Gravity pulled my body in one solid direction, revealing that I was on my back. The darkness won out and my mind stayed unfocused. Still, I saw the past. Images spun by containing facets of life that had been obscured by Muni's trinket.

Muni was someone I barely understood. She was old. Older than any elf or vampire I’d ever met. The woman modified peoples’ memories like other people could mold clay. Mine had been locked away under layers of misdirection coupled with misleading truths, until I pulled off the bracelet.

My mind latched onto a solid chunk of time, one that taunted me. Kahina and I had a rough relationship. It felt like forever ago since we'd met in Julianne's house during a messed up intervention. Each of us presented our side of the story but we'd both been wrong and right. I could almost see all of it but needed to keep piecing the memory together.

It was like a puzzle. Jumbled bits joined to form an incomplete picture that steadily filled in. Then the final pieces clicked and the present faded. Instead, I relived a historical moment of my life.

Kahina and I stood in the basement of my small home. Her being down there stood against all the prior memories of my mind. The recollection came with a shaky gut and arms moving like lumps of lead. This had been a rough point in our history and no longer did Muni’s trinket obscure it.

“You can't do this, Jay!” Kahina plead. We'd been fighting and even partially turned she cried bloody tears which made her face a frightful mess. She tried to cover up the weakness with her ice queen expression.

I busied myself getting ready for a long trip. I wanted to do what was best for all involved. Doing so caused her to cry again because of me, especially in the weeks preceding this memory. Tears were too common at that stage of our relationship.

“I have to. You're in danger,” I responded while packing a bag. Clothes were being shoved into the duffle and the contents of my basement home checked repeatedly for items worth taking.

“I'll survive! We'll survive this! You can't just leave, not now.” Kahina's words followed me as I whirled around the room. We were in my bedroom. We'd been down here because it was the most secure place I knew, and yet wasn’t safe enough.

“They'll kill you,” I said.

“I'm not some weak damsel!”

“Look!” I grabbed my cheap phone off the dresser and held it up. On it was a picture someone had texted me. It'd been taken while she was comatose, during the day. Next to her head was a knife and cross as a clear threat. Kahina had been defenseless.

Kahina knocked away the phone in disgust. She said, “You're just giving in! Doing what they want!”

“And what other options are there?” I turned suddenly and crossed the few steps to her. My gaze stared down into eyes that held a hint of red fire; burning embers in a dim room. They were everything because they were hers.

“I'll use my connections, hire people, and get better security. I'll need them anyway to survive the change.” She tried to reason with me by repeating the same argument we’d been having.

While she made her plans, I made mine. I had already steeled myself to separate the two of us. Kahina and I would part until the danger had cleared. Once they won the shadow war, I’d be free to resurface.

“That’s not enough. That's you.” I gestured to the fallen phone while trying to keep my voice stable. “No protection. A knife away from death. Because of me! Because of what I am! I can’t make you give up your life and everything your father left you. I don’t want you to give it up and run away with me either.”

I did. I still did. My chest ached and breathing hurt.

“I would,” she said.

“You can’t. If we stay like this the world will burn,” I responded. “That’s what happens. That’s what happens every time someone like me cares enough. We die upon the blade of a knife, or burn ourselves out in a rage. Either way, everyone dies.”

“You’re foolish. This isn’t the dark ages.”

Kahina stupidly ignored the substantial threat on her life. I remembered wondering, ‘why would she bother for me?’ My vices were many; I drank too much, fought everything that moved, gambled, and got angry easy. Even the past versions of Jay had been rather unsavory. Kahina Rhodes deserved better. But at the same time letting her go felt impossible, she was mine.

In my memory I groaned and stepped away to start packing again. Shirts were switched out, more durable ones put in. I had been so certain our separation would be final, and the only sane choice left to me.

“You expect me to just forget you?”

I'd held a pair of pants and slowly set them down with a sigh. As the memory played on part of my modern brain screamed ‘Don’t do it. Just stay.’ Only because leaving had been useless in the long run. Five years had passed since this memory of Kahina and me in the basement.

In times’ wake sat broken relationships, confetti memories, self-doubt, and all for nothing. Now that I was probably captured and locked away somewhere, the results were worse than nothing. The past kept me from worrying about current events for another moment or two.

“No.” I picked up the pants again and rubbed my fingers along the fabric. Each grain and ripple tingled along my senses from both sides but the motion barely soothed me.

I wasn’t stupid enough to believe Kahina would move on or forget me. Yet, I needed her to, and hoped we might both let each other go. In the end, that would save us from this dangerous relationship. That way the world would keep going.

“Think about this, what it means for both of us! Our friends!” she pleaded again while stepping closer.

“It means you'll get to live,” I whispered. Those words hadn't been intended for her to hear.

There was a pause in her responses. I could hear sniffling, then a giant unsavory snort that made pigs sound polite. It had almost made me smile. She made those same sounds when we went out to plays, especially the tragedies. She loved tragedies.

Maybe she always knew how we’d end.

“How can you place so much faith in that feather brained thing?” she finally asked. Kahina and Muni met months before this memory, and neither had been impressed with the other. The women in my life rarely got along. Julianne and Kahina were the exception, not the norm.

“She has a name.”

“It's stupid. This is all so stupid! You're an idiot!”

I didn't have to see her to know that her arms were crossed and face upturned. Kahina argued with the wall. She'd be more successful there anyway.

“The trinket Muni has will help you forget and help me forget. It will help everyone who ever knew me forget who I am. They won’t know to look for me, and won’t go after you just to push me. We can buy time,” I said.

I didn't mention Muni would be removing a chunk of people's memories. Not everything —taking too much would leave a person witless. I'd be remembered in some form, and I would be able to recall portions of my life. It would be enough to keep me going, even if all that was left was half a man.

“And you believe Daniel will just solve your problems while you're out playing clueless vagabond?” She snorted again. “I doubt it.”

“It's the best option.”

I almost lost the thread of my past then and there. That belief of mine which somehow linked her safety to my presence had been stupid.

Still, at the time I could recall the certainty that our separation was her best chance. I would go away, she and everyone else would forget to an extent, and Western Sector could do their damnedest to hold off the end of times. Daniel had plans, he was an endless maze of plots, contingencies and alternate routes five layers deep.

If I was out of the way the Order would go back to business as normal, instead of trying to flush me out by targeting those dear to me. If this went right the Order would forget I'd ever been near Kahina, Julianne, or Roy and our family. They’d all forget, until we were ready or we couldn’t stall anymore.

“What if someone else sweeps me off my feet?” She sniffed while talking. I tried not to cringe as my mind silently prayed she would find someone.

Someone better, with fewer flaws, and who could keep her safe.

“Well?” Kahina demanded.

There were no good answers.

“This is because—” She started to ask a question but my head shook rapidly.

“No, it's not. We've been over this.” I shoved another bit of clothing into my bag while searching for more necessities.

“You keep saying that, but I know it bothered you. That's the real reason you're leaving.”

Yet again I stopped packing, and stood there thinking of what to say. I'd never been a man blessed with a serpent’s tongue, no honeyed words flowed forth even if I tried. How could anyone expect me to be reassuring? No wonder Kahina worried about my reactions.

“We both knew what might happen,” I said.

“But...”

Actions were louder than words. I quickly walked over and wrapped my arms around her, pressing us together. Her body stiffened and struggled to break free. She stopped after a few seconds but stayed tense.

“I was in the wrong.” I spoke slowly and carefully.

“But I took your blood.” She kept her voice steady.

“I wanted you to have it, remember?” My instincts had kicked in and things turned violent afterward. “Intent should have been enough, I refuse to blame you for defending yourself.”

We'd tried to follow an old ritual her kind practiced for a pairing between human and vampire. Even being a partial, like she was at the time, our bond would have created a link. It should have been a magnetic pull that would help draw people together. If I were human it'd also smooth the transition for shifting to full vampire.

I wasn't human. I knew it, she knew it, and that was the crux of our problem. Drinking even a little bit of my blood had roused me to anger. Then I became violent while Kahina reacted in defense and desire by aiming for more blood yet trying to fend off my rampage.

Walls had holes punched into plaster. Cops had been called and only Julianne's interference kept things remotely civil. It helped that normal police wouldn't touch a vampire case unless forced.

Julianne drove an upset Kahina home. My girlfriend had slept in her own apartment while I passed out on my bed in the basement, tossing and turning the entire time. It took a week for us to start talking again.

There was no safe word that would have helped for what we'd done. No perfect preparation, or taking it slower. We'd started as basic as possible and things had gone downhill.

“You know that's not the reason,” I said again.

“But I nearly killed you.” She was being silly. It would take a lot more than some blood sport to kill me. I survived gunshots, stabbings, arms breaking, and being thrown off buildings.

“And I you.”

“But I forgave you.” She sounded tired.

“And I you,” I repeated again.

