The Irish pub at the end of the street would be full at that time of night, and with a fluttering heart, Daphne flung herself at the rustic wooden door.

It was humid inside, and the cacophony of voices and feelings startled her as she made straight for the bar. She ducked between bodies and feelings as the front door was ripped open once again.

"Shit, shit, shit." She crouched behind a table as Mist mowed himself a path through the patrons. Strangely enough, there were no curse words following him. She doubted he'd fanned out his wings to intimidate them, but he sure was tall and broad from what she'd seen in the alley. She felt her gut clench and knew it had nothing to do with fear. A quick glance at her watch told Daphne she only had five minutes left.

"Shit!" Daphne yelped as a hand closed around her ankle. It was Mist, hauling her to her feet.

"Where are you gonna run now, kitten?" His face was inches from hers, and she felt as though the heat of his wrath physically burned her skin. Being this close meant Daphne had no choice but to really look at him for the first time, and her mouth fell open as she did. He was gorgeous.

Mist had black hair with an almost-blue shine in the light, and it fell down to his brows in the front. His eyes were a startling dark blue, framed by long black lashes. He had a strong jawline and beautiful lips—well, she guessed they'd be beautiful if they weren't thin with anger.

She shook her head. He was a nice package, sure, but she knew what was inside. Swirling darkness, years of pain and anger.

Daphne looked to the side to avoid his gaze and noticed that everyone in the bar was watching them silently.

A large hand clamped down on Mist's shoulder, and he jerked Daphne around to peer at the owner.

"Yo, Mist. Who's the hottie?" The man who belonged to the big hand was tall himself. He had a wicked, lazy grin and darting green eyes. He was handsome as well, really handsome. Had she landed in a GQ shoot? He pulled one hand through his tousled blond hair and let out a whistle when he saw Daphne.

"None of your business, Jay," Mist snarled, never taking his eyes off Daphne.

Daphne was able to glance at her watch. Two minutes.

"Listen, big guy," she said to her captor, "you'll want to get me out of here really fast and then leave my vicinity even faster. I tried to drain you once and don't want to do it again, but in two minutes I might not have a choice."

"'Drain you?' What's she on about?" Jay stuck his head between the two. When he looked at Daphne more closely, his eyes widened. "Nah, she didn't." Mist nodded in confirmation, and Jay grinned. "She did? Wow, never thought I'd see the day. A zephyr being drained by a reaver."

At his words, a murmur went through the crowd and several people backed away, immediately consumed with palpable fear. Daphne could see some patrons' eyes lighting up in different colors, and she swallowed. Could they be like her? "Other?"

"We have to move now," she told Mist, who was still glowering at her. A sharp pain in her stomach told her it was too late. She clutched at her torso and grunted. Damn, she'd forgotten how much it hurt.

Mist drew his brows together and stared at her. "You waited to the last minute to find a soul? Are you fucking insane?" He shook her, and it felt like her bones rattled.

How did he know?

"Well excuse me, dipshit, it's not like I enjoy this." Daphne hissed, trying to kick him and missing by about a foot.

Mist threw her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and turned to the front door.

"Get out of my way, Jay."

"No, this isn't right. I can't let you leave with her. She'll die, or you will."

"What's it to you?"

Daphne flinched as another wave of pain rolled through her.

"We don't do that to each other." Jay's voice was level.

Daphne could feel Mist's shrug against her hip and a rumbling vibration as he growled in response.

"Come on, Mist, just leave her here and we'll take care of her."

"Not an option, fleabag. Now get out of my way, or you'll pave it for me with your guts."

This didn't sound good, not at all. If Mist took her out of there and kept her away from people... She swallowed; maybe it wasn't such a bad thing. Maybe this was her way out.

"You will leave her here, zephyr," a new voice said.

Daphne hissed. She recognized that voice, dark and rough, deep and cold. A voice she would recognize anywhere, as it had changed her life forever. There was a reason she knew what she was: after she'd taken her first soul, that voice had told her.

A large hand grabbing her shoulder and pulling her away. Away from the screaming and into a dark place, the backside of a bakery. The sour smell of yeast and dough clung to her nose like a powdery wave. Her brain still slow, her feet unsure.

His face hidden by shadows, a towering figure, his voice cold. "What is a little reaver like you doing alone out here?"

Skin itching, humming, feeling too tight around her muscles. Her belly warm and tingling, filled and soothing, fear making it churn. Fear of him and the ice in his voice.

Words tumbling from her lips, broken and jittery. "W-what's a reaver?" Fingers scratching down her arms, a futile attempt to still the humming.

A snort breaching the darkness, hands gripping her shoulders making her jump, cold like the rest of him.

"You listen to me, girl, and you listen good. Your parents should've prepared you; they should've told you what you are."

Pain and shame blazing in her chest. "Don't have any."

The chuckle reaching her ears was without humor. "You're a soul reaver, youngling. You feed off emotions, and once a year, you have to take a soul. I'm guessing tonight was your first."

