ME: So... everything is fine, but I won't be coming back to my apartment for a couple days.

MOM: So everything is NOT fine.

ME: Well, I'm safe. So that part is fine.

MOM: Where are you staying? Did you decide to go to the Sylvan Court?

ME: Not exactly.

ME: Dad kinda picked me up.

ME: So I met him.

ME: He's here.

ME: ... Mom?

I was still waiting on a response to that text chain, so that wasn't fun, but at least we all got some sleep.

Blessedly, nothing happened in the night. No one showed up to follow us, no one smashed though windows to drag us away, and there were no strange noises outside besides the normal sounds of the woods and the creatures inhabiting it. Even if there had been strange noises, I wasn't sure I would have heard them. I slept like the dead, and I woke up feeling groggy and disoriented.

Dante was still asleep when I woke, so I carefully slipped out of bed and wandered into the living room in the same clothes I wore yesterday.

Ray was already awake and reading a book on the sofa, but he looked up when I walked over.

"Morning," he mumbled. He still looked half asleep, but there was a cup of coffee on the table beside him, so maybe he needed to finish it before he was ready to face the world. Mom was the same way.

"Any chance I could shower?" I asked, nose wrinkling. It was getting to the point where I could kind of smell myself, my hair was in need of a wash, and I had a crust of dried blood on my bruised and scratched kneecaps.

"Of course," he said, nodding. "Bathroom is the second door on the left, and there are towels. There's women's clothes in the dresser in the other room if you need them, too."

"Thank you," I sighed. I hesitated for a moment, but then decided to go ahead and say the other thing that had been rattling around in my mind. "And thanks for picking us up. You didn't have to do that."

"That's what dads are supposed to do," he said, the corner of his mouth quirking upwards in a little half smile. "How's your friend?"

"Still asleep," I said, frowning. "He's weak, though. I'm hoping I can convince him to take a little more of my blood to help him heal, but he doesn't want to drink from me if he can help it."

"Oh, he's a vampire?" Ray's eyebrows raised sky high. "I thought he was fae from— I mean, the wings?"

"Half and half," I said, shrugging.

"I can help with that, then," he said, pointing to the kitchen. "There's a mini fridge under the counter that we keep stocked with a few blood bags for emergencies. Ethically sourced, I promise— or as ethical as you can get." His nose scrunched as he spoke, and it looked a little like the same expression I made when I didn't like the sound of something.

It was strange to see parts of my face on another face.

"You took them from hospital transports, didn't you?" I asked, nodding slowly. It would be the most logical way to do it, and the time when they were under the least security barriers.

"Just one here and there," Ray admitted. "It's never enough to wipe out their whole stock, but sometimes we get vampires here, and they need it. Once they're well enough to hunt, there are plenty of animals around. The deer population—"

"Out of control, yeah," I said, sighing. "Honestly, we should let the vampires just go at the deer, if it'll help the ecosystem."

"My thoughts exactly, but apparently there's a worry that they'll come back as deer vampires, and they say bloodless meat doesn't sell well," Ray scoffed.

"Free jerky," I muttered, unable to keep myself from smiling.

Ray tried and failed to stifle a laugh, and it gave me hope. Maybe our sense of humor was similar, too.

I wanted a dad. I wouldn't lie to myself or to anyone else about that. I'd always wanted to know what he was like, to understand everything that happened from his point of view, and some part of me that was still a little girl desperately hoped this might be a chance for it.

The adult part of me understood that it might be too late, though. I was angry at both him and my mom. I understood keeping it from me as a child, especially since the Sylvan-witch conflicts really kicked up around the time I was born. However, I was an adult now, and it seemed unfair to keep the truth from me for this long.

"Thanks," I said. "I'll shower and... bring him a blood bag." Strange sentence, but you got used to that when you grew up a witch. It was just one more for the books at this point.

I wondered who the "we" Ray mentioned was, but I really didn't want to get into that at the moment. We could all talk about it later, when Dante was awake. Right now, all I wanted was to shower and to not think about all the shit that happened in the last twelve hours.

