Luke decided it was too dangerous to travel at night. We didn't want to risk running into anyone looking to cause us trouble or harm, so we settled upstairs and wrapped ourselves in blankets, waiting with trepidation for the bad guys to show up. In theory, we would sleep in shifts, ready to flee out the window and down the fire escape at the slightest sign of danger. But in reality, I couldn't sleep; I lay next to him and stared out into the dark, playing the events of the day over and over in my head.

When I saw Luke fall through the window, I was sure I'd never see him again. And then I made my way back to the magic shop, and our eyes locked. We both realized we were lucky to be alive and rushed into each other's arms. He held me tight, and, in that moment, I was so happy to see him. My mind had only been full of thoughts for Luke. For a moment I had forgotten entirely about Darla. Is Darla still alive? I prayed she was, and that Luke was right, that we had time to find her.

Luke had agreed to put me through the rituals. I was going to get what I had come here for, what I wanted most in the world at the moment, but instead of feeling triumphal I was terrified. My mind was spinning with thoughts of those dark rituals. Could I, would I, survive them? And if I did, what would I become? There had never been a healer turned death dealer before. My parents would have thought such a thing an abomination. But here I was, willingly walking down this path. And once I become this mythic being—this abomination—will anyone accept me? The woman in the alley stabbed Luke just because his people communed with the dead. Once I became one of his kind, what would the superstitious populace try to do to me?

That last thought made me shiver violently.

"Can't sleep?" Luke asked. It was his turn on watch.

I rolled over and looked up at him. "I just keep wondering what tomorrow will bring."

"I'm thankful we're both still alive, which is no small miracle." He reached down and his fingers brushed the hair back from my face.

My skin flushed at the contact.

"You need to sleep." Those gray eyes watching me were filled with so much intensity I found myself looking away in embarrassment.

I pulled the blanket tighter around me. "I don't know if I can."

His fingers slid across my forehead and through my hair. "Whatever happens tomorrow, we'll face it together. Close your eyes."

I sighed out loud with pleasure and felt my body begin to relax.

"Just sleep," he whispered as his fingers stroked my hair.

* * *

I woke up to light streaming through the windows. We had survived the night. I sat up and looked down at Luke's who laid next to me still asleep. Gone from his expression was the usual anger and intensity. Sleeping Luke had a slight smile on his face which made him look younger and more vulnerable. I found myself suddenly hesitant to wake him. The moment those gray eyes opened the horror of his sister being kidnaped would settle back into them.

The enormity of what we were about to embark on chilled my blood. Off to parts unknown to rest up so I could participate in some horrific dark ritual. I know it was what I wanted most, but the thought of wielding that same dark magic that I had witnessed Luke use to battle those men was terrifying.

I forced myself to stop thinking too much about the rituals and instead to focus on what needed to be done next. I got up quietly and made my way around the broken mess strewn across the floor. The kitchen that had been turned into a disaster zone. I found the coffee pot still on the counter and working, and after some searching, I came across a bag of coffee grounds in the cupboard. I was filling the coffee pot full of water when I hand settled on my shoulder. I jumped and spun around spilling water all over the floor.

Luke gave me an apologetic smile. "Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you."

"I thought I would make some coffee."

"Darla bought a carton of two dozen eggs yesterday." The moment his sister's name was on his lips that smile disappeared. He looked at the fridge now wide open, most of its contents emptied and smashed on the floor. They had destroyed so many things in the apartment and smashed up most of the contents of the magic shop below. If they could do this much violence for no reason, what might they do to poor Darla?

I reached out and touched Luke's arm. "We will find her."

He put his hand over mine and we stood there staring at each other in silence for a long moment until he lifted his hand and gave a long sigh and then motioned towards a small set of doors next to the fridge. "I think the best I can do is some toast. Toast and jelly if the bastards didn't destroy everything in the pantry."

I started the coffee brewing and then busied myself clearing the kitchen table. Once the table was clear I went in search of plates and mugs. I found some plastic plates in a bottom cupboard and two cups that had survived. I sat down at the table and looked over at Luke. He was moving around the kitchen, his stride both graceful and powerful. But as he moved, I realized there was also this undeniable air of 'dangerous and ferocity' he wore about him— reminded me of a panther on the prowl.

Luke had fought to save us last night. The aftermath of that fight was all around us—broken furniture scattered on the floor, a crystal lampshade shattered over the desk, and across the walls and floor odd, shaped dents and scorch marks as if they had been set ablaze. My eyes swung to a corner of the room where lay a fist sized pool of dried blood. Trailing from it was reddish-brown smeared drops that tracked all the way to the front door.

When I was in the SUV the man on the phone had said Luke had taken some of the men out. I knew Luke's power was strong, but was it also deadly? Had Luke killed last night in our defense? If he had been forced to take a life, it was all my fault. Luke and his sister would have been safe had I stayed away. Somehow those men had followed me to the magic shop. It was because of me that Darla was now in danger and the guilt I felt over that was almost more than I could bear.

Luke gave me a questioning look and I did my best to compose myself. I tried for a reassuring smile, but I'm not sure if I pulled it off. I turned and peered through the windows to the empty streets below

"What time is it?" I asked.

"Close to 6," He answered. "The shops will start opening in a couple hours."

Outside everything had been washed clean by the torrid rain last night. Everything looked so calm and peaceful.

Luke brought over a plate stacked with toast slathered in jam. He slid half the toast on my plate, and we began to eat.

When the coffee was finished brewing, I got up and filled our mugs. "Hope you like your coffee black," I said sitting back down and sliding one of the mugs his way.

Luke's gaze swung to the kitchen floor. A bowl of sugar lay in pieces near the open fridge where milk still dripped from the shelves "All my life Darla and I've been warned to be on our guard when we go out. There have been small acts of violence against our kinds over the years, but never have I heard of anything like this happening."

"It's all my fault," I whispered. "I brought this trouble to your doorstep." If I had never come here, none of this would have happened. Darla would be at home safe, not out there in the hands of those mad men. My eyes began to brim with tears, and embarrassed I turned away.

I heard the chair push back and then suddenly Luke was there kneeling down on the floor in front of me. His fingers came up and he gently lifted my chin until my eyes were level with his. "This is not your fault," Luke said.

I wanted so desperately to believe him. "Do you really think Darla is still..." my voice choked on that last word.

He gave me a ghost of a smile. "My sister is still alive. I would know if something bad had happened to her. Ever since we were kids, we have had this connection. When she fell off her bike and badly sprained her wrist, in that moment my wrist also throbbed in pain. I've always known when she was hurt or injured. I know within the very depths of my soul that Darla is alive." His fingers came up and wiped away a tear. "We should get ready to go. It would be better if we left while the streets are still empty." He stood and offered me his hand.

I took it and in one firm motion, he pulled me to my feet. He was stronger than I imagined, and as he pulled me up and forward, I stumbled into him. Instead of moving quickly back, I found myself resting my head against his chest. Those strong arms wrapped around me. I closed my eyes and I listened to his heartbeat, and I reminded myself to breath. I wasn't alone in this. I had someone to lean on, someone to help me. Together we were stronger. Together we would do whatever it took to save his sister.

For a long while we just stood there in each other's embrace, until finally, reluctantly I moved out of his arms. I stood back and looked up at him. He was staring at me with such intensity, but this time I forced myself not to look away, this time I didn't blush in embarrassment, this time I just stared back at him.

He gave me a slow smile.

I could feel my pulse quicken as I smiled back.

A horn blared somewhere down in the streets below and I jumped and spun around at the noise. When I realized it was just a passing car and not danger headed back our way, I turned back and gave Luke a sheepish grin. I wondered if my life would ever go back to normal, if I would ever be able to just exist without so much anxiety, so much fear.

Luke reached out and put his hand on my shoulder. He gave me a nod then turned and started walking towards his bedroom. He called over his shoulder as he went, gesturing towards Darla's bedroom. "There should be a suitcase somewhere in Darla's closet. Make sure to pack some sweaters. It can get cold at night where we're going."

I walked into Darla's room and started to rummage through her drawers and then her closet, pulling clothes from both and throwing them into a pile on the bed. Eventually I came across a pink suitcase at the bottom of the closet and started shoving clothes into it. I had no idea where we were going, honestly, I was only half conscious of what I was grabbing, what I was doing. My mind was so a buzz with worry and random flashbacks about all that went down last night that at some point I realized my hands were trembling and my legs felt weak. I slowly slide to the floor, my arms wrapped around my legs, and I rocked back and forth.

It was Luke's voice calling out to me that set me back in motion. I forced myself to my feet. Standing in front of the mountain of clothes I grabbed some sweaters and a pair of shoes and stuffed them into the case before zipping it up and heading out of the room. In the living room Luke stood with a green duffel bag slung over his shoulder.

"Ready?" he asked, turning, and heading towards the door, not waiting for my answer. It wasn't until he was all the way across the room, his hand on the doorknob that I finally found my voice.

"What's stopping them from following us?" I finally asked the question that had been consuming me all morning. I thought I'd been so careful when I escaped the funeral and I had been so sure no one was following me as I made my way to the magic shop. How could I have been so wrong?

He looked off towards the windows and then said quietly, "They are not close by."

I moved towards him. "You know that for sure?"

"Yes." He sounded so confident. "Last night as you slept, I put up a protection spell around the neighborhood. If they were near, I would know."

He said he put a spell up not around the shop, but neighborhood. I realized I was gaping at him, trying to take in just how much power his kind possessed. His kind. Soon to be my kind. I would wield this power if I survived the rituals.

He reached out his hand. "We should get going."

I found myself walking towards him on unsteady legs, but when I reached out and put my hand in his I suddenly felt stronger, more ready to face what was outside that door.

He squeezed my hand and gave me another smile. "There are some things I need to get from the shop for the spells we will be doing."

We made our way down the stairs. If I thought upstairs was a disaster zone, I had forgotten how much energy they had put into destroying the shop and all its contents.

Luke's face looked like a dark storm about to break loose as he wandered around the torn-up store, searching through broken bottles and ripped books, looking for the things he needed. Eventually he seemed satisfied and with the green duffel bag now stretched full, we headed out to the street. I was surprised to see a cab waiting at the curb. He must have called for it when he was packing in his room.

He opened the door and got in and when I slid into the seat next to him, I finally asked, "Where are we going?"

He gave the cab driver instructions then looked my way. "My cousin Pagan's place. She's out of town, but she won't mind under the circumstances, and I know she'll have everything I need for the rituals."

I remembered we'd also taken a cab to the healer's place. "Don't you own a car?"

"One of my cousins borrowed my truck for the trip. They take a lot of tents and camping equipment and I'm the only one with a truck in the family. My uncle took his car, and Darla can't drive yet. Uncle says he's going to get her something old, reliable, and built like a tank for her sixteenth birthday which is next month." At the mention of his sister, his eyes filled with an incredible sadness.

***