Ben was feeling quite pleased with himself when he stepped out of the shop with Rik just behind him. Two doors down the nightclub was blaring drum and bass and the shouting of drunken adolescents who had no notion of how loud they were being drifted down the street.

The street darkened as Rik flicked the lights off in the shop and pulled the door shut. The jingling of keys as Rik locked the door was drowned out by a sudden furious scream.

Ben wheeled around in time to see the dark shape of a man come around the side of the building. Rik turned too and was momentarily too surprised to act, as was Ben.

Ben saw the wicked shine of the knife and rushed forward but his hesitation had cost him the time he needed to stop the attack. Rik gasped as the blade was buried in his abdomen.

Ben’s fist hit the attacker too late and sent him crashing into the brick wall hard enough to knock him out cold.

“Oh!” Ben moaned as a burst of pain tore through his gut sending a ripple of fire across his midsection. And then the sensation was gone leaving Ben confused and a tiny bit concerned. It must have been some sort of witchcraft. Had the Coven sent another attack even after agreeing to a deal?

“Rik?” Ben said, turning back to his friend. Rik was on his knees with both hands around the hilt of the knife that was embedded in his midriff. “Oh, shit. I can heal you.” Ben remembered that Aiden had used his blood to heal wounds and he hoped that he could now do the same for Rik.

“I’m all right,” the warlock mumbled. Clearly, that was not the case since there was a knife sticking out of his mid-section and his t-shirt was stained with blood.

“You’re really not.” Ben pointed at the offending blade.

Rik tightened his grip on the weapon and slowly pulled the knife out. His face tightened and the blade seemed reluctant to withdraw. Ben felt a weird tingle in his own abdomen that he knew was more than mere sympathy pains.

“Rik?” Ben said, his tone significantly less friendly. “Would you care to explain why I can feel that?”

The knife came free making a wet kissing sound. “Ah,” Rik said awkwardly, his arm falling to his side. “Maybe we should go back inside and talk about this.” Rik’s usual confidence had ebbed but it had not vanished. Clearly, he thought he was going to be able to talk his way out of this.

“Yes. I take it this is one of the Coven’s lackeys?” Ben pointed down at the unconscious man who was heaped on the floor. Clearly, Christine could not be trusted since she’d sent yet another attacker after Rik despite Ben having done everything she’d asked. He’d endured that insufferable date for nothing.

“No.” Rik stared down at the fallen man with remorse. “He’s my step-brother.”

Ben gave Rik a withering look before grabbing the stepbrother and heading back inside the shop. As soon as Ben dropped the unconscious man on the floor, Rik dropped to his side. Rather than checking on his condition, the warlock started rifling through his pockets.

“Seriously?” Ben asked. He locked the front door and pocketed the key just in case Rik’s step-brother saw an opportunity to escape.

“I need to find… Uh-huh!” Rik pulled from the man’s inside pocket a small velvet pouch. It looked like the sort of bag an old man kept his marbles in.

“What is it?” Ben asked, wondering why Rik was so pleased with his discovery.

“A sacdesim,” Rik said, pushing himself off the ground and stepping away from his step-brother. Apparently, he was not going to elaborate.

“Oh, of course,” Ben said, letting his sarcasm pour out through his tone. He was already angry enough without Rik annoying him further. “What is that?” he demanded.

“Hmm? Oh. It kept him hidden. It’s the reason neither of us noticed him lurking out there until he screamed. The true question is who made it for him?”

“He couldn’t have just made it himself?”

Rik sighed as though he were growing tired of Ben’s questions. “He’s not a witch. He’s totally human.”

“But he’s your… step-brother. Relative through marriage.”

“There you go, you caught up fast. Well done.”

In sudden a burst of frustration, Ben batted the velvet bag from Rik’s palm and gave the warlock a shove hard enough to make him stagger across the room. “How about you tell me why I felt it when you got stabbed!”

