"They serve some of the best biscuits and gravy here," Castor said, as if that explained away the spooky ambiance and eerie middle of nowhere location.  "It's a supernatural diner, meaning they cater to more than just humans.  I came here with Sebastian a few times."

"Oh." Was all Lucien managed to say as he studied the ancient diner with a deepening frown. 

The place looked like it had been abandoned for decades. Its chipped paint flaked away like dead skin and its neon sign barely clung to life, flickering erratically in the gusting wind. The faint hum of the broken sign buzzed with the creaking of the loose metal awning.

After waking up in the middle of Briarwood's cemetery, Lucien still felt trapped in a haze. His head throbbed in sync to his heartbeat, and the biting chill of the night wind cut through his thin pajamas. He tugged his sleeves down over his hands, shivering as his gaze dropped to his festive pumpkin-covered pajama pants and mud-splattered slippers.

"I look ridiculous," he muttered, glancing at Castor, who wasn't faring much better. Castor was still clad in red plaid pajamas speckled with dirt, though at least he'd had the foresight to shove his feet into a pair of boots.

"Nobody here will care or notice." Castor led him toward the diner's weathered entrance, pulling the metal door open.  It groaned on its hinges as the wind pushed against it.  "After you."

As if the ghosts cared what they wore. Lucien could already imagine ghost waiters and waitresses floating around and wondered if he truly ever woke up. Perhaps he was stuck in nightmare spawned from his own mind.

Lucien stepped inside, savoring the peculiar warmth that welcomed them.  He's expected the place to be chilly. Only two other guys were perched in window booths, neither sparing them a glance as Lucien let Castor walk ahead.

A waitress emerged from the back kitchen carrying a carafe of coffee and a glass plate with an assortment of sausages and bacon.  Her dark brown hair was neatly pinned back into a fishtail braid that shimmered like moondust under the dim, flickering lights of the diner.

"Welcome, weary travelers." Her dark crimson eyes scanned them from head to toe, like a predator sizing up its prey.  "Rough night, huh?  Make yourselves comfortable, and I'll get you some menus."

"Thank you." Castor led them to a booth toward the back and plopped down on the seat with a soft groan.  "Hells bells, has it been a night."

"That was a vampire," Lucien whispered as he slid into the booth across from him, keeping his gaze on the lady as she poured an older man some coffee. 

Castor yawned, then nodded.  "Yeah.  Illyria owns this place and runs it with her wife. They open at odd hours of the night for those who need a quick bite."

Lucien leaned forward, numb fingers bracing the table.  "Do they serve blood here?"

"You didn't strike me as the type to drink blood, but who am I to judge?" The vampire waitress glided to their table like a shadow, and Lucien nearly jumped out of his skin as her rich, velvet laugh echoed through the diner.  She placed two menus in front of them, careful not to spook Lucien any further.  "It's good to see you again, Castor.  How's Sebastian doing?"

"He's doing well," Castor replied, rubbing at one of his eyes. 

"Did he ever figure out who killed those vampires out by his clinic?" Illyria asked.

"No, but we had a death in Briarwood too." Castor's gaze softened as he looked up at Lucien, lips curling in a tight-lipped frown.

"My sister," Lucien said, choking on the words.  It never got easier to admit to himself that she was gone, but actually saying it out loud only hurt more.  "She was cursed to death right outside our home."  Memories of Charlotte's devilish horns and pointy tail flashed through his mind, and he cringed to remember her like that.

"I thought you looked awfully familiar," Illyria murmured.  "Lucien Cromwell, right?  Your sister was Charlotte.  Curse the Gods who stole her from us." Her eyes glowed with fury, and Lucien bristled at the sight of her sharp fangs. 

"Charlotte was also a vampire hunter," Lucien said before he could stop himself. "How did you know her?"

"Charlotte wasn't working for those blasphemy hunters." Evident disgust curled on her lips.  "She was playing them for the fools they are.  I've been on their radar for years, yet she fabricated my death so they wouldn't bother coming around every six years anymore."

"Why six years?" Castor frowned. 

"Because of the Bleeding Sky." Lucien remembered all those nights he stayed at the Vales' home when the sky turned dark shades of crimson as stars rained down from the heavens, rumored to be angels sent down to protect them from the demons rising up from the roots of the Underworld. "That's why we traditionally keep inside once nightfall comes.  Most hunters consider vampires demonic, so they work hard to find those on the Most Wanted list during that day."

"We call it Day of Daemonium," Illyria added softly.  "Much like you wizards, we tend to stay locked up at night as well.  Though it's less fear of demons coming for us."

"I'm sorry," Lucien murmured.

"Charlotte wanted to find a way to stop them, you know.  Many believed the treaty with Nevermourn would bring peace between our kind, but it only stuck a band-aid on a festering wound." Illyria shook her head.  "I do wonder if she ever found what she was looking for.  Claimed it would save all of vampire-kind.  Poor girl was quite the dreamer, I'll give her that.  Sorry for blabbering, if you're ready to order-"

"What was Charlotte looking for?" Lucien asked.