Not a question, her head bobbing in confirmation nonetheless. "What will become of her? The lady back there?"

A deep sigh flying into the night. "You killed her, child. And you will kill even more. You should be safe feeding off emotions every night, but once a year that won't suffice. You'll have to take all. If you don't, you'll die from withdrawal, and it won't be pretty. The pain will only get worse until your body gives out and takes what it needs."

And that was what she'd done for twelve years. Now he was here?

Daphne tried to lift up her head to get a look at him, but another cramp made that impossible. Soft whispers erupted when a chair scraped across the floor and heavy footfalls neared them.

"Hand her over."

Mist's anger flared out of him, thrumming against Daphne's throat in heated waves.

"No, sir," Mist growled.

"Now. Before it's too late."

In a flurry of movement, Daphne changed hands, then she heard Mist stomp off. Daphne shut her eyes, trying to block out the nearby souls she craved. She sensed compassion, sweet and sugary, and sour disdain from someone else. The feelings surrounded her and made her belly ache for their hosts. Delectable. She licked her lips and felt herself being carried away, somewhere darker, before she was placed on something soft—a mattress? A door slammed shut, and she couldn't smell or taste anyone anymore.

"Toph, what are you doing? Should I evacuate the pub?" a female voice asked.

"No, no need. I know what must be done if she's to survive this," Toph's cold voice answered.

"You want to save her? Are you serious? She's a reaver!"

"And?" Toph snapped. "She's still one of us."

Someone knocked on the door. "Hey, what's going on? Let me in." It sounded like the blond man named Jay, the one who'd stood up for Daphne.

"Make sure Jay doesn't come inside. Lock the door and keep everyone away," Toph instructed. "Now, woman!"

Daphne heard scrambling and an argument before the door shut again. A hand smoothed back a few strands of her hair, and she heard a deep sigh.

"Hang in there, youngling. I'll be back in a second." A chilly draft blew over Daphne's face, and she moaned. Heat traveled along her body, making beads of sweat erupt everywhere. After what seemed like forever, something was pressed to her lips.

"Drink," Toph said.

The moment the liquid touched Daphne's tongue, it burned. It raced down her throat into her stomach and through her entire body, blazing a trail of fire the entire way. Alive and hot, burning, consuming, charring her alive. She screamed.

"There, there, youngling." Toph pressed a cold compress to her temple, and Daphne leaned into it. The fire from the liquid and the pain from her withdrawal fought a battle inside her, and she was blinded by the fire dancing beneath her lids. She couldn't hear anything except the roaring of flames and her own screams as the agony yanked her down.

***

Daphne didn't know if minutes, hours, or days had passed, but eventually the pain lifted. Her throat felt raw, and she was hungry—but this time only for food. She couldn't remember the last time she'd been so sated except for the few days right after she'd taken a soul. The flames had died down, and she was able to hear again.

Toph and a woman were whispering.

"Do you really think she's worth it?" asked the woman.

"I do. She's lived without any help for all her life and survived. Do you know how hard that is for a creature like her?"

Daphne knew. It meant never belonging, stealing memories and feelings and the essences of life from other people. Residing in the dark, with only her own mind, the souls she'd taken, and Rufus for company. Rufus. She hoped the little rascal was okay.

A waft of wariness came Daphne's way. "If you say so," the woman said. Daphne heard footsteps and the muted sound of a door closing.

She opened her eyes.

"You're back."

Toph appeared just as tall to Daphne now as he had when she was a child, and she sniffed the air tentatively. Midthirties, clean, and the hint of something else. Vanilla and herbs? Not quite. She got nothing on the feelings radar though.

"Gonna come up short, youngling. I'm sealed good and tight in here." Toph tapped one finger to his temple. His face seemed as old as his smell told her he was, but his eyes... they were ancient. Cold and ancient. His face would've been handsome if not for those unsettling eyes. She could only stare at him. He'd undoubtedly saved her life—twice, if she counted the time when she'd been young. Without his explanation back then, who knew what would've happened to her?

Daphne pushed herself up slowly.

"Where am I?" she asked, weakly pushing sticky strands of white hair from her face.

Toph chuckled. "Welcome to the land of the living, little reaver."

She swung her legs off the bed and buried her face in her palms. "How long was I out?"

"A day and a half. I wasn't sure whether you got the elixir down in time but seems like you have the soul of a fighter."

Daphne grimaced. "Or 'souls,' as it were," she whispered, meeting the man's eerie eyes once more. "'Toph,' isn't it?"

His mouth twitched, and he almost smiled. Then he extended his right hand toward her. "That's right."

"I'm Daphne." Daphne shook the hand Toph offered and peered at him with a frown. "I never thought I'd see you again. For a while I'd convinced myself it'd all been some messed-up sort of dream—but then I got hungry again. You know, killing someone unwittingly at the age of ten doesn't do wonders for the mind and development."