I fished out a change of clothes from the drawer, glad that there seemed to be an abundance of simple pieces to choose from. I really didn't care about fashion at the moment, especially since we weren't going anywhere until Dante healed, so I picked a black t-shirt that was definitely three sizes too big and a pair of purple plaid pajama pants.

A hot shower did wonders, and by the time I scrubbed off the grime of yesterday, slipped into clean clothes, and went into the kitchen barefoot to grab Dante's blood bag from the fridge, I felt much more like myself.

I rolled up the legs of the pajama pants so they didn't drag the floor and let my damp hair hang down my back as I slowly opened the bedroom door. Unsurprisingly, Dante was still fast asleep, but he did need to get up soon. Not only did he need the nourishment, but I imagined he probably had a crick in his neck from sleeping with his head turned to the side all night without moving.

"Morning, sunshine," I said, gently nudging Dante awake. He groaned and tried to roll over, but that turned into a cry of pain.

"What time is it?" He muttered, eyes still closed.

"Early," I admitted. "I have presents, though."

I pressed a cold hospital blood bag into his hand, and his eyes immediately opened wide.

"Where did you get this?" he asked, gently taking it and examining the bag like it might disappear at any moment.

"Ray says they keep a small stock for vampires who might need use of the house. There were also some sealed slabs of raw meat in there, I guess for weres?" I was slightly uncomfortable with the idea of eating raw meat, but weres with carnivorous other halves tended to crave it.

"How did he even know about this place?" Dante asked. "Where are we? Did he say anything?"

"No." I looked away, very determined to focus on a knot in one of the wooden floorboards. "I'll need to ask him. I... honestly wasn't ready to have that conversation."

"I can understand that," he said gently.
"Go on, drink up," I said, making a shooing motion with both hands. I wanted out of the conversation, but I also wanted him to get some nutrition. Food would help, yes, but blood was better for him than anything else would be.

I opted not to watch Dante suck down the blood like it was a morbid Capri Sun pouch, and instead went to grab my bag from where I discarded it on the bedside table the night before.

I didn't have much with me, though luckily one of those things was a spare phone charger. Otherwise, there were just the usual contents of my purse— wallet, keys, chap stick, hair clip, hand sanitizer, tarot cards, protection bottle, and one glass bottle full of a pale purple, slightly shimmering powder.

That was the one I wanted.

I pulled it from the depths of my crossbody bag and popped the lid open, pleased when the familiar herbal smell wafted towards my nose. There was a mirror on the far side of the room, over the dresser, and I situated myself in front of it with the bottle, examining my hair for a moment before I dipped my fingers into the powder.

"What are you doing?" Dante mumbled, tilting his head as he watched me sprinkle some of the bottle's contents on my head and massage it into my scalp.

"Dyeing my hair," I said simply, focusing on the mirror so I could make sure to rub in all the powder. "Routine helps me keep calm."

Sometimes I forgot to rub the treatment into my scalp after I showered, and I could miss a few days before the potion wore off, but I didn't like to miss a day. It was why I kept the extra bottle in my purse in the first place. This was a self-care thing for me, and I did feel calmer as I worked. The powder smelled like lavender and rosemary, and it left my scalp feeling warm and tingly. It also helped to strengthen my hair so that it grew long, and the length was a reminder to me that I took the time to care for myself.

It was important to me, so I was glad he didn't question why I bothered with the process when we were in a safe house on the run from magical murderers.

The second part of that thought managed to momentarily undo all the calm I'd managed to gain thus far, but I could probably shove it away into some little mental jail with force. I was at a cabin on a vacation.

Yeah. A vacation.

It was just a really, really sudden vacation.

"You... magically dye your hair?" Dante asked, blinking.

"Yeah," I said with a shrug. "It's much easier and cheaper than normal dye. Plus, I never have to worry about roots."

"What color is it normally?" He raised an eyebrow, staring like he might be able to pick it out if he looked hard enough, but he never would. The powder didn't dye my existing hair, it made my actual hair grow purple, and the sunlight naturally turned the ends bright pink as they grew.

"You'll never know." I turned briefly to flash him a smile.

