I wasn't sure about coming into work today. Mondays are the worst. My stomach's been in a tight knot ever since Mr. Silvet mentioned the reserve. I can't keep it to myself. Ideally, I'd like to find where it is on my own. Nick and his father offered to show me. How do I know they'd show me everything, though?

Here I go again doubting them.

A door slams down the hallway. It's Will's office.

"Sorry, everyone!" David shouts. He walks over to his cubicle with an apologetic smile. "I didn't mean to shut the door that hard."

With growing anxiety, I leave my desk and go into Will's office. He had put a meeting on my calendar. Unfortunately, Will isn't alone. Officer Heinrich sits in the chair across from him with a deep scowl.

"I not fill up water cooler. Your job."

"If you won't do it, then, find someone who will," Will clips back. "Valerie! Are you going to tell us what you found? We didn't get much time to talk last night. You seemed in a hurry to leave-"

"I not done talking to you. You move David cube away from mine," the large officer orders, "I allergic to cat. No more shifting in office or I put down."

"Did you just say 'put down'? I'm sure you meant to say put downstairs. Look-" Will retorts.

"We can meet another time," I suggest lightly, "I can tell you two need some time to talk." 

In a rush, I leave Will's office hoping I haven't stepped out of place. Heinrich closes the door. I can hear them still arguing as I walk back to my desk.

The rest of the day drags by as I focus on typing up reports. The hardest hours are the last three hours after lunch, but, eventually, it's time to go home. I don't have a car. I miss the days where I could just walk a few blocks to Stella's. It's getting a little too expensive to get a lift every time I go home. Maybe, I should get a bike.

"Valerie," I hear Nick call in an even tone. Tense, I clutch my purse to my stomach shuffling toward his office. He's standing in the doorway carrying what looks like a heavy-duty steel box. "Come here for a second, would you? Will said you had been in the pig pen. May I ask what you were doing...and can you help me understand why you didn't tell me? I had no idea you were coming to the farm last night."

No idea? That's not what his father said. As if reading my thoughts, Nick's eyes turn a dark crimson on me. Why bother to ask when he already knows? I was looking around. Searching for a reason to prove some part, as small as it may be, of Will's instincts about him this entire time might be right.

Sheepish, I stare at Nick's chest instead of his face. "I was looking around," I admit. We already had this conversation before in the dream I had last night. I look back into his eyes ignoring his no-nonsense expression. "Truthfully, I wanted to find the reserve your father told me about."

Nick rubs his throat with a heavy sigh. "I'll show you the reserve," he responds in a condescending tone. Once again, he has put me into the box of a child who needs scolding. He isn't wrong to be upset. "I cannot protect you when you do not communicate with me. I am still waiting for you to answer why you did not tell me. William said you did not tell him, either."

"Didn't you already know?" I counter lightly, "Your father said you had cameras along the driveway. He told me you had asked him to meet me. That you and him both knew I was there. I don't mean to question you, Nick. It's just, well, I feel like you aren't telling me everything. If you can read my mind, as well, I see no reason to communicate where I am."

"I do not have time to read your mind when I am babysitting the coven," Nick answers curtly. My throat feels like it's closed up. He's so mad. "Do you think I'm going through your private thoughts?"

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said anything. I feel nervous...very nervous about working here again."

"I'm the only one looking out for you, Valerie. You are no longer just a witch anymore. You're a vampire. No one can protect you better than me," he articulates sharply, "I think you could use a few days off to relax. It's understandable you'd feel nervous working here. By the way," he adds, "You're welcome to fly home, you know, with your broom. I'd offer to take you, but, I sense you're trying to be more independent, and I don't blame you for that," he says. His serious frown turns into a charming smile as he rubs my arms. "I don't blame you for how you feel. Take the rest of the week off."

"Okay, thank you. I'm working on trusting you. I really want to, Nick. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Valerie."

***

Newly alone, I sit down on the couch in my parents' living room. Each interaction with Nick has gotten worse and worse. I'm sure I can't be the only source of annoyance.

Something else must be going on besides my snooping around.

If only he weren't so good looking. He can be very charming. I really didn't feel good leaving work after being given the green light to stay home for a while. Even, to fly home on my broom - a free commute most witches would indulge in. The more I think about using magic, the more I think about the coven and my family's death.

Was it really a good idea to move back here and surround myself with pictures, memories, of my parents?

My phone buzzes against my lap.

It's a text from Nick.

Are you home? the message says. I'm sorry about today. I'm just trying to look out for you. I can tell you're nervous around me.

I'm sure he can tell a lot more than that. 

