Slade stared down at the two bowls put down for her and Eli. At the other end of the table, the werewolf glanced at the food then met her gaze as well. There was no way in hell either of them were eating any of that.

The harpy didn’t seem to mind as he sat down and reclined in his chair.

“Your dress will be a bit longer. Hope you don’t mind the robe,” Davenport drawled.

Within minutes it was a standoff, or rather, a stare-off.

As Davenport sat between them, the length of the rectangular table, he looked from one end to the next then demanded, “What?”

“What’ll it take for you to let us go?”

“Go?” The man scoffed. “I spent two hours painstakingly careful in removing twenty-four tiny silver pellets from your torso and stomach—”

“Why?” Eli demanded, with not a hint of humor.

He did have a point. Once in a while, a human was generous for no reason. That was not the case of children of Rune. Every action had a reaction. Ever favor demanded something in return. And therefore, acts of kindness came with strings. Often, literally.

“I need nothing,” the harpy announced.

Eli growled in the back of his throat, more than ready to strike.

“Eli,” Slade called. The way he calmed, looking somewhat meek was cute. “Let’s hear him out.” With no further opposition, Slade asked the man, “What are you exactly?”

Davenport recoiled, insulted. “So forward.”

“Answer her, dirtbag.”

That one command was the first time Slade could recognize Eli’s change. Eli was gentle. He wasn’t a coward necessarily, but he was a diplomat before a warrior. Seeing him so riled up was both troubling and confusing.

“Ah, that would be your addiction acting up.”

Slade asked Davenport, “Addiction?”

The harpy looked between them. “Well...yes. Silver addiction.”

Eli gritted his teeth. “What addiction? Such nonsense.”

“But I’ve seen it before,” Davenport assured him. “Grogginess. An insatiable lust for the flesh. Throwing up blood. Irritability. More than once, I’ve treated a werewolf or two whose friends shot him with a gun similar to yours or—”

“Enough of this shit.” Eli’s fist landed on the table. “What the fuck are you, creep? And when can we go?”

“Wait.” To Slade, this all sounded eerily familiar, down to the vomiting blood bit. That was how she’d awoken with Eli that morning in his room. He was lustful but hurt. Deep down, she even feared that her weakened and sickly state might have meant she fed on him in blind desperation. That wasn’t it. It was something else.

“Ma’am,” Eli said, “this is bullshit.”

Slade never took her eyes off Davenport, even when she answered, “Maybe. But I can’t let this pass.” Gaze unbending, she affirmed, “So you are a harpy?”

Davenport recoiled. “What? No—not exactly.”

“But you have the gift of foresight.”

Two rows of jagged teeth gritted. “Welll...not exactly. I’m...not really a harpy per se.”

Slade wrinkled her brow. “Then what? How do you have the gift of foresight but you’re not a harpy?”

“I...never said I have the gift of...foresight, you see.”

Eli stood.

“Okay.” Slade tightened her robe. She wasn’t sure who this guy was or what he was up to, but she wanted to at least steal this robe if she needed to run with Eli.

“Now calm down,” Davenport told Eli. “I do have a gift...a similar gift to my harpy kin. But it’s not forward.”

“Not forward? What is it? Sideways?” Eli admonished.

Davenport didn’t seem the shy type but his posture shrank when he muttered. “Hindsight.”

Even Slade groaned. “Wow. Talk about lame.”

“We all have hindsight,” Eli informed him. “It’s called a memory.”

“Now, now.” Eyes cast to the table, Davenport raised both hands at Eli. “Hindsight is equally accurate at predicting the future.”

The werewolf scoffed.

“Yes. Not many people see it that way.” Davenport told Slade—Eli was a lost cause in his efforts to find an ally. “As history repeats itself, Hindsight is actually more accurate. The future can change, but not the past. Correct? For example, looking at you two, I can see your history together. You’ve shed blood for him, and he for you. Doesn’t it stand to reason that you two will continue to do so?”

Eli didn’t advance but he didn’t sit down either—the man had his attention.

“So with that knowledge for example, for example, if I were to attack either of you, the other will likely take the blow before fighting back. Stab at you, he’ll get it in the gut. Stab at him, you’ll be the one falling on that dagger. No?”

Stunned, Slade sat back. She traded a glance with Eli who eased into his chair once more.