“Okay, okay, calm down!” Rik said quickly, taking a few more steps back to create more distance between them as if Ben couldn’t close the gap in the blink of an eye. The crystals that hung around his neck banged against one another as he raised his hands. One of those crystals was a black obsidian stone just like the one that Ben wore. The one that Rik had given him.

Ben pulled the necklace over his head and held it out before him. “A souvenir from the ritual?” He tossed it at the warlock. It smacked against Rik’s chest and fell to the floor.

Rik, a man who usually had more than his fair share to say, was suddenly lost for words. He stared vacantly ahead as his mind rooted around for the right words to diffuse the situation. Ben waited patiently, eager to hear Rik’s explanation for this subterfuge.

“I completely understand that you are incredibly vexed right now, however, I implore you to consider this from a position of logic.”

Never had Rik’s abuse of vocabulary infuriated Ben more. “I’ll try my best,” he growled, nostrils flaring.

“Do recall, that you made a compact to protect me in exchange for me helping you defeat Theo. True it may be that you never granted me permission to bind us in this way, it does fall within the scope of your protection.” Rik squatted down and plucked the obsidian necklace off the floor. “This does not harm you.”

“I felt it—”

“Yes, you felt it. However, what you felt was but a minuscule of the pain a stab wound actually inflicts. And, had we not been bound together then right now I would be bleeding to death outside and you would have failed in your duty to protect me.”

“Do you seriously think I’m going to accept that?” Ben demanded.

“I thought it was about fifty-fifty,” he said with a shrug. That shrug was enough to roil up Ben’s insides.

“Seriously? You’re just shrugging like this is nothing?” Heat was gathering up inside him, forcing itself up through his body. Any second now he was going to explode.

“Oh, stop it!” Rik snapped. His dark hair bounced as he threw his arm up in frustration. “Do you have any idea how scared I was? Do you? I have been bullied and beaten and abused my whole life—just like you! You know how that feels. You know how that vicious craving for power gnaws at you from the inside out. You don’t crave the power out of greed or for any nefarious purposes, you crave it for protection. You need it to build a shield of armour around yourself to stop your abusers from hurting you ever again!”

Ben’s stepped back, taken by surprise by Rik’s sudden tirade.

“Every stage of my life has brought new tormentors. That’s something you know all about, isn’t it? You were bullied as a child too. You were picked on because you were small and weedy, and I was picked on because my eyes were too narrow and slanted. Do you know how it feels to have the other kids at school mock your heritage by bowing when you walk past? Even those who were supposed to protect me turned on me in one way or another. My own mother washed her hands of me. I killed the man who hurt me. I killed him and I stole from him the power that I thought would keep me safe. But it didn’t. It didn’t protect me from the ancient vampire who rolled into town and forced me to do his bidding, and it can’t protect me from the coven of witches who should have been all the protection I ever needed.” Tears filled his eyes as his furious monologue began to wind down.

“My coven didn’t protect me and my own mother didn’t protect me. They turned on me instead. And yes, you offered your protection. For a price.”

“You set that price, not me. You made the offer,” Ben argued, unwilling to be blamed for their arrangement.

“Yes. I did. But can you blame me for not putting all my faith in you and you alone? I’ve been abandoned and betrayed at every turn. So I cast a little spell. A tiny little spell that allows me to piggyback off your immortality. It costs you nothing. Nothing. And it keeps me alive when people try to kill me.” He pointed at his step-brother was still snoozing on the floor. I am sorry that I didn’t ask your permission. I genuinely am, but I have been forced to stand on my own for so long…” Rik trailed off as the fire gave way to water and his tears started to flow.

Ben’s own anger had dissipated, drowned out by the tidal wave that Rik had unleashed. He was ashamed of how much he related to every word Rik had spoken, ashamed to admit that he’d spent his whole life being downtrodden. Ben had never imagined that somebody might have had a worse time than him, and yet here Rik was to show him it was so. At least Ben had always been able to rely on his parents to support him. Never once had they turned him away.

