Sorrow's Apprentice: Kit Melbourne, #7

By Kater Cheek

An undead turf war. A golden opportunity. A betrayal that could lose her everything.

 

Red Rock, Arizona. Leo Fain thirsts for complete control of the city's vampires. But when an impenetrable ward interrupts his efforts to overthrow his greatest nemesis, he needs an ace in the hole to get his team inside. Now he must make amends with his sorceress ex-girlfriend and convince her to conjure an opening for the fight of his life.

Kit Melbourne refuses to allow her pregnancy to stop her quest to become the most powerful witch in the world. So when her bloodsucking ex dangles a life-changing apprenticeship in exchange for her help, she leaps at the chance to showcase her skill. But impressing the legendary warlock means betraying her boss and getting caught in their deadly battle.

As secret deals from dark entities force Fain to put Kit in the line of fire, the power-hungry blood-drinker has no idea the evil he's about to unleash. And her decision to help him could cost the precious life growing inside her.

Can the former lovers find their strength without paying the ultimate price?

Sorrow's Apprentice is the seventh book in the enthralling Kit Melbourne urban fantasy series. If you like vampire battles, covert operations, and strong-willed women, then you'll love Kater Cheek's action-packed heist.

Buy Sorrow's Apprentice to pull off a supernatural coup today!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Kater Cheek
• Release date: Oct 1, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393752271

Book preview

Chapter One

Brenda was nearly a decade older than when she graduated high school, but she would probably be carded for the rest of her life. Now that Brenda was a vampire, she could jump high enough to have been the star of her high school basketball team. This came in handy now that she needed to jump high enough to slip the black plastic bag over the lens of the camera that pointed at the hospital’s back entrance.

The first time she had done this, she had gotten lucky and found three units of blood in a small refrigerator in a room off a hallway. She’d spotted them and put them in her daypack and then walked out as quickly as she could without running. She thought they’d last her months and months, but blood didn’t have a shelf life of forever, and it started to taste off after only three weeks, so she’d drunk the last two in one sitting, feeling bloated like a tick but satisfied that at least she hadn’t killed anyone.

But now she was hungry again. If she got too hungry, she wouldn’t be able to control herself, and there would be another Ashlee. Or worse.

If she still lived at Wolfe Ranch, she wouldn’t be in this situation, a little voice told her. If she was still hanging out with those boys, blood wouldn’t be a problem. But Brenda had a sixth sense about some people. It had warned her about the P.E. teacher at her junior high school, long before she found out he’d been molesting girls in his private training sessions. It warned her about her sister’s boyfriend before he got arrested for dealing meth. And her sixth sense told her that she didn’t want to spend her days trapped in a house with a kid who smiled like that British kid. There was something not right about him.

At Wolfe Ranch, someone else had made all the decisions for her, and while she didn’t like those decisions, as long as she didn’t think too hard about where her blood came from, everything was easy. Now she made all her own decisions. And she constantly had to think hard about where her blood was going to come from.

Ten minutes later, the EMTs came out the back entrance for their smoke break, and she slipped inside when they weren’t looking. Brenda found the same room again, but someone was in it, so she walked past casually, as if she had gotten lost. Everyone seemed to be rushing here and there, looking at tablets or pushing carts. She walked as if she had somewhere to go, and she was wearing scrubs, so no one stopped her.

Thought you were off today; you just starting? a man said to a woman walking towards him. He was an ordinary-looking white guy, maybe in his thirties. Brown hair, maybe hazel eyes and wearing green scrubs. As she passed him, Brenda thought there was something about him that Brenda couldn’t put her finger on, some familiar way of moving. She wondered if she had met him before.

Hey, Leo, The woman wore light blue scrubs and had her curly dark hair pulled back into a bun. She stopped to chat with him, holding her tablet up to her chest like it was a notebook and she was chatting with another classmate in the halls between periods. My trip isn’t until next week. You on for another shift?

Just wrapping a few things up, the man said. Got a thing tonight.

Shift change. This was the perfect time to steal. Just like shoplifting lipstick at Walgreens.

Brenda circled back to the room where she had found the blood before, slipped inside as quickly as she could and began to search a refrigerator in the back. She pushed aside the useless bags of plasma and bottles of drugs, searching frantically.

