The last of the wolf brigade jumped through the open doors, landing crouched down from the shift.

Slade hove a sigh.

Lomos, the one in charge, unhooked his cape and affixed it around his waist, as did the others. It was either that or go naked. Werewolf or not, exuding authority while in the buff was easier said than done. The Wolf brigade had several division—each led by an alpha. Of the twenty werewolves there, Lomos was by far the smallest—his skill and ferocity in a fight earned him his title.

The collar around his neck doubled as a gun harness which he looped his shoulder through and tightened.

“Right,” he said, brushing down his cape turned kilt, “where’s the victim in question?”

“Over here, Officer,” Marrow waved from the booth, a bawling fairy in his hold. “Over here.”

Lomos focused on Slade and said, “We’ll get a statement from you soon enough. Don’t move.”

Slade, leaning with her back against the wall, eyed the floor. Eventually she stood and sauntered to the bar. Trixie caught hold of Manny and hurried to follow.

“Don’t get discouraged, boss. There’s another full moon that’s perfect for enriching the runes in three months’ time. Ey?”

Without responding, Slade raised her left hand. Trixie wasn’t the brightest, but she knew to shut up.

Manny hunched over, mewling. Trixie patted his back. Fae blood withdrawal. It was rushing through him fast. The high came with a crushing low.

There was nothing left to do but wait so Slade called for a drink.

A goblet of blood landed before her. She eyed it, unmoved.

When a tall figure sat down beside her, she didn’t regard him. The fact that Eli came fully clothed meant he’d been heading her way intentionally. His white cape hung on his shoulder.

“We need to talk,” he said, leaning forward.

Slade supposed they did. Letting out a sigh, she cut him a glance.

That cape. She hated seeing it. Its ornate gold bezel made her sick. She especially hated the monogram of Eli’s initials on the top. At the time she’d bought it for him—for a couple, it had seemed cute. A fitting engagement present for Eli and his would-be bride. But two years past without that marriage getting underway and Slade had a hard time looking at that cape now without a mountain of regrets and what ifs.

He followed her gaze and brushed the cape back. “Focus,” Eli commanded. “We have to talk.”

“Excuse me, sir. We’d like a word with Slade,” Lomos said.

Eli didn’t take his eyes off Slade when he answered the werewolf. “Give us a minute.”

“If it’s all the same, I can’t. These fairies aren’t leaving quietly.”

They went back and forth for some time before Eli got the information he wanted.

“They what? In the blood? All of it?”

Marrow flew forward. “It was just a prank, sir. A simple, silly prank. And the boy would have apologized but—”

Lomos raised his hand but didn’t look back. “Tax Collector, with all due respect, we don’t want to be down here in a den of hungry vamps. Please give us some space.”

Letting out a snort, the fairy flew back to his colleagues hard at work comforting the crying youth.

“A prank?” Eli marveled. “There’s a reason it’s called life’s blood. It takes ages for them to cultivate that stuff. It’s not even a tenth the potency of what they’re used to. Here they are, making an effort to stay out of everyone’s way, and this is the result? And you’re just gonna—?”

“Yeah, I’m just gonna,” Lomos answered. He turned his attention to Slade. “He says one of you cussed the kid. Now. I don’t gotta remind you what negative words do to Fae. It makes ‘em heavy and their wings don’t flap as fast. It’s excruciating to fly after that. The law states—”

“Oh for—”

Eli quieted when Slade held his shoulder.

Turning in her chair, Slade told Lomos, “That was me.” She struggled to chuckle. “Yeah. It was just a prank but...well, we were all kinda shocked. Wouldn’t you be?” she challenged.

The werewolf’s stone-cold expression showed wear. “It’s the law, Slade. That’s a strike for the month. Don’t force it.” He looked back to the fairies who stood and approached. “Says also that one of you assaulted them—bit her right in the rump, or something.”

Slade glanced past to Marrow’s smug look then focused on the wolf again. “That was also me.”

Lomos fished into one of the small pockets of the collar and produced a gold coin. “Gonna fine you. You take this into the clerk and make payment. Ya hear?”

“Gold?” Eli stood. “She can’t pay for a gold penalty.”

Without looking at Slade, Lomos stared Eli down and handed it over. “It’s now got her essence. It’s her penalty to bear. I can always take it back,” he challenged.

And exact a physical punishment right here.

With that, Eli backed down.

Slade took the coin and put it in her pocket.

“Don’t go losing it,” Lomos said. “All right?”

Once she nodded, the werewolf reported back to the Fae and Slade turned to her goblet.