Ben and Rik had both started in similar positions, they’d both sought out the power to change their situations and reverse their roles in the world, they’d just taken different paths. And yet those paths had converged and brought them together. Now, here they were relying on each other.

Ben strode forward and snatched the necklace from Rik’s grip. “This can’t hurt me?” he asked, holding the stone in front of Rik’s eyes.

The warlock shook his head. “It allows me the same invulnerability that you have. It replicates the power, it doesn’t steal it. What you felt when I got stabbed was an echo of the wound. Nothing more.”

“I hate being kept in the dark and I hate being lied to. Next time you want to pull something like this, make sure you ask me first.” Ben pulled the string over his head and let the necklace fall back into place around his neck. “Lie to me again and we’re done.”

Rik’s eyes flicked downward. Whether it was shame at all he’d just admitted or shame from having to rely on Ben to protect him, Ben did not know, but he recognised shame well enough since he’d worn it often enough himself.

“Thank you,” the warlock mumbled.

A small groan signalled that their guest had finally regained consciousness.

“It was nice of him to let us finish talking before waking up,” Ben said, turning around.

The stepbrother blinked several times as he eased himself up onto his elbows.

“Actually, he woke up a while ago. He’s been pretending and he thought I didn’t notice,” Rik said. He was glowering at his step-brother.

“You didn’t think that was worth mentioning before letting him listen to our entire conversation?”

Rik tutted loudly. “It’s not like our conversation was top secret, Ben. Besides, you have the power to literally erase his mind.”

“I literally do not,” Ben replied. He remembered the first time he’d tried mesmerising Leon all those weeks ago. It had failed, forcing Ben to resort to more forceful mesmerisations, and now he was haunted by white socks. “Why is he even attacking you anyway?”

The stepbrother got in before Rik could answer. “You murdered my dad!” he growled as he climbed to his feet. His hands were balled into fists at his sides but now that he wasn’t able to sneak up on Rik he didn’t dare move any closer.

“He deserved it,” Rik replied. For once he was totally still, all his usual energy reserved.

“No, he didn’t. No one deserves to be sacrificed in some dark ritual like that.”

“You know what he did, Stuart. Don’t pretend you don’t. If you know I killed your dad then you know why.”

Ben had been intrigued about who Rik had killed and why ever since David had first mentioned it, but now that he was having the mystery revealed to him, he suddenly wished to be somewhere far away. The atmosphere in the room could only be described as unpleasant. If he didn’t have to protect Rik then he would have slowly backed out of the room rather than staying and being forced to feel like he was intruding on a private moment.

“My dad would never—”

“Don’t you dare try to defend him!” Rik shouted and his step-brother flinched. Colour crept up his face. “How many bruises did he decorate your body with? Well, that was nothing compared to what he did to me. Nothing.” The last word he spoke in a pained whisper. Rik turned to Ben and despite the anger the warlock wore, Ben could see the hurt and the desperation beneath it. “I’ve had enough.”

Ben nodded and shot across the room, gripping Stuart by the throat so he couldn’t speak. “Be still,” he ordered and Stuart stopped struggling.

“Wait,” Rik said suddenly. Ben turned back his way. “Who made the sacdesim for you?” he asked Stuart.

Stuart’s cheeks flushed and his eyes stared at the little velvet bag on the floor. Then he turned his gaze on Rik, his eyes filled with malice. “Who do you think? Your mum.”

Rik’s jaw tightened and his chin trembled. “I’m done,” he said in a whisper before turning away.

Ben pulled Stuart by the chin until their eyes met. “Leave here and don’t ever come back. You will never speak about what Rik did and you will never seek revenge again. Your father was a monster. Accept it and move on with your life.”

As soon as Ben released him Stuart got up and left without a word. The door closed quietly behind him leaving only the silence of the shop. Ben didn’t turn around right away. He gave Rik time to compose himself. He couldn’t imagine what kinds of emotions were running rampant inside Rik, but he knew that if it were him he wouldn’t want people to see him, so he gave Rik a minute.