Dante chuckled, and I was just glad he felt alive enough to laugh. It was a good sign.

It didn't take me long to finish up with my hair, but I felt a little more alive, too, once the process was finished. I cleaned up my hands in the bathroom sink, washing off the dregs of powdered potion, and then returned to the bedroom.

I wasn't quite ready to face Ray yet.

"I don't think a safe house would have wi-fi, but there was a stack of DVDs in the living room," I said. "I promised you we'd have a movie day. I just didn't think it would be like this."

I took a seat on the edge of the bed and tucked my legs to my chest, looking sheepishly over at Dante. The blood seemed to have helped— there was some color in his cheeks now, and the dark circles under his eyes seemed a little less severe, though his skin was obviously still pale.

"The last time anything like this happened, my girlfriend at the time went off on vacation while I healed, so... I'd say this is much better," he said, laughing ruefully.

My mouth hung open. I wasn't sure which part of that statement was more surprising.

"The last time— When did this happen before?! When did you have a girlfriend?"

"Is that odd? I do date, you know," he said, frowning.

"No, I just..." I just thought he was gay. There wasn't really a good way to put that, but a few seconds of silence went by, and he seemed to guess what I hadn't said by the rising color in my cheeks.

Dante smirked. "To answer an unspoken question, I'm not picky. If I like you, I like you."

Oh.

I blushed, going back to making tea, and Dante just laughed— which then quickly turned into a cough that was so violent it made me wince.

"To answer a spoken question," he continued, taking a deep breath as his coughing slowed and stopped, "sometimes princes run into trickly situations. I've been injured pretty badly before."

"Well, let's make sure it doesn't happen again," I muttered, setting my jaw. I wasn't sure I could emotionally take it, especially since I felt responsible for what happened to him this time.

If he hadn't been here to protect me, he never would have met Calen. If he never met Calen, we wouldn't be in this situation. If I hadn't ignored every single red flag that Calen ever showed— the secrets, the desire for control, assuming he knew my mind better than I did— we wouldn't be in this situation.

"I know what you're thinking. Stop that," he snapped, brow furrowing.

"I thought vampire mind reading was just a myth," I said, trying to brush him off with a joke, but I still couldn't bring myself to look at him. I certainly couldn't bring myself to smile.

"I don't need to read minds to see what you're thinking all over your face," he said gently, reaching over to place a hand on my shoulder. "This isn't your fault, Sunday. Calen made his own decisions. You didn't ask him to do that."

It was sweet of him to say, but... in a way, it was my fault.

My soul mate was a murderer, and I'd led him right to his target. There was no telling if I was on the list, too, after the dreams I'd had.

"Calen's behind the Sylvan attacks, too, isn't he?" I murmured, half to myself and half just to have the thought out in the open.

Dante pursed his lips, taking a moment to weigh the situation.

"It's possible. I can't say for sure, but it looks very possible," he said slowly.

"Do you think he went after you because you're a royal?"

"That's one explanation, yes," he said with a huff. "I think it's more likely that he knew I was supposed to protect you, though, and without me in the way, he had a clear path to influence you to help him with whatever he wants to do with that Witches' Collective he's building. The Council still hasn't been able to get behind those doors. The wards there are too strong."

I thought for a moment. I'd been able to pass through the doors without a problem, and Calen didn't know that I'd been there to rescue Dante.

"I could do it," I said, finally looking up at him.

Dante shook his head. "It's too dangerous for you to go alone."

"I've been there before, though," I insisted. "I got inside. They won't suspect a thing."

"They might after this," he said firmly.

"Not if I do it now," I said. "If I go in the next few days, they won't know you survived the attack in the park. The Council would want to keep it quiet for a while, anyways. We've got a window of time, here."

"We do," he admitted. "And I still think it's a bad idea. It's your life. I can't tell you how to make your choices, but if something were to go south, none of the Council scouts can get in to help you."

I paused, slumping.

"That... that's a good point, actually."

At the least, it would be nice to have backup. I'd left behind or lost about all the other witch friends that I had, though, and I wasn't about to drag my family into this. It would be hