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On Tuesdays, Leah went to the public library.

About ten years before, the public library policies had been altered, so that books were no longer checked out, but rather were available to be read in the building. As the government had lost its grip on society, its implementations – such as public libraries – began to suffer from disrespect. Books were rarely returned. Fines were basically never paid. So, the new library.

Leah loved to read, but spending five bucks on a paperback she’d be finished with in three hours was a waste of money she couldn’t bring herself to make. By taking the mid-district bus, however, she was only out two dollars and was downtown for the day. Generally she’d have lunch at one of the sub sandwich vendors, occasionally at a sit-down café if she’d had a particularly good week. Often she didn’t find the time to eat on Mondays, her day at Elaine’s, so she allowed herself the indulgence of a real meal Tuesday.

Her day would be cut short by the trip to Nurbury. Usually she stayed downtown until nightfall, savoring every hour of the expense of the trip. Her urge to hoard away her money kept her from going more than once a week, so she liked the experience to last. However, to get to Selena’s well before nightfall, she’d need to head in that direction by six. This time of year, Trahltyx would be consumed by night just before eight thirty.

Leah didn’t take her duffel bag. It wouldn’t be allowed in the library and she didn’t want to replace it if someone lifted it from outside. Besides, she’d only wished for the change of clothes once while she’d been downtown, and it had been when a bus had sprayed her with muddy rainwater from the curbside. Nothing she couldn’t tolerate. She wore loose jeans with deep pockets and carefully counted fifteen ones into them from her cash shoe box in the corner of the closet. Annie slept, thankfully, through her exit. She closed the closet door and drank a glass of water before letting herself out of the apartment.

It was six am, early for cabs, but the street was busy enough to supply a few nonetheless. Leah settled in the backseat, huddling in her sweatshirt against the cold. It was always like this in the early mornings, and few drivers wanted to wear out the heating systems in their cabs, apparently. She was used to a chilly ride downtown, but at least little to no traffic made it a fairly quick journey.

The taxi deposited her in the heart of the downtown – a weary park that was basically a cracked sidewalk, a mossy fountain, and three benches riddled with graffiti. During the day, however, there wasn’t a place safer than this. Its multitude of public buildings deterred the less than law-abiding from braving the sunlit streets.
The library was only a few blocks from the bus stop. Leah checked her pocket for the lump of money as she walked toward the squat cement building, passing the dim interiors of stores that hadn’t opened for the day, or buildings that were between renters. She’d once entertained the idea of opening some sort of an establishment here, in this safe region that seemed to be caught up in an ongoing dream of what yesteryear had been. Sometimes Leah likened downtown Trahl to a museum of the twentieth century United States, full of people pretending times hadn’t changed.

The library was an old concrete building that wasn’t totally unlike the Lodge. Its doors were glass, however, and there was no hallway on their other side. Instead, bookshelves sprung directly from that point on, in orderly rows all the way to the far wall. Volunteers were few and far between, so there was no particular order to the shelves any more. There weren’t people enough with the time and willingness to file them. Instead, books were put back where there was a crack or the borrower happened to pass by. Finding something specific was impossible, but the variety was amusing. The first three consecutive titles Leah saw were The Nature of African Crocodiles, Wuthering Heights, and Gray’s Anatomy. She pulled Wuthering Heights and walked down the aisle, sidestepping around a few book browsers, and turned the corner into the reading area. All it really consisted of were donated armchairs and overstuffed couches. Leah chose one with faded blue and pink cherry upholstery and opened the book.

“Bronte, eh? That’s a classic.”

Leah looked up. The voice had been blatantly accented. British, she thought, but she’d never met any one from another country before, and barely watched television. Still, she was fairly sure. The British speaker probably wasn’t taller than her, but had a subtle physical presence that put her on guard. His face was unremarkable, though chiseled, but his eyes, though a neutral muddy brown, commanded attention. She checked, but there was no paranormal energy to him whatsoever. All the presence he possessed was human, purely. In some ways, that impressed Leah more than something else might have.

“By the standards of some.” She’d read a few chapters; time always passed quickly for her here. Leah set the book aside. The style of writing was interesting, the imagery vivid. She was enjoying it, but the classification of specific texts as “classic” or “monumental” always irritated her. The purpose of all books was to entertain, and some of the most purely entertaining genres were scoffed at for quality. She didn’t remark on any of this, however, looking up at him in patient silence instead.

He sat at a respectful distance: on the other end of the faded cherry couch. He was wearing subtly expensive clothing. No labels or specific fabrics stood out, it was just the fit of things. They fit too purposefully well to be off brand, clinging in the right places and hanging unhampered in others.

“You come here a lot,” he said. It definitely wasn’t a question, so Leah thought a shrug would suffice. It seemed to. He nodded to himself for a moment, and then looked back up at her again, as though he’d made some sort of a decision.

“Subtlety aside, I came here looking for you, specifically.”

Leah didn’t stir, although in the back of her mind, apprehension and irritation warred for dominance. Being blatantly sought out by a stranger was never a safe circumstance, but she was also getting tired of it. Twice in two days? And she’d always prided herself on being nondescript, out of the accusing eye of the masses.

“Are you sure you haven’t made a mistake?” Leah expected him to give her full name, including middle initial, or something that could similarly prove he’d done a complete background check.

“I’m sure.”

“Why?” Leah set the book aside and met his gaze unflinching. There really was no call to be overly nervous. He did have her cornered, but at least she didn’t absorb anything particularly threatening from him, and a cautious glance at his foremost thoughts revealed no affiliation with her new friend on the police force.

“I was told by a friend that you’re the most sensitive mind in Trahltyx. Maybe the most sensitive mind that there is.”

Leah gave him a sideways look. She was sensitive, as sensitive as any one she’d met but Selena. However, she didn’t go around comparing herself to every sensitive mind she met, at least not out loud. How any word of her would have traveled to this strange foreign man was beyond her.

“I think your friend was wrong – or you have me confused with someone else.”

“No. You see, I’m not without sensitivity, myself.”

Leah’s brows rose. She had been too overwhelmed by realizing how powerful of a mind he was to notice whether or not there had been a degree of sensitivity, as well. She nudged at him, and he nudged back. A tiny spark of ability, she acknowledged, but it was mastered by its possessor. There was respectability in those who knew their skills well, however limited those skills were.

“No one knows the extent of my sensitivity but me,” she retorted, which wasn’t completely true. She’d left herself open enough to Elaine on occasion that she might have an idea, and Leah didn’t put anything past Selena. However, she also trusted Selena unquestioningly. She knew that her friend wouldn’t sell her out to any one, let alone a random Englishman.

“That may be true, but there are those who have experience enough to confidently say you’re better than any one else around here.” He made a dismissive gesture. “It’s unimportant, anyway. What’s significant is that I would like to offer to hire you for whatever amount of ability you do have.”

Leah’s ears pricked, but her suspicions were not assuaged. “Yes?”

“I’m afraid that it would be remiss of me to give you any details without being confident in your loyalty. Therefore, you’ll have to agree before I share with you what specifically I’ll require of you.”

Leah arched a brow. “I don’t blindly commit myself for any amount of money, sir,” she said evenly.

“Any amount?”

Leah didn’t say anything. He reached into the pocket of his blazer and produced a bundle of cash, which he tossed onto the scarred coffee table between them with no pretense of secrecy. Leah saw a nearby woman’s eyes widen in lust as she took in the girth of the wad.

“A thousand dollars up front. Thirty-five hundred upon completion. Ten days of work.”

Leah folded her arms, finally tearing her gaze away from the money. She’d never had money like that before. It was tempting. But it wasn’t any more tempting than Jimmy’s attempts to persuade her to do less legal tasks in his employ, or the desperate plea of the cop’s brother the night before. She had some values she wouldn’t compromise, even for a virtual small fortune like what was offered.

“I don’t do illegal work,” she said simply.

He folded his arms, whether to mimic her or because they happened to share a common stubborn mannerism, Leah didn’t know.

“You assume it’s illegal?”

“You being so hesitant to give me any details, and you being so ready and willing to fork over forty-five hundred dollars, yes, I do assume it’s illegal.”

He nodded thoughtfully at that. “And if it were perfectly legal?”

Leah’s eyes narrowed. “It’s not.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Legal jobs don’t pay nearly so well.”

“I am not paying for a willingness to break the law, miss. I am paying for your very unique abilities.” He spoke matter-of-factly, without glancing down at the money on the table. Leah looked for him, fingers practically itching to reach for it. But she resisted.

“I’m not interested.” She stood up, dropping her book on the table next to the money. “I’m sure you won’t have any problems finding someone else, however.”

Leah was somewhat surprised that she managed to maneuver her way out of that situation unscathed. Someone cunning enough to track her down without benefit of a commonly used last name or an address would seem unlikely to be such a graceful loser, but she chose not to look the relative gift horse in the mouth. Instead she made her mistake with some regret. She’d been afforded very little time in the library. Not that it really mattered, anyway. She had her appointment with Selena to make, after all.

Reminded of this commitment, and still eager to have her mind put at ease by whatever answers Selena could provide, Leah waited in line at the sub sandwich vendor, absently watching the people milling around the sidewalk in the vicinity. One group that especially caught her eye was a woman with clearly artificial ash blond hair, a khaki skirt and a wrinkled blue pearl-snap shirt, herding a brood of brunette children across the street. There were two little brunette girls and a little brunette boy, all dressed similarly to their mother and all emitting high pitched screams. As they passed Leah absorbed their thoughts like someone else might inhale the scent of fresh bread while passing a bakery. Children were like that, almost always. They didn’t suppress their thoughts and feelings enough to keep them out of Leah’s immediate senses.

The two daughters were tired and grumpy, the boy had just been denied a toy he’d spotted through a store window. Out of simple curiosity Leah probed gently into the mind of the mother. She was clearly the sort of non-confrontational, sweet-natured, shallow woman who was too flustered by the conduct of her children to put two thoughts together toward addressing it. The sounds of the squealing children became a part of the general noise of the street as they turned the corner on the sidewalk.

“What can I get you, ma’am?” The question was issued without any vestige of genuine interest by the uniformed man on the other side of the sandwich counter.

“Turkey on white,” Leah said automatically. It was the cheapest bread, though not the cheapest meat. She didn’t like chicken. Condiments and vegetables were an added cost. He didn’t question her simplistic request, but put the sandwich together in a matter of seconds and passed it, untidily wrapped, into her waiting hands without asking for money. Leah fished a wrinkled five dollar bill out of her front pocket and held it out to him uncertainly.

“Oh, shit, yeah. I forgot. Thanks.” He smiled sheepishly and took the money, a sincere rift in his previous zombie demeanor. She was given twenty-three cents change. Stowing this in her pocket, Leah sank her teeth slowly into the sandwich as she walked away. She forced herself to chew slowly, wanting to close her eyes to better immerse herself in the glory of taste and substance on her tongue.

“Excuse me, miss,” an older woman said tartly, interrupting her reverie by elbowing by. Leah had accidentally come to a standstill outside the open doors of a retail clothing store. She removed herself from the stream of traffic, swallowing. Her stomach stirred to life like an animal newly arisen from a two month hibernation, growling audibly. Leah obediently took another bite, walking normally toward the bus stop, blending into the crowds nicely in her normal collared polo shirt and blue jeans. She didn’t like to think about how nice it was to seem normal.

Half of the sandwich was gone by the time she’d settled into a bus seat, gazing out the window as the big vehicle pulled away from the curb. A kid, probably around twelve, dropped into the seat beside her. She had a yellow pony tail with dark brunette roots and both eyebrows were pierced in three places. She was noisily chewing gum. Leah looked at her out of the corner of her eye for a while.

“How’d you get your hair that color?”

The girl turned to her. There was a ring in her left nostril, too, that Leah hadn’t been able to see from the other angle. She had one blue and one brown eye – natural or not, Leah couldn’t tell for sure.

“It’s just that’s it’s so dark. It couldn’t have been just one round of bleach.”

The girl popped her gum. “No. It took three. Turned my hair to shit.” She fingered a few straw-colored tresses demonstratively. They did seem a little synthetic.

“You’re letting it grow out?”

“I’m shaving my head in a month. That’s when I’ll turn sixteen, and I’ll be able to dance at the Meet.” She spoke nonchalantly, but her chin lifted slightly as she spoke. The Meet was a south strip club that featured the younger dancers. Leah could have glanced at her mind, but didn’t need to in order to be certain she wasn’t turning sixteen in a month.

“That’s too bad. The natural color would look good on you.”

The girl gave her a strange look and then stared out across the bus, clearly hoping something else would catch her attention. So much for trying to be normal. Leah rested her forehead against the bus’s dirty window, watching the mid district become the south. The bus stopped four blocks from Nurbury. She was the only passenger to get off there.

The short walk was unusually pleasant. The temperate weather Trahltyx had been experiencing was distinctly uncharacteristic. This day was especially sunny, so that on the sidewalk, the sweater was almost too warm. Leah rolled the sleeves up to her elbow, stepping onto the main path of Nurbury.

*

The atmosphere was much different during the day. Without the guard fires in front of the doors of each building, the shabbiness of it all was illuminated. In direct light, it seemed more like rows of shacks than a network of mysterious teakettles. There was markedly less traffic as well. The people Leah did see seemed to be for the most part residents, going about the daily tasks of maintaining their small plots of land. Selena was nowhere in sight, and her door was closed.

Leah mounted the stairs and knocked softly on the door. After maybe a minute, she grew restless. Was Selena gone? She’d never known the woman to abandon an appointment. She was ready to back down the stairs when the door opened, revealing Selena herself. She was already smiling, obviously anticipating who would be on the other side of the door.

“Leah. Come in.”

Leah walked past her through the door, drawing up short when she saw that two men already sat in chairs in the center of the room. There were two empty chairs – one, she assumed, for Selena, and one for herself. She hesitated for a moment, then sat down in the seat Selena indicated.

The men were unremarkable, both wearing casual attire, with plain features. One wore wire-rimmed glasses. One had merging eyebrows. They both faced her with polite smiles.

“Leah, these men are vampire hunters.”

Leah blinked. If any of the myths of vampire hunters she’d heard were true, a hunter was a dangerous, inhuman individual. The fact that Selena had invited two of them into her home seemed uncharacteristically unwise. Leah said nothing, but she did nod, attempting to maintain a clear expression.

“I have discussed with them what you experienced earlier today. They feel that by talking with you themselves, they might unveil information that will help them locate their quarry.”

Leah nodded again, even though her instincts were storming inside, pleading with her to run from here as fast as she could. Instead she remained rooted to the floor, silent, her trust in Selena never tried more intensely.

“Leah, do you know anything else that might be related to these vampires?” It was the one with the glasses, in a steady, normal voice. She was startled by the directness of his question. She glanced at Selena, who nodded.

“Maybe,” Leah allowed, swallowing. “My roommate came back the day before from…work…with bites. I only saw one, but she’d been paid much more than her regular fees. And the day that I saw the…thing…she said that the clients had broken into the apartment. She hid in the closet until they went away.”

The twin expressions of civility, unmarked by any particular degree of interest, remained unchanged. The same man spoke again.

“The vampire energy Selena recognized in your memory was not an imitator or a servant, and as you may already know, only those two varieties of beasts feed by taking blood from a human being.” Still, he seemed not to be second guessing the accuracy of her assumption. He paused thoughtfully. “And, while it is common for servants to band together, they are very rarely joined by the more powerful of their kind.”

“It is also strange that your roommate was unharmed. Why would a creature come to the apartment for no reason beyond entering and exiting? Nothing was taken?” This was said by the other hunter, whose voice was vaguely nasal.

“Nothing was missing,” Leah confirmed. They had too few things in the apartment not to notice if something disappeared.

“You said she hid in a closet?” The second hunter asked, his expression skeptical. At this moment, Selena gently intervened.

“Was it your closet, Leah?”

Leah nodded, glancing at Selena in surprise. The sorceress put a quelling hand on her shoulder, addressing the hunters this time.

“Leah’s bedroom is a closet in Annie’s apartment.”

The first sign of emotion crossed the pair of faces, and Leah was surprised and frustrated by it.

“What does it matter?”

“Most vampires cannot enter the home of a true mind. That would explain why the…closet…was a successful hiding place for your roommate, Leah.”

This matter-of-fact indication that the creature had, in fact, been there to hurt Annie, lapsed Leah into a disturbed silence. Meanwhile, the discourse continued between Selena and the hunters.

“Vampires have been known to sometimes travel in small clusters, made up of several servants in service of one or two imitators,” merging eyebrows reminded his coworker.

“Yes, but the energy was distinctly pure,” Selena interrupted quietly. “It was not an imitator.”

“The Aged do not associate themselves with the lower sects,” the hunter insisted. “You must have been mistaken.”

“Moreover, if this girl is a strong mind” – at this point glasses gave Leah a significant, skeptical look – “she would not have recognized the vampire’s energy when she encountered it.”

Leah was moved to interrupt. “What do you mean, if I’m a strong mind?”

The hunters blinked at her. “With respect, miss, we have no way of gauging your mental abilities.”

Leah was stunned. “You hunt supernatural creatures, and you have no sensitivity?” She hadn’t noticed before. Selena had closed the door behind her.

“It seems you are truly ignorant of vampire nature,” glasses said. “They are, it’s true, a mystery to most. Vampires exist because they avoid notice, and have for thousands of years. They are imbued with a powerful brand of masking energy, that makes them seem perfectly normal to any human.”

“Generally, a strong mind is even more completely deceived. A strong mind being nothing but a human with an abnormal degree of mental control, the vampire masking energy is even more intense,” single eyebrow supplemented. “A strong mind is a handicap, not an advantage, in seeking and destroying vampires.”

“She is a strong mind,” Selena said firmly, an edge of irritation in her tone. “I’ve never given either of you any reason to doubt my knowledge – or honesty – of such things.”

Glasses nodded. “That is true, Selena. We would certainly not have traveled here so quickly at the request of any one else. But forgive us, we struggle with how to make sense of this situation, if indeed all you have imparted is fact.”

“There have been no instances of vampires with incomplete masking energy? Or strong minds strangely immune to the masking energy altogether?” Selena seemed to lack her full composure for the first time in Leah’s memory.

“Not to our knowledge,” glasses said.

“Selena,” Leah said suddenly, struck by a thought. “You’re a strong mind, and you recognized the vampire energy. Which means you must have sensed it before, yourself, despite your strong mind.”

Selena shook her head. “You forget, Leah, that I have in part jeopardized my ties to the human powers by involving myself in the inhuman arts.” Sorcery, she meant, which toyed with energy that was accessible to all beings, not just mankind. “But you are rooted in human energy. That is the difference between us.”

“It is…well, there was…” glasses began, but fell silent. Eyebrows looked at him, somewhat sharply.

“That’s true. If you mean the old tales…”

“Gentlemen?” Selena probed delicately.

“Apologies, Selena. We both seem to have just recalled a tale in a collection informally labeled ‘old tales,’ which contain some of the earliest documentation of supernatural creatures interacting with humans. In AD 97, there was a story of a psychic woman, a village shaman of sorts, who was often called upon to declare the guilt or innocence of imprisoned persons accused as vampires. Most historians would dismiss this sort of story as an improvable series of accusations, but the woman is often mentioned in the notebooks of Jean Le Craut, a French nobleman well aware of the existence of supernatural beings. He verified her as a strong mind and trusted her impression of the vampire energy.”

“Another occurrence was in 1092,” eyebrows added. “There was a young girl who found lost children by dreaming of them near three wells, which some of the village people were familiar with. She later identified a murderer, again in a ‘dream.’ She was probably a strong mind, though there’s always a chance she just made fortunate guesses. She was convinced she saw a creature drawing the spirit out of her older sister, and wouldn’t be silenced.”

“Until she was killed, reportedly by animals,” glasses added, with none of the emotion that might have tainted these words were they not spoken with the crisp distance of a historian. “There was something very ritualistic about the pattern of bites. It was almost certainly a servant feeding.”

“Again, these records were from the Le Craut family notebooks, a family that would eventually disappear entirely.”

“Murdered by the Aged, it is assumed.” This time glasses’ voice was grim.

“Two…legends? Written a thousand years ago?” Amazed, Leah looked between them. “This is what you base your knowledge of vampires on?”

“Records of vampires abound in early collections,” eyebrows said simply. “In an age of less structure and far less widespread education, concealment was a non-issue for the beings. But now, they lurk far more effectively, even in fallen countries like these.”

This made some sense. Leah knew that part of the reason why Trahl and other cities of the near-anarchy that was the US were rich with lycanthropes, strong minds, and sorcerers was its very lawlessness. In a more structured, closely monitored society, their presence wouldn’t be so easy to hide.

“Many share your same brand of disbelief, but toward the lycanthropes, rather than the vampires,” glasses said, as though the fact amused him. Leah considered that. Thinking about it made her smile uncertainly.

“There are nearly as many lycanthropes as there are humans in Trahl.”

“That is true, but beyond the city, many are convinced that lycanthropes are a myth. And beyond this country, the public often fails to be aware that even the myth exists.” He adjusted the glasses; not, Leah thought, because they needed it, but in a nervous gesture. “There are even those who are people of Trahltyx who live in willful ignorance of the lycanthropes’ presence.”

Leah knew that was a fact. She even understood why. She was afraid of her world, in a way. If she could live apart from that fear, apart from that world, and convince herself that it didn’t really exist, wouldn’t she want to?

Reading her understanding in her expression, glasses nodded to himself. “In the same way, we are largely ignorant of vampires. There are fewer of them, and they are much more careful to hide themselves. They know that they would threaten those who understand them even more than the normal humans that would not.”

Leah cringed a little at the phrase “normal humans.” She noticed Selena’s eyes narrowing in her peripheral vision. The polite term for a human with no psychic or other paranormal leanings was unblessed, not normal. Of course, Leah understood why that was a label that was less flattering to two distinctly unblessed individuals. Still, the hunters were addressing two “abnormal” women. Where were their good manners?

“Why would they frighten us more?” Leah put a subtle emphasis on the word “us,” looking between the two men.

“A vampire exists by leeching energy from another being,” Selena said, moving closer to Leah and putting a hand on her shoulder. Leah hadn’t realized how deeply the hunters’ offhand barb had offended the sorceress until that moment. They remained outwardly oblivious to the effect of their words, and Selena continued. “For the imitators, the energy is drawn through the blood of other creatures – humans most commonly. But the Aged feed on the energy, not the blood, and they generally believe they are above mingling their spirits with the unblessed.”

Her voice was quiet, but the significance of the last phrase was certainly not lost on any one in the room. Glasses and eyebrows exchanged a look, whereupon the latter cleared his throat.

“Apologies, Selena. You know we truly respect the gifts of you and yours.”

Selena said nothing, but Leah saw this as a new kind of insult. To lump together all people who were blessed as though they were variations of the same degeneration from “normal” was bigoted, especially for individuals who knew much of the diversity of the paranormal abilities. A psychic was as completely different in design and the bounty of her gifts from a sorceress as a doctor was from a cryptographer. Both powerful in their own ways, but vastly different in their skills. To say nothing of the entirely different brand of energy worn by a lycanthrope…or, apparently, a vampire.

Leah studied these men, these men who were hunters. She knew that hunters destroyed dangerous paranormal beings, either because they were a part of an ancient league of humans sworn to protect the safety of the unblessed, or because they were paid mercenaries. These men apparently specialized in vampires. They killed any they encountered – or gave their all to the attempt. If people like Selena and Leah were so much like the quarry they were devoted to destroying, what value did they place on any “abnormal” life?

Chilled, Leah was thankful for the warm weight of Selena’s hand. She wasn’t sure what she would have done if she’d been seated alone when she came to this realization.

“I accept your…apology,” Selena said delicately, a cold edge to her voice suggesting that this was not completely true. “I will be very frank with you, gentlemen. We three know that you cannot destroy an Aged.”

Glasses frowned, but it was, apparently, no longer his turn to speak. “That may be true, Selena, but we are not certain of it. Our weapons have never been pitted against an Aged.”

Selena released Leah’s shoulder, returning to her own chair. She sat in one fluid movement, a small, wry smile on her lips. “I admire your bravery, but you know your prey too well to underestimate them so greatly.”

Glasses folded his arms, his expression suddenly stony. “If you are so sure that we are here in vain, Selena, why were we summoned?”

Selena folded her hands slowly in her lap, her eyes on her intertwined fingers. “There are many ways to destroy a paranormal being, gentlemen. You have bespelled weaponry, but exercise no magic of your own.”

Eyebrows blinked at her, the dark line of his bushy brow crowding his eyes in what was almost a glower. “You know very well that the purity of our bodies keeps us from being puppets in the hands of even an imitator, let alone a nearby Aged. We can hide from them, to a point, and they cannot bewitch us instantly. Our success depends on having no magic in our veins.”

“Purity?” Selena’s voice was as close to rude as Leah had ever heard it. She turned wide eyes on the woman she thought of as her mentor, shocked and fascinated to hear what she might say next. “You are dark hunters, and well you know it.”

Leah didn’t understand what difference there was between a dark hunter and any other hunter, but in that moment she was too startled to even think of asking. Glasses and eyebrows now seemed downright hostile. Their human auras were alight with contained anger, making their shapes spark and shift before Leah’s eyes. She looked away from them like an unblessed would look away from the bright sun through unshielded eyes.

“You have distanced yourself from whatever potential you might have had permanently, sacrificed a portion of your humanity to do your work.” Selena’s expression was cold and fixed on them. “Do not speak of purity as though I am tainted.”

Leah expected them to have the grace to look abashed, but while the anger did fade to a degree, their expressions were otherwise empty. It was as though they could experience only one emotion at a time.

“If there was unity among humans, we would have a better chance of subduing the dark side of the paranormal energies.” Glasses said this, in a clipped voice like an impatient adult trying to teach a child a lesson she’s refused to learn before.

Selena was very still; dangerously still. Leah had never been afraid of the gentle sorceress before, but she could see and feel the other woman’s anger, her disdain, and beneath it all, a sort of resigned sadness. It was a strange combination of feelings, one she hadn’t ever seen the like of before. She could always leave it to Selena to show her something completely new.

“If all humans would understand what we are, and would allow themselves to realize the truth of it, the dark side would cease to be.”

Glasses laughed immediately, a scornful laugh. He shook his head, his empty smile very contrary to the tone of his laughter. “You are wise is many ways, Selena, but so naive in others.”

Selena didn’t have another outburst. In fact, she only drew a breath, and when she spoke again, her voice was low and civil like it had been when Leah had first arrived. “That is true of any optimist,” she said, with a slight smile. “But you will thank my wisdom, and forgive my naievete, when you are given an opportunity to truly destroy the Aged, instead of making a token attempt with your weapons and being killed instead.”

Eyebrows frowned at her, and glasses sighed. Leah spoke, despite herself, before either of them could.

“What Aged?” She asked bluntly. “If they fed on Annie’s blood, they must have been servants or imitators.”

Selena shook her head. “No. The creature in your memory was an Aged.” She flushed slightly, and the fact that the mere memory of Leah’s memory disturbed her to such a degree made Leah’s skin feel suddenly chill. “There is no question.”

“It would be logical that servants would do something so stupid as to feed from a woman and allow her to live, and the Aged would not then trust them to remedy their error.” Glasses’ tone was grudging, and Leah thought she knew why. It was grudgingly that he would lend his help, because Selena had angered and insulted him.

Selena nodded, not looking at him. She kept her eyes on Leah. “Yes, that would be my assumption. These are servants – or, possibly, imitators – beneath the influence of an Aged, or at least its protection.”

“Which complicates things,” eyebrows said, in a more civil tone than the one that glasses had employed, “since an Aged’s oath is very solemn. Even if they deserve it, and he believes they deserve it, his oath of protection will prevent him from allowing the imitators or servants to die without his intervention.”

“And you are sure there is an oath involved?” Leah asked hopefully.