You shouldn’t be here. It was that guy from the hallway. He had his arms folded, standing up with a wide stance as if to block the door.

Oh, excuse me, Brenda said, as if she’d accidentally walked into a bathroom stall someone else were using instead of having just been caught red-handed trying to steal human blood from a hospital. Never mind, I guess it wasn’t here.

She tried to edge past him, but the man grabbed for her. He almost caught her, but Brenda was quicker, running as fast as she could, dodging carts and ER staff and a gurney and someone shouting and flailing his arms while a cop watched, impassively. Brenda kept running until she saw the exit doors, hit them with the side of her body and kept going.

The man in the green scrubs was still behind her. How had he managed to run as fast as her? Brenda put on speed, dashing across the reserved parking lot to the multi-level parking garage. She’d parked her car on the second level. When she got close enough, she jumped as high as she could, catching the railing and pulling herself over. The man would have to take the stairs and she’d be in her car and on the road before he even knew where she’d parked.

Brenda looked to the left, trying to remember if she was near 2-F or 2-G when a sound behind her surprised her so much she dropped her keys.

The man in the green scrubs was pulling himself over the railing to the second level. Before she could run, he grabbed her arm. She stared at him, too stunned to speak.

Brenda, he said. What am I going to do with you? Stealing blood from the hospital? From my hospital? Do you have any idea what kind of trouble you could cause?

You’re a vampire, she said. Up this close, she could smell him. That’s what had seemed so familiar. He wasn’t human either. Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit. That’s how you knew I was there to steal blood, isn’t it? You had the idea first. Sorry, I didn’t know. Is that your turf or something? I’m new to this and I’m still trying to figure things out. Just let me go, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean anything.

The man peered closely at her. Your eyes are dilated. When did you drink blood last? Not recently, and not enough. You’re about two days from frenzying.

I could go three, she said defiantly, though she wasn’t sure it was true. I drank just a few weeks ago. I’m fine.

You’re not fine. If someone had come in with a gunshot wound and you smelled the blood, you would have frenzied in the hospital. I’ve seen it happen. You’ve endangered all of us.

Well what am I supposed to do? she said. I’m trying, okay? I don’t want to kill people anymore, but it’s hard! I wasn’t going to hurt anyone, just get some blood, like last time. I’m not in a gang or anything, it’s just me, and I’m doing the best I can.

Get in, he said. He unlocked the car next to them, then picked up her keys and put them in his pocket. You’re coming with me.

Chapter Two

Sergio Adamiak held the six pack of beer in his left hand, consciously holding it still by his side, trying not to show any of the nervousness he felt. Adamiak’s features came from a land east of Turkey, with a handsome jaw and a muscular frame. He’d become a vampire in his mid-thirties and had taken care of himself as much as he could afford. Adamiak stood next to Dante Eastwick, both dressed in cargo shorts and a tee shirt. Eastwick had a skinny build and a mop of dark hair, with pale skin that made a perfectly gothic contrast. Eastwick was young, only a few years of the blood, and born within a few years of Melbourne and her husband.

Relax, man. Alan said it was cool. Eastwick rapped on the door, a quick two knocks, followed by another one, louder.

This place feels haunted, Adamiak said, glancing over his shoulder. As soon as he’d stepped off the sidewalk, he felt unwelcome.

Eastwick shrugged. It’s the ward. It will be fine.

No, I can’t do this. This is wrong. This place is haunted. I don’t belong here. He turned and walked swiftly to the sidewalk.

I told you to leave the gun in the car, Eastwick said.

I did. Adamiak had finagled an invitation, desperately curious as to what Dayrunner Melbourne was like at home. She never entertained, according to everyone he talked to, and Eastwick was one of the few people who had been to her house. Apparently, Eastwick had become friends with Melbourne’s husband, bonding over a video game they both enjoyed. And then the favor he had done for Eastwick seemed like an opportune thing to bring up.

Eastwick looked at his phone. Hang on, I texted her.

Melbourne herself walked around the side of the house, wearing a thin white sundress that showed off a curvy body. She looked and smelled pregnant, though Adamiak was not dumb enough to ask for confirmation. Her dark hair was loose, falling in a gentle curl just past one muscular shoulder. She wore an emerald pendant on a thin gold chain, matching the engagement ring nestled next to her wedding band. Melbourne held a toddler on her hip, a fair-haired boy clutching a bottle. She brightened when she saw Eastwick, then her eyes caught sight of Adamiak and her features flickered briefly in unhappiness, which she smoothed into a bland smile.