I'm home. Thank you. I should be the one sorry. I appreciate your support, I text back. 

I feel like I'm losing my mind as I retreat to my bedroom. In the mirror above the dresser, my skin's complexion has turned entirely dark with just the whites of my bones shining through. After rubbing my eyes, the strange appearance vanishes.

Suddenly, my fangs pop out. "Ow!" I hiss feeling my lip get cut in the process.

They won't retract.

Uncomfortable, I plop down onto the bed. I keep replaying conversations at work over in my mind. The same thing is going to keep happening. I'm going to drive myself nuts if I keep working at the police station. It may be time to accept what I will never know and move on, move away, even. Fall is just around the corner. It's been over a year now and nothing has changed. 

Outside, in the growing dimness of the evening, dried up brown leaves begin to fall down to the ground against the dark purple sky. Tiredly, I wipe the blood from my mouth with a tissue and toss it lazily into the floor while closing my eyes.

Drip, drip.

"Fire, fire..." I hear a dark voice command. Flames roar with life several yards away lighting up the expanse of the cave. Feeling sick, I hug myself. My head pounds hard. It's very cold. A thick layer of feathers rests beneath me. I stand up and my feet sink deeper. There must be thousands of feathers piled up here. My heart hammers as I tumble out of the makeshift bed. The walls are carved out of rock and sparkle against the light. "Come to me!" the voice barks angrily.

Thankfully, I am a distance away. The familiar creepy bone-throne is near the fire they stand in front of. I feel like I'm going to throw up when I catch a whiff of rotting flesh. A bubbling energy surrounds my body. It somehow relaxes me and excites me at the same time. I feel alert in a way I never have before. Suddenly, the gross smell disappears. It's replaced with a warm spice that makes my mouth water and my stomach growls. I don't understand my sudden hunger.

"Bring me the souls," the dark voice booms. The voice sounds very intimidating, but familiar. "I need more witches!"

It looks like they are gone now. One moment they were there, and the next, gone. With caution, I balance myself against the cold wall of the cave seeing the dark shadow of someone arrive out of thin air just a few yards away. It's Nick.

"This is our reserve. I knew you would find it," he says with pride. He stops short a few feet away. "Are you thirsty? I can take you to the fountain."

"No. Thank you."

The next moment, he disappears leaving me alone. In a trance, I tip-toe up to the massive pile of bones not wanting to stay alone in the back of the awful room. No one is here now, except, for the person occupying the throne.

"What is this place?" I ask, stepping out in front of the throne. Nick stares ahead at the fountain as if lost in thought. "Nick? Can you hear me?"

Why won't he answer or look at me?

This isn't like the dreams I've had before. He's dressed in his police uniform. The ground is covered in cement. When I look back behind the throne, the feather-bed is gone...and so are all the torches along with the cave. Awful fluorescent lights hang down now from the ceiling. It's no longer a cave, but a modern space where wooden beams compose the ceiling and walls. The bone throne is gone and replaced with a tall oak chair and desk.

We are in an entirely different space.

The fountain is gone and replaced with rows of stacked industrial steel barrels. It reminds me of beer barrels at a distillery. On the big desk, a few pint glasses are set out in front of Nick. He picks one up and starts drinking it.

Across from us, his father whistles a tune while walking around the neatly stacked barrels holding a clipboard. Other police officers are down here and follow him around the aisles of barrels. They're walking toward a ladder against the wall now. Nick's attention is glued on them.

Each moment he doesn't answer feels like an eternity. I try to read Nick's aura, but I can't see it at all.

Finally, he looks at me for a fleeting moment after I touch his shoulder. Will arrives, along with some coven members, they're climbing down the ladder across the room. Nick's attention goes to them. Mr. Silvet greets Will with a smile and points in our direction. No one seems to see me standing here beside Nick. They don't look at me. They're just looking at Nick as they approach with questions and excitement. It seems like this is their first time here. 

"Nick, what's going on?" I ask with growing concern.

I can't talk right now. Give me a few minutes. Stay behind my chair until I come get you, Nick hisses into my mind. I shiver hearing him use the 'old word' in my head.

Obediently, I nod and awkwardly go back behind his chair.

"Nicholas! Thanks for giving us the tour. We appreciate your transparency! How many pigs do y'all need to fill up a barrel?" I hear Will ask.

"It depends on how big the pig is. Typically, five or six adults."

"How many barrels do y'all got?"

"Around one hundred. We have a couple reserves on the property. This one sits furthest from the house cause it's got the most barrels," Nick answers. 

"Great, so, when are y'all gonna show us the others?" Will asks.

