The world returned to me in begrudging increments.

I lay on something soft with the kiss of cool air nipping my bare face and arm. The scars of that arm emitted a thin, watery glow, illuminating the black duvet my fingers were curled into. The bed was large and unfamiliar, weak strains of light and muted conversation drifting into the strange room through the open archway.

There was an armoire in the room and a dresser, too, the brass handles catching what little light there was to be found. Turning my head, I spied a nightstand with an unlit lamp, a roll of bandages, scissors, and an orange prescription bottle left out with a watch, a pair of cufflinks, and my scratched eyeglasses. The furniture and accessories were expensive and comprised of fine materials.

None of this mattered to me in my semi-conscious state. I buried my face into the pillow, ready to drift off to sleep once more—when I happened to take a deep breath, and inhaled a rich, familiar cologne.

I sat up, groaning when my broken collarbone complained at the movement and my neck twanged. The events of the bookstore came flooding back to my memory in unforgiving detail. I touched the bandages covering Theda's bite as I tried to recall what had happened afterward and how I'd ended up here. 

This was Havik's apartment. This was Havik's bed. 

I peeled the sheets off, lip curling at the new pajamas I was dressed in as I stood. Blood rushed from my head and swooned, but I managed to stay upright and stumble to the archway. When my fingers caught against rough, torn wood, I flinched and studied the archway, spying the ripped groove where a doorjamb had once been. 

Havik had torn out the door and its jamb. Weird. 

I stepped into a living room that was reminiscent of Theda's apartment, though this one was larger and decidedly cleaner. One wall held the same built-in shelves, but where hers had been filled with CDs and movies and other knick-knacks, Havik's held nothing but thick, leather-bound books and priceless antiques hidden behind glass.

There was a flat-screen television set between the shelves, and it was currently displaying a news broadcast. The headline emblazoned above the picture read, "Revenant plot unveiled: Vampire leaders come under scrutiny."

The timestamp was 9:03 AM.

I didn't understand how it was so dark in that apartment when it was already midmorning, and then I studied the windows on the far wall and saw the paint covering the panes. Paint. The vampire had painted the treated glass in a solid black paint that didn't allow even the barest blush of daylight inside.

Movement from the sofa drew my eye from those windows to the middle of the room again. Havik, seated between a slumbering Telavar and Theda, was rising to his feet, easing Theda aside as to not disturb her. She looked just as her picture had, though somehow she seemed smaller when asleep, her hand clutched tightly by Telavar's on the sofa's back.

The vampire master looked tired with his rumpled attire and heavy eyes. It was understandable, considering it was well past dawn and vampires were supposed to be dead to the world. How was he awake? It didn't make sense.

"Ms. Winters," Havik murmured as he came to stand before me, his hands folded together. "Are you well?"

"Tell me you weren't the one to change my clothes," I grumbled, unable to fight the color rising to my cheeks. I didn't meet his eye, and instead stared at his shoes. Please spare my dignity at least that small amount.

Havik scoffed, though the sound was more genial than his usual derision. "As I said, I have a doctor on retainer, and she was the one to dress you, Ms. Winters. I was not in the room—and, rest assured, she is very discreet. You have my word."

"Good." I shuffled, then winced at the pain it shot through my shoulder. "Is Sibbie okay?"

The vampire nodded. "Your detective friend is fine. A bit dazed, but she will suffer no ill effects. I've kept her abreast of your condition over the past day and night."

Day and night. No wonder I was so thirsty.

"Is Theda okay?"

Again, Havik nodded, glancing toward the woman with a visible sigh of relief. Though my ability was muted, his contentment was easy to sense as it filled the entire room. "She will be. I owe you my thanks, Ms. Winters...Grae. She said you saved her life."

I snorted. "Really, all I did was flounder like a beached fish, but okay. You're welcome."

"She wishes to apologize for this." His fingers grazed my neck and the thick bandage, his fingers surprisingly warm. "I told her not to."

"Why?"

"Emial's dogs were forcing her to consume vampire blood. You know that doing so makes my kind quite sick. She couldn't help herself."