“You're afraid to stay.” Her words grew quieter. Somehow we managed to fall onto the bed. Her hand trailed a familiar path up my chest.

Fear wasn't easy to admit. “I am.”

“They might really kill me?” she asked.

“And worse.”

“I still don't understand what that means.”

Back then I hadn't explained the real problem to her. Maybe if I had laid out everything in plain words and figured out a plan that involved her, history would have been different. There was no way to make reality sound sane. How could I explain that my death, in the right circumstances, might unravel the world? Or worse, bathing in a vat of my blood could transform a human into a creature of madness and power.

No one understood what another Merlin might do and the Purge made sharing the truth publicly impossible. Another human baptized in the blood of a monster like myself could steal the elemental gives and the power of command. Kingdoms had been razed to the ground as one man, the most legendary Merlin, tried to take over the entire Emerald Sector and waged war on Rome itself.

The man had been insane and led humans along a second genocide. His manifesto babbled on about wiping out wolves, vampires, and elves. Daniel showed me the records once citing that Merlin's entire family had been wiped out by wolves gone rogue. The legendary figure’s hatred ran deep. The sector agent and I had talked about it, comparing Hunter histories with the things I knew.

And I knew things he didn't. Not because of personal experience. No, I understood the dangers because my father's voice had told me so. His advice whispered in the far reaches of my mind. There were rules to live by, and warnings from the things he'd learned in a lifetime. We had an entire family line of lessons passed down from father to offspring, generational knowledge that had been embedded into my mind during gestation.

I'd never actually met the voice’s owner. His guidance was often deceptive in its simplicity, repetitive, almost always in threes. There, in the past where I held Kahina in a memory, his words repeated.

Beware those with skins of envy.

Beware those who den in fear.

Beware those who breathe out hate.

The Order of Merlin did all those, even if they covered it up with other names. Preaching all non-humans should have been removed during The Purge was one example. They were also willing to kill for their goals and, based on my slowly recovering memories, wanted to recreate a Merlin in this modern era.

I had to become scarce. Daniel Crumfield, a Western Sector agent I'd known for most of my life, was of the same mind in this. The sooner I became invisible the safer everyone was. Making Kahina and everyone else forget would only add another layer of protection. They needed protection and I wouldn’t be in a place to provide it.

My mind was addled and memories distorted. Too many bits were coming back to me in the wrong order. I focused on the memory of leaving Kahina the first time.

“Will you come back?” Kahina asked in the relaying memory.

I nodded and responded, “If I can.”

“When?” she asked.

“I don't know.”

The lull was a fragile thing. I could almost feel it—struggling to hold onto hope coupled with a fear of loss. They were warring emotions that ruled our lives.

“I don't like this,” she said. In that moment Kahina showed her first tone of depressive resignation. I didn't want to spend our last moments arguing. Maybe she didn't either.

“When I return, you'll be a big shot vampire. You won't need a thug like me.”

She snorted at my statement but it sounded snotty. “Please. I can’t replace you.”

“You’ll have a house full of servants. Plus some old vampire trying to control you. And your father will be happy to see me move on.”

“I won't make it through the transition.”

“You will,” I said and attempted a smile. “You've got my blood in you. Even a little will make the difference. It’s how it all started, you may be the purest vampire to exist in millennia.” I knew, because my father knew, and his father, and his father back at least six generations.

“But I won't have you,” Kahina said.

“I'll come back. It’s impossible for me to stay away forever.”

“I hope so.” She nestled closer but wasn’t looking for anything beyond the reassuring comfort of being near. That was fine, I was too mentally drained for sex anyway. It wasn't like she was alone in being upset.

After this memory, the next day, we wouldn’t be together in the same way. What we were would become a distorted version of the truth once Muni blocked parts of my memory.

“I'll wait for you, Jay,” she said so quietly I almost doubted my own ears. But we were in my home and everything here I felt as if it were my own arms or legs. Each stir of air like it passed through my lungs. Tying me to her had been unavoidable.

I tried not to dwell on doubt and worry. Back then there was hope the new version of Jay Fields wouldn't foul things up too badly. My only memories would be skewed versions of the past. Muni was ordered to focus on magnifying bad events which would keep me too upset to return.

Thoughts about my unseen father floated through. He had other lessons regarding the claim I laid over Kahina and others. Just by knowing people I felt the connections slowly come together. Close friends, things, places, even the patchwork family I'd built around myself.

His words always passed through with a slow yet demanding rumble. Whenever I pictured the words in English they almost always sounded straight from the Emerald Isles, a proper gentleman, but so very worn out.