Eli stared her down. His gaze burned her skin, it was so hateful.

“Say something.”

Slade sighed. “I’m here trying to enjoy my piss-blood, sir. What’do you want?”

When she reached for the cup, he boxed her hand away. “Stop. Whatever rune magic was in, it’s been neutralized by the fairy piss. If you take even a sip of that, I’ll consider it as an act of aggression and as your way of getting back at me.”

It was an act of aggression, directed at her. The barkeep actually put it there. One of her own—one of her own had the nerve to try and feed it to her.

That said all she needed to know; they no longer had faith in her or her ability to provide for them.

Rather than call Eli’s bluff, Slade eased the cup to the side. He was a gentle soul usually, but when provoked, he was unpredictable.

“I need to talk to you,” Eli said, easing closer, “about yesterday. About last night.”

Here it comes. I wonder if he’ll compliment us.

Slade gnashed her teeth to keep from cussing that voice.

“What you did...what you made me do was unforgivable,” Eli began. He scanned the room then eased closer. “I know it was you who invited Sarah over. That was unfair. How could you leave me to...to be taken advantage of like that? Especially....” He paused and whispered, “Especially after what we had.”

Slade turned and looked him in the eye. “I was with Trixie all night last night. Right, Trix?”

“Huh?” Trixie stopped rubbing Manny’s back long enough to chime in. “Right. All night.”

Eli raised an eyebrow at her. “Oh?”

“Yeah. We hunted rabbits. Right, Trix?”

“Huh?” Trixie looked up from Manny and told Eli. “Right. Hunting rabbits.”

Fighting battles head on was never Eli’s way. Slade could hardly believe he’d come to her directly about this issue. Everything about him said he’d do what he always did—give up when something looked a challenge.

Today, he wasn’t backing down. “Are you honestly going to sit there and deny this? You’d swear—”

“I’ll swear,” Slade said. “I’ll swear it on my mother. I was with Trix from sundown to sunup.”

Eli’s glare turned hateful. “You hate your mother. Swearing on her death or injury is hardly proof.”

“Then I’ll swear on my father, too—”

“Another person you hate.”

“I’ll swear on Trix.” At the silence, Slade faked a smile. “How’s that?”

Eli glanced past her to the harpy. When his eyes settled on Slade again, there was gravel in his voice. “Like you’d care if Trix broke her neck tomorrow. Try again.”

Trixie snickered and leaned in. “He’s got you there, boss.” She paused and protested, “Hey!”

Slade raised her left hand and Trixie backed down. “What’do you want me to swear on, then?” Slade asked.

Eli’s stern gaze softened. “Swear on us. Swear on our friendship, on any affection we’ve ever had. You swear on that. Swear on it right now and I’ll stand up and never bother you again.” His tone held a challenge. “I dare you.”

It was a way out. It was a way to get everything Slade knew they needed. It was a way to be rid of him. Despite that, each time she willed her mouth to open, it couldn’t.

Still with his eyes fixed on her, Eli reached into his pocket for his smartphone. Whatever he wanted to show, lay dormant on the screen.

One tap had Slade’s voice coming from the device.

The Eli on the phone laughed. “What are you doing? Don’t record—” He took the kiss and pleaded, “Don’t record this. Here.” The next protest was cut off with an equally soft smooch and a moan. “Are you sure?”

Upon Eli pausing the video, Slade fought back her anger. That was her. And she couldn’t recall any of it. Once upon a time, she might have cared who saw or heard but as modesty was a human flaw, she’d lost most of hers the day she was turned into a vampire. And what with being naked most of their lives, werewolves were less than shy about things of the flesh. Still, doing this in private would have given her enough silence to think of a better lie.

Instead, she settled for honesty.

“So we got drunk,” Slade admitted. “We made a drunk mistake. It happens.”

“Drunk?” Eli marveled. “You think we were drunk? Neither of us where drunk. Look.”

He unpaused the video, but Slade refused to witness it. She made up her mind not to until her own tone changed, directed at her.

“Hey, if you’re watching this, don’t go putting up a strong exterior.”

Slade met eyes with the stranger on the phone screen, convinced the woman wearing her own face, using her own voice, wearing her own clothes, was speaking to her directly.

That Eli, sitting behind her, leaned in to put his chin on her shoulder. “Why are you doing this again?”

The woman kissed his brow then his lips when he sat up to accommodate her.

She reached for something, but Eli caught her hands.

“No, we don’t need that,” he told her.

“You were the one who insisted on the condoms.” Eli dropped the phone on the bar counter. The video still played. “Does that look drunk to you?”

