mixture of fierce hunger, shock, and worry.

“You were never human. Not fully anyway.” Malcolm’s strong brows pulled together. “You’ve been part fae your entire life. Yes, you are a vampire now, but not only that. You’re a vampire-fae hybrid.”

I had no idea what that meant. The word “fae” made me think of little pink-winged fairies flitting around throwing sparkly dust on things. I’d never done anything even remotely like that in my life. And I definitely didn’t have wings. I would’ve noticed.

But Malcolm didn’t say the word like he was talking about something cute and pretty. The way he said it made them seem dangerous.

Were these fae creatures worse than vampires? And how could I have spent my whole life as one and not even known it?

I stepped away from Sol’s touch, licking my lips. “How do you know? What makes you so sure all of a sudden? You never told me I was fae before. Why now?”

Jerrett snorted. “Because you just went incorporeal on us, sweetheart. And you have Sight. That’s fae.”

“But you knew about the Sight before! And the shades can go incorporeal. I’m not the only one!” I sounded defensive, and I wasn’t sure why. Probably because I was sick of having the rug pulled out from under me every time I thought I’d gotten my bearings.

“Sure they can, Will. But lots of undead creatures can do that. It’s kind of a hallmark of their kind.” Jerrett flashed a smile, but he was still staring at me ravenously.

“He’s right,” Sol murmured. “The only living supernaturals who are able to phase in and out like that are fae. Not all of them can do it, but no other species is able to at all.”

I thought about that for a second, trying to find a weak spot in his argument. But how could I? Everything I knew about supernaturals, I’d learned from them. I couldn’t argue that some other supernatural being possessed this power—I didn’t even know what other kinds of magical creatures existed.

“All right. Fine.” I chewed on my lip, trying to keep my unease at bay. “So I’m fae. What does that mean, exactly? Why are you all staring at me like that?”

The brothers shared a look, but no one spoke. My stomach dropped precipitously.

“No! No way! You can’t do that. You can’t drop something like this on me and then not tell me what it means.” I smacked Sol’s chest, hard.

He trapped my hands against the firm muscles of his pecs, his fingers curling around mine as his thumbs caressed my skin. I didn’t want to let it, but the contact soothed me. The blond vampire stepped forward, closing the gap between us and inhaling my scent. I felt his whole body shudder as he breathed in, tensing under my touch.

“It means you’re in much more danger than we ever knew, Willow tree.”

Worry cascaded through me. Sol wasn’t prone to hyperbole or overreaction, so if he said I was in danger, I most definitely was.

“From who? The shades?”

“Yes. But not just them. There are other creatures who would come after you if they knew you were fae. Those who are responsible for nearly wiping the fae out in the first place.”

I swallowed, my fingers curling into his soft, dark shirt. “What kinds of creatures?”

“Vampires.”

My heart stopped.

I tugged my hands away from Sol’s grip, stepping back quickly, but Jerrett caught me in his arms.

“Not from us, sweetheart. Never from us,” he murmured softly in my ear, his breath stirring my hair. “And even we couldn’t smell it strongly enough on you to be sure until now. No one else ever needs to know.”

He was right. I’d been living with them for the past week and a half, and despite how close we’d gotten, none of them had ever realized there was anything off about me. Besides, they’d told me they were lone hunters by choice. Maybe I would never even have to meet another vampire. As curious as I’d been to encounter others of our kind, I’d been nervous about it too—and this just gave me one more reason to avoid it.

That still didn’t answer the question of what I was though. What were fae?

I twisted, looking up into Jerrett’s angular face. “So, what does this mean? I don’t feel any different. I never had magic powers growing up or—”

A plaintive cry pierced the still air of the church, and my stomach dropped.

Oh shit. The kids!

I’d been so distracted fighting for my life and then processing this strange new revelation that I’d completely forgotten to check on the little goblin children.

There had been more shades in my vision. Had they arrived at last, the backup to their undead brethren?

“The little ones!”

I raced out of the small room, emerging on one side of the raised dais where the altar sat.

Bright light pierced my eyes, temporarily blinding me. I stopped, raising a hand to block the beam. The little boy I’d handed the flashlight to stood just outside the door to the office. He swiveled, making the circle of light bounce along a side wall. It took both his little hands to hold the thing, and his grip on it seemed tenuous.

I dashed down the stairs, past several shriveled corpses of shades, and scooped the goblin boy up in my arms before pushing into the office. The other kids were still huddled in the nook created by the desk and the filing cabinet.

“Oh, thank God,” I breathed. Then I amended my words. “Thank Fate.”

I wasn’t sure anymore if God existed. Maybe he was just another supernatural being I had yet to learn about. Regardless, the one who seemed to be listening to my prayers lately was Fate.

