April 2007

During elementary school, Vanessa's mom enjoyed a short, couple-year employment at the local veterinary clinic as a receptionist. Every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, Vanessa would skip after school care and walk to the clinic. She would spend hours wandering the clinic, petting sick dogs, and helping technicians with medicine transfers.

Vanessa loved that time. She could say whatever nonsense to a little kitty while petting it, and it would just purr. She had so much love for those animals. So many furry hugs. That time had endeared Vanessa to animals for life.

But, with such an erratic work schedule, she couldn't have a pet. It would be cruel to leave it for days, weeks, and months at a time. To be honest, Vanessa only graced her empty home a couple days out of the month. Every piece of furniture in the modern-looking apartment sat as perfect as in a catalog as no one really lived there to mess it up.

But if she ever forsook her nomadic lifestyle, she would love to have an animal of some sort. A cat, a dog, anything.

Now, with this new mission, she kind of got her wish. In bold letters of her mission file laid her cover—an exotic-accented, mystical animal expert.

Unfortunately, it required some extra preparation. Fortunately, the Knights' regional convention had been near enough to Monmouth, Illinois, to take the detour.

Vanessa knocked on the door of the pretty blue house and came face to face with a blonde, gorgeous woman. Torina Barker. Society member by title, viviblix by birth. They never worked closely, but they had spoken to each other in passing. Blixes, despite their wide-ranging differences, tended to help each other.

"Vanessa Santoro." Torina mimed swiping a claw at her. "Look what the cat dragged in."

Vanessa kept her mouth in a line, laughter caught behind her teeth. "Hello, Mrs. Barker."

Torina scrunched up her nose. "You stop that right now. I am not old enough to be a missus. Come in."

The delightfully decorated house mimicked the soullessness of Vanessa's home. Of course, having no occupant produced this feeling. Torina never actually stayed the night in this meeting house, because even Society members didn't trust other Society members to know their abodes. What a cozy little family atmosphere the Society had cultivated.

Vanessa looked around. "You have everything I asked for?"

"Yes. This way. Drumants, bat rabbits, and a bunch of other freakazoids. Care to tell me what it's all about?" Torina led her through a hallway, and opened a door. Cages upon cages lined the wall and the cacophony of animal sounds hit them like thunder.

"Just feeling a little lonely in my apartment." Vanessa scanned the creatures.

Torina barked out a laugh. "Fine, fine, keep your secrets."

That, Vanessa would.

—

Vanessa arrived very late to Fablehaven that night. After unloading her creatures as quietly as possible and meeting Stan, she fell into her bed without regret. She wasn't chomping at the bit for a tour or to see any sights. Fablehaven itself sparked no excitement. Just another magical prison. Same old, same old.

Truthfully, Vanessa couldn't care less about anything that did not revolve around the artifact or Warren—and those two priorities competed for first place.

The next day, Vanessa spotted a man outside with a strong family resemblance to Warren. With strong, tanned arms, he pushed a wheelbarrow full of hay towards Viola's barn. Dark hair, groundskeeper. Check, check. She had found Warren's brother. Vanessa jogged to catch up.

"Hey, Dale, was it?" Vanessa stuck out her hand. "I'm Vanessa. One of the helpers. I arrived last night."

The gangly man stood uncomfortably. Awkwardness blanketed the interaction as he took her hand and shook. Dirt tarnished her soft hands. "It's nice to meet you, miss."

Vanessa nodded and agreed. Now, was this the time to ask? She had yet to see Warren all day today. Was he off somewhere? She had to know. But, could she ask? Would that be weird? Would that—

Vanessa cut her brain off and opened her mouth. "I've heard a lot about you," she said. "Warren was my partner on a lot of my missions."

She knew Dale was privy to all the Knights stuff. Even though it went against the very core of her being, she figured it was okay to lower her discretion and say the quiet part out loud. Since Warren had already done so—a lot and repeatedly. But, maybe Warren had become more serious about Knight business over the past two years? It had been a while. Nervousness coated her neck.

Recognition lit Dale's eyes and he squinted at her. "Santoro?"

Vanessa nodded. Butterflies tickled her fingers. It reminded her of being fifteen and meeting her boyfriend's family for the first time. Of course, this was way different. Warren wasn't her boyfriend. But, her mind and heart were not on the same page.

"Did he talk about me?" Vanessa spoke with a conversational lilt, hiding the genuineness behind her question.

Dale nodded and set his chin on the wooden end of his pitchfork. "Too much. But, it was all good. Except for—did you recover from that nasty leg break alright?"

"Yes, I did. Thank you for your concern." She schooled her face. More sentences laid behind her teeth.

Yes, I recovered, thanks to him. Warren called himself my husband and treated me like a wife. He tended to me more intimately than I have ever been before—more than my mother, more than any other lover. I felt love grow over the stones of my heart. I felt scared. But, it was him, so the fear vanished. It had been our second to last mission before he got his solo assignment. We hadn't had time to parse out our relationship before the departure. And not speaking of it has been my greatest regret over the past two years without him. You're lucky to have him. We're—

Vanessa swallowed the desperate words pushing against her lips and looked around. "Do you know where he is?"

Dale's face fell.