Adamiak? You’re the friend Dante was going to bring? What a surprise, Melbourne said, pulling her son closer to herself.

She was on a first name basis with Eastwick? Adamiak looked at him with raised eyebrows.

Alan said it was okay to bring him, Eastwick said. But he can’t get in.

Well, a friend of yours is a friend of mine, Melbourne said. She dumped her son in Eastwick’s arms. The boy immediately turned back towards his mother, crying. She ignored him and walked closer to Adamiak.

To his surprise, Melbourne placed her hands on his shoulders and closed her eyes. Put your hands on my waist.

Adamiak put his hands on her waist, feeling equal parts awkward, confused, and pleased. Her smell distracted him, deeply feminine with that alluring not-quite-human undertone. He felt the taut muscle of her waist under his hands and resisted the urge to slide his fingers around the small of her back. Her eyes were closed. She’d put on makeup for the evening, a thin shimmer along her lid and mascara making the lashes thicker and longer. The red jewel she wore on her third eye was in place as always, so habitual on her it almost seemed like a birthmark rather than an affectation.

He waited, but she still didn’t move or say anything. How old was Melbourne? Thirty? Not yet a vampire, nor even an Initiate. The fact that she didn’t court a sire made her as fascinating as the co-ed who didn’t seem to date anyone. Surely Holzhausen would sire her at some point, after having invested so much in her education. Best not to wait too long. It was easier to be young forever than old forever, though he himself thought Melbourne would likely still be quite attractive for another twenty years at least. It would be harder for her to find hosts, but not impossible. If he gained enough power in the next few years, perhaps he could get a siring warrant and ... no. Best not to even think down that path.

And still they were standing here, with his hands on her waist and her hands on his shoulders, not moving. What was she doing? What did she expect of him? She was too close to him, touching him, with her scent caressing his nose. Melbourne?

Shh! She kept her eyes closed. I need to concentrate.

The boy had stopped whining for his mother and was busy trying to poke Eastwick in the eyes. Then, without warning, Melbourne took three steps back, leading Adamiak onto the grass. He felt a strange sensation, as if a membrane had passed across and through his body, and then he felt nothing.

She let go and stepped back to retrieve her son. Okay now? Less haunted?

Was that your ward?

Of course. If I had known you were coming, I could have done it in advance. Melbourne cooed at the boy, who put his fingers in his mouth. Come on back. Fenwick’s just started the second round of hamburgers.

Melbourne took the boy from Eastwick and carried him around the side of the house to the back yard. In the back, Melbourne’s husband was manning the grill wearing an apron that said Burger Master. He was a huge Viking-type guy with a face made hard to read by his bushy red-blond beard.

Kit? Gus needs to go to bed.

I was just going to do that when Dante got here, she said. He brought a friend. This is Sergio Adamiak. Adamiak, this is my husband, Alan Fenwick.

No way, is this the guy from Toronto? Fenwick hung the spatula on the side of the grill.

Adamiak had extended his hand to shake, but Fenwick ignored it and grabbed him a big hug, patting him aggressively on the back. Hey, man, good to finally meet you. Welcome! I can’t believe Kit hasn’t invited you before now.

She talks about me? Adamiak felt a flush of warmth in his chest.

The guy who showed up with the rescue car when she got kidnapped by that rogue? Yeah, she mentioned you. Said you had impressive people skills, that if you hadn’t been a vampire, you’d be Prime Minister by now for sure.

Wait, when was this? Eastwick asked, as he helped himself to a beer from the plastic tub under the picnic table.

The toddler reached up for his daddy, and without looking, Melbourne’s husband scooped him up and held him on his shoulder. I think it was a couple of years ago.

It was closer to three years. I was pregnant with Gus. And I wouldn’t say rescued, Melbourne said. I got out on my own.

Babe, he showed up with a gun and a getaway car and took you to a safe house. Isn’t that what you said? Sounds like a rescue to me, Fenwick said. You want a burger, Sergio? We already ate a couple of hours ago, but I’m cooking up more for the rest of Kit’s coworkers.