“That’s Hindsight. It’s just as powerful and useful as Foresight,” Davenport boasted.

Eli grumbled, “I wouldn’t be so sure.”

But it was a true gift, perhaps.

“Fine. Then how would you explain me knowing you two would continue to completion rather than end your...entanglement out of shame?” Davenport challenged.

Eli sat back, arms folded. “I’m a werewolf. Modesty isn’t our strong suit. Besides, we’re kinda known for—”

“You wouldn’t do that to her.” Davenport waited for any disagreement. He had Eli on the defensive and he’d struck a nerve. “Never. That is what Hindsight says to me. From your start to now, the idea that you’d keep going without her say so...impossible.” He turned his attention to Slade. “And you look low on runes, and you are so it’d be painful without a pulse. But as I’ve got the Hindsight to see that you’ve recently fed, I knew you’d want to indulge.”

“Recently fed?” Eli picked his head up and focused on her. “Ma’am, is that true?”

Rather than admit to anything, Slade told him, “Let’s find you some clothes and leave.”

Despite this sound request, Eli took interest in the table. He wrestled with something before asking Davenport, “So you are a soothsayer? I’ve never met a male soothsayer before. Can you prove yourself useful?”

“Well,” the harpy began, “I think I’ve more than proved it. But you’ll likely try to challenge me to a fight. In which time I’ll know from Hindsight that you favor your right and I’ll use that to my advantage to beat you. But please, let’s not waste time and runes. We have a bigger problem.”

“You drugged us,” Eli reminded him. “Why should we believe you?”

“Precisely because I drugged you.” Davenport turned to Slade. “You tried to enter my domain with a fully awakened Legion. That is a problem.”

He had Slade’s attention now as well. “How—why—how do you know that?”

“Hindsight.” The harpy ignored Eli’s groan. “I used history to install a rune that resists them. Therefore, when I saw this rune activated, I knew that the next person to enter had an active Legion. That is Hindsight. The very same as Foresight. We just have to tweak it a little. And if I’m honest, my gift is more useful because at least I was prepared. I assume you certainly weren’t.”

“Please,” Slade begged, unabashed. “What is this thing?”

Much like Trixie who avoided meeting her gaze whenever asked about this strange voice, Davenport took interest in the table.

“We are not allowed to say.”

Eli sounded gentler when he told the man, “But this is Hindsight. It’s already happened, and it won’t change the plans the Fates have set in motion. Right?”

“Hindsight or Foresight, I cannot speak about Legion. But I can speak...about the werewolf.”

Right eyebrow raised, Eli nodded. “Okay.”

Davenport turned to him. “For a price.”

“Ah, there it is,” Eli scoffed. “Right on time.”

“Nothing...nothing untoward.”

Slade raised her hand before Eli could respond again in the negative.

“What can we do for you?” That pumping heartbeat wasn’t going to last much longer but it beat erratic now in distress.

“I,” Davenport cleared his throat. “I...I need for you two to be more careful. Especially...when you make love.”

Eli’s chair moved back before he stood.

“Puppy, please,” Slade entreated him. “I get the territorial thing and it’s...honestly pretty hot but give us a second. Please.”

Letting out a muffle growl, he flopped back down again.

Slade turned her attention to the harpy—he had a lot of nerve.

“You just need us to use protection in bed? Well, all right. We can do that.” Slade’s face hurt from how hard she forced that smile. “Please. Say your piece.”

Davenport opened then shut his mouth again. After glancing at Eli, he scooted his chair closer to Slade.

“Right. Werewolves. They have two bodies. But do you know, all children of runes have two bodies. At the very least.”

This was news. “I thought only changelings and werewolves did.”

“No. All of them. There’s a healthy form, and a starved form.”

“Starved? Starved of runes?”

The nod propelled her back. As much as she knew this to be a sound judgement, she feared it was true.

“Like me—like now?”

“Exactly like now,” Davenport praised. “The reason why you lot can’t die farther is because—”

“They’re already dead.” Eli looked up from the table. His eyes looked haunted. “The runes give them a sense of...false life?”

Nose turned up, Davenport folded his arms and grumbled. “Correct. A werewolf’s original form was that of a man. Runes make them into a wolf. That’s what people think!” The harpy grinned, “But actually.”