That was true. I watched Theda snore into the curve of her arm, unburdened in the presence of her family, and couldn't bring myself to be angry with her. It was foolish to feel indignant when feeding was part of a vampire's nature. She'd been scared, and she'd tried to protect me to the best of her ability. She hadn't hesitated to do so, and that spoke well of her character.

Havik's mouth twitched with his hand still on my injury. "Wyrd will be pleased when he arrives."

Yikes. I planned to be long gone by then.

"So," I said, ignoring his statement. "What vengeance are you planning to take on Ishcer for all this? And what about Ferryton's Baron? What's going to happen now?" 

Havik shrugged. "A lot and a little. Ferryton's Baron won't be missed nor his demise traced back to us, and Emial will answer for what he's done, but not now. Vengeance against him is not as simple as breaking his neck or setting his house on fire. He will have to repent in...different ways." 

Ah. Vampire politics.

I cleared my throat, changing the subject again. "I completed my side of the bargain. You and your cadre get to leave me alone—and you get to tell me what you know Harbingers."

Again, Havik flinched when I mentioned the name, his smile slipping. "Do I, now?" He stepped forward and I reciprocated, easing backward until my shoulder bumped the wall and the vampire followed, leaning his weight into mine.

My face burned and my heart thundered inside my chest. What is wrong with me?

Havik's large hands framed my jaw, fingers feathering through my hair and over the tips of my sharp ears. "Such an inquisitive thing you are," he drawled, thumbs sweeping across my cheekbones. My right hand was wrapped around his wrist, his pulse steady against mine. "It'll be simpler for me to show you."

"Show me?"

"Yes." He placed ever so slight pressure on my skin, his eyes gleaming. "Imagine your magic is like a hood, or a blanket, and draw it back from your mind. In this way, you can allow magic such as this to influence you."

I can do that? I'd never been influenced by magic before, and could admit I was curious as to what it'd be like. I was also wary.

"What are you going to?" I asked, unsure.

"Show you a memory. It's a simple spell we vampires have that is akin to a reverse glamour. We are capable of skimming memories from the top of someone's mind, if they allow us, are also capable of the reverse—of giving memories and images when it suits our needs."

Freezing, I glowered at the man. "And you're not going to skim my thoughts, are you?"

Havik's amused response was quiet and breathed into my ear, his chest rumbling with the sound of his low voice. "Your thoughts are plain enough to me as is, Grae."

It should've been impossible, but my face grew hotter.

"Now...either let me show you, or stop asking the question," he said, drawing back so I could meet his hard stare. "If I were you, I'd choose ignorance, Ms. Winters, but I won't deny you what you've earned."

Jaw clenched, I shut my eyes as my fist curled around his wrist and I began to pull my soul from my mind. It was a difficult task, not unlike trying to use one's hands to push water from something, but Havik acted swiftly, his magic slipping through the sloppy gaps I created. I shivered at the cold, tingling sensation, and gasped when images began to flicker behind my eyes. Abruptly I was in a much larger body with keener sight and exceptional hearing.

I had a starring role in the memory: I was Aurel Havik.

The mansion's foyer was dark, as was befitting a cadre's lair. My cane touched each step in turn, the long hem of my coat brushing against my knees. There was a nervous energy in the room, like static upon my tongue. The others saw my coming and cleared the sweeping stairs to make room.

A sound below drew my eyes. One of Ansgar's newlings choked and fell to his knees, hands fluttering at his throat. His companion bent to help him, hand on his elbow, and the lad tipped his head up toward the upper-level balcony. I stood at the railing as the sudden gleam of blue burst in his eyes.

Dread almost leveled me.

"Away from him!" I snarled—but my warning didn't come in time. The newling grinned as veins of blue light spiraled upward from his collar, and he thrust his hand into his companion's chest.

Harbingers. 

Invisible but for the brief streaks of cyan light streaming through the air, their attack was swift and soundless. They were everywhere in an instant, vampires old and young collapsing with hushed screams as the Harbingers infiltrated into their bodies and crushed their souls.

There was nothing I could do. I was helpless—helpless!