Melbourne had walked over next to her husband and was touching him on the small of the back. She looked at Adamiak the way a cat looks at a dog that may or may not be chained.

Fenwick waved his spatula. Why don’t you go get your bun ready? These are about to come off. If you see Nguyen, tell him I got him a veggie burger.

I’m gonna put Gus down, Melbourne said, and carried her son into the house.

Adamiak picked up a paper plate and started to prepare a bun. Two other vampires were there in line ahead of him. He knew them, but not very well, and they were talking about audio equipment, which was not a subject Adamiak thought he could comfortably converse on.

Now that he was in the back yard, he could see the empty frame of a house addition with a tarp strapped on by duct tape. From the back, the house looked more like a favela of blue tarps and plywood, ambitious renovation plans halted in the middle. The yard stretched out a long way, ending in a greenbelt in the back whose creek he could hear if he strained. They’d strung lights between the house and the corner of some playground equipment, and more solar lights lit the way to a raised bed full of herbs and vegetables. The yard was mostly grass, strewn with a few children’s toys.

After Melbourne’s husband gave him a burger, Adamiak chatted with Melbourne’s Guild sponsor and his human wife. The wife been an Initiate for a few years, but after a decade passed with no siring warrant on offer, she had withdrawn her name. What would it be like to know that the woman you loved would grow old and there was nothing you could do to stop it? But then, perhaps she would outlive him. What happened in Toronto could happen anywhere.

The burger was excellent, as were the beers. Melbourne stuck to seltzer water, confirming that she was expecting baby number three. Eastwick and Melbourne’s husband were discussing the nuances of a video game that Adamiak had never heard of, so Adamiak excused himself to go inside and use the bathroom.

The staked outline of a new foundation had been covered over with a tent of tarps, and Adamiak peeked inside. He saw lumber stacked up on sawhorses and a miter saw resting on a makeshift plywood table. To his surprise, there were also about thirty crows perched on the lumber.

They started sleeping in there because they’re afraid of an owl that’s been hanging around. Melbourne pulled the tarp out of his hands as if he had been peering at a baby in a crib and he might wake them. They’re wild animals. They’re not pets. They spook easily and I really like them so I don’t want them afraid.

Sorry, I was just looking for the bathroom, he said, sotto voce.

I’ll show you, she said, and led him in to a family room which barely had a path through the clutter and a dining room with boxes stacked almost to the ceiling.

Ah the joys of remodeling. How long has it been like this?

Too long. Some days I feel like we’re two newspaper subscriptions away from the Collyer brothers. Melbourne smiled briefly, but it fled. Nervousness flickered across her face. Even an untrained person could read her emotions.

Adamiak took her elbow as she tried to pass him. Melbourne? What’s wrong?

Truthfully? I didn’t really want to host a party, but Fenwick insisted. He said people wouldn’t care that our house was so messy, but it’s embarrassing.

You’re not angry that I’m here, are you?

No, why should I be? It’s a party.

I was afraid you disliked me.

Why would I dislike you? She seemed genuinely surprised. You’ve always been polite to me.

You never come to any of the events I’ve invited you to, and you haven’t invited me to anything.

Oh, that, well. I’ve been trying to keep work and home separate. She looked up at his face as if a sudden thought occurred to her. Do people think I’m rude? Do people think I dislike them?

I did. I thought you’d be angry with me for crashing your party. I wouldn’t have done it except ... He paused briefly, not sure if he wanted to share, but Melbourne was looking at him with those expressive eyes of hers. Well, I didn’t want to be alone tonight.

She frowned. What’s special about tonight?

It’s the anniversary of my sire’s death.

Elena. She touched his arm. I’m so sorry. I’ve heard rumors, but I never heard what happened.

I don’t even know exactly what happened.

Melbourne watched him intently, sympathetic and interested. Do you want to talk about it?

And to his surprise, he found that he did. It was like a storm that started out so small that we just kept waiting for it to blow over, but with every death it just got worse. The internecine war had been going on long enough that Elena had been openly longing for the relative peace and safety of her human life in Tsarist Russia. Friends and enemies disappeared nightly. We’d been hiding as much as possible, only going out to meet hosts, living off savings and wondering when we’d be safe again. One night they rounded us up and took us out to the forest.