“I suppose you want to know what that was all about,” Rik said quietly, his voice shaking.

Ben still didn’t turn around. He’d heard more than enough to know exactly what that was all about. He knew that Rik’s stepfather, the man who was supposed to have acted like his dad, had abused him. He did not know exactly how he had done so and Ben did not want to know either. He didn’t need to. “Not at all,” was all he said. And then, “Shall we go home?”

The drive home was silent. Rik had retreated into his own mind and Ben had no idea what to say to bring him out of it. He didn’t even know if he should try to bring him out of it. Maybe it was best to let him process what had happened.

“She told him,” Rik said quietly as Ben parked the car.

“What’s that?”

“My mum. She told Stuart what I did. She gave him the sacdesim.” He was still halfway inside his own mind. His voice was tiny and mouselike. Once again Ben was at a loss for words. “I told her what he’d done to me. Before I killed him I told her.” Rik shook his head. “She tried to play off as not being that bad. Said I was being dramatic. I thought she was just scared of him. So I handled it myself.” He fell silent and stared vacantly through the windshield. He wasn’t seeing the car park in front of him, he was back in that memory. Ben wondered if the memory of his revenge brought him pleasure or pain.

“After I’d done it I went back to tell her and…” he sighed painfully. “She said she’d never tell anyone what I’d done because she loved me, but because I’d killed the man she loved she never wanted to see me again.”

Ben’s eyes widened at Rik’s story. “That’s…horrendous.”

“Mmm,” Rik nodded in agreement. “And she told Stuart. She told him after she said she’d never tell anyone. And she gave him a tool to sneak up on me. My own mother betrayed me.”

Ben’s own mother had loved him more than she’d loved anybody. At least that was how it seemed from his perspective. Her family was her world. Ben didn’t even want to think about how it would feel if she’d ever turned her back on him. If anybody had ever dared to abuse Ben under her roof she would have ripped them to shreds with her bare hands. That was how a mother should be. “Your mother doesn’t sound like much of a mother to be honest,” Ben said. His words were feeble but they were all he had to offer.

Rik blinked and it was like he blinked the whole sorry affair away. He sighed lightly and his mouth stretched into a familiar smile. “Well, you know what they say, if your family disappoints you just cast them aside and build a new one.”

Ben had not heard that expression before but he was happy to go along with it if it made Rik feel any better.

“By the way, since my mother probably won’t be wanting me to return to the family home any time soon, it looks like I’ll be moving in with you a little more permanently,” Rik said and before Ben could offer any response, he hopped out of the car.

His phone pinged with a text message from Grace. She’d arranged another date and Ben’s security services were once again required.

By the following night, Rik was back to his usual self and it was as though the incident with Stuart had never happened. When Ben left to collect Grace, Rik was sitting on the floor surrounded by several notebooks, and he refused to tell Ben what he was up to. Not that Ben cared that much, he was just glad that his friend’s mood was back to normal. He knew that Rik was still troubled by his mother’s betrayal, but for now, he’d pushed that aside and thrown himself into whatever it was that he was working on.

“You’re not dressed like a chauffeur this time,” Grace said as she climbed into his car. Ben had chosen a more casual attire for her second date with Kieron. Black jeans and a dark green dress shirt seemed more suitable for the chosen venue.

“Well, the suit would have stood out a bit at Hollywood Bowl,” Ben retorted.

Grace snorted and gave Ben a once other, no doubt assessing his attire once more. “You look better in jeans.” With her vaguely dismissive tone it was impossible to tell if she was giving a compliment or an insult. Probably a bit of both.

Ben raised an eyebrow. “Thanks?”

Grace lifted her phone and was instantly absorbed by the screen. Her thumbs tapped aggressively as she typed and it sounded like she was tapping out a beat. After several minutes of exchanging messages, presumably with Kieron, she dropped the device into her lap.

“He’s running late,” she said. Patience was apparently not her strong suit.

“I see,” Ben said, keeping his eyes on the road.

“So, I was thinking about going on a picnic for date number three,” she said, her voice taking a sweet, cherub-like quality. “You know, cute blankets, green grass, cocktail sausages…”

“Dazzling, bright sunshine? You understand how that could be a problem?” Ben said. He spared her a sideways glance and the grin on her face informed him that she was pulling his leg. “Very funny.”

“Do you ever miss the sun?” Grace asked. Her phone buzzed in her lap and her eyes flicked down but she didn’t pick it up.

“Not really. I was never a big fan of Summer anyway. I don’t like the heat. I haven’t been a vampire that long though, so maybe in a year or so I might miss it. It’s not like I can’t go out in it; it’s just not in my best interests to do so.”

“True,” she said, and although she sounded like she’d lost interest she still didn’t reach for her phone. “Maybe you could just stand behind a big UV-protected window and look longingly at the sun,” she said in a playfully mocking tone.

“Sure,” Ben said with a chuckle.

“If you’re a baby vampire why did Rik hire you to protect him?”

“That is a good question,” Ben said. He pulled on the steering wheel as he turned into the car park. “I’m a very talented baby vampire,” he replied. He wasn’t about to give away his big secret. Being a progenitor had almost got him killed once already, and he wasn’t going to give that information out freely ever. Plus he didn’t know if she was generally interested or just digging for weak points in Rik’s defences.

Grace snorted and didn’t bother asking a follow-up question; Ben had made it clear that he wasn’t going to give her the details she wanted.

Kieron was still running late by the time they made it inside so they grabbed a drink from the bar and headed over to the arcade to kill some time there. After playing the racing games several times, and Ben declining to play on the dance machine, they settled on the pool table.

“He’ll be here by the time I beat you,” Grace said confidently as she strutted over to the table. Ben watched her go, his eyes drawn to the deliberately excessive sway she put into her hips. Her jeans clung tightly to her figure showing off every curve.

Ben tore his gaze away and looked at the time, wondering why Kieron was so late. It didn’t look good to turn up to the second date over an hour late, but Ben kept his opinion to himself. He didn’t want to cause any problems for their budding relationship since as soon as they got past the dating stage his services would no longer be required. It was in his best interests to keep them happy with one another.

Grace picked up a cue and stared at the green felt table as though she were trying to solve a mathematical equation. “Is it snooker or pool?” she asked.

“Pool,” Ben replied. He lifted the other cue and began applying chalk to the tip. He didn’t know why he was applying chalk but he’d seen other people do it. He’d never actually played a game of pool or snooker, and now that he thought about it, he wasn’t sure what the difference was. But the sign on the side of the table said it was a pool table.

“What’s the difference?” Grace asked. She held out her hand and Ben tossed the chalk cube over the table. She began rubbing it on the end of the cue slowly and methodically. The rhythmic movements of her hand over the cue were far too sensual to have been an accident.

The small twitch of her lips let Ben know that she was deliberately trying to garner a reaction from him. “I think it’s got enough chalk on it,” he said.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to play with an unprepared stick.” Her facial expression was full of innocence but her eyes were nothing short of devilish.

“Trust me, it’s more than prepared.” He realised his double entendre only after he’d uttered it.

Her eyes glinted and her smile pushed up her cheekbones. “Oh really?” She twirled the cue lightly in her fingers.

“Yes, and it’s called a cue, not a stick.” He fished a couple of coins from his pocket and began inserting them into the slot on the table. “I assume I’m paying,” he said. It wasn’t a question. She’d made him pay for their drinks and for every game they’d played so far tonight. Apparently protecting Grace meant protecting her bank balance as well.

The balls thunked loudly as they rolled through the table. Grace didn’t move to grab them and Ben was left to arrange them in the triangle by himself.

“I want the spotty ones,” she said once he was finished.

“I think you have to pot one before you can claim them,” Ben replied.

“Pot them?”