“There would be no other reason for the Aged to have come to silence Annie.”

Leah frowned. “But if the vampires want to keep their very existence a secret, isn’t it possible that the imitators or servants were acting independently of an Aged, but he saw fit to ensure that she was silenced, when it became clear the other party wouldn’t do it?”

Selena hesitated. “That is a very remote possibility,” she said eventually.

“Why so remote?” Leah pressed.

“The Aged are…not human, Leah,” Selena said, choosing her words carefully. Leah smiled uncertainly.

“Clearly, Selena,” she said, her voice surprised and confused, but Selena shook her head before Leah had even finished speaking.

“You don’t understand. You and I are human, by my assessment, Leah. We have harnessed abilities that are unavailable to most people, but our humanity itself is not compromised by these additional qualities. An Aged vampire has left behind what once made him or her a human. They live in a way that we do not; they do not concern themselves with the world in the way that we do. It would be unusual for an Aged to have taken notice of goings-on in the outside world without being told by an imitator or, possibly, a servant.”

Leah absorbed this. She knew that Selena was explaining something complicated to her in simple terms, relying on Leah’s trust in her to elicit belief. She nodded.

“Fortunately, it will not be overly difficult to locate sects of imitators or servants,” glasses was saying, after a moment’s pause. “By…interrogating them, it is our hope we will be able to discover which were responsible – and, through them, which Aged.”

“How will you find them?” Leah asked, thinking of the sprawling city and the difficulty of searching for someone of particular abilities there. It would be hard for her, with her sensitivity. If she had none…

“We are not sensitive, Miss Sommers,” eyebrows murmured, still wearing a sour expression, but correctly reading her meaning. “But, the behavior of an imitator is difficult to mistake. There are certain substances required for the existence of such creatures.”

Leah nodded. She could accept this. Then she looked at Selena uncertainly. “What role do we play in this?”

Selena shook her head firmly. “No role, Leah. All we needed to do today was learn what you knew. You will not be endangered further.”

Leah’s expression didn’t ease. “And you?”

“I would like to continue to offer the hunters what assistance I can,” Selena replied simply. Eyebrows’ eyes jerked toward her, and Leah realized this was the first the hunters had heard of Selena’s ongoing support.

“But…” Leah frowned. “You are neutral, Selena.”

“Yes,” Selena said firmly. “And the Aged are a threat to neutrality. Please trust me, Leah, and please keep yourself as far from this search as you can.”

Leah nodded reluctantly. “What about Annie? Is she in danger?”

“It would be best if she slept in your closet for the time being. I will send word when there’s news.”

Leah noticed she did not say, when the vampires are gone.

“Also keep the blinds pulled during the day. Sunlight, you know,” eyebrows said gruffly.

“You mean, it’s true about vampires and sunlight?” Even as she said it, Leah thought of the Aged she’d seen in the sunlit lobby of the apartment building, coming in through the front doors.

“Sunlight will not kill a vampire, but it does render them powerless.”

Storing that bit of knowledge away, Leah stood, turning hesitantly to Selena, who still stood close to her. “I want to help you,” she said quietly.

Selena smiled. “I know that you do, my dear. But the best way for you to do that is to keep yourself safe.”

Leah had yet to disobey Selena, and she couldn’t bring herself to start now. She steeled her resolve and nodded, then with a glance of acknowledgement toward the hunters, she escaped into the Nurbury streets.

*

Lacey took a quick shower in Christian’s hotel room after they retrieved her luggage without incident, installing her into the second double bed in the bedroom. She couldn’t help feeling the overwhelming thrill of excitement again even as she let the hot water course over her face, scrubbing vigorously at her cheeks. She was here, and very close to finding Leah Sommers. The thought of speaking with the girl both excited and unnerved her. She’d all but promised Selena Helms she would never seek Leah out, but she knew the sorceress would understand her intervening now.

It had occurred to her that the better thing to do in this situation would be to warn Selena that there were people after Leah, and trust the sorceress to look after the girl. But Lacey didn’t completely trust Selena, if she was being completely honest with herself. She knew that Selena had the best interest of Leah and any other of her friends at heart, but Lacey was also aware of the way Selena regarded the tensions between the “blessed” and “unblessed,” as she called the people with and without paranormal abilities. Lacey suspected Selena would do whatever she could to ease this disharmony, and wouldn’t be above risk or outright sacrifice of an individual to achieve her greater aim.

Lacey didn’t think Selena would do anything to allow Leah to be harmed or apprehended by Peter Angst and whoever he was working for. She hadn’t admitted it, exactly, but Lacey was fairly sure it had been through Selena’s efforts that Leah had been freed from police custody. What had kept her from them since, however, was more of a mystery. Lacey knew it was likely that Selena had clout within the police department, since they no doubt credited her as an ambassador of sorts within Nurbury and the rest of the dangerous south district.

Despite the time she’d spent with Selena, Lacey had no sure answers to these questions. What she did know was something of the nature of “magic” and psychic abilities, details Selena had been eager to give her. Lacey knew that Selena saw the other woman’s articles and research as doing more harm than good to the blessed community. Lacey disagreed; she believed in fully educating the masses about the existence of supernatural energy and people who wielded it. But she’d not made the mistake of expressing this belief in Selena’s presence. She’d allowed the sorceress to believe that she understood the need for secrecy.

That was another reason she hadn’t run immediately to Selena’s door. She expected hostility from the sorceress in response to the articles Lacey had since published – most especially the one that targeted Leah. Lacey had a feeling no explanation would be good enough for why she’d deliberately betrayed her promise to behave as though Leah had, in fact, disappeared.

Lacey turned the water off, reaching for a towel, frowning despite the lingering buzz of adrenaline her circumstances had encouraged. She wasn’t just sorry to abuse Selena’s trust, she was frightened of what retaliation the sorceress might offer. Despite her reputation as a gentle spirit dedicated to neutrality between the blessed and unblessed, Lacey knew that Selena was a dangerous individual, and her temper was not without its end.

“Miss Simmons?” It was Christian’s voice from outside the door. “About ready?”

Her lips quirked, and, wrapping the towel around her breasts, she jerked the door open. He stumbled forward as she’d predicted, having been leaning heavily against the frame, and then stared at her for a full three seconds before jerking his head in the other direction.

“I was just asking…”

“How long I’d be?” Lacey interrupted, grinning at him. “Just a few minutes. Thanks for your concern.”

He cleared his throat and made sounds of understanding.

“Oh, and Christian?”

“Yes?”

“Call me Lacey, really,” she said, with a disarming smile, and closed the door again. She was still smiling to herself when she’d finished drying her hair, but she sobered herself with the reminder that she wasn’t here to flirt with her contact. It wasn’t like she’d never slept in the same room as a nice looking man before without getting naked. She could show a little restraint.

Lacey embarked on a familiar routine. Commonly wanting to escape notice had made her adept at downplaying her positive aspects, and she now had the process refined to a ten-minute science. She first coiled her hair at her nape into a tight bun, securing it with bobby pins. Amber mascara she bought from a company that commissioned makeup for movies made her long, arching black eyelashes appear half their natural length. Brown contact lenses left her eyes mud-colored. A layer of pasty base transformed her natural glow into matte. And sweat pants under baggy jeans gave her a decidedly dumpy look. She pulled on a shapeless sweatshirt and presented herself to Christian for inspection.

He blinked at her. “Unrecognizable. How…?” He shrugged it off, peering closely at her a final time. “Never mind. Let’s get going.”

Lacey followed him down to the lobby, making her own assessment as they walked. He was casually dressed, too, in jeans and a leather jacket, but had apparently seen no need to tone down his own good looks. He had a lean muscularity that was emphasized by the cut of the expensive jacket, and the rasp of new beard looked good enough to rub her cheek against. Blinking, Lacey stared hard at the seam in the elevator doors. What the hell was getting into her?

They’d left the car in the parking garage, and they returned there now. Christian opened her door for her, and she felt the closeness of his look as she slid into the seat. She smiled at him.

“Do I look that different?”

He was surprised into a smile in return. He closed the door and got into his own seat before answering her. “Yeah. I think it’s covering up the eyes that makes the difference.” He glanced in the rearview mirror before backing out.

“So, where are we going?”

The less personal topic seemed to soothe him. “A place called Tag’s, a bar in the mid district.”

Lacey’s brows rose. “I thought that particular establishment fell in the south district,” she said.

Christian glanced at her. “So you’ve heard of it. Well, it is technically in the mid district, which gives it a nice combination of south lawlessness and loose taxing, but some of the mid district’s safety and accessibility. Have you been there before, or do you just know it by reputation?”

“Reputation,” Lacey said firmly. “When I was in Trahl, I experienced it from the perspective of someone with supernatural abilities, not a straight human.”

Christian made a sound in the back of his throat. “Is it that different? Most supernaturals live on the absolute underbelly of this city. It’s a tough world, and there are plenty of ‘straight humans’ in it.”

Lacey’s lips twitched, and she shrugged, trying to keep any other display of emotion off her face. It amazed her how this man, reputed for his perceptiveness, seemed so willing to swallow all of the stereotypes and rumors about the supernatural world, and the nature of this city’s darker side.

“Yes, it is a tough world, but the chaotic violence of humans doesn’t really exist for these people.” She frowned, trying to remember how Selena had explained it to her. “You gain some safety by being aware of the energy around you, and having some of your own. If you haven’t started a feud with any one, and you don’t wear your fear on your arm, you’re reasonably safe in most parts of even the deep south.”

Description
On Tuesdays, Leah went to the public library.

About ten years before, the public library policies had been altered, so that books were no longer checked out, but rather were available to be read in the building. As the government had lost its grip on society, its implementations – such as public libraries – began to suffer from disrespect. Books were rarely returned. Fines were basically never paid. So, the new library.

Leah loved to read, but spending five bucks on a paperback she’d be finished with in three hours was a waste of money she couldn’t bring herself to make. By taking the mid-district bus, however, she was only out two dollars and was downtown for the day. Generally she’d have lunch at one of the sub sandwich vendors, occasionally at a sit-down café if she’d had a particularly good week. Often she didn’t find the time to eat on Mondays, her day at Elaine’s, so she allowed herself the indulgence of a real meal Tuesday.

Her day would be cut short by the trip to Nurbury. Usually she stayed downtown until nightfall, savoring every hour of the expense of the trip. Her urge to hoard away her money kept her from going more than once a week, so she liked the experience to last. However, to get to Selena’s well before nightfall, she’d need to head in that direction by six. This time of year, Trahltyx would be consumed by night just before eight thirty.

Leah didn’t take her duffel bag. It wouldn’t be allowed in the library and she didn’t want to replace it if someone lifted it from outside. Besides, she’d only wished for the change of clothes once while she’d been downtown, and it had been when a bus had sprayed her with muddy rainwater from the curbside. Nothing she couldn’t tolerate. She wore loose jeans with deep pockets and carefully counted fifteen ones into them from her cash shoe box in the corner of the closet. Annie slept, thankfully, through her exit. She closed the closet door and drank a glass of water before letting herself out of the apartment.

It was six am, early for cabs, but the street was busy enough to supply a few nonetheless. Leah settled in the backseat, huddling in her sweatshirt against the cold. It was always like this in the early mornings, and few drivers wanted to wear out the heating systems in their cabs, apparently. She was used to a chilly ride downtown, but at least little to no traffic made it a fairly quick journey.

The taxi deposited her in the heart of the downtown – a weary park that was basically a cracked sidewalk, a mossy fountain, and three benches riddled with graffiti. During the day, however, there wasn’t a place safer than this. Its multitude of public buildings deterred the less than law-abiding from braving the sunlit streets.
The library was only a few blocks from the bus stop. Leah checked her pocket for the lump of money as she walked toward the squat cement building, passing the dim interiors of stores that hadn’t opened for the day, or buildings that were between renters. She’d once entertained the idea of opening some sort of an establishment here, in this safe region that seemed to be caught up in an ongoing dream of what yesteryear had been. Sometimes Leah likened downtown Trahl to a museum of the twentieth century United States, full of people pretending times hadn’t changed.

The library was an old concrete building that wasn’t totally unlike the Lodge. Its doors were glass, however, and there was no hallway on their other side. Instead, bookshelves sprung directly from that point on, in orderly rows all the way to the far wall. Volunteers were few and far between, so there was no particular order to the shelves any more. There weren’t people enough with the time and willingness to file them. Instead, books were put back where there was a crack or the borrower happened to pass by. Finding something specific was impossible, but the variety was amusing. The first three consecutive titles Leah saw were The Nature of African Crocodiles, Wuthering Heights, and Gray’s Anatomy. She pulled Wuthering Heights and walked down the aisle, sidestepping around a few book browsers, and turned the corner into the reading area. All it really consisted of were donated armchairs and overstuffed couches. Leah chose one with faded blue and pink cherry upholstery and opened the book.

“Bronte, eh? That’s a classic.”

Leah looked up. The voice had been blatantly accented. British, she thought, but she’d never met any one from another country before, and barely watched television. Still, she was fairly sure. The British speaker probably wasn’t taller than her, but had a subtle physical presence that put her on guard. His face was unremarkable, though chiseled, but his eyes, though a neutral muddy brown, commanded attention. She checked, but there was no paranormal energy to him whatsoever. All the presence he possessed was human, purely. In some ways, that impressed Leah more than something else might have.

“By the standards of some.” She’d read a few chapters; time always passed quickly for her here. Leah set the book aside. The style of writing was interesting, the imagery vivid. She was enjoying it, but the classification of specific texts as “classic” or “monumental” always irritated her. The purpose of all books was to entertain, and some of the most purely entertaining genres were scoffed at for quality. She didn’t remark on any of this, however, looking up at him in patient silence instead.

He sat at a respectful distance: on the other end of the faded cherry couch. He was wearing subtly expensive clothing. No labels or specific fabrics stood out, it was just the fit of things. They fit too purposefully well to be off brand, clinging in the right places and hanging unhampered in others.

“You come here a lot,” he said. It definitely wasn’t a question, so Leah thought a shrug would suffice. It seemed to. He nodded to himself for a moment, and then looked back up at her again, as though he’d made some sort of a decision.

“Subtlety aside, I came here looking for you, specifically.”

Leah didn’t stir, although in the back of her mind, apprehension and irritation warred for dominance. Being blatantly sought out by a stranger was never a safe circumstance, but she was also getting tired of it. Twice in two days? And she’d always prided herself on being nondescript, out of the accusing eye of the masses.

“Are you sure you haven’t made a mistake?” Leah expected him to give her full name, including middle initial, or something that could similarly prove he’d done a complete background check.

“I’m sure.”

“Why?” Leah set the book aside and met his gaze unflinching. There really was no call to be overly nervous. He did have her cornered, but at least she didn’t absorb anything particularly threatening from him, and a cautious glance at his foremost thoughts revealed no affiliation with her new friend on the police force.

“I was told by a friend that you’re the most sensitive mind in Trahltyx. Maybe the most sensitive mind that there is.”

Leah gave him a sideways look. She was sensitive, as sensitive as any one she’d met but Selena. However, she didn’t go around comparing herself to every sensitive mind she met, at least not out loud. How any word of her would have traveled to this strange foreign man was beyond her.

“I think your friend was wrong – or you have me confused with someone else.”

“No. You see, I’m not without sensitivity, myself.”

Leah’s brows rose. She had been too overwhelmed by realizing how powerful of a mind he was to notice whether or not there had been a degree of sensitivity, as well. She nudged at him, and he nudged back. A tiny spark of ability, she acknowledged, but it was mastered by its possessor. There was respectability in those who knew their skills well, however limited those skills were.

“No one knows the extent of my sensitivity but me,” she retorted, which wasn’t completely true. She’d left herself open enough to Elaine on occasion that she might have an idea, and Leah didn’t put anything past Selena. However, she also trusted Selena unquestioningly. She knew that her friend wouldn’t sell her out to any one, let alone a random Englishman.

“That may be true, but there are those who have experience enough to confidently say you’re better than any one else around here.” He made a dismissive gesture. “It’s unimportant, anyway. What’s significant is that I would like to offer to hire you for whatever amount of ability you do have.”

Leah’s ears pricked, but her suspicions were not assuaged. “Yes?”

“I’m afraid that it would be remiss of me to give you any details without being confident in your loyalty. Therefore, you’ll have to agree before I share with you what specifically I’ll require of you.”

Leah arched a brow. “I don’t blindly commit myself for any amount of money, sir,” she said evenly.

“Any amount?”

Leah didn’t say anything. He reached into the pocket of his blazer and produced a bundle of cash, which he tossed onto the scarred coffee table between them with no pretense of secrecy. Leah saw a nearby woman’s eyes widen in lust as she took in the girth of the wad.

“A thousand dollars up front. Thirty-five hundred upon completion. Ten days of work.”

Leah folded her arms, finally tearing her gaze away from the money. She’d never had money like that before. It was tempting. But it wasn’t any more tempting than Jimmy’s attempts to persuade her to do less legal tasks in his employ, or the desperate plea of the cop’s brother the night before. She had some values she wouldn’t compromise, even for a virtual small fortune like what was offered.

“I don’t do illegal work,” she said simply.

He folded his arms, whether to mimic her or because they happened to share a common stubborn mannerism, Leah didn’t know.

“You assume it’s illegal?”

“You being so hesitant to give me any details, and you being so ready and willing to fork over forty-five hundred dollars, yes, I do assume it’s illegal.”

He nodded thoughtfully at that. “And if it were perfectly legal?”

Leah’s eyes narrowed. “It’s not.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Legal jobs don’t pay nearly so well.”

“I am not paying for a willingness to break the law, miss. I am paying for your very unique abilities.” He spoke matter-of-factly, without glancing down at the money on the table. Leah looked for him, fingers practically itching to reach for it. But she resisted.

“I’m not interested.” She stood up, dropping her book on the table next to the money. “I’m sure you won’t have any problems finding someone else, however.”

Leah was somewhat surprised that she managed to maneuver her way out of that situation unscathed. Someone cunning enough to track her down without benefit of a commonly used last name or an address would seem unlikely to be such a graceful loser, but she chose not to look the relative gift horse in the mouth. Instead she made her mistake with some regret. She’d been afforded very little time in the library. Not that it really mattered, anyway. She had her appointment with Selena to make, after all.

Reminded of this commitment, and still eager to have her mind put at ease by whatever answers Selena could provide, Leah waited in line at the sub sandwich vendor, absently watching the people milling around the sidewalk in the vicinity. One group that especially caught her eye was a woman with clearly artificial ash blond hair, a khaki skirt and a wrinkled blue pearl-snap shirt, herding a brood of brunette children across the street. There were two little brunette girls and a little brunette boy, all dressed similarly to their mother and all emitting high pitched screams. As they passed Leah absorbed their thoughts like someone else might inhale the scent of fresh bread while passing a bakery. Children were like that, almost always. They didn’t suppress their thoughts and feelings enough to keep them out of Leah’s immediate senses.

The two daughters were tired and grumpy, the boy had just been denied a toy he’d spotted through a store window. Out of simple curiosity Leah probed gently into the mind of the mother. She was clearly the sort of non-confrontational, sweet-natured, shallow woman who was too flustered by the conduct of her children to put two thoughts together toward addressing it. The sounds of the squealing children became a part of the general noise of the street as they turned the corner on the sidewalk.

“What can I get you, ma’am?” The question was issued without any vestige of genuine interest by the uniformed man on the other side of the sandwich counter.

“Turkey on white,” Leah said automatically. It was the cheapest bread, though not the cheapest meat. She didn’t like chicken. Condiments and vegetables were an added cost. He didn’t question her simplistic request, but put the sandwich together in a matter of seconds and passed it, untidily wrapped, into her waiting hands without asking for money. Leah fished a wrinkled five dollar bill out of her front pocket and held it out to him uncertainly.

“Oh, shit, yeah. I forgot. Thanks.” He smiled sheepishly and took the money, a sincere rift in his previous zombie demeanor. She was given twenty-three cents change. Stowing this in her pocket, Leah sank her teeth slowly into the sandwich as she walked away. She forced herself to chew slowly, wanting to close her eyes to better immerse herself in the glory of taste and substance on her tongue.

“Excuse me, miss,” an older woman said tartly, interrupting her reverie by elbowing by. Leah had accidentally come to a standstill outside the open doors of a retail clothing store. She removed herself from the stream of traffic, swallowing. Her stomach stirred to life like an animal newly arisen from a two month hibernation, growling audibly. Leah obediently took another bite, walking normally toward the bus stop, blending into the crowds nicely in her normal collared polo shirt and blue jeans. She didn’t like to think about how nice it was to seem normal.

Half of the sandwich was gone by the time she’d settled into a bus seat, gazing out the window as the big vehicle pulled away from the curb. A kid, probably around twelve, dropped into the seat beside her. She had a yellow pony tail with dark brunette roots and both eyebrows were pierced in three places. She was noisily chewing gum. Leah looked at her out of the corner of her eye for a while.

“How’d you get your hair that color?”

The girl turned to her. There was a ring in her left nostril, too, that Leah hadn’t been able to see from the other angle. She had one blue and one brown eye – natural or not, Leah couldn’t tell for sure.

“It’s just that’s it’s so dark. It couldn’t have been just one round of bleach.”

The girl popped her gum. “No. It took three. Turned my hair to shit.” She fingered a few straw-colored tresses demonstratively. They did seem a little synthetic.

“You’re letting it grow out?”

“I’m shaving my head in a month. That’s when I’ll turn sixteen, and I’ll be able to dance at the Meet.” She spoke nonchalantly, but her chin lifted slightly as she spoke. The Meet was a south strip club that featured the younger dancers. Leah could have glanced at her mind, but didn’t need to in order to be certain she wasn’t turning sixteen in a month.

“That’s too bad. The natural color would look good on you.”

The girl gave her a strange look and then stared out across the bus, clearly hoping something else would catch her attention. So much for trying to be normal. Leah rested her forehead against the bus’s dirty window, watching the mid district become the south. The bus stopped four blocks from Nurbury. She was the only passenger to get off there.

The short walk was unusually pleasant. The temperate weather Trahltyx had been experiencing was distinctly uncharacteristic. This day was especially sunny, so that on the sidewalk, the sweater was almost too warm. Leah rolled the sleeves up to her elbow, stepping onto the main path of Nurbury.

*

The atmosphere was much different during the day. Without the guard fires in front of the doors of each building, the shabbiness of it all was illuminated. In direct light, it seemed more like rows of shacks than a network of mysterious teakettles. There was markedly less traffic as well. The people Leah did see seemed to be for the most part residents, going about the daily tasks of maintaining their small plots of land. Selena was nowhere in sight, and her door was closed.

Leah mounted the stairs and knocked softly on the door. After maybe a minute, she grew restless. Was Selena gone? She’d never known the woman to abandon an appointment. She was ready to back down the stairs when the door opened, revealing Selena herself. She was already smiling, obviously anticipating who would be on the other side of the door.

“Leah. Come in.”

Leah walked past her through the door, drawing up short when she saw that two men already sat in chairs in the center of the room. There were two empty chairs – one, she assumed, for Selena, and one for herself. She hesitated for a moment, then sat down in the seat Selena indicated.

The men were unremarkable, both wearing casual attire, with plain features. One wore wire-rimmed glasses. One had merging eyebrows. They both faced her with polite smiles.

“Leah, these men are vampire hunters.”

Leah blinked. If any of the myths of vampire hunters she’d heard were true, a hunter was a dangerous, inhuman individual. The fact that Selena had invited two of them into her home seemed uncharacteristically unwise. Leah said nothing, but she did nod, attempting to maintain a clear expression.

“I have discussed with them what you experienced earlier today. They feel that by talking with you themselves, they might unveil information that will help them locate their quarry.”

Leah nodded again, even though her instincts were storming inside, pleading with her to run from here as fast as she could. Instead she remained rooted to the floor, silent, her trust in Selena never tried more intensely.

“Leah, do you know anything else that might be related to these vampires?” It was the one with the glasses, in a steady, normal voice. She was startled by the directness of his question. She glanced at Selena, who nodded.

“Maybe,” Leah allowed, swallowing. “My roommate came back the day before from…work…with bites. I only saw one, but she’d been paid much more than her regular fees. And the day that I saw the…thing…she said that the clients had broken into the apartment. She hid in the closet until they went away.”

The twin expressions of civility, unmarked by any particular degree of interest, remained unchanged. The same man spoke again.

“The vampire energy Selena recognized in your memory was not an imitator or a servant, and as you may already know, only those two varieties of beasts feed by taking blood from a human being.” Still, he seemed not to be second guessing the accuracy of her assumption. He paused thoughtfully. “And, while it is common for servants to band together, they are very rarely joined by the more powerful of their kind.”

“It is also strange that your roommate was unharmed. Why would a creature come to the apartment for no reason beyond entering and exiting? Nothing was taken?” This was said by the other hunter, whose voice was vaguely nasal.

“Nothing was missing,” Leah confirmed. They had too few things in the apartment not to notice if something disappeared.

“You said she hid in a closet?” The second hunter asked, his expression skeptical. At this moment, Selena gently intervened.

“Was it your closet, Leah?”

Leah nodded, glancing at Selena in surprise. The sorceress put a quelling hand on her shoulder, addressing the hunters this time.

“Leah’s bedroom is a closet in Annie’s apartment.”

The first sign of emotion crossed the pair of faces, and Leah was surprised and frustrated by it.

“What does it matter?”

“Most vampires cannot enter the home of a true mind. That would explain why the…closet…was a successful hiding place for your roommate, Leah.”

This matter-of-fact indication that the creature had, in fact, been there to hurt Annie, lapsed Leah into a disturbed silence. Meanwhile, the discourse continued between Selena and the hunters.

“Vampires have been known to sometimes travel in small clusters, made up of several servants in service of one or two imitators,” merging eyebrows reminded his coworker.

“Yes, but the energy was distinctly pure,” Selena interrupted quietly. “It was not an imitator.”

“The Aged do not associate themselves with the lower sects,” the hunter insisted. “You must have been mistaken.”

“Moreover, if this girl is a strong mind” – at this point glasses gave Leah a significant, skeptical look – “she would not have recognized the vampire’s energy when she encountered it.”

Leah was moved to interrupt. “What do you mean, if I’m a strong mind?”

The hunters blinked at her. “With respect, miss, we have no way of gauging your mental abilities.”

Leah was stunned. “You hunt supernatural creatures, and you have no sensitivity?” She hadn’t noticed before. Selena had closed the door behind her.

“It seems you are truly ignorant of vampire nature,” glasses said. “They are, it’s true, a mystery to most. Vampires exist because they avoid notice, and have for thousands of years. They are imbued with a powerful brand of masking energy, that makes them seem perfectly normal to any human.”

“Generally, a strong mind is even more completely deceived. A strong mind being nothing but a human with an abnormal degree of mental control, the vampire masking energy is even more intense,” single eyebrow supplemented. “A strong mind is a handicap, not an advantage, in seeking and destroying vampires.”

“She is a strong mind,” Selena said firmly, an edge of irritation in her tone. “I’ve never given either of you any reason to doubt my knowledge – or honesty – of such things.”

Glasses nodded. “That is true, Selena. We would certainly not have traveled here so quickly at the request of any one else. But forgive us, we struggle with how to make sense of this situation, if indeed all you have imparted is fact.”

“There have been no instances of vampires with incomplete masking energy? Or strong minds strangely immune to the masking energy altogether?” Selena seemed to lack her full composure for the first time in Leah’s memory.

“Not to our knowledge,” glasses said.

“Selena,” Leah said suddenly, struck by a thought. “You’re a strong mind, and you recognized the vampire energy. Which means you must have sensed it before, yourself, despite your strong mind.”

Selena shook her head. “You forget, Leah, that I have in part jeopardized my ties to the human powers by involving myself in the inhuman arts.” Sorcery, she meant, which toyed with energy that was accessible to all beings, not just mankind. “But you are rooted in human energy. That is the difference between us.”