Who?

The Toronto Guild Leader. One of the ones calling herself the Guild Leader anyway. She’d been Elena’s friend. Elena thought we were safe, so we went, thinking it was just a meeting. It was an execution. I never even figured out what Elena was supposed to have done. Maybe Elena had offended the wrong person and been sentenced to death. I’d been rounded up to die along with her, like the son of a dissident shipped off to Siberia to join in her fate.

When you think you are going to die, every moment imprints itself indelibly in your memory. He remembered kneeling on the damp earth, looking with horror at his final resting place. It was early summer. It had been a beautiful evening. He looked at Melbourne. He didn’t tell this story often. But she had such an open face, torn with pain as if she were there with him.

They shot us. I felt a bullet rip through my head. They’d already dug the graves, so they just filled it in on top of me.

They shot you in the head? she asked, wincing as if feeling the bullet herself.

"If a vampire takes care to get enough blood, and if he has his head intact and attached to his shoulders, he can survive almost anything. I’d been getting my pint a week and a little more. They’d meant to wreck my brain with a bullet, and let starvation and suffocation do the rest. They were sloppy.

I woke to the sound of dirt being shoveled onto my body. The bullet had exited through the front of my jaw, breaking half my teeth and shattering the bone into several pieces. I didn’t realize that until later. All I knew was that I was famished, in pain, and buried alive.

Jesus, she said, face a mask of pity and horror. They buried you alive. That’s horrible.

I felt like I was suffocating, but I didn’t die. I was packed under the earth with the damp mud pressing in all around me, clogging my nose, and the ruined mess that had once been my mouth. I couldn’t breathe. It was all he could do to keep from panicking, clawing the dirt away from his neck hole, from screaming with what was left of his vocal cords, but he knew if he did, they’d give him a second bullet, this one more fatal.

I waited for what must have been an hour, though it felt like a lifetime, with the heavy earth all around me. I couldn’t breathe. I waited until the sounds of footsteps and shoveling overhead ceased. Then I waited more. I counted my heartbeats as they slowed down, conserving blood.

I’ve heard of vampires going into hibernation for months at a time when buried in earth, Melbourne said.

Adamiak nodded. "My sire claimed she had crossed the ocean that way. But if I’d gone into hibernation in that grave, no one would come to save me. No one knew where I was.

"When it got quiet, I clawed my way free. It wasn’t easy. It wasn’t like digging a tunnel, because there wasn’t anywhere for the soil to go. I wriggled like an earthworm, and when that didn’t work, I swam through it, using all my strength to push the earth behind me. I just wanted to get out and breathe again.

"Later I told myself that if my sire had still been alive, she would have been able to dig herself out of her own grave, but that was something I told myself later. At the time, I was more animal than human, a ghastly creature with a maimed face and insatiable hunger, thinking of nothing but myself. I don’t know how I got home.

"It was nearly dawn when I climbed over the wooden fence into the tiny yard behind the house my sire and I shared. It hadn’t been safe to go there, but I was too starving to think clearly.

"She’d been in the middle of a knitting project, and she’d left it on the table, as though she’d come back to it as soon as she worked over her difficulties with the Guild Leader. A Russian woman should have known better. She had survived tsars and the revolution. But no one wants to believe that her friend will kill her and throw her body in a grave on flimsy evidence.

"We had eight pints of blood in the basement refrigerator, a safety cache, constantly replenished, which should have been enough to last each of us a month comfortably, or two months if we took care not to stress ourselves. I drank half of it that dawn, pouring it slowly, carefully down my throat, unable to swallow with my ruined jaw. The pain of being shot was nothing compared to the pins and needles as my body regrew teeth and bones.

I didn’t sleep well for weeks afterward, terrified that any moment the door would break in and human goons would drag me out into the sunlight. Elena had prepared me well for it. She’d insisted we keep our assets liquid, our bags packed, our hosts bribed. She’d worked out a safe house for the two of us, several routes out of town, hiding places.

And you didn’t hear from her? Melbourne asked softly.

"She had ordered me not to. ‘If you think I’m dead, Sergio, don’t come back for me. Just go,’ she’d said. ‘If I’m alive, I’ll find you.’ I left half the blood for her, even though I desperately needed it. I had to believe there was a chance. I left her the key. I didn’t really think I’d see her again, but I kept hoping.