"I'm not sure, but she said it was something powerful.  Consanguineous magic, that's what she called it, I think.  Your guess is as good as mine on what that means." Illyria shrugged. 

Could that be the charm bracelet? Were cursed items a form of Consanguineous magic? That word rang no familiar bells for him, and judging by Castor's befuddled look, he guessed it wasn't Valorathian language either.  So, what did it mean?  And how would it have helped save the vampires?

Darkness faded as the first tendrils of dawn stretched across the sky, shifting from indigo to light lavender and pale gold.  Sunlight spilled in through the diner windows as Lucien and Castor ate their plates of biscuits and gravy, all while Lucien tried to piece together what Charlotte's plans had been before she died.

Warm honeyed light cast a soft glow on their table as Lucien reached for his steamy mug of coffee.  Grateful that Illyria hadn't given him blood to sample.  "Why didn't you tell me about this place sooner?  It's like you and Charlotte have this whole other world from me."

"I had no clue Illyria and Charlotte knew each other.  The vampire lesbian community must be tight-knit or something."

Lucien choked on his coffee.  "Jeezus."

"Next time, I'll take you down to the werewolf whorehouse." Castor bit into one of his fluffy biscuits with a smirk.

"Oh, I'm sure we'd have a grand time there." Lucien rolled his eyes, scraping his fork against his plate to get the last bits of his gravy-coated biscuit.  "I get why Charlotte wanted to protect her vampire friends, but I just wish she would've come to me for help.  It sucks how I'm learning about them now.  After she's gone."

"I'm sorry, Lucien."

Lucien glanced out the window, frowning at the giant silver-pelted wolf that emerged from the towering trees.  It left out a ferocious howl that sent goosebumps along his arms.  "Holy hells."

"Oh, that's just Illyria's wife."

"Wife?" Lucien raised a brow. 

"Tamsin's a wolf walker. She shifts during the night and runs around. Does wolf things I guess?"  Castor shrugged.   "Sebastian provides them with Moonlight Elixirs to help cope through the rough transitions, like during the Blood Moons.  Wolf walkers turn depending on the moon cycles."

"But... aren't wolf walkers killed on the spot by the council?" Dryness filled Lucien's throat as he watched the silver wolf outside slowly shift into a beautiful woman with luscious locks that shone in the morning sunlight like glittering stars. 

"It's a good thing that the council believes she's dead." Castor met his gaze, and all traces of merriment had vanished.  "This is why Charlotte kept them from you, Lucien." He reached across the table for his hand, squeezing it tightly.  "It was too dangerous for you to know.  I don't think she wanted to burden you with all these secrets."

Lucien watched as Illyria rushed outside to her wife, pulling the silver-haired wolf walker in a tight embrace.  When they kissed, he awkwardly averted his gaze. "I wish Charlotte would've told me anyway. I would've kept her secrets."

"I know you would have, Lucien."

Lucien reached for his coffee, taking a long sip. "Do you think that charm bracelet of hers was created to somehow protect her friends?"

"I don't know. Maybe." Castor shrugged, but the uncertainty clouding his obsidian eyes said otherwise.

"You don't think so?"

"Whatever magic's in that charm bracelet is pure evil." Castor shook his head. "You don't know how many times I tried to pull it off you in fear of what it would make you do. I thought you'd summon a damn horde into Briarwood when we reached the graveyard."

"Is that why you had the fire chicken with you?"

Castor blanched. "I was tired, okay? And scared as hell for you. I tried to call upon my phoenix, but the stupid chicken appeared instead.

Lucien chuckled. "Sorry, I know it's not funny. I have no recollection of any of that, which is terrifying because it could have made me do anything. I still feel so awful about the Pepperhearts' pumpkin patch. But imagine if I'd done that to someone. To you." He choked on those last words at even the mere thought of accidentally hurting Castor or anyone he loved while under that hideous trance.

"I just hope she doesn't make any accusations against you." Castor sighed as he stacked his empty plate on top of Lucien's. "If they do, I'll be your alibi and you know my folks will too. But if they test the magic at the scene, it'll come back as yours."

"I wouldn't ask you to lie to the council for me, Castor."

"I know, but I'd do it anyway." Castor grinned. "I'd tell them all about how your secret evil twin was responsible or claim I did it because I'm sure they'd believe that. The Vales are always up to wicked shit, you know? It's not like I could even wield such a unique elemental spell myself, but they wouldn't care."

"Please, don't do that." Lucien massaged the side of his head to dull the sudden ache. "Whatever happens, we'll figure things out, okay?"

Castor nodded. "Yeah, okay."

The flight home that night was rather quiet, and Lucien couldn't stop wondering about the true powers hidden within that charm bracelet. He wanted to believe Charlotte just wanted to protect her friends, but had that devil inside her actually known what it was capable of? Lucien remembered how the ground devoured the charm bracelet the moment he placed it down, and he couldn't help but wonder if it was a mistake to have ever gone searching for it.

It wasn't like she could do anything with it from the underworld, right?