Still, his words were unbroken, unceasing, almost a mantra.

What you claim defines you.

What you claim relies on you.

What you claim wounds you.

Those words were formal dressing for a singular idea. What I claimed, was me, in a sense, with all the dangers that represented. It would wound me to leave her, so much that the only way to make it possible was to have my memories altered.

I sat there with Kahina under one arm, staring at the ceiling of my cluttered bedroom, and searched through my father's words for any wisdom that could be gleaned; anything that would give my chosen path a hope of success.

I came up blank.

The next day Muni had gutted parts of my memories and smeared over other blocks. There were many items that were too dangerous to leave in one piece. My nature couldn't be buried completely without a mental crippling.

I nearly killed the raven headed woman. Roy's family had held me back, struggling, gasping, and finally sobbing. My blood and memories were vital possessions that sent me into a fit like any theft.

After the mental blender I woke on a bus headed east.

Julianne had agreed to keep my apartment. Theoretically I'd travel and find work, which I had. My memory would be shoveled around to think I needed to send cash home to pay for the space. Doing so would signal to Daniel and others that I was alive. Chances were I'd barely find enough to survive, so the rent would probably come out of my other finances.

Hell, I remembered now. I had more money than anyone rightfully needed. Bottom Pit paid out a share of its profits to all members of the family and plenty of cash was stored away from fighting.

My mind drifted in and out. That bit with Kahina and the past had been the clearest memory to resurface. A dozen others sat in jumbles sorting themselves chronologically before playing. Muni's mechanisms couldn’t be undone so easily.

I managed to remember Daniel's stupid code word, for all the good that knowledge did. The man was probably off in deep cover with the Order of Merlin. Last I'd heard, from one of his other Sector agent pals, Daniel was one of the faithful and had escaped the compound before the feds showed up.

Hell. I shoved all the images from my past away and surfaced. Both eyes fluttered letting in natural light. The world felt heavy and uncomfortable. Skin on my arms puckered in spots, things lodged under flesh that stung when I tried to twitch an arm. Both thighs were tied down.

My eyes were open but the sensation of using them felt alien and disjointed. A pale green color covered everything. Beeps pulsed through the air. I tried to swivel my head to the side but failed. My neck was braced. I attempted to lift an arm and found it equally restricted. A rattle of handcuffs was distinctive enough to set alarm bells off in my mind.

I tilted my wrist, then twisted fingers around a chain linking me to the bed. For a third time I tried to curse but my throat didn’t work. Those were definitely handcuffs.

If that was the case, someone should be in as soon as they noticed their prisoner was conscious. Escaping might be possible. I tugged at the arm again, now that I knew what was holding me down.

My hand refused to form a proper grip and my muscles were lethargic. Nothing functioned in a desired manner. I clenched my eyes, trying to stop the world from spinning. My mind tried to focus on ownership to pull a bit of strength for escape. Nothing came forth. No surge of energy and none of the primal thoughts which sounded like a rock born caveman.

There had been a name for that voice. What had my father called it? Memories swam over me, blocking thoughts of escape. Words rumbled with pieces of history and people I'd fought in flashes. Roy, Tal, his family, we’d had endless hours of brutal sparring in the early morning in an effort to perfect their dances. I enjoyed the battle as much as they did.

Daniel had fed me leads and I'd found him missing persons, fugitives, criminals in hiding as an exchange of favors. Most of the waitresses at Bottom Pit had been brought back by me. They were a collective result of my efforts from fifteen to twenty-five.

Roy and Tal, they were the first. His son Leo, the one who'd tried to rescue me, hadn't even been born then. I'd run into scattered others of whatever race Roy belonged to and each had been lost. Each one attracted to the fighting circuits because of their love of combat.

I'd freed three girls from a vampire household on the east coast. The fang face kept them in chains because of their unnatural beauty and submissive personalities. They couldn't help how their race made them. Out of all the Hidden I’d tracked over the years, those types of girls were the most prevalent. Females like them had survived The Purge where most other races were broken. No one found a glorified sex slave to be a threat, but every man in power wanted more.

My reverie snapped when I heard distinct footsteps outside the jumble of memories. Two people approached. One had heavy sounding footsteps and the weight of a larger man. Cigar smoke preceded him entering the room. The second set of feet was lighter, less hurried, and almost lazy.

“Good, you're awake. Now I can charge you and get you out of my backyard,” a gruff voice uttered. The man sounded like every grumpy police officer to cross my path.