We thought if we didn’t play the games, we’d be safe. That was wrong. Not playing is not an option. Pretending it doesn’t matter is not an option. Pretending you’re neutral is not an option. You need friends that have your back. Because unlike those television shows, you don’t get evicted or voted off the island, you get killed. You get killed, Melbourne. Like all the others. His voice cracked. Adamiak didn’t realize his hands were shaking until Melbourne reached over and placed her hand on his.

Melbourne met his eyes and squeezed. You’re safe here.

I thought so in Toronto, Melbourne. Wars happen. Guilds turn over. Maybe it won’t happen in your lifetime, but chances are, it will. Keep Holzhausen in power, Melbourne. Please, for all our sakes. Keep him in power.

What makes you think I can do anything? Her face began to close up, as if she were being conned and were trying to figure out where the scam was, the angle. I’m only a human.

Don’t underestimate yourself, Melbourne. You are not realizing your full potential. Don’t frown at me, I’m serious. I want to see you succeed. Holzhausen may be teaching you magic, but he’s not teaching you the social game. You need a tutor. If not me, then someone shrewd. Like Councilman Albers, for example. She’s been friendly to you. I’ve heard her.

I have been warned to avoid her specifically.

Why?

Every time I talk to her, I feel like I’ve accidentally revealed state secrets without meaning to. She’s shrewd. She’s clever. She’s been doing Machiavellian since before my great grandpa first got drunk. You don’t get in the ring with someone that far above your weight class. She’ll learn things about me that I don’t even mean to tell. I know I have a problem with a shitty poker face. It’s better to keep my distance. Knowledge is power.

Yet you invited her spy to your party.

Who? Melbourne asked, face showing genuine surprise when he told her.

See what I mean? Conversation goes both ways. You can learn things too. She can’t ask questions without revealing things, and you’re not going to learn what’s really happening staying at home, Adamiak said. You’re never going to cultivate allies unless you put some effort into your relationships. I never see you at the Guild events.

I went to the ball.

I mean the unofficial ones. The midnight kaffeeklatsches. The daytime sleepovers. No one sees you socially. You hardly even have any friends in the Guild. Eastwick seems to be your token Guild friend, the guy you invite over so you can pretend you have nothing against us. You’re isolated. You have a few allies, but if you turn down too many invitations, the invitations will stop coming.

You’re not the first person to try to get to Holzhausen through me. It won’t work. I have no hold over him.

Adamiak stared at her face for a long second. Why was she so stubborn? If you are loyal to him, your power is his power. I’ve seen how he treats you. He treats you like you’re a promising junior officer under his command. You are his protégé. He wants you to succeed. Your success will strengthen him.

She closed her mouth, and the muscles around her eyes tightened, as though she wasn’t sure what he was saying but he had surprised her enough that she would listen.

He’s not a likeable guy, Adamiak said. But you’re likeable. Just think about how much more stable his tenure would be if his friendly, approachable Dayrunner were seen at parties now and again, making small talk and learning the lay of the land. People are curious about you. People want to know more about you. They want to like you. They want to befriend you. You have nothing to lose. They will talk about you either way, but if you’re there you have some control over the narrative.

She closed her mouth and tilted her head back the tiniest bit, like an animal deciding if the food in front of it was safe or trapped. I will think about what you’ve told me.

He closed his eyes in relief. That’s all I ask.

Melbourne opened a door and flicked on the light. Bathroom’s all yours. She turned and left.

When Adamiak went back outside he was invited to play horseshoes with a leggy young woman with a mass of red curls. Despite the fact that the girl was swaying and tipsy, she defeated him handily. A vampire wearing hot pink athleisure wear, with folded arms and a smirk, had been offering sideline trash talk with every missed toss.

Woo! In your face! the redhead said, ringing a horseshoe. Score is seventeen to three.

Avenge me, Adamiak said, handing his horseshoes to the pink-clad vampire. I’m going to chat with our hosts.

Adamiak intercepted Melbourne when she was rummaging around in the ice water under the picnic table. When she turned and saw him, she all but yelped.

I scare you, he said, and gave a surprised laugh.

