It always amazes me how terrible situations can devolve into worse situations.

My eyes were dry, my feet heavy. My skin itched and my hand ached. It was almost midnight when I parked the sedan in my complex's lot and traipsed upstairs, my keys braced in my good hand, my head hung. It wasn't until I was at my door, ready to unlock it and go inside, that I remembered leaving Telavar in my apartment for the whole day. 

The door opened, and the auburn vamp waited to greet me. 

"Hello, Ms. Winters." 

"Oh, shit," I swore, smacking my forehead with an open palm. "Telavar, I'm so sorry. I forgot you were here, and I had your car all day and most of the night—!"

"That's quite alright, Ms. Winters," he responded, stepping aside to open the door wide. "But there is something—."

"I feel like a jerk," I babbled as I came inside, tripping on the mat. "I'm sure it must have been uncomfortable for you to be stuck here after dark—." 

"Ms. Winters, there's someone—."

"I promise I didn't get a single scratch on your car, and I didn't get it towed, either. That's a record for me these days—."

I came into the apartment properly and caught a glimpse of the living room. It was spotless. The whole place was spotless. The floors, the walls, the ceiling—everything had been wiped, scrubbed, polished, or shined. My books were properly stowed away on their shelves, organized by subject and author, my papers sorted on the desk and my clothes put away.

I would have been more aghast at the idea of a vampire doing my laundry if I hadn't seen Aurel Havik sitting on my sofa, sipping wine. 

"What the hell!" I squeaked, rounding on Telavar as he shut the door with an apologetic shrug. "You let him into my apartment?!" 

"As I was trying to say—." He cleared his throat, the first sign of annoyance I'd ever seen him show. I was impressed. "Master Aurel is here to speak with you." 

"I can see that," I snapped, shoving his car keys into his hands. Havik could hear us perfectly well, but he was content to sit and sip his—my—wine until I stomped into the living room proper.

"Why are you here?" I asked as I stood before the couch, looking down at the vampire. It wasn't often that I could look down upon Havik, seeing as he was so stupidly tall. His gilded eyes flickered over me, taking in the injured hand, my pale face, and the dirt on my blazer. He leaned forward to set the wine glass down on the coffee table, even going so far as to use a coaster. "Have a seat, Ms. Winters."

His cordial welcome was surprising. He doesn't know I lied, I thought as I sank into the armchair with a huff. The touch of the lumpy cushions wasn't as comforting as it usually was, and I squirmed as the skin on my back and rear stung.

"Telavar," Havik drawled as he pulled upon the golden fob leading into his waistcoat's pocket and his watch fell into his hand. "Please wait in the car." 

"Master Aurel?" the younger vamp asked, confused. I was confused as well. Havik's temperament seemed almost...too calm. 

"Go, Telavar."

He didn't argue. With a short nod, the auburn vamp headed out the door. I called out thanks to him, but wasn't sure he'd heard me. I couldn't believe he'd cleaned my entire place. The poor guy must have been bored out of his skull.

"I've been here since sundown, Ms. Winters," Havik explained as he tucked the watch away again. "I don't like to be kept waiting." 

I snorted, slouching as I shuffled out of my blazer and slung it across the armchair's back. "Then you should've called." 

Havik's lip curled as I felt a faint tremble ripple through the floor. "Do you know what I did before I became a cadre master in Roccia Nera?" 

An odd question. I shook my head, answering, "No." 

"You and Wyrd never discussed the previous vocation of his master?"

Again, I shook my head. "No. Actually, Wyrd was the one who first warned me to stay away from you."

Havik's hand closed into a white-knuckled fist and my eyes widened, an innate alarm sounding in my head. "Before becoming a simple cadre master, I was in charge of an intelligence network centered in Wales. Now, what that means—Ms. Winters—is that I am not an idiot, and that I know everything but where my daughter is!" 

The wine glass shattered and I jumped as shards fell to my torn rug. What wine remained hung suspended until it too hit the table and the floor. 

"Apologies," the seething vampire said, making no move to clean his mess. "I have difficulty handling liars."

I held myself very still and watched the thick rills of cheap wine spread through the ruined rug. "You knew I would go." 

"I'd hoped you'd be smarter than that."

"She was there," I said quietly, aware of how agitated Havik was, given the uneasy motions of his magic weaving through the room. "At the pit. I believe she was taken from there."

Havik stiffened, his eyes fixed solely upon my own, though the weight of his complete attention was unnerving. "What is your proof?"

"My word is my proof. If you do not believe me, you are a fool."

He rose then, and I shrank in my chair as the master vampire came to loom over me, carefully stepping around the spilled wine. I could see the refusal in his glare warring with bitter acquiescence. Havik didn't want to accept that one of his cadre members had gone against him and risked their life, but Havik wasn't a fool and knew when the time for denial was at an end.

"How did you get inside?" he demanded. "Though it may not seem like much, Ishcer's establishment has a strict, confidential guest list. I am not even allowed in, though it has something to do with my penchant for blackmail more than my distaste for blood sports."

"I bargained with the Darkling, with Xerex Darhan," I admitted with a measure of guilt, lowering my eyes to his chest and the glittering ruby pin stuck through his cravat.

"You will come to regret that."

"Most likely." I grimaced. "Or undoubtedly." 

Havik knelt and I scowled, disliking his proximity, especially when he was angry. "Where is she now?"

"Theda?" I shrugged because I was too tired to say anything more eloquent. "They took her through a tunnel that led up to the surface, and I don't know where it went."