“It is…well, there was…” glasses began, but fell silent. Eyebrows looked at him, somewhat sharply.

“That’s true. If you mean the old tales…”

“Gentlemen?” Selena probed delicately.

“Apologies, Selena. We both seem to have just recalled a tale in a collection informally labeled ‘old tales,’ which contain some of the earliest documentation of supernatural creatures interacting with humans. In AD 97, there was a story of a psychic woman, a village shaman of sorts, who was often called upon to declare the guilt or innocence of imprisoned persons accused as vampires. Most historians would dismiss this sort of story as an improvable series of accusations, but the woman is often mentioned in the notebooks of Jean Le Craut, a French nobleman well aware of the existence of supernatural beings. He verified her as a strong mind and trusted her impression of the vampire energy.”

“Another occurrence was in 1092,” eyebrows added. “There was a young girl who found lost children by dreaming of them near three wells, which some of the village people were familiar with. She later identified a murderer, again in a ‘dream.’ She was probably a strong mind, though there’s always a chance she just made fortunate guesses. She was convinced she saw a creature drawing the spirit out of her older sister, and wouldn’t be silenced.”

“Until she was killed, reportedly by animals,” glasses added, with none of the emotion that might have tainted these words were they not spoken with the crisp distance of a historian. “There was something very ritualistic about the pattern of bites. It was almost certainly a servant feeding.”

“Again, these records were from the Le Craut family notebooks, a family that would eventually disappear entirely.”

“Murdered by the Aged, it is assumed.” This time glasses’ voice was grim.

“Two…legends? Written a thousand years ago?” Amazed, Leah looked between them. “This is what you base your knowledge of vampires on?”

“Records of vampires abound in early collections,” eyebrows said simply. “In an age of less structure and far less widespread education, concealment was a non-issue for the beings. But now, they lurk far more effectively, even in fallen countries like these.”

This made some sense. Leah knew that part of the reason why Trahl and other cities of the near-anarchy that was the US were rich with lycanthropes, strong minds, and sorcerers was its very lawlessness. In a more structured, closely monitored society, their presence wouldn’t be so easy to hide.

“Many share your same brand of disbelief, but toward the lycanthropes, rather than the vampires,” glasses said, as though the fact amused him. Leah considered that. Thinking about it made her smile uncertainly.

“There are nearly as many lycanthropes as there are humans in Trahl.”

“That is true, but beyond the city, many are convinced that lycanthropes are a myth. And beyond this country, the public often fails to be aware that even the myth exists.” He adjusted the glasses; not, Leah thought, because they needed it, but in a nervous gesture. “There are even those who are people of Trahltyx who live in willful ignorance of the lycanthropes’ presence.”

Leah knew that was a fact. She even understood why. She was afraid of her world, in a way. If she could live apart from that fear, apart from that world, and convince herself that it didn’t really exist, wouldn’t she want to?

Reading her understanding in her expression, glasses nodded to himself. “In the same way, we are largely ignorant of vampires. There are fewer of them, and they are much more careful to hide themselves. They know that they would threaten those who understand them even more than the normal humans that would not.”

Leah cringed a little at the phrase “normal humans.” She noticed Selena’s eyes narrowing in her peripheral vision. The polite term for a human with no psychic or other paranormal leanings was unblessed, not normal. Of course, Leah understood why that was a label that was less flattering to two distinctly unblessed individuals. Still, the hunters were addressing two “abnormal” women. Where were their good manners?

“Why would they frighten us more?” Leah put a subtle emphasis on the word “us,” looking between the two men.

“A vampire exists by leeching energy from another being,” Selena said, moving closer to Leah and putting a hand on her shoulder. Leah hadn’t realized how deeply the hunters’ offhand barb had offended the sorceress until that moment. They remained outwardly oblivious to the effect of their words, and Selena continued. “For the imitators, the energy is drawn through the blood of other creatures – humans most commonly. But the Aged feed on the energy, not the blood, and they generally believe they are above mingling their spirits with the unblessed.”

Her voice was quiet, but the significance of the last phrase was certainly not lost on any one in the room. Glasses and eyebrows exchanged a look, whereupon the latter cleared his throat.

“Apologies, Selena. You know we truly respect the gifts of you and yours.”

Selena said nothing, but Leah saw this as a new kind of insult. To lump together all people who were blessed as though they were variations of the same degeneration from “normal” was bigoted, especially for individuals who knew much of the diversity of the paranormal abilities. A psychic was as completely different in design and the bounty of her gifts from a sorceress as a doctor was from a cryptographer. Both powerful in their own ways, but vastly different in their skills. To say nothing of the entirely different brand of energy worn by a lycanthrope…or, apparently, a vampire.

Leah studied these men, these men who were hunters. She knew that hunters destroyed dangerous paranormal beings, either because they were a part of an ancient league of humans sworn to protect the safety of the unblessed, or because they were paid mercenaries. These men apparently specialized in vampires. They killed any they encountered – or gave their all to the attempt. If people like Selena and Leah were so much like the quarry they were devoted to destroying, what value did they place on any “abnormal” life?

Chilled, Leah was thankful for the warm weight of Selena’s hand. She wasn’t sure what she would have done if she’d been seated alone when she came to this realization.

“I accept your…apology,” Selena said delicately, a cold edge to her voice suggesting that this was not completely true. “I will be very frank with you, gentlemen. We three know that you cannot destroy an Aged.”

Glasses frowned, but it was, apparently, no longer his turn to speak. “That may be true, Selena, but we are not certain of it. Our weapons have never been pitted against an Aged.”

Selena released Leah’s shoulder, returning to her own chair. She sat in one fluid movement, a small, wry smile on her lips. “I admire your bravery, but you know your prey too well to underestimate them so greatly.”

Glasses folded his arms, his expression suddenly stony. “If you are so sure that we are here in vain, Selena, why were we summoned?”

Selena folded her hands slowly in her lap, her eyes on her intertwined fingers. “There are many ways to destroy a paranormal being, gentlemen. You have bespelled weaponry, but exercise no magic of your own.”

Eyebrows blinked at her, the dark line of his bushy brow crowding his eyes in what was almost a glower. “You know very well that the purity of our bodies keeps us from being puppets in the hands of even an imitator, let alone a nearby Aged. We can hide from them, to a point, and they cannot bewitch us instantly. Our success depends on having no magic in our veins.”

“Purity?” Selena’s voice was as close to rude as Leah had ever heard it. She turned wide eyes on the woman she thought of as her mentor, shocked and fascinated to hear what she might say next. “You are dark hunters, and well you know it.”

Leah didn’t understand what difference there was between a dark hunter and any other hunter, but in that moment she was too startled to even think of asking. Glasses and eyebrows now seemed downright hostile. Their human auras were alight with contained anger, making their shapes spark and shift before Leah’s eyes. She looked away from them like an unblessed would look away from the bright sun through unshielded eyes.

“You have distanced yourself from whatever potential you might have had permanently, sacrificed a portion of your humanity to do your work.” Selena’s expression was cold and fixed on them. “Do not speak of purity as though I am tainted.”

Leah expected them to have the grace to look abashed, but while the anger did fade to a degree, their expressions were otherwise empty. It was as though they could experience only one emotion at a time.

“If there was unity among humans, we would have a better chance of subduing the dark side of the paranormal energies.” Glasses said this, in a clipped voice like an impatient adult trying to teach a child a lesson she’s refused to learn before.

Selena was very still; dangerously still. Leah had never been afraid of the gentle sorceress before, but she could see and feel the other woman’s anger, her disdain, and beneath it all, a sort of resigned sadness. It was a strange combination of feelings, one she hadn’t ever seen the like of before. She could always leave it to Selena to show her something completely new.

“If all humans would understand what we are, and would allow themselves to realize the truth of it, the dark side would cease to be.”

Glasses laughed immediately, a scornful laugh. He shook his head, his empty smile very contrary to the tone of his laughter. “You are wise is many ways, Selena, but so naive in others.”

Selena didn’t have another outburst. In fact, she only drew a breath, and when she spoke again, her voice was low and civil like it had been when Leah had first arrived. “That is true of any optimist,” she said, with a slight smile. “But you will thank my wisdom, and forgive my naievete, when you are given an opportunity to truly destroy the Aged, instead of making a token attempt with your weapons and being killed instead.”

Eyebrows frowned at her, and glasses sighed. Leah spoke, despite herself, before either of them could.

“What Aged?” She asked bluntly. “If they fed on Annie’s blood, they must have been servants or imitators.”

Selena shook her head. “No. The creature in your memory was an Aged.” She flushed slightly, and the fact that the mere memory of Leah’s memory disturbed her to such a degree made Leah’s skin feel suddenly chill. “There is no question.”

“It would be logical that servants would do something so stupid as to feed from a woman and allow her to live, and the Aged would not then trust them to remedy their error.” Glasses’ tone was grudging, and Leah thought she knew why. It was grudgingly that he would lend his help, because Selena had angered and insulted him.

Selena nodded, not looking at him. She kept her eyes on Leah. “Yes, that would be my assumption. These are servants – or, possibly, imitators – beneath the influence of an Aged, or at least its protection.”

“Which complicates things,” eyebrows said, in a more civil tone than the one that glasses had employed, “since an Aged’s oath is very solemn. Even if they deserve it, and he believes they deserve it, his oath of protection will prevent him from allowing the imitators or servants to die without his intervention.”

“And you are sure there is an oath involved?” Leah asked hopefully.