“Stick them in the hole,” Ben explained and she smirked. Clearly, he was going to have to be far more selective with his word choices. Not that he wasn’t enjoying this new playful side to her.

“Let’s see how good you are at sticking them in the hole then,” she said. She leaned over the table slowly, leaning more than she needed to and very blatantly giving Ben a generous view down the front of her corset top. She pushed against the table and her breasts threatened to spill over the top of her garment. Ben pulled his gaze away and waited for her to lift the triangle from the table.

“You know if you’d gone to the end of the table you wouldn’t have had to lean quite so much to reach it,” Ben told her.

“Where’s the fun in that?”

Ben shook his head, wondering exactly what game she was playing because it certainly wasn’t pool.

She waved her hand for him to begin the game.

“Break the balls,” she said with a mischievous wink. She was dangling the bait and he had no doubt that biting it would lead nowhere good, as tempting as it might have been.

“I don’t think they phrase it like that.” Ben tapped the white ball with more force than he intended. It collided with the triangle of coloured balls and sent them all shooting across the table. They bounced off the sides and into each other as they whizzed across the felt. It was over a minute before they finally stopped and Ben stared shamefully as not a single one was potted.

“So, you’re not so good at sticking it in the hole then,” Grace said and then snickered. “My turn.”

She walked around the table and stopped directly in front of Ben even though she would have had much better access to the white ball from almost any other position around the table. She leaned over the table again, this time giving Ben a prime view of her curvaceous behind. She took a generous amount of time lining up the cue. Ben was tempted to smack her on the backside just to speed her up.

“Seriously?” he demanded when she shook her rear end in a wholly unnecessary way. He was starting to wonder what was going on. Did she really like how he looked in jeans that much?

She glanced over her shoulder, one eyebrow arched and her lips curled in a sultry smile. “You don’t have to stand there.” Without looking, she jerked the cue forward. The white ball rolled across the table and potted the spotted red number seven effortlessly.

“Oh, would you look at that!” she said excitedly pointing at the hole the ball had gone down.

Ben stared in bewilderment. “Have you played before?” Only an experienced player could have achieved such a shot without even looking. Hell, only a master player.

She flicked her ponytail over her shoulder. “Nope. I get to go again now, right?” Her voice was angelic but her eyes dared him to accuse her of cheating. She held the cue against her body the way a dancer might embrace a pole and raised one eyebrow coquettishly.

“Yes, I believe you do get another turn,” he said.

“Winner winner chicken dinner,” she said, returning her attention to the pool table.

Ben ignored the suggestive way she positioned herself for the shot and kept his eyes trained on her lips. His experience with witches had taught him that they needed to speak to cast spells so if her lips started moving he’d know she was enchanting the balls. Her tongue flicked out and snaked across her lips slowly; if she hadn’t been concentrating so much on the ball Ben would have thought it was part of her seductive act. Her tongue retreated, her lips closed and pushed outwards moments before she took the shot. The white rolled across the table smoothly and gently tapped one of the spotted balls. Ben was pleased to see it heading for the cushion and nowhere near any of the holes. Until it suddenly changed course and veered left.

Incantation or not, Ben had no doubt in his mind that Grace was cheating. Unfortunately for her, the spotted ball clipped one of the stripes on its way to the pocket and took it down with it.

“Double bubble,” Grace said cheerily.

Ben shook his head. “Sorry to burst your bubble, but you knocked one of my balls down.” Ben walked around the table, turning his cue in his hands.

Grace’s face turned sullen and she muttered something under her breath that sounded like, “See how you like it if I really knock one of your balls.”

Ben ignored her and leaned over the table. If she was going to cheat then so would he. He didn’t have any fancy magic for precision aiming, but his increased strength should help him propel the balls to the right places just as long as his aim was good enough.

A collection of five balls had conglomerated around one of the corner pockets. Four stripes and one spot. A hard enough hit should send at least one of them down the hole, if not more.