It didn’t. Not even slightly. Slade watched them undress. Though the Slade in the video held the phone with one hand, recording them, she took the video like an expert. Slade herself doubted she could be that skillful.

“I know about the barn,” Eli said, dragging Slade’s focus to him.

Her mouth still agape thanks to the video, she gasped.

Eli lowered his voice, going so far as to hold her shoulder. “I know about the barn. I’ve seen...I’ve seen it.”

The wave of anger to flood through Slade ebbed when she shrugged his arm away. “Who told you?”

I did.

Slade stared at the floor, praying her own condition wasn’t as obvious.

“You can answer her,” Eli said. “Now everything’s making a lot more sense. I know you hear something. You don’t have to fight it. You can answer.”

As generous as those words were, Slade hated them—she hated him for having the nerve to fashion said words then utter them in her presence.

“Look at the end of this video,” Eli challenged. “You’ll want to see this.”

What Slade wanted to do was to throw the phone in his face and march away in a huff. The desperation in his eyes drove her to look down at the screen. It was only petting and kissing but the tenderness of it wasn’t lost on her.

In the video, Eli kissed the woman’s throat, pulling her closer to him. Slade? She held the phone up and stared directly into the camera.

“Feed,” the creature said. “You feed.” She paused and licked Eli’s cheek. “Or I will.”

Eli sat up. “You want to feed on me?”

The woman grinned. “Would you let me?” He hesitated but she laughed. “It’s a joke.”

“I’m not allowed to but...would it help you?”

Slade put her thumb against his lips and promised, “I’d never do that to you.” But she looked straight at the camera again and the image faded.

Heart pounding out of her chest, Slade struggled to regain control of her body. She patted her chest, confused.

“It took me over?”

Eli pocketed the phone and held her shoulders. “I’ve commissioned a soothsayer. We’ll go to her and we’ll tell her what’s wrong. We’ll tell her everything and pay to have her tell us how to fix it. They can see beyond our reality. That can even talk to the Fates and influence our destinies for the right price. We’ll—”

“We’ll nothing.” Slade boxed his hands down. “Messing with fate is a dangerous game, one that’ll likely come with unforeseen consequences. My situation’s already in the shitter. You saw it yourself, that wasn’t me on that video. And whatever it was, it was more than ready and able to bleed you dry. For once, be smart and keep out of my affairs.”

Mouth agape, Eli stared at her. He looked helpless.

“Why must you do this? Ma’am, I wasn’t with you on a whim. And I know you have feelings for me. So why deny them?”

Slade’d heard enough. She nudged Trixie and the harpy yanked Manny to his feet.

“Sovereign?” Eli called after her. “You owe me an answer. Why won’t you let me help you? Why don’t you let us try to be more?”

Without looking back, Slade answered, “Because you keep calling me Sovereign. Ma’am isn’t an affectionate term for a lover.”

“That’s why you told me to think of a nickname. And I gave you it. Then you went and threw it away.”

Of that he was probably right, but she didn’t pause to entertain the argument.

Manny flopped over in Trixie’s arms, but the harpy caught up. “Boss, did you really? You know. You’re the one who always said never bed a wolf. And that’s advice you’d give to me. How you gon’ go against the most basic natural law? Vampires and werewolves stay outta each other’s genes. They’re territorial or something.”

“It’s Eli,” Slade reminded her, “he’ll be gone before long. We have to meet back with the others and get this botched feeding sorted. No wonder those fucking fairies came so late.”

Trixie adjusted her hold, nodding. “You’ve got a point. They do ever so love to come midday when people are suffering the most. That why you stayed away?”

It wasn’t. Being gone on Tax Day was stupid—it was suicide. And now she’d have to bear the consequences.

Trixie looked back at the bar then leaned in and whispered. “He ain’t left yet, boss. And he’s got that look. You know dat look when someone owes you money and you know it’s their payday. Kinda one-a dem looks.”

Slade ground her teeth. She didn’t want to appear weak. “Just tell me the damn Fae are gone at least.” The thought of the gold coin in her pocket made her turn and bang her head against the wall. “I can’t afford this.”

Harpies were dumb, lazy, useless...and loyal. “Trixie’s got some—”

“No.” Slade drew the line at all of them ending up broke and infirm. “No. You start giving away your runes and you’ll have none for yourself. I’ll pay it—I’ll find a way.”

Thud.

Something slammed against the wall, on the other side.

Cautious, Slade backed away. “Trix?” she called.

It wasn’t often Trixie was a quick study, but for all things underhanded, she never missed a beat.

