Slade slept soundly on the mattress and Trixie watched the table, face creased in worry.

“He didn’t wait for me.”

That was three hours ago. Eli worried less about that moron Manny ending up even more undead and more so about him leading anyone back here.

“He coulda waited.”

Was she out of her mind? “That’s one of the strongest vampires on Earth you’re worried about.”

But she did. The way she hunched, arms on the table, face buried there, spoke of distress.

Eli sat up, stunned. “You like him—”

“A do nyot!”

She might have been more convincing if she didn’t pull her right wing close and stroke it.

With a heavy sigh, Eli broke the news to her. “He’s...he’s...he’s never been a fan of.... He’s never been—”

“Not a day went by that he didn’t let me know it. A know it.” Trixie shrugged. “Besides, vampire’s ain’t got nothing to offer meh. They can’t even get hard without blood in dem anyway. He’s only lucky he got some Fae in ‘im now.”

Brow narrowed, Eli cocked his head. “What? You...he and you—?”

She gagged. “Urg. What do you take meh for? I just mean in theory. Da dead is still dead.”

Her hand went to work stroking that right wing yet again.

“It still hurts?” Eli asked.

Trixie didn’t often react to self-pity. “He kicked me right here. It’s been years. But A still feel it.”

The way she stared at the table meant she was working on a conflict of her own. Eli prayed it didn’t involve anything to do with liking Manos Dresden. He might look pitiful now, but he was a cold-blooded killer...and an asshole.

His thoughts fell to Slade, as they often did, more importantly, to her sudden bouts of affection.

“Can I ask you something?”

Trixie pulled her jacket up to cover her wings. “So long as it’s not about Legion.”

Eli made a groan. “What is—?”

“That, I can’t answer.”

“Well, how do you get rid of it?”

“Can’t answer that neither.”

“Well, can you tell me how you recognize it? In the courthouse, her back was to you.”

Trixie held her jacket closed with one hand. “Can’t tell you dat neither.”

Eli let out a sigh. “Please,” he begged. “I want this—I want to be with her, but I can’t, not if it’s not her.”

For a long while, Trixie stared at him. Finally, she broke eye contact and muttered. “Legion can’t stare at you head on.”

As miniscule as this bit of information was, Eli’s heart leapt. “Ever?”

Trixie shook her head. “Predators can’t look at prey head on.”

Her cringy choice of words aside, it was valuable information.

A bang came from the door. Trixie leapt to her feet but Eli caught her by her jacket.

“We don’t know who that is.”

“Course we do.”

Eli hesitated.

Trixie sighed and reached behind her, under her jacket. The size of the dagger she revealed had him flinching.

“Fine. Are you happy now?”

Satisfied with remote level of defense, Eli went about unbolting the door.

Manny, once leaning back against it, crashed to the ground. His hands were empty.

Eli wanted to kick him. “Where’re the rabbits!”

Pouting, Manny pointed to his own mouth.

“You....”

Trixie took him by both hands and dragged him in before Eli could stomp on the useless excuse for a big brother.

“She needed it more than you.”

But Manny took the scolding in stride. He looked up to Trixie and pointed at his mouth.

“What?” Trixie leaned in. “There’s something in his mouth.”

Eli cringed but was equally hopeful. “A mouse, maybe?”

“Can’t get much runes from mouses,” Trixie complained. She helped Manny stand. “Give it here.”

After she held out both hands, he gaped and allowed something wet and slimy to fall into her grip.

Eli recoiled. “What in the hell?”

The harpy stared at it, confused and unmoving. After a short moment, she looked choked up.

“Honey?” She met Manny’s gaze. “You got this for Trixie?”

Wearing a fat grin, Manny turned to reveal his back and the large gash there.

There’d be no sense in scolding him after that. There was also no point in trying to treat it—it wouldn’t heal. Not without a proper feed.

Manny looped his arms around Trixie who analyzed him like an enigma.

And then Manny kissed her. She yelped.

Her body was slow to defrost at first but when it did, Eli turned his head rather than watch them.

“Gift,” Manny declared. “You mad?”

Trixie mulled over those words for some time before she broke his gentle hold.

“Don’t get me no more gifts. You hear?”

The vampire blinked two pale brown eyes at her.

“You hear! You don’t get me no more gifts.”

Flinching, Manny nodded.

“Trix.” Slade opened her eyes and tried to stand from the mattress. “What you getting upset ‘bout?”

“Look at the gash on him. And for what? For this?”

Eli hurried to help Slade stand.

“Then throw it away if you don’t want it. But don’t get upset. He doesn’t know any better.”

“The shower only catches rainwater, Trix, I’m sorry.” Eli looked around. “But you can drop it someplace.”

“Told you to get the entire thing,” Manny muttered. “You try getting the entire thing since it’s so easy—well she doesn’t like it—she likes it fine! It’s just an ugly harpy, what’d you care? You’re the one that cares—you wasted our time. Shut up—you shut up.”

He walked off, muttering to himself.

No one watched but heard as he flopped down against the wall shortly after. When he curled up on the floor and found slumber, Trixie still didn’t look away from the honey in her hands.

“Harpies don’t need sweets. It was just a lie in fairy books.” She reached into her inner jacket pocket for a handkerchief and wiped the mess clean. Still, she tucked the cloth back into her inner pocket yet again.