Toph did smile this time, and it lit up his features so that he seemed much friendlier. "I can imagine."

"I have more questions. A lot of them."

Toph nodded. "Of course."

"What is this place? Who were those people out there? And who was the guy that followed me? Who are you? What did you give me? Why aren't I dead?" She bit her lip to keep from continuing; that should be a good start.

Toph leaned back in his chair. "This is a pub like any other in the world except for the fact it's one of the few in town where we—the myres—can congregate. Everyone down there was a myre, and it was a myre who followed you." He shook his head. "Not the myre you'd want to piss off, as he's one of the more powerful ones."

"A... zephyr? Right?" Daphne asked.

"Yep. Wind angel, but don't be fooled—there's nothing holy about those creatures."

Daphne watched Toph, round-eyed and fascinated. "My-ersss." The word felt foreign on her tongue. "That's what you—what we—are?"

"Correct. There are soul reavers"—he inclined his head toward her—"zephyrs, shapeshifters, nightmares, terrors, demons, and yes, even vampires and werewolves, to name a few. Every monster from almost every myth and legend you ever heard is real."

"So what are you?"

Toph leaned forward, and his stare made her shiver.

"Me? Child, I'm the worst of them all." All color leaked from his freakish eyes, and they went fully black, two pits of darkness drawing her in, drowning her. Fear slid down Daphne's throat and lodged inside her chest, rendering her motionless. She was the mouse being entranced by the snake, and a part of her knew that if she got lost inside, she'd never come back.

Daphne was mercifully released a second later, and she shook her head as Toph's eyes returned to normal. Whatever he was, there was an iciness to him—she'd heard it in his voice as a child and felt it blanketing her now like a breath of frost.

"You should never ask questions you don't really want an answer to," Toph said when she gathered enough breath to speak. Daphne clapped her mouth shut and just stared at him.

"Now then, little reaver. On to your other questions. You're not dead because of what I gave you. It can bring someone back from the brink of demise, but it has..." He pursed his lips. "Side effects."

Daphne raised her brows. "Side effects?"

"Yes. The elixir I gave you is something ancient and very rare. Once taken, it starts to change the recipient. How much it will change you, or in what way, is unknown. It differs from person to person. You'll have some small say in the alterations though."

Daphne held up her hands. "Hold up—so you're saying I'm going to 'change,' but you can't tell me how?"

Toph nodded. "Exactly. It can make you stronger—alter your powers and your appearance." He leaned forward and pegged her with an intense gaze. "It's a priceless gift."

Daphne snorted. "Why waste it on someone like me then?" She studied her nails. "I'm a monster."

Toph placed a cold finger under Daphne's chin to tilt her face up. Once again, his curious eyes held her captive. "All of us are monsters. Some more than others. I do understand why you're anxious, but it was the only thing we could do in such a short time. I didn't see anyone offering his life to save yours. You're special, Daphne. You grew up alone, with only a few words to help you along the way. You haven't turned into a savage who steals and murders left, right, and center, as many other reavers tend to do. You haven't lost your mind to the loneliness, and you've kept your will to live. It couldn't have been easy maintaining that."

Daphne ruminated on all that he'd said. The self-loathing she'd carried for years. The debates about ending it all. She'd tried to kill herself once by jumping off a bridge but awoke on the shore of the river the next day, unharmed. "How do you know so much about me?"

Toph smiled. "Trade secret."

"That's not vague or anything." She glared at him. "So I'm just supposed to believe you? Go home and wait for the inevitable 'change' from a rare elixir you just happened to decide to use on me?"

"I didn't lie to you before, did I? Why would I start now?"

Daphne palmed her face and groaned into it. This was just too bloody strange. "Why? Why would you care if I lived or died?"

"You might've killed a myre if I hadn't used it, and that I couldn't allow." His stare bore into her as if he could see straight into her soul. Maybe he could. "If you can help it, never drain a myre. That's very important. Stick to humans; they're safer."

Toph rose from his chair. "I need to go, but I have no doubt you'll come out of this fine. Goodbye, youngling. I'll see you around."

Daphne stood as well, a lot more frantically than Toph had.

"No, wait! What am I supposed to do now? You can't just leave me here. I still have questions."

Toph pulled a pipe and a sack of tobacco from his breast pocket. So that's where the smell's coming from. Daphne noted additional ingredients besides the vanilla and herbs she'd originally identified but didn't recognize them.

Toph methodically stuffed his pipe while looking at her.

"Your questions will be answered in time. I gave you a second chance, now go and live a little. You have a whole new world to explore." He unearthed a box of matches and brought the pipe to his lips, intermittently touching the lit match to the tobacco and inhaling until they glowed. His teeth clicked on the pipe as he bit down. "Two more things: stay clear of Mistrael, and search for a human soul to take. You'll need it soon."

"Wait, I'm still confus—"

Daphne stared at the spot Toph had been only a second before and blinked. He was gone, poof.

Now that right there was a neat trick.