He gripped the cue tightly, drew in a breath and held it, then thrust the cue at the white. He hit it way too hard. The white ball was propelled across the table like a torpedo. It smashed into the other balls so hard that they were flung right over the edges of the table and scattered across the floor drawing the attention of everybody in the surrounding area.

“Goon,” Grace said through her laughter. She turned to the bewildered onlookers and waved her hand to signify it was no big deal. “Don’t mind him, he’s never played pool before.”

Ben nodded as heat flooded his face. “It’s my first try,” he admitted. He got to work gathering up the runaway balls. Grace made no move to help him. She leaned on the pool table twirling the cue in her hands.

“Does this mean I win?” she asked.

Ben tried to bite back the embarrassment of crawling around on the floor retrieving all the errant balls. If only the place hadn’t been full of people he would have whizzed around and picked them up in the blink of an eye. Or maybe he would have just left them for somebody else to pick up.

“Yes, I think that probably does constitute a victory,” Ben said and then realised how much like Rik he sounded. Clearly, the warlock’s love of vocabulary was starting to rub off on him.

He dropped the balls on the table and watched them roll across the felt. Grace muttered something under her breath and Ben watched in awe as the balls potted themselves one after another.

“How did you manage that before? I didn’t see you casting any spells,” Ben said. They both placed their cues down on the table at the same time and her hand brushed against his. Neither one of them pulled back and Ben took a moment to glance at the assortment of rings that Grace wore. Three rings adored her hand and he wondered if any of them were magical. One was a G, he assumed for Grace, another was a tiara that encircled her finger, and the last was a simple band of silver encrusted with diamantes.

“Do you wonder what window the owners of Frederics went with in the end?” she asked, completely neglecting to answer his question about how she’d cheated.

“I can’t say I’ve really thought about it,” Ben admitted. With everything going on in his life a restaurant’s choice of window was pretty far from his mind.

“What’s going on here then?” somebody said from behind them.

Ben and Grace both turned around and only then did Ben notice that they were pretty much standing shoulder-to-shoulder. Kieron had turned up at last and was staring at Ben with a glare that was just a few notches below murderous.

“Ben was just keeping me company while I waited for you to turn up,” Grace said, her tone implying that she had not noticed Kieron’s hostile demeanour. “You know because you’re so late.”

“Yeah, Coven business ran over.” He rubbed unconsciously at the back of his neck and the bend of his arm showed off the menacing size of his bicep. If Ben had been human he would have found the display, deliberate or not, intimidating. “Who are you then?” he demanded, turning to face Ben.

“I’m Ben.” He made his answer deliberately vague as he extended his hand for a shake.

“Kieron.” The witch took Ben’s hand and squeezed with excessive force. The force was nothing to Ben, but had he not been a vampire it would probably have hurt a bit. Well, two could play at that game. Ben applied a little pressure of his own. He felt a bone pop and Kieron’s lips stretched in a grimace, his eyes widening just slightly in surprise and pain. When they broke the shake Kieron wiggled his fingers and Ben smiled in satisfaction.

“Ben’s an old friend and now he works as a chauffeur so I hired him to drive me around,” Grace lied. Her eyes slid his way and glowed mischievously; no doubt at calling him her chauffeur and leaving him no choice but to play along.

Kieron gave Ben another once over and wrinkled his nose in disapproval. “I know better chauffeurs than him, I can hook you up with one.”

“That’s rude,” Ben said. He wasn’t even a chauffeur but he still took offence at the putdown.

“No offence, buddy, but chauffeurs are supposed to be classy and you look pretty common.” He raised his eyebrows in an expression that said he was being as polite as he possibly could.

“Says the guy from Ringlestone,” Ben retorted. Ringlestone was one of the less savoury parts of Maidstone; it had the highest crime stats of the entire town.

Grace’s nostrils flared and she stepped between them, taking hold of Kieron’s hand. “Let’s go and play bowling. Ben can just wait in the car or something.”