Ansgar was at the head of the stairs, shouting direction that fell upon dead ears when one of the invaders coalesced before him, the creature's body a maze of incandescent scars, a nondescript mask of wood set over the lower portion of his face. His vile eyes glowed with power as he wrapped a hand about Ansgar's throat and squeezed.

"Ansgar Einer," he laughed as the master lashed out. "You and your cadre have been found...wanting."

The invader's body crumpled as the light fled from it and entered Ansgar. The master screamed and clawed at his own face as his veins split, bathing him and the room in crimson and blue. His brown eyes flickered and rolled, the irises replaced with mirrors of cyan as the energy of the body-snatcher's magic turned his black hair into burnished silver.

Gone. Ansgar was gone. In mere seconds, they were all gone. 

More of the creatures were appearing in their corporeal forms. No matter where I looked, the Einer cadre members lay dead, their souls crushed and devoured, or their bodies now ridden by the blue nightmares.

My chest heaved with panic.

One approached me as what used to be Ansgar bent at the waist to pluck the mask from the forgotten corpse. I didn't miss his smile before the mask was put into place.

He was the Mask of Ruin.

A hand touched my chest and I struck, snarling as the sharp magic drove itself into my very being. I caught the gleam of spectacles on a tall, lithe figure before the fire enfolded my mind.

Nothing I could do. Nothing I could do.

I refused to scream. I refused.

The memory ended without warning and I sputtered for breath, shivering in the grips of the vampire's remembered terror as I found myself once more peering into Aurel's golden eyes.

"That is what you are," he crooned, thumbs meeting below my chin to tip my face toward his. The heat of Havik's body against mine was almost oppressive. "A body-thief. A forgotten remnant of an older time, a nightmare that plagued the supernatural for generations, killing without remorse, without pause, without end. That is what you are, Grae Winters. You are a Harbinger."

I had so many questions. They'd moved with such grace, such speed, dispersing and materializing physical forms, baring their vivid scars without thought or care. They'd changed bodies like they were clothes!

Havik's phone began to ring and he reacted to silence it, lifting it from his pants' pocket in a single, deft movement as he allowed a modicum of space between us. He frowned at what must have been an unknown number and answered, holding the phone to his ear. "Havik."

My proximity to the vampire allowed me to hear the distant, unfamiliar voice speaking through the phone. "Touch her again, vampire, and you die."

I gawked as Havik's brow rose. "Is that so?"

Who is that?

The vampire dropped the phone and it hit the wood floor with a clatter. I didn't have a chance to glance at it before Havik brought his mouth crashing down onto mine.

He tasted of salt and iron and something sweeter, the flavor altogether unfamiliar to me as my lips parted in alarm under his. His hands were on my face again, holding my head steady as his mouth moved and his tongue took full advantage of my surprise. 

Then, Havik was gone, tearing his lips from mine as he fell to the ground with a grunt of pain, one hand on my waist for support, the other clutching his chest. He coughed, eyes wild, and crimson slid between his elongated teeth. 

"Aurel, what the hell is happening?!" I yelled, not caring if I woke the sleeping vampires as I gripped the shoulders of his waistcoat. The flow of blood increased.

With my attention centered on the dying man at my feet, I almost missed it when something brush by me. Magic called to magic, and my gaze swiveled upward, second sight sliding into place so I could see what had reached out to me.

There was somebody here. Their magic—their soul—a burning slash of lightning in the smattering of duller emotions in the cadre master's apartment. It was shaped like a person, and they had their arm shoved through Havik's chest. I stared, wordless, as the intruder's blank face lifted as if looking at me.

It vanished, and Havik inhaled.

"What...." I whispered, trembling again as the vampire shot upright, shoving my hands away. Red dripped from his chin and stained his attire. "What was...?"

"That—," the vampire explained, brushing his mouth with his sleeve. The sound of skin on fabric was loud in the encumbering silence. "Was a Harbinger."

What?!

The vampire grinned with his fangs in plain sight, something akin to victory in his gilded eyes as his fingers curled beneath my chin. "Things are about to become much more...interesting."

TO BE CONTINUED IN MASK OF RUIN.

#2024 Update: Series is discontinued.