“We were originally wolves.” Eli’s jaw dropped. “That’s why we’re born as wolves. That’s what we are—were.”

Less than pleased with having his thunder stolen, the harpy slicked back his ponytail and muttered with a hiss, “Do you mind?”

Slade tried to keep up. “So without runes...he... Werewolves—”

“Are wolves, yes.” Davenport added before Eli had the chance to interject yet again. “Simply wolves. But with their runes, they can get the gift of the human body. And live with both forms. Vampires are corpses.”

“Living corpses....” The words tasted stale. It was stupid to take it so hard, she shouldn’t have been surprised. But as she stared at that table, yet another part of her died—her last sliver of hope.

A hand put on her shoulder drew her focus. In the time of her self-wallowing, Eli’d crossed the room. When he crouched down by her side, his kilt dragging on the floor, she thought to assure him she was all right.

That’s what she meant to do when she opened her mouth but instead, she drew up her shoulders and fell into his arms.

Forced to sit fully, Eli wrapped his arms around her. “I don’t care.”

“That is true, too,” Davenport said, shattering the tenderness. “But that’s not all it does. Man gave blood to seal their covenant but they gave up—”

“Their humanity,” Eli whispered, planting a kiss on Slade’s forehead.

Scowling, Davenport sat back in a huff. He kissed his teeth. “Right. I was going to say their compassion. But humanity works fine.”

Eli continued as if he hadn’t heard the man. “That’s why when you have no runes, you get...softer.”

That made sense. “So Manny....”

“Yeah. The more power he gets—the more blood, the less likely he’s gonna be able to feel anything. I—I do think he kinda likes Trix.”

“Oh. He more than likes her. If you’re speaking of a vampire with no runes, he can love a person normally.”

Slade searched herself for any truth in that. When she met Eli’s brown eyes, she confessed, “I possessed you. You weren’t a love interest, you...you were....”

She couldn’t say it but he nodded and said it for her.

“A pet. I know.” Eli watched her with affection. “Ma’am. I know. I figured it out when Manos talked about Margarite. How he hated her after he turned. It’s an unspoken stipulation, isn’t it?”

Body trembling, Slade confessed, “Yes. We forever lose interest in the one thing we cherished. Her cherished Margarite.”

“And you didn’t love me, so you didn’t end up hating me. I’m glad.” He hesitated but he didn’t need to ask, Slade wasn’t sure what it was she lost.

“Your freedom,” Davenport offered. “What you held dear and sacrificed upon turning into a vampire was your freedom.”

Despite Eli’s warm embrace, Slade felt cold. She searched herself for any indication that it was true. When she found the answer, she gasped.

“Then I didn’t love you—I hadn’t.”

“And I don’t mind,” Eli assured her. He tightened his hold. “We’re lucky.”

“No. How’s that lucky? That....” This recent feeding was making it hard to communicate her true feelings.

“Just say something general,” Davenport suggested. “It’s not your imagination that you can’t say words such as I love you. You—vampires, literally cannot say them. That was a part of the covenant, too. And it’s not coincidental.” When she didn’t move, he urged her, “So say something general. I know you two hardly get a chance to have this sort of contact.”

That was true—that was more than true.

Face buried in Eli’s neck, Slade confessed, “That’s why I hold on to you so strong these last few years. That’s why I’m holding on. Because as agonizing as it is to be without food, the hunger doesn’t matter to me so much when I see you.”

Eli tightened his embrace.

“And I didn’t...I didn’t want to let you get close and we don’t make it and I lose you. I’d rather just be happy for you. When I’d chosen Sarah, I did it because I wanted cute new wolf pups, because her coat was so pretty. I’m sorry to say that. It was shallow.” Eli’s fingers combed through her hair and she fought through the urge to deny these stupid words. “But now...I think she takes good care of you. So I think—I thought it was good and I wasn’t mad—I was happy I’d chosen well.”

Upper body still bare, Eli wrapped himself around her.

“You should have said something sooner—I wish you had.”

Davenport snorted. “I’ll say.”

Eli stared him down until he looked away. When he was satisfied, he stole a kiss and asked, “So can we try, even if it doesn’t lead anywhere?”