“I see ‘em.” Trixie hefted Manny but kept a close watch on the wall. “All-a demn arguing. Saying...saying...a....” She paused and looked to Slade for help. “Maybe I’m losing my touch.”

A harpy’s gift of foresight couldn’t get far. With no way to go back once it started, Slade hurried to indicate the wall.

“What’s the problem? Tell me, anyway,” Slade instructed.

Trixie went back to watching the chipped paint. “It’s the same word again. Monkey. Something about...about a monkey.” She slowed then gasped. “Blood.”

Slade trembled. Primate blood, the closest substitution for humans. Desperation had led to strange measures. It did one thing, though, it wiped out any primate in the entire country. Every zoo was emptied within a matter of months. As it stood, the importation of primates of any kind was outlawed.

Rumors came and went about vampire factions in Asia and Africa still functioning, safeguarding their primate supply with firepower and violence untold.

There were no primates left. But Trixie was rarely wrong. The next words out of her mouth made Slade’s blood run cold.

“Her wolf friend.” Looking equally terrified, Trixie told Slade, “Sir, I think we have a problem.”

She didn’t have to say it. The piss-blood put before her twenty minutes ago said it all.

“I suppose there’ll be a new Sovereign soon enough. Huh, Trix?” Slade forced a smile, hoping for one in return. Nothing. She got nothing for her efforts. “They mean Eli.”

Trixie nodded. “Without a proper feed, that madness’ll come faster. Once the Wolf Brigade leaves, it’ll just be the Fae...or....”

“Or the lone wolf whose death they can blame on me.” Slade closed her eyes and sighed. Interfering with a set future had dire consequences, but there was wiggle room. “How long before this plays out? Is it safe to take countermeasures?”

It took some effort for Trixie to heft Manny up against her shoulder. “Aye, it’s safe. If I’ve seen it, it can’t be changed but I ain’t seen ‘em do it. Just plan.” With her left hand, Trixie touched the wall. “The first part’s starting. Maybe...seven minutes before they settle on slitting your w—hey, wait.”

Slade didn’t look back. She was already halfway down the hall when Trixie gave chase.

“Think,” Slade told herself. “Think!”

But why think, darling? We both know the only way Eli’s leaving, is with you. I made certain of that. We didn’t go through four condoms for nothing.

Teeth gritted, Slade slowed in her stride. “Shut. Up.”

But the bitch was right. Eli wasn’t about to leave. Not with all he knew.

At the doorway, the Wolf Brigade gathered and Lomos ordered his men, “Keep this under wraps. No talking to the press.”

The Fae even shuffled around, making themselves comfortable in that booth. With all the free booze they’d get for the night, why not?

It was true. Between the wolves and the Fae, the wolves were a more forgivable target. Armed with that knowledge, Slade made her way to Marrow.

The plump pixie eased off his chair in the booth and fluttered to her, smug and satisfied.

“Come to apologize? Well.” Marrow tucked his fingers into his vest pockets and turned up his nose. “I won’t accept. Not without a good deal of groveling—”

Slade planted her left foot and kicked him in the face with all her might.

He propelled back, flipping over like a toy in freefall. His wings stopped flapping and he plummeted to the ground, unmoving.

The room fell silent, all patrons stunned. But she wasn’t finished.

Of the three remaining fairies, two wisely ducked down, leaving the woman Fae to fend on her own.

“You ugly, smelling, rancid, sick sacks of shit,” Slade drawled. She slammed her hands down on the table causing the Fae to shriek. “Do you know what the best part of you lot is? It’s the smell. It’s that palpable, rancid, odious smell that follows you everywhere you go. You need all your magic to mask it from the wolves. But you can’t mask that from the vampires—not when we feed. Is that why you did what you did?”

At a loss, the female Fae looked around for help. “I—”

Slade slapped her with all the energy she had left.

The shriek it tore from the Fae’s mouth came with tears.

“That,” Slade said, “was a trick question, bitch. I don’t care.”

Lomos, frozen with his hands mid-waist to unhook his kilt and wear it like a cape, looked on. “Slade.... You were my Sovereign once. And as my Sovereign....” He finally left his clothing intact and approach. “I can give three gold coins for this. But please stop. Stop now.”

Eli eased off his stool. Slade didn’t have to look; he was coming.

With a frown of affection, Slade touched the fairy’s hand. “I should apologize. Fairy bodies get brittle when lopped with insults.”

Nodding, the fairy fought back her tears. Her voice vibrated with that squeaky echoing effect they were so fond of using. “Yes. We are quite fragile.”

“Like this?” Slade slammed her fist down on the woman’s arm.