I didn't say anything.

“I'm guessing you already know your rights, but in case you slept through the last go round, here they are,” he said.

They must have run my prints. As the former version of Jay, I believed I had no Sector Identification, number, or affiliation and lived off the grid. That part of my history had been a lie. I did exist on paper. A rather long record was tied to these hands.

My rap sheet was yet another aspect of my life buried in order to stay out of sight. No one could find me if I didn't get caught or use credit cards. Now the attempt at subterfuge was botched beyond repair.

“You have the right to remain silent. You have the right to representation by a council member of the race you choose, should you be unable to afford counsel your governing body will be notified and may choose to provide counsel.”

This idiot probably thought I was a wolf. My size, shape, attitude, all the little tells I had would rearrange into a lie. Muni’s charm made sure people would chalk everything up to me being pack. That charm was charred to a crisp and removed.

“Everything you say and do can and will be used against you in a trial by non-racially biased peers. Your council may choose not to be present during questioning and no conversation between you and any member of the government shall be considered personal, private, or sacred.” He sounded eager and rushed through the last part.

I kept my eyes closed and let the grogginess pass unchallenged. The second figure cleared his throat. He wore a plain white coat and inspected the machine’s readouts, then looked at my arm. Two fingers pressed around the needle checking it. There was a bag hanging above, similar to the blood pouches I’d given Kahina during her transition.

“I'm also required to advise you that you are currently under sedation for the safety of all staff members. This sedation is classified as a muscle relaxer and has been ruled to have no long term adverse effects, mentally, physically, or spiritually, on any species.”

He annoyed me. The man talked on and my head swam from the onslaught of memories upon first waking. I opened my eyes and found the world still black, and counted backward from ten. It didn't help me feel any better so I counted again. I was in the middle of my third lap when the doctor coughed and the law enforcement official sighed.

“Is he coherent?” The man’s shoes squeaked as he turned. I couldn’t really see any of them, only vaguely feel the parting sensations.

“He should be,” said the one with a lab coat.

“Hearing functional, understands English?”

“According to his file, yes, and yes,” the doctor said.

“Can you vouch as a witness that he has been advised of his rights and chose not to respond?” the person reading my rights said. I still didn’t know exactly or who or what role he filled. He sounded like a grumpy desk officer.

“I heard you,” I finally chimed in, exhausted and annoyed at the same time. True anger would require less sedation.

“Good. Are you requesting council prior to hearing the charges laid against you?”

The lighter set of footsteps padded out of the room.

“No,” I said.

It'd do no good anyway. In all my travels I never once found a lawyer who might understand. Not to mention the entire legal system confused me. Daniel handled this shit and he was unlikely to be present.

“Good.” The man’s voice paused. “That makes this easy. I've got you for the murder of six humans, attempted murder of another seventeen, assault of three federal employees, attempted sabotage of military equipment worth more than your life, and an attempted escape from lawful custody.” The list came in a grumpy litany. I'd be willing to bet this man was somehow a distant relation to Barnie.

Other memories surfaced in flashes. I'd been chasing a lead Daniel supplied me, looking for a strange creature living in the swamps. That brute had turned out to be Ted, a dim witted behemoth-sized man. Barnie, on the other hand, was pure human; shotgun touting, business, and almost broken upstairs. He and Ted came as a pair.

Gods above, Ted could hit hard. I tried to bring a hand up to my face, remembering where the hunched titan had absently backhanded me some forty feet. The cuffs rattled and shook me out of another bout of history.

“Do you understand the charges against you?” the officer repeated himself while my mind wandered.

“Sure,” I said, trying to lean my head back. “Everything’s my fault.”

He chewed something a few times that sounded squishy. After a few smacks he said, “Legally, I'm required to ask if that's a confession or antiquated sarcasm, in case you're a vampire.”

“I was in the helicopter if that's what you're asking.” That was a more recent event. I'd leapt into the hanging vehicle, chasing the spirit creature. Honestly, I'd probably saved their lives, not endangered them.

“And the murders?”

“I killed the White Lady,” I admitted. Memories of her screams tore through my mind, making me wince.

“You admit to willfully ending lives of a species you do not belong to?”

I chuckled weakly at the absurdity of his question. No one belonged to my species. My head bobbed anyway. He probably thought I was talking about a Caucasian woman and not some strange creature that leeched peoples’ energy or stilled hearts by screaming.

Technically, no one belonged to her species either.

“Good. Interspecies murders make my life a lot easier,” he said after a grunt.