“No,” Slade protested. “You’re not listening. Basic rule, vampires and werewolves don’t mix. A friendship is safe—”

“Anddd unlikely,” Davenport interjected. “More than likely, a vampire who’s fed will try to maintain that level of runes. You’re not greedy and you’re clever enough now to realize how to do that. So that’s blood flow. You having a pulse, you having urges, and your horny boyfriend humping your leg every night.”

Eli loosened his grip to stand but Slade held him down. “No. Don’t attack him.” She sat back and met Eli’s angry gaze. “Forgive the way he talks but...but look, this is good for us to know.”

Still staring the harpy down, Eli told her, “I’d already figured most of this out.”

Davenport scoffed. “Not the why.”

Slade interlocked her fingers with Eli in hopes of calming him. There was still a bigger problem on hand. “That doesn’t explain what Legion is. Is that common for the undead?”

All boasting about Hindsight faded from Davenport’s narrative when he repeated, “I cannot help you with that. I can only talk about the two forms all children of runes have. But if you think long and hard, you’ll probably figure it out. In the meantime...you’ll remember our pact?”

The sex. Slade was sure to tighten her hold on Eli when she told the harpy, “Yes. Now that I have runes, it’s probably a better idea anyway.”

He let out a sigh and sat back in his chair.

“Ma’am,” Eli protested, so uncomfortable he could hardly form the words.

Slade kissed him and promised, “I’ll put you to good use. And fine...let’s...let’s try it.” The harpy made a sound and she laughed. “Carefully.”

“Good. Today should be fine,” Davenport said, clapping his hands. “But he’s already fathered one child and—”

“Fuck this.” Eli pushed Slade to stand and got to his feet as well. “I didn’t father nothing.”

Two purple eyes darted from Eli to Slade then back again. “Fine. Fine,” the harpy conceded. “Fine. It’s in my interest, too, if I tell you. If you two have a child together, it is a problem. A big problem.”

“A child?” Slade recoiled. “Vampires can’t have full vampire children. That’s why our numbers can’t rise. Whatever we sire children with becomes that creature. Without a human to give us a child we’ll eventually turn, we’re it. We’re all there is.”

For a long moment, Davenport returned her gaze. The half huff, half laugh he gave off didn’t speak of amusement. He raised his right hand and snapped his fingers. The world faded.

The all-white turned to black. Eli’s grip on her hand was all to keep her sane. They materialized where they left off, in the parking lot. Slade looked down at herself to find her black dress clean. Beside her, Eli stood, still in his white kilt. It was night.

He dragged her close. “I thought maybe—I—”

Slade savored the embrace but was too ashamed of what it costs. “The gorilla....”

Admitting that much took all she had. Eli tightened his hold. “I know. I know. Don’t say it.”

How did they end up so far from where they were supposed to be? All of the obligations came back to Slade full force. “I want to check that none of the sick vampires have caused irreparable damage to our reputation. That’s where my focus should be—rounding them up to make sure they don’t hurt themselves further...or anyone else.”

Eli nodded. “We’ll get to it.” He hesitated then admitted, “Lomos told me about the raid.”

Slade tensed. Eyes shut tight, she asked through gritted teeth, “He told you they were going to find them?”

“You can get angry, it won’t matter. Because I’d thought...I’d thought....”

The way his tense embrace drooped was enough of a tell. “That’d it’d do some good to show people?”

“I strongly believed that—because they were harmless. But after your brother fed off that gorilla, I realized that anything starved, is probably the most dangerous.”

Despite the truth in those words, Slade held out hope. “We’ll fix them. We’ll find a way. But first....”

He trembled and then confessed, “I’ve gotten tell you something...about Trixie.”

Slade scanned the bare lot. Her eyes settled on the remnants of brown feathers scattered in the breeze. Knowing full well she wouldn’t like the answer, she turned to ask Eli, “What about her?”

Eli’s lips trembled before he said, “The—the wolves have her. Lomos’s wolf brigade.”

“Fine,” she concluded, “then we get her.”

That won’t be necessary. Where have you been?

Slade gaped her mouth to answer but instead asked, “What do you mean that won’t be necessary?”

Manos’s Legion’s summoned you. Whatever you do, don’t listen.

A howl in the night made Eli stand at attention. “Lomos is calling. It’s bad.” He asked Slade, “What do we do?”

“My Legion’s threatened to take my head if I step one foot in that direction.”

Eli nodded. “Right. So that means we’re going.”

“Of course.”