The little boy pointed the flashlight up at the ceiling, and when I turned back toward the brothers as they entered the room, the light caught the underside of my face. I was sure I looked ghoulish, like someone telling a scary story around a campfire.

Was that what they would think of me now? That I was some kind of monster? They’d looked both frightened and hungry when they learned I was fae. Why?

I wanted to press them for more answers, but my brain rebelled. There would be time enough for that later. Right now, I needed to focus on what had brought us here. Saving these kids.

As if he’d read my thoughts, Malcolm stepped forward. In a surprisingly gentle gesture for such a large warrior, he tugged the flashlight out of the boy’s hand, chucking him under the chin. “I’ll take that, little man.”

“We need to get them out of here,” I said, meeting his gaze over the boy’s head.

“We do.” Malcolm set the flashlight on a bookcase, allowing it to light the room as a makeshift lamp. “But it’s too late to head back tonight. The sun will be up in an hour or so.”

I wondered if that was some sense vampires developed over time. I certainly hadn’t yet. I’d have to work on paying more attention to the clock so I didn’t end up getting trapped outside somewhere and burning to a crisp.

“So what do we do?” I hitched the boy higher on my hip, looking over at the huddle of other kids.

“We wait until tomorrow night. We can seal off this room so no light gets in, and it should be safe until then.”

“Safe? Are you kidding me? What if more of those shades show up?” I tried to keep the panic out of my voice, but I felt the boy shudder in my arms. I rocked him gently, swaying my hips back and forth as I spoke in a quieter, calmer voice. “We’d be sitting ducks.”

“I know.” Malcolm pursed his lips. “It’s not ideal. But I highly doubt the shades will return during the day. They can walk in daylight, but most creatures of darkness choose not to. The sunlight weakens them.”

I glanced down at the goblin boy cradled in my arms. We didn’t really have a choice. We’d never make it back across the border before the sun rose, and these kids were safer here with us than they would be wandering on their own through the woods.

“Okay. We’ll stay here.”

Almost as if they’d been waiting for my go-ahead, Sol and Jerrett stepped out of the room, returning a few moments later with the long, padded seat of a pew. They propped it against the wall, blocking part of the small window, then repeated the process with a second large plank, masking the window entirely.

They shoved the desk a few feet to the left to brace the pieces of wood, making sure not to step on the huddled kids as they did. Then Jerrett pulled his shirt over his head, and Sol did the same. I tried not to drool as the ambient glow from the flashlight illuminated their carved, muscled torsos.

“Why are we getting naked?” The question was meant to sound casual, but the hitch in my voice gave me away.

Jerrett shot me a smile that practically curled my toes. I wanted to lick all the blood off his lean stomach, and I didn’t even care how disgusting that would’ve sounded to my past self.

“We aren’t getting naked, sweetheart. Unless you want to.” He winked. “We just need something to keep the light out. Come on, Mal, cough up.”

Grimacing, Malcolm tugged his shirt over his head too, tossing it to Jerrett. He and Sol worked quickly, stuffing the fabric into any cracks around the window where sunlight might shine through.

While they worked, I set the little goblin kid down, and he rejoined the pile of his friends. I wished I could talk to them and explain what was going on. Ask their names.

But from the way the little boy had clung to me, they knew by now that we were here to help. They trusted us. That would have to be enough.

“There!” Jerrett hopped down from the desk, dusting off his hands in satisfaction. “That’ll do for a day.”

A bone-deep exhaustion suddenly settled over me. Everything had happened so fast since we arrived that I’d hardly had time to process any of it.

Jesus. Less than an hour ago, I’d fallen from a three-story bell tower locked in an embrace with an undead creature. And now I stood in a tiny, dark room with seven goblin children and three shirtless vampire men.

What the hell is my life?

But that thought didn’t have the same sting it once had. This was my life, and as unnerving and terrifying as it sometimes was—as many new questions as I now had—I wouldn’t have traded it for anything.

These kids would see their families again because of us. Humans didn’t even know they existed. The vampire king apparently didn’t care enough to intervene. No one else would’ve come for them if we hadn’t.

There were dark things in the world. I’d known that long before I became a vampire.

But not all dark things were evil. Some of them kept the evil at bay.

I settled onto the floor a few feet away from the mass of little gray-brown bodies. The pile of limbs was starting to slowly unwind as the frightened children peeked up and blinked at us. Sol surprised me when he gently scooted me forward and sat down between me and the wall, pulling me into the cradle of his body.

“Sleep, Willow tree. We’ll keep watch.”

We had time—all day, in fact. We could talk more. I had so many questions. But his voice was like a sedative, and my body responded almost instantly. I felt Malcolm’s large hand rest on my knee, and Jerrett dropped a kiss to my cheek.

“Our little fae. We’ll never let you go.”

I wasn’t sure if I imagined those whispered words, or if I actually heard them.

But before I could decide, sleep took me.