Kieron shot Ben a victorious look as if he thought he’d somehow won the exchange, and then Grace led him away toward the bowling lanes. Rather than a couple, they looked like a mother leading a naughty toddler away.

“I can take you home, you don’t need him,” Kieron said as they walked away.

“No, I’ve already paid for the night now. I don’t want to waste the money,” she replied, apparently unaware of how feeble her excuse sounded.

Ben took a seat at the bar where he could still see them and settled in for an uneventful evening of watching the two of them bowl. At the end of the night, Grace had won the game, although only because she’d played with the gutter rails up. Magic wouldn’t have given her an advantage over a fellow witch.

On the drive home, no mention was made of the awkward encounter between Ben and Kieron. The conversation was light and friendly which Ben was grateful for. With the benefit of hindsight, the exchange between him and Kieron had been pretty childish and he didn’t want to talk about it. He’d rather forget the whole sorry incident, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t harbour some resentment for the Ringlestone witch. There was just no need for how rude he’d been to Ben.

After dropping Grace off at her home, Ben decided to drive through the town centre on his way home. He wasn’t sure why until he passed Frederics. He pulled over at the end of the road and took a stroll to the restaurant to see what choice they’d made regarding the new window. Apparently, he cared more than he’d realised. Or maybe he just wanted an excuse to text Grace.

He looked at the plain glass window with disappointment. They’d decided to go with cheap, ordinary, and safe, rather than something more exquisite and exciting.

He pulled out his phone and snapped a picture of the window which he sent to Grace.

Cheap and not so cheerful 😔.

Her reply was almost instant.

Oh, that’s a pity. At least I won’t lose any more sleep over that window now. Thanks for tonight btw 🥰

His heart swelled with a feeling he didn’t quite recognise. It was sweet of her to thank him for keeping her company.

No problem. Looking forward to date number 3.

Once again her reply was instant.

I enchanted the cue before we started playing

He grinned boyishly at her admission before replying.

Cheater

A bat squeaked as it darted past his head and Ben froze in terror. His shoulders tightened and the tendons on his neck stood out. He squeezed his eyes shut and reminded himself again and again that Theo was dead. He’d watched his body burn. The bat was just a bat. It was one solitary bat. It meant nothing.

After several deep breaths, Ben finally opened his eyes again. The bat was gone and he was alone on the little street. He saw movement to his right and jerked his head around. It was just the staff inside Frederics cleaning up for the night. Their presence helped to calm him. With people around it seemed less likely that something awful could happen. Not that either of the two restaurant staff could do anything against a vampire.

He headed back to his car. After taking just two steps he saw another bat darting past the buildings ahead. Then another. And another. He took two steps back on stiff and shaking legs. This could be no coincidence. In his entire life, he’d never seen more than two bats in one place, other than when Theo had summoned them.

In his head, he heard again the beating of dozens of little leathery wings. The squeaks of Theo’s colony as it had travelled across the sky. No… It wasn’t in his head. He could hear it right above him.

He didn’t want to look. Maybe if he just denied it and refused to look then it would not be so. But he was smarter than that.

Sweat beaded on his forehead and slowly he turned his face upward to the near-black sky. Bats swarmed by, blocking any sign of the moon above him. Hundreds of the little critters went past as though they had somewhere to be urgently.

The sounds of the bats vanished and all Ben could hear was the beating pulse in his ears as a monstrous creature swooped across the sky, cutting through the little bats like Moses parting the Red Sea. A human probably wouldn’t have seen it but his vampiric vision showed everything even in the dark. A whimper escaped Ben’s lips and had he not been frozen in terror he would’ve fallen to his knees.

Above him was what looked like a man who was half turned into a bat. He was the size of a man and had the limbs and head of a man, and yet two giant dark wings stretched out from his back and beat against the still night air. Pointed evil-looking ears stuck up from his head. As quickly as Ben had seen the monster it had already moved on taking its bats with it and leaving the sky empty in its wake. Darius had finally come to town.