Gethin took me to the pub, "The Enchanted Oak," for more than just a drink, but there was a part of me that enjoyed the idea he wanted to spend time with me.

The pub reminded me of one I'd visited with Marcus years ago, walls made of large stones, wooden timber beams, and a fireplace which, even in the middle of the day, was ablaze. I breathed in the familiar smell of beer and mulled cider, was surprised the floor wasn't sticky as many bars seemed to be, and was greeted by the sound of the patrons' chatter.

"Let's get a table at the back," Gethin said, leading me over with a hand at the small of my back. I looked around. It was a cosy place, but there was something unusual I could sense. I couldn't put my finger on it.

We sat down in a secluded corner, and Gethin gestured to Cedric for a couple of pints. "I know today has been tough," he said. "But I need you to do something for me, Evie."

I looked up at him. He was deadly serious. "What is it?"

"I've realised you see things others don't," he said, leaning in. "You feel things. I need you to tell me what you feel in this pub."

I looked around the room. I could feel the energy of the old building, the wood whispers of its age-old secrets and stories. I closed my eyes and connected with the place.

"The wood," I said as Cedric brought over our drinks. "It's like it's alive, and it's buzzing with history."

Gethin watched me closely as Cedric placed our pints down and retreated to his usual spot behind the bar.

"It's not just an old building," I said. "There's power here. Really old power."

Gethin looked deep into my eyes. "Anything else?" he prompted.

I hesitated, feeling like the pub was listening in on our conversation.

"The air, it's like it's full of invisible energy." I said. I ran my fingers over the wooden table, half expecting to feel it pulse beneath my touch. "And there's something else. It's like there's a protective bubble around this place."

Gethin nodded. "That's good to know," he said. "Really good to know."

I was still feeling the thrum of the pub's ancient heartbeat when Cedric sidled up to our table, his shock of red hair impossible to miss. "Well done, Evie," he said, his voice laced with that mischievous charm that set everyone at ease, or on edge, depending on how well you knew him.

I blinked up at him, a little taken aback. "Well done?"

Cedric chuckled, a low sound that seemed to reverberate through the room. "Your reading of the place," he said with a nod towards the oak beams above us. "I heard every word."

My mouth fell open. "You heard us?" I glanced at Gethin, who looked as unfazed as ever.

"With my heightened hearing? Of course." Cedric's green eyes twinkled. "You're quite attuned to the energies of this old pub. It's impressive."

Gethin leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest, watching Cedric with an unreadable expression. I turned my attention back to Cedric, trying to mask my surprise at his revelation.

"Thank you," I said cautiously. "It's all very new to me."

Cedric smiled and leaned against our table. His presence was commanding. "You'll find secrets don't stay hidden for long in Llyncroft, especially from those meant to find them."

His words hung in the air between us like a challenge.

Without thinking, the words tumbled out of my mouth. "What secrets are you hiding, Cedric?"

His eyes met mine, a flash of something unreadable passing through them before his lips curled into a half-smile. "I like you, Evie," he said in a low voice. "But everyone hides secrets, if you know where to look."

Cedric's gaze shifted to the other patrons of the pub. I followed his eyes to an elderly man hunched over his pint at the bar, his fingers absentmindedly tracing the rim of his glass.

"See old John there?" Cedric nodded towards him. "He'll tell you he's lived in Llyncroft his whole life, which is true. But what he doesn't mention is that he found a Roman coin in his backyard as a boy. Thinks it's cursed. He's kept it hidden under his mattress for over sixty years."

I looked at John, trying to imagine him as a young boy with a secret that had shaped his life. My gaze moved back to Cedric as he continued.

"And Lucy," he said, gesturing towards a stout woman laughing raucously with her friends at a table by the fireplace. "She's got a laugh that can wake the dead and a heart of gold. But she's also got an eye for more than just her husband. Specifically, for the travelling salesmen that pass through every few months."

I watched Lucy throw her head back in laughter. Her friends joined in, oblivious to the secret that Cedric had just shared.

I turned back to Cedric, my mind racing. "How do you know all this?" I asked.

Cedric leaned in closer, and for a moment I thought I could feel a chill creep into our cosy corner.

"People talk," he said simply. "And I listen." He tapped his temple with a slender finger. "Being what I am, well, let's just say people's emotions tend to run high around me, makes them chatty."

"That's why I've been pushing you to become an informant for years, Cedric," Gethin said. "You hear everything, and that's useful to the police."

Cedric laughed and shook his head, the red hair on his head catching the candlelight. "Oh, Gethin, you've known me since you were just a pup. You must understand by now that the 'The Enchanted Oak' is more than a pub. It's a safe space. People come here to take off their masks and be themselves without worrying about being judged or watched, even by their ever-vigilant police captain."

I watched Gethin's face for any sign of annoyance at Cedric's refusal, but there was none. If anything, there was respect in Gethin's eyes.

"Which is why you're perfect for the job," Gethin said. "You see people for who they really are here, their fears, their wants, their regrets. They relax around you."

Cedric leaned against the bar, his arms folded, appraising Gethin.

"People trust 'The Enchanted Oak'," he said. "They trust me to keep their secrets safe within these walls. It's not just what I hear, it's what I don't say." He looked around at the people enjoying their evening, unaware of our conversation. "That includes you, my friend."

Gethin nodded, conceding the point with a wry smile.

"I guess I can't blame you for looking after your customers," he said. "But if you ever change your mind, you know where to find me."

Cedric raised his glass in a silent toast and took a swig of his ale.

"The day I become an informant is the day 'The Enchanted Oak' loses its soul," he said. "We can't have that, can we?"

Gethin raised his glass in response, and I felt an old camaraderie between them. I sipped my drink.

"If you won't share tales about your patrons," I said, "at least tell us why someone would upset the balance of the earth by tearing arcanite from the soil?"

Cedric's eyes darkened, and the flickering candlelight cast eerie shadows across his face. The air grew colder, and I felt a shiver run down my spine.

"Arcanite? Tearing its raw, unrestrained power from the earth would disrupt the natural balance. It's like ripping the heart out of a living being."

He leaned closer, and I could see the faint glint of something sharp behind his smile. "Vampires like myself understand life and death all too well."

My breath caught in my throat. "Vampires?"

Cedric smiled, revealing a glimpse of sharp fangs that hadn't been there before and I was aware his focus was on my neck, which I assumed was where my pulse was strongest.