"You didn't follow it?" 

"I may have run into the Baron and some problems ensued." 

Havik muttered something under his breath that was probably an old forgotten expletive. "Tell me, Grae. You were there. Do you think she...she still lives?"

"I can't say." I squirmed again—stopping when Havik's hands landed on either arm of the cushioned chair. "She was alive when she left. There was...strange magic there. I've sensed it a few times over the last few days, hovering over the dead vampires I've—err—assisted Sibbie with. It's difficult to explain to someone else, but the magic feels...unnatural. Like it shouldn't exist."

Havik's brow rose. "And you sensed this magic with Theda?" 

"I don't know if it's with her, only that it was there, in the basement of the lounge." I bit the side of my knuckle, my mind striving to unravel so many chains of thought despite its exhaustion. "There was another Baron there, Baron Di Stefano, who had the same magic hanging about him—and clear Jure syndrome markers. But it didn't make sense, because those two things don't correlate...do they?" 

If Havik knew what I was talking about, he didn't show it. "Whatever schemes Ishcer is enacting, you cannot concern yourself with them. I've suspected he's behind Theda's disappearance but cannot act against him directly. Neither can you. To find her, we cannot go through Emial. We must outmaneuver him."

"Can't you just have that snake killed?" I grumbled, wishing it could be so simple. "You have a hitman in your cadre, after all."

Havik sucked air through his teeth, disapproving. "It is the twenty-first century, Ms. Winters. Even vampires cannot simply off those who vex them without considerable consequences."

"Consequences worse than losing your daughter?"

Something dark crossed the vampire's expression, staining the vivid sheen of his eyes. "Possibly."

Well, that was unfortunate. I wasn't one to advocate murder, but my problems with Ishcer were only compounding. I'd royally pissed him off tonight. 

"You are an expert in your field, Ms. Winters, but you cannot understand the world of a vampire unless you are one. It is not kill or be killed. For an immortal, there are worse fates than death to be reaped by careless political maneuvers. As a master, should I act against Ishcer, retaliation would be met against my cadre, against Telavar and Wyrd and Theda. Against my associates. Against their associates. The Emial cadre would come after you, Grae, and after your detective friend. And your lion friend. And his pack. It is our way." 

I swallowed, my mouth dry.

Havik reached for my wounded hand and I jerked away, images of the Baron closing his mouth over the cut and lapping at my blood flashing through my mind. Havik grabbed me despite my resistance, holding the arm out so he could observe the injury.

"I am not an animal, Ms. Winters—," he muttered, voice cold with disdain upon witnessing my reaction. "—who cannot resist his nature. It is not to be ignored, but I am the master of my will—not you, not your blood. I do not slaver over the scraps discarded by others." He dismissed the cut as inconsequential and began to tug my sleeve up. "Though, as I said, one should never ignore their nature."

The Mark upon my forearm's underside was burning as vividly as a lit lantern, the illumination wavering in the lines of heat rising from the scars themselves. The pale skin edging the cyan lines was red and inflamed, tender beneath Havik's clinical touch.

I'd never seen such a reaction before, but I'd also never used my ability to the extent that I'd been employing it lately.

"Let me share a piece of what I know, Ms. Winters, as you are ignorant to your own limitations for reasons unfathomable to me." The vampire's cold fingertips trailed across my skin and I winced, trying to pull away. "The magic you imbibe does not simply cease to be. You take it into yourself and must shed the excess. If you do not learn how to wield what you have and what you are capable of, you will simply burn, because your power is greater than what you are."

"I don't understand."

"Hence why I called you ignorant, Ms. Winters. That is your curse—but also your gift." Havik released me but did not move away, leaning too far into my personal space. I could smell his expensive cologne and the light metallic twang of his breath. "It was not meant for this."

"Then what was it meant for?" I fired back, wanting to grab the vampire by the collar and shake him until the answers I sought came spilling out. "Am I a...a Harbinger?"

Havik cringed, reeling before he caught himself.

"Tell me. What am I?"

The vampire rose, eclipsing the light with his body as he retrieved his long coat from the couch's arm. "All I will tell you is that if you're as smart as you suppose, you won't go asking questions. You'll settle for ignorance and keep yourself hidden. Ask too many questions, and you won't like the answers."

Perhaps Havik was right, but I didn't have to agree with him. After all, he didn't have to live his life in constant fear, denying who he was, lying to everyone he met while covering himself in layer upon layer of clothing to hide the scars carved into him by a madman. I wanted answers, and though I wouldn't find them today or tomorrow, I would find them eventually.

"Get out," I growled as I crossed my arms and my legs, turning my nose up. "You weren't invited here."

"As you wish." The vampire went to leave, but paused at the side of my seat as he folded his coat over his arm. "Oh, and Grae?"

"What?"

The lightbulb in the overhead fixture suddenly burst and I gasped as the chair underneath me vanished. A large fist closed in the front of my turtleneck, lifting me clear off the floor until my back was against the ceiling and his knuckles were jammed into my chest. The only light came from the scars on my arm and the ones revealed on my stomach when my shirt's hem was hiked up.

Havik glowered up at me as I wrapped both hands around his immobile wrist and kicked the air. The vampire was just freakishly strong—and freakishly terrifying.

"Lie to me again—," he hissed, lowering me with ease until my eyes were only an inch from his. My glasses slipped on my nose, casting his face into a blur. "And you will not like what happens."

I was dropped without another word, landing in my lumpy chair, and by the time I resituated my glasses and recovered enough breath to retort, Havik had disappeared.