“There would be no other reason for the Aged to have come to silence Annie.”

Leah frowned. “But if the vampires want to keep their very existence a secret, isn’t it possible that the imitators or servants were acting independently of an Aged, but he saw fit to ensure that she was silenced, when it became clear the other party wouldn’t do it?”

Selena hesitated. “That is a very remote possibility,” she said eventually.

“Why so remote?” Leah pressed.

“The Aged are…not human, Leah,” Selena said, choosing her words carefully. Leah smiled uncertainly.

“Clearly, Selena,” she said, her voice surprised and confused, but Selena shook her head before Leah had even finished speaking.

“You don’t understand. You and I are human, by my assessment, Leah. We have harnessed abilities that are unavailable to most people, but our humanity itself is not compromised by these additional qualities. An Aged vampire has left behind what once made him or her a human. They live in a way that we do not; they do not concern themselves with the world in the way that we do. It would be unusual for an Aged to have taken notice of goings-on in the outside world without being told by an imitator or, possibly, a servant.”

Leah absorbed this. She knew that Selena was explaining something complicated to her in simple terms, relying on Leah’s trust in her to elicit belief. She nodded.

“Fortunately, it will not be overly difficult to locate sects of imitators or servants,” glasses was saying, after a moment’s pause. “By…interrogating them, it is our hope we will be able to discover which were responsible – and, through them, which Aged.”

“How will you find them?” Leah asked, thinking of the sprawling city and the difficulty of searching for someone of particular abilities there. It would be hard for her, with her sensitivity. If she had none…

“We are not sensitive, Miss Sommers,” eyebrows murmured, still wearing a sour expression, but correctly reading her meaning. “But, the behavior of an imitator is difficult to mistake. There are certain substances required for the existence of such creatures.”

Leah nodded. She could accept this. Then she looked at Selena uncertainly. “What role do we play in this?”

Selena shook her head firmly. “No role, Leah. All we needed to do today was learn what you knew. You will not be endangered further.”

Leah’s expression didn’t ease. “And you?”

“I would like to continue to offer the hunters what assistance I can,” Selena replied simply. Eyebrows’ eyes jerked toward her, and Leah realized this was the first the hunters had heard of Selena’s ongoing support.

“But…” Leah frowned. “You are neutral, Selena.”

“Yes,” Selena said firmly. “And the Aged are a threat to neutrality. Please trust me, Leah, and please keep yourself as far from this search as you can.”

Leah nodded reluctantly. “What about Annie? Is she in danger?”

“It would be best if she slept in your closet for the time being. I will send word when there’s news.”

Leah noticed she did not say, when the vampires are gone.

“Also keep the blinds pulled during the day. Sunlight, you know,” eyebrows said gruffly.

“You mean, it’s true about vampires and sunlight?” Even as she said it, Leah thought of the Aged she’d seen in the sunlit lobby of the apartment building, coming in through the front doors.

“Sunlight will not kill a vampire, but it does render them powerless.”

Storing that bit of knowledge away, Leah stood, turning hesitantly to Selena, who still stood close to her. “I want to help you,” she said quietly.

Selena smiled. “I know that you do, my dear. But the best way for you to do that is to keep yourself safe.”

Leah had yet to disobey Selena, and she couldn’t bring herself to start now. She steeled her resolve and nodded, then with a glance of acknowledgement toward the hunters, she escaped into the Nurbury streets.

*

Lacey took a quick shower in Christian’s hotel room after they retrieved her luggage without incident, installing her into the second double bed in the bedroom. She couldn’t help feeling the overwhelming thrill of excitement again even as she let the hot water course over her face, scrubbing vigorously at her cheeks. She was here, and very close to finding Leah Sommers. The thought of speaking with the girl both excited and unnerved her. She’d all but promised Selena Helms she would never seek Leah out, but she knew the sorceress would understand her intervening now.

It had occurred to her that the better thing to do in this situation would be to warn Selena that there were people after Leah, and trust the sorceress to look after the girl. But Lacey didn’t completely trust Selena, if she was being completely honest with herself. She knew that Selena had the best interest of Leah and any other of her friends at heart, but Lacey was also aware of the way Selena regarded the tensions between the “blessed” and “unblessed,” as she called the people with and without paranormal abilities. Lacey suspected Selena would do whatever she could to ease this disharmony, and wouldn’t be above risk or outright sacrifice of an individual to achieve her greater aim.

Lacey didn’t think Selena would do anything to allow Leah to be harmed or apprehended by Peter Angst and whoever he was working for. She hadn’t admitted it, exactly, but Lacey was fairly sure it had been through Selena’s efforts that Leah had been freed from police custody. What had kept her from them since, however, was more of a mystery. Lacey knew it was likely that Selena had clout within the police department, since they no doubt credited her as an ambassador of sorts within Nurbury and the rest of the dangerous south district.

Despite the time she’d spent with Selena, Lacey had no sure answers to these questions. What she did know was something of the nature of “magic” and psychic abilities, details Selena had been eager to give her. Lacey knew that Selena saw the other woman’s articles and research as doing more harm than good to the blessed community. Lacey disagreed; she believed in fully educating the masses about the existence of supernatural energy and people who wielded it. But she’d not made the mistake of expressing this belief in Selena’s presence. She’d allowed the sorceress to believe that she understood the need for secrecy.

That was another reason she hadn’t run immediately to Selena’s door. She expected hostility from the sorceress in response to the articles Lacey had since published – most especially the one that targeted Leah. Lacey had a feeling no explanation would be good enough for why she’d deliberately betrayed her promise to behave as though Leah had, in fact, disappeared.

Lacey turned the water off, reaching for a towel, frowning despite the lingering buzz of adrenaline her circumstances had encouraged. She wasn’t just sorry to abuse Selena’s trust, she was frightened of what retaliation the sorceress might offer. Despite her reputation as a gentle spirit dedicated to neutrality between the blessed and unblessed, Lacey knew that Selena was a dangerous individual, and her temper was not without its end.

“Miss Simmons?” It was Christian’s voice from outside the door. “About ready?”

Her lips quirked, and, wrapping the towel around her breasts, she jerked the door open. He stumbled forward as she’d predicted, having been leaning heavily against the frame, and then stared at her for a full three seconds before jerking his head in the other direction.

“I was just asking…”

“How long I’d be?” Lacey interrupted, grinning at him. “Just a few minutes. Thanks for your concern.”

He cleared his throat and made sounds of understanding.

“Oh, and Christian?”

“Yes?”

“Call me Lacey, really,” she said, with a disarming smile, and closed the door again. She was still smiling to herself when she’d finished drying her hair, but she sobered herself with the reminder that she wasn’t here to flirt with her contact. It wasn’t like she’d never slept in the same room as a nice looking man before without getting naked. She could show a little restraint.

Lacey embarked on a familiar routine. Commonly wanting to escape notice had made her adept at downplaying her positive aspects, and she now had the process refined to a ten-minute science. She first coiled her hair at her nape into a tight bun, securing it with bobby pins. Amber mascara she bought from a company that commissioned makeup for movies made her long, arching black eyelashes appear half their natural length. Brown contact lenses left her eyes mud-colored. A layer of pasty base transformed her natural glow into matte. And sweat pants under baggy jeans gave her a decidedly dumpy look. She pulled on a shapeless sweatshirt and presented herself to Christian for inspection.

He blinked at her. “Unrecognizable. How…?” He shrugged it off, peering closely at her a final time. “Never mind. Let’s get going.”

Lacey followed him down to the lobby, making her own assessment as they walked. He was casually dressed, too, in jeans and a leather jacket, but had apparently seen no need to tone down his own good looks. He had a lean muscularity that was emphasized by the cut of the expensive jacket, and the rasp of new beard looked good enough to rub her cheek against. Blinking, Lacey stared hard at the seam in the elevator doors. What the hell was getting into her?

They’d left the car in the parking garage, and they returned there now. Christian opened her door for her, and she felt the closeness of his look as she slid into the seat. She smiled at him.

“Do I look that different?”

He was surprised into a smile in return. He closed the door and got into his own seat before answering her. “Yeah. I think it’s covering up the eyes that makes the difference.” He glanced in the rearview mirror before backing out.

“So, where are we going?”

The less personal topic seemed to soothe him. “A place called Tag’s, a bar in the mid district.”

Lacey’s brows rose. “I thought that particular establishment fell in the south district,” she said.

Christian glanced at her. “So you’ve heard of it. Well, it is technically in the mid district, which gives it a nice combination of south lawlessness and loose taxing, but some of the mid district’s safety and accessibility. Have you been there before, or do you just know it by reputation?”

“Reputation,” Lacey said firmly. “When I was in Trahl, I experienced it from the perspective of someone with supernatural abilities, not a straight human.”

Christian made a sound in the back of his throat. “Is it that different? Most supernaturals live on the absolute underbelly of this city. It’s a tough world, and there are plenty of ‘straight humans’ in it.”

Lacey’s lips twitched, and she shrugged, trying to keep any other display of emotion off her face. It amazed her how this man, reputed for his perceptiveness, seemed so willing to swallow all of the stereotypes and rumors about the supernatural world, and the nature of this city’s darker side.

“Yes, it is a tough world, but the chaotic violence of humans doesn’t really exist for these people.” She frowned, trying to remember how Selena had explained it to her. “You gain some safety by being aware of the energy around you, and having some of your own. If you haven’t started a feud with any one, and you don’t wear your fear on your arm, you’re reasonably safe in most parts of even the deep south.”