Eli felt sorry for her. Unlike their distant cousins, the Fae, harpies weren’t known for either grace or beauty. That was probably the main reason Trixie kept covered, even on the hottest day. Hell, Eli never realized her curves until Manny took interest in them.

Still holding Slade up, Eli said, “Trix, you want the bed?”

With a kiss of her teeth, Trixie jumped up and flipped. She didn’t land. Her talons gripped the ceiling, sending debris falling as she found purchase and crouched up, much like Manny. Her natural runes would keep her from falling, at least.

“Trix?” Eli struggled with something to say.

“Leave her.” Slade slipped form his grip and landed on the mattress. Her lack of complaints almost made her state seem tolerable.

As she lay, Eli took great interest in her. He wanted to join her in there but was unsure.

It can’t look you in the eye, he reminded himself.

Slade cringed at how Eli watched her. He was slow to lay and let out a sigh of relief when she didn’t protest.

“Why’re you looking at me like that?”

“Am I?” Eli cleared his throat. He still held her gaze. When he put his hand on her waist and she regarded it, he let go and guided her chin back to him.

It was just out of surprise why she turned away, not for anything sinister.

“Have you changed your mind?” Eli asked, hopeful. “Ma’am if—”

“You can’t keep calling me ma’am. Please stop calling me ma’am. Look at me. How am I deserving of any title? Look at me.”

But she looked bold, even now. And strong, despite her frail body.

“Can I ask you something?”

Face pressed into his throat, she nodded.

“You’ve liked me? For how long now?”

Till now, she’d always been either forthright or deflected. The silence was a new tactic. Pride never looked good on her. He didn’t back down as he hazarded a guess.

“If I’d known about the barn sooner...?”

It wasn’t just silence now; she was rigid. That response spoke volumes. Two years now. He’d known for two years and she...they....”

“I wouldn’t have let you close,” she confessed. “Nothing that comes close to me lasts. I’d rather have your friendship.”

The sentiment was foolish. “But we—”

“Could what?” She waited then challenged, “Could what? Will you go strolling arm in arm with me through the park? When they spit on you for doing that, and when my kind spits on me for doing that, then what?”

Each word reminded him how fleeting this all was—this embrace, this trust.

“There is no in between for us. Even back then before you made your selection—”

“You made that selection,” he insisted, unfamiliar with this anger. “I wouldn’t have made it. I would have waited on you.”

“To what end, Eli?” She was rarely patient but today she earned that badge. “What was supposed to happen back then? The lone wolf of his family who kept from getting snipped marries the sister of the one to order the mutilation?”

The words came out bitter and he choked on equally surly words of his own.

“Or did you mean before that? Before all that? Was I supposed to keep you in wolf form forever? Huh? Carry you around? Huh? Wait for the dog years to catch up to you and you die before me? Which time was best? Which instance was worth all the effort it’d take?”

“I would have come out of the wolf,” Eli told her. “For you, I would have.” When he let out his next breath, his drive left with it. “Eventually.”

Eventually.

That was a lie. He’d been happy that way. He took his first steps on two legs to save her. A werewolf’s wolf aged faster. It was slower than that of a pure wolf but faster than a man’s. Time spent in that form—extended time spent in it lessened the human years more and more. Most werewolves risked a few years here and there. The standard was to leave the wolf side to mature until adulthood. But all werewolves were born as wolves and shifted. All but Eli who’d refused—who’d been too weak to.

“There is no place for us—for this. So no, two years ago, ten years ago, nothing would have changed. I’d still be on this side of the war and you on yours. And admittedly, yours was the more justifiable.”

Until yesterday, he might have believed that.

Seeing werewolf after werewolf, those bound to her by oath, help tie her down in the sun had shattered all pretense that this was a fair and noble fight.

What had Slade done to deserve all that? This was a chance for her—a good chance. With power and some allies, she could force the other children of Runes to restore some of the vampire’s prestige. At the very least, put in some safeguards. A creature with no power earned no seat at the table. They could even bluff—make everyone believe humans were back and vampires would rise again. Once the laws were written, nothing could change them.

It was now or never.

“The gorilla....”

“Is no option.” Slade hung her head. “It’s no option. You must have known that from the start. It’s no option, Eli. It’ll never been an option.”

The finality in those words broke him. What was he supposed to do with it? He never even thought past this point of his original plan. Now what?

She snuggled closer to him and he let out a sigh. No rabbit, no primate, nothing. No blood to give her. It was late out but maybe he could catch something. When he tried to go, she tightened her grip.

“Don’t leave.”

Eli gave in. They’d figure it out in the morning. And not just figure out. He’d threaten slit that thing’s throat if he had to, she had to feed.

A werewolf’s sense of time was impeccable. Eli was no different. It was early in the morning when he awoke to the sound of flesh striking flesh. It came with a grunt and a mewl. Eli skinned up his face, praying that harpy wasn’t trying to do something quietly in a corner with Manny.

A guttural wail sounded and Eli shot into a sitting position. Slade wasn’t far behind. Trixie landed seconds later.

Only a hungry gulping tore through the stillness.

“No.” Eli gasped. He stood and tapped the walls, illuminating the earth runes that glowed when disturbed. “No. No,” he begged.

He rushed to the glass but was too late. The gorilla lay motionless, clinging to life as Manny, teeth lodged in the thing’s throat, drank his fill.