Why is that funny? She opened her soda with an opener dangling from a chain at the end of the picnic table.

Because it’s kind of ironic, that you’re scared of me.

Why?

Because you scare the shit out of most of the Guild, including me.

Melbourne frowned. Her face said that sounded like bullshit.

It’s not bullshit.

Can you read minds? she asked, as if this were a thing that people did. She took a seat on the picnic table bench facing out.

Can I—what? No.

What, then? You do that to people. It’s not just me. You finish people’s sentences.

I’m really good at reading people. I studied facial expressions from a guy who used to work for the CSIS. He sat next to her. "Can I have one of those IPAs?

I don’t know what CSIS means. She reached into the ice water and pulled out a bottle for him.

Like the CIA. A spook, Adamiak explained. And you’re really expressive, so you’re really easy to read.

Kit glared at him. Yeah, I’ve been told I should learn to hide that.

No, it’s not a bad thing. It’s part of what makes you seem trustworthy. He tried to twist off the cap and ended up just hurting his hand.

She handed him the bottle opener I thought you said you were scared of me.

I’m scared of everyone, Adamiak said. I have nightmares. Even now. I wake up convinced someone has kicked down my door to drag me outside. I think I hear my sire calling for me, even though I know she’s dead. I barely escaped with my life. I lost a lot of friends who weren’t fast enough or lucky enough.

I’m sorry, Kit said. She held out her hand for the bottlecap.

You have stakes on you right now, don’t you? And this place probably reeks of magic, but I wouldn’t even know. The stories I hear about you make you sound like Van Helsing’s scary little sister. I think some of them are even true. He took another pull of the beer.

Why are you here then? Every time I’ve turned around, I’ve seen you looking at me. It makes me nervous, not knowing what your motivations are.

I’m playing the long game, Melbourne. I’m a shameless social climber; I need to cultivate every ally I can, especially the strong ones. Maybe a hundred years from now I’ll be in a bind and you’ll be the only one who can save me.

Melbourne looked at him, and he knew the next words out of her mouth would be a lie. I’ll be dead in a hundred years. I’m human.

He paused, watching her face. What was she lying about? The human part? There was that rumor about her blood poisoning Fain, which he’d never heard was possible. And all the other rumors. The fact that this place felt haunted until she welcomed him. Barely thirty years old, a mother of two, a happy wife in suburbia, and she was deep with mysteries. He gave her another two seconds of pause, hoping to silence her into explaining, but she didn’t take the bait. Oh, yeah, well. I forget. I think of you as one of us.

You talk like an old guy.

How do you know I’m not?

You’re eighteen years of the blood. Chronologically, you’re probably younger than my dad.

How the hell do you know that? Who told you?

She shrugged. Party trick.

I’m still older than you, he said. He meant it to sound suave, wise, but it sounded stupid as soon as the words left his mouth.

True, she said. She leaned back against the picnic table, elbows resting on either side.

Why don’t you smell completely human?

I don’t? Melbourne asked.

A human man approached, wearing jeans and a tee shirt with a faded logo of a place called the Pygg and Wassail. He was a few years older than Melbourne, a bit softer in the middle, with a receding hairline. Hey, Kit, are you going to come out as fey now? First you actually have people over, and now you confess the secret everyone guessed years ago. Big week for you, Kit.

Oh, this is my brother, James Melbourne, Melbourne said. James, this is Sergio Adamiak, a guy from work, obviously. He moved here from Canada a couple years ago.

Are you going to dodge my question? Adamiak asked.

I totally believe you now about the spook training, Kit said. What is this, an interrogation?

People have been commenting on her being fey for years, James said, bringing a folding chair towards them so he could sit and face them. It doesn’t run in the family, so it must be something she picked up along the way.

How does one pick up a fey infection? Melbourne asked. When would that have happened?

Eastwick had turned and was approaching from the other side of the yard. Initiate Mitchell was with him. He nodded at her and she collected chairs for them.

Like when you went to the Realm of the Faerie, James said, and Melbourne’s face flickered in annoyance.

Is that a real place? Adamiak asked.

It’s real, James said. I’ve met people from there. Immigrants.

I’m not one of them, Melbourne said. They can feed vampires safely. I think they can even become vampires.

Eastwick