I didn't admit the murder because he asked, but to see if I felt a shred of remorse over the actions I'd committed. It turned out there wasn't any guilt over the deaths in defense of what was mine.

Even with my mind sorting itself out, I knew remorse wasn't something that plagued me. I'd been briefly worried about my lack of emotion, but the man I was at the core had never cared. Defending one's belongings held no rules. Even humans would act like animals when their prized possessions were threatened. The fear of losing what we held dear could turn Saints into monsters.

I'd questioned Evan, the elf who'd recognized me even in my disguise, asking if I was an Angel. He'd said that I was nothing so noble. In that he was right. I held a distinct advantage over Saints; I'd started out a monster.

Losing Julianne? What I'd done to Kahina? The pain I'd inflicted on that literal bitch from the mercenary pack? I felt guilty about those things and more. There was a list of events in my life that I'd redo if the cost wasn't so high. Five years. That’s all I’d earned.

“I get a call, right?” I asked, coming out of the deep thoughts.

“Legally. ‘Course with your admission you'll be shipped off right afterward. A full trial will still be issued to determine sentence length, but you've admitted enough for a go directly to jail card.”

“Hell.” I knew what that meant. There were three places in the world that housed interspecies offenders. Only one of them covered the Western Sector.

His smile was tangible. “That's right, you’ve booked yourself an express trip to Atlas Island.”

“How long could it be?”

His head shook. “To be determined at your hearing.” The man’s shoulders bobbed to my faded tactile senses. “I'm pushing for twenty to life myself.”

“I probably saved the lives of all those people.”

“Doesn't matter. When a wolf murders some woman, color aside, it’s a hate crime. Crimes by other races are considered dangerous”—he sounded grumpy and happy—”to The Balance achieved by the Accord of Caesar.”

My file probably said lone wolf with no pack from Daniel’s handiwork. Thinking of the Western Sector agent caused other memories to flicker through.

I chuckled then outright laughed as the latest chunk cruised through. It was Daniel's words. I'd asked him why he bothered keeping me alive. The best method of keeping peace in the world would have been just to kill me in the same way normal people would disarm a nuke. His answer was still funny in a morbid sort of way.

The law enforcement man paused his chewing. “Laughing at anything in particular?”

“I should have gone to Atlas a long time ago,” I said.

“Yep.” His shoulders shrugged and the rustle of fabric lingered along my faint perceptions. “I did wonder how you'd skated by.”

Clearly he'd read the rest of my file. There should have been a line that said, 'Jay Fields, royally screwing his life up so the world can exist in peace.' Maybe right after, ‘Will punch for food.’ They’d never read the first wordy line without a hook.

“I'm only free for one reason, Officer.” My head felt numb and the words were slow.

“I ain't got shit at home but a pizza to reheat. So, regale me.”

“I'm a monster. If even half of what I've done is on that sheet it'd be pretty obvious.”

“Yep. It's an impressive resume for a hitter. But now you’re repeating yourself. So, what's the big secret? Why'd they let you fly free for this long?” He was chewing on something thick and heavy. Its scent filled the room as his saliva mixed with the edges of an unlit cigar.

I could see it now. Daniel's face as we hiked up a hill. We'd been at a park on the outskirts of town. Daniel was twenty, going away for college. Sector agents were required to earn a four year degree, even Hunter born. It was that day, there, on the hill, when I'd asked why Daniel was friends with me. His kind chased down all non-humans and ended their lives. It was in their blood as sure as the fire was in mine.

The world had stopped. Chirping ceased, wind halted, and even the highway nearby seemed empty. Daniel’s normally cheerful face, complete with surfer accent, fell away leaving an alien look. No emotion. Not even a ghost of exhaustion. He stared at me, serious, still, poised to do something, like the world centered upon his words as he uttered a vital truth of our relationship.

I told the officer words I'd heard from Daniel, “Sometimes it takes a monster to kill a monster.”

Daniel's words had continued. I didn't say any more to the officer. My mind kept on happily recovering the lost moment again and again. 'I'll do anything to keep humanity safe. Even if it means the betrayal of everything I hold dear. Even befriending the enemy,’ he said. Daniel the Betrayer was the title my other thoughts had given him. Of me, of his own kind, of everyone—for the good of us all.

The Western Sector motto. Everything for the peace.

“Right. Makes perfect sense. So, you'll fit in at Atlas with the rest of the loonies,” the officer said. Without further questions he left the room, chewing furiously at his mouthpiece.

I sat there, staring with unfocused eyes, wondering what to do next.