Rook leans up on her elbows and the washcloth Alfrigg put on her head topples down to her lap, “What the hell was that?”

Alfrigg and Samuel stand over her staring with concern. Samuel leans down closer to her, “Are you feeling better?”

Rook is still caught in the remnants of her dream. Who was that? What was that? She feels hot and satisfied. But it was just dream.

“Rook?” Samuel questions.

“I’m better, the pain is gone, but I feel...foggy.”

“You look a little flushed,” Samuel says, studying her and placing his hand on her forehead.

“Foggy?” Alfrigg asks, “Like how?”

“Like I’m in a dream, as though none of this is real.” She pushes her hair back from her face and inhales a breath to gain more clarity. It doesn’t work, her mind is on the man in her dream and the amazing orgasm she had.

Samuel turns, looking back at Alfrigg, “Do you think she could be having a reaction to being here?”

Alfrigg’s expression twists, “Doubtful.”

“Then what’s happening to me?” Rook wraps her arms around her stomach, “I feel so...hungry. But I don’t think I can eat.”

“Do you have anything that could help?” Samuel’s eyes flash toward the potions lining the walls behind the table.

“Possibly, but I don’t want to give her anything until I know what’s going on.” Alfrigg heads for the kitchen, “How about a snack?”

Rook shakes her head, “No, I don’t think I can eat.” She closes her eyes, “I’m feeling better, though.”

She turns and puts her feet on the floor and readies herself to stand, “I think a walk might help.”

“Are you feeling any kind of dizziness?” Samuel asks, keeping his hands at the ready to catch her.

“No, just foggy.” She pulls her lips to the side and squints, “Sort of like when you’ve misplaced your keys and you’re trying to remember where you put them.”

“Interesting.” Alfrigg rubs the short stubble on his chin.

“You have an idea?” Samuel asks expectantly.

“No,” he shrugs, “it’s just interesting. Don’t you think?”

Samuel lets out a frustrated breath, “Maybe we should call Vivienne.”

“That’s not a bad idea,” Alfrigg agrees.

Rook blanches at the idea, remembering she’s a little angry with Vivienne.

“Oh hush, Vivienne’s a tough cookie and doesn’t put up with bullshit. She’ll help someone as long as it doesn’t get her hands too dirty,” Samuel scolds. “When she told you to go, it was for your own good...and hers,” he admits.

“I’m feeling better now,” Rook insists. “I want to go for a walk.” She puts her boots on and laces them up.

“I’ll go with you,” Samuel offers and turns to Alfrigg. “You see if you can come up with anything.”

Alfrigg bristles, “Like I’ll have an answer just pop out of thin air.”

“Try.” Samuel pins him with a look.

Alfrigg calls after them when they’re nearly to the front door, “Watch out for the smites, it’s that time of day, and they’re hungry little buggers.”

“Got it.” Samuel rolls his eyes, knowing his skin is tough enough to handle a bite.

Rook wrinkles her nose, “Worse than mosquitoes?”

“About the same,” Alfrigg assures her and hands her a small pouch full of powder. “Just sprinkle a little of this around you if they start to swarm.”

Rook takes the bag and examines it and shoves it into her jeans pocket. She exchanges a glance with Samuel before heading out the door.

She looks around in wonder, barely able to comprehend the hues in this enchanted forest. She turns to Samuel, “Are there many places like this in New Orleans?”

Samuel smiles at her naivety, he often forgets that she really is in many ways still a girl. She knows so little of the world that dart on the map brought her to. “Darlin’ we’re not in New Orleans.”

“Well, outside of it.” She holds her hand out to catch a smite that’s fluttering close to her. She studies it with amazement, watching as it glows and flutters.

“Way outside of it.” Samuel widens his eyes, “Hey, be careful, remember they bite.”

The smite lands on her hand and sinks its teeth into her finger. She flicks her hand to get it off. “Ow, what the hell?” she cries out then sucks the blood off her finger.

“Alfrigg warned you.” Samuel laughs heartily at her reaction.

“That hurt.” She sucks a breath through her teeth and looks down at the smite on the ground, the light of its body dimming. “What’s happening? Is it like a bee, if it stings you it dies?”

They both kneel to examine the bug. Samuel looks closer as the light goes out, “Your blood is toxic to them, too.”

“Yeah, well, the mosquitoes never had a problem, I used to get eaten alive as a kid.” Her expression sours with the oncoming memory, “And the horse flies, you wouldn’t believe how bad it hurts when they bite.”

“I’m familiar with horse flies.”

“They suck,” she says with pouty lips, standing up and feeling a little bad if she’s the reason the bug is dead.

“Now that we’re out here, let’s have a talk.” Samuel gets very serious.

“Oh God, I don’t like that look,” she says with apprehension.

“Things are going to be heating up for you, and unless you intend to stay here forever, I think you should really think about what your options are,” Samuel continues, trying to speak in a calming tone.

“Are you saying it’s going to get worse than it is? You don’t think it’s going to die down after a week or two?” she asks, full of concern.

“We’re talking about ancient beings, thousands of years old, and they have perfected holding a grudge.”

“But why? I didn’t do anything except for not get drained by Jeziah. I don’t see how that’s my fault.” She shakes her head.

“Yeah, you said that, but they don’t see it that way.” He starts walking again, “In their eyes you killed one of theirs, you were also working with us to bust them. They don’t take kindly to that either.”

“You want me to just run?”

“Yeah, you need to leave New Orleans. Probably avoid any cities that tend to have a lot of supernaturals. Lay low for a while, go by your real name.” He smiles, “It’s not so bad, it’s not like you have roots here.”

The hurt in Rook’s eyes affects Samuel, “How can you say that?”

“What I mean is, it’s not like you have to pack up a house, quit a job, stuff like that.”

Rook remains quiet, wrapping her arms around herself protectively.

After a long pause, Samuel can’t help but ask, “What did I say?”

Rook blows out a quick breath, pulling one shoulder to her ear. “I guess...well, I considered you roots, and Vivienne, Seamus. You guys are like family.”

“Oh, Rook, it’s not that we don't love you. I love you, it’s like having a kid sister, but we all know that staying here is going to be too dangerous for you.” He puts his arm around her shoulders and pulls her tight to him, “You have a real family that loves you in Idaho. I envy that.”

A sad memory flashes in his eyes, “I gave up my pack when I decided to come here and work for The Directive. Supernaturals are funny, they either love or hate The Directive. I think what they’re doing is good and believe in what we do.”

“Your pack kicked you out?” she asks, surprised.

“Sort of. I could go back if I wanted, but I would have to choose between my pack and The Directive.” There’s something deeper to what he’s saying.

Rook wants to know more. The investigator in her wants to know what’s really behind the look in his eyes, “Now you’re holding out on me.”

“You’re looking for a story that’s not there.” He chuckles, “But that’s your nature.”

“It’s instinct.” She tilts her chin up with pride, “And my instincts are screaming at me about the real story.”

“That's the story.” A sad smile stretches across his face.

“And you’re sticking to it?” She laughs.

“Yes,” he says insistently, his expression clouding with darkness. “But we should really practice some of what I taught you. You’re going to run into other vampires in the world and I want you to be ready to protect yourself.”

Rook is hesitant to answer, she’s not ready for the possibility of leaving New Orleans and never coming back. “Isn’t my blood enough to protect me?”

“You’re presently hiding in a troll’s cloaked forest, I’d say your blood puts you in more danger.”

“He’s a troll?” Her lips screw up at the thought, “He said he was fae.”

“Fae is a general term.” Samuel shrugs, “But let’s get to work.”

Rook drops her backpack on the ground and pushes the sleeves up on her flannel shirt, “Let the training montage begin.”

“I don’t know about a training montage.” Samuel laughs, “Just a trick or two to give you time if you need to get away.”