"I'd like Valerie to see the reserves, too. Let's schedule something for next weekend. How does that sound?"

"Sounds great. Why all the police down here, though?"

"Why?" I hear Nick mock. It sounds like he's standing up. "We have a unit down here for the same reason we do up there. I'm sure you know these barrels are worth a lot of money, Will. Letting folks like you walk around down here, I'm putting this product, and my family, at a significant risk."

"I'm not worried about my coven and you shouldn't be either. What I'm worried about is you and your buffoons. What if kids came down here and screwed around...damaged something. Things get messy when humans are involved. When are you going to tell the public?"

"As soon as you tell me to, Will. I'm not the commander anymore. You're running the show. If you don't want them down here, by all means, call them off. Let them go home for the night."

What he says seems to satiate Will's curiosity. They continue talking for a few more minutes about numbers and profit. Eventually, it becomes quiet. I think they may have all walked off somewhere. I'm not sure.

Come here, Nick says into my mind.

I come out from behind the chair. Nick looks down at me with a stern gaze making me feel like a cornered mouse.

"You're hungry, aren't you?" he asks. He takes a drink of blood from his pint glass. "Have a sip."

He hands me the glass. Before I think it through, I've taken a gulp. My head stops throbbing immediately.

"Why are you concealing your aura? Why couldn't they see me?"

"I wasn't expecting to find you down here. I'm not in the best mood right now, Valerie. Blood always makes me feel better," he chuckles. I blush as he looks over my face with new tenderness. I should be finding a way out of here. I shouldn't continue talking to him alone in a place like this. "As for why the witches couldn't see you, it's the witching hour and I have ways of protecting you. I didn't want them to know you were here with me. They wouldn't have liked that. I'm sure you can understand why. It's the same reason why I sometimes conceal my aura around them, too."

"Have you concealed my aura before?"

"Yes, I have done it before. Sometimes, I want you to see things without others knowing your presence. People act differently depending on who they're around. I am awake now and so are you. I summoned you here. I hope you don't mind. I figured you were curious and this would help you understand better. Help you, uh, get some peace of mind. You may have been dreaming before I called on you here. I'm sorry if I gave you a scare."

"I'm not afraid," I say while following him away from the desk. He guides me around the aisles of barrels. We walk around about eight rows of stacked barrels as he explains the blood collection process from the pigs. "I was hoping I'd get to see the reserve. Thanks for showing me this place. It means a lot."

"I want you to see everything, Valerie. I'm glad you are here."

It's amazing how much that gulp of blood calmed my nerves. The tension in my body has vanished and my fangs have retracted into my gums as I continue looking at all the barrels. I'm sure the awful smell earlier was blood. Strange how it doesn't smell awful at all anymore in here anymore. Nick stops in front of the ladder.

"This will take us above ground. Go up," he encourages. Above the ladder, there is a hole cut out of the ground. "I'll be right behind you. In case you slip, don't worry, I'll break your fall!"

The ladder has only ten rungs. I make it to the top and climb onto the grassy earth. In the far distance, I see the barn, and behind it, the farmhouse. We're standing in one of the pastures. Nick climbs out and closes the hardwood cellar doors. I can't believe a room so big is hidden right under this field. And, to think, there are more than one rooms. Multiple reserves.

"I feel a lot better after seeing that. Thank you!"

Nick smiles down at me. 

"I always feel a lot better after seeing you," he laughs. His face darkens as he turns away and begins walking toward the house. "Will is a headache to deal with, but it's a necessary evil. If I don't cooperate with him, he'd have this place shut down already. That day is coming. He's just telling me what I want to hear. Him and the MSSL know my little 'business' is on borrowed time."

"Why? Why wouldn't they support this? The alternative is drinking from humans. Is that what they'd want?"

"That's not the alternative they seek. Since the beginning of time, they've wanted to get rid of us. Vampires place a burden on society. It's better to get rid of the problem than continue enabling it," Nick elaborates. We reach the farmhouse and walk up the porch. "Instead of genuinely working with us, wanting to respect us as we are, they are working discreetly to cut us off cleanly. They must do it the 'right way', too. They wouldn't want to look so horrible in the eyes of the humans. The humans are the majority, after all."

"You really think that?" I whisper while searching his eyes.

"Yes," he answers with a pretend pout. I giggle at his expression despite the subject at hand. I'm caught off guard when he pulls me into a hug. "It's the truth I know. I'm much older than you, Valerie. I have seen history repeat itself. That's why I care so much about you, especially, now that you've turned into my kind...despite as much as you may deny it. You're a vampire hybrid now."

"About that, I've noticed my skin sometimes looks...weird. Do you know why?"

"You've been hexed by witches in the past. It could also be a side effect of my influence-"

"Your magic, you mean?"

"If magic is what you want to call it, then, yes. I'd say it's connected to me."

What else about my life is connected to him? How much about my family does he really know? If he doesn't support the coven, witches and using magic, why does he have demonic symbols tattooed over himself? 

"Did you bring me back to life?" I press. "I know I've already asked. I just have this strong feeling it was you. It keeps me up at night. I think about it all the time. I'm always thinking about my family and who would care enough get involved to the degree of bringing me back here."

A long moment passes. He folds his arms with an impassive gaze. "I think whoever did it knew what they were doing. I'd say whoever would do something so cruel is capable of doing anything," he answers, "And I sincerely doubt they regret it. Criminals are only sorry when they get caught. I'm sure you know most of them walk away free."

"I guess you're right. Some crimes are worse than others-"

"That's a good point, little lamb," he interrupts lightly. His gaze his tender as he rubs my back. How long has he been doing that for? "I do have a question for you. Which crime would you say is worse, murder or necromancy?"

"Well," I begin carefully, "I would say it depends on the situation. The people and their motivations. I personally feel a lot more anger towards the coven, toward Patricia Gild, to be exact-"

"Is that so? If you're so angry, why stay friends with her daughter? Have you ever considered Stella may have known what her mother did?"

"She didn't know."

"How can you be certain?" he counters.

"How can anyone be certain of anything?" I shoot back. I'm not sure where my sass is coming from. Nick laughs at my outburst. I look up at him with new courage understanding where my frustration is coming from. "I want to go home."

Nick pulls away. "I'm sorry. I know it's a touchy subject, but it's my job to touch things until I find what I've come looking for. You mentioned 'motivations'. In my line work, the motivation, the why behind things, is much less important than the action. At some point, you must accept you will never know why. All we do is pick up the pieces and try to understand the picture. Nobody knows why the shapes fit together or why some remain missing. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

"Yes. I've been hung up on things, but I don't think I can let them go. How am I supposed to forget?"

"You may never forget. Start by accepting what you don't know. Then, reality will become clear."

He talked about trying to understand a puzzle. I'm still seeing demons...have exorcised things. The devil, or something that seemed like it, cursed me. It doesn't make logical sense. Am I supposed to let that go, too?

"When you put it that way, it seems so simple. That's going to be hard, but I want to try. I appreciate you talking to me about this. You mean a lot to me, Nick. I know I don't say that enough. I think I'm ready to trust you-"

"You died very young, Valerie. Your brain didn't finish developing. Trust is a spectrum. We trust people to different degrees, don't we?" Nick says in a parental tone. "The person you need to trust the most is yourself. That comes with growing up."

"But I'm an adult," I remind him. I feel like a toddler stomping its foot in defiance as I'm met with his smirk. "I am grown up, right? I died when I was eighteen. Ten years passed before I came back here. I'm an adult. Don't you see me as one?"

"I do. It must be hard to face this without your family. You are already changing. The truth is all around us, Valerie. Take the leaves falling outside. The same thing will happen next year. The leaves will fall again. There's a certain amount of predictability in this world, don't you think? Predictability is where people tend to place their comfort. I want to be predictable for you, too."

I'm not sure what to say. It feels nice when he kisses the top of my head. I think he had done that before months ago. It's fleeting, but I don't really get touched a lot anymore by anyone. It goes a long way to make me feel warm. Cared for in a special way. Maybe, my joy, my reaction, is child-like. After all, I don't think through why I kiss his cheek in return.

Nick's mouth cracks into a wide grin. It's like a switch has flipped and he's radiating with another level of intense and excitable energy. It looks like he's about to say something, but the porch sliding door opens.

"Nicky?" I hear his father call. "Someone here? Thought I heard talking."

Morning sun shines onto my face. Outside my bedroom window, the leaves on the trees seemed to have turned orange overnight just like Nick and I talked about in my dream. The fall. I feel like I've woken up from a wonderful nap, which is rare, considering the string of nightmares I've had and the mixed messages I've been getting. I probably shouldn't have kissed Nick, but I'm not too worried about it. All I care about is how good it made me feel. I felt happy, especially, when I saw his reaction. I think he felt happy, too. If he didn't want me there, he wouldn't have summoned me. I'm going to stop caring so much about why - just like he told me. I know I feel a lot better when I do. He's right.

I'm not sure what I'm going to do the rest of the week off work, but this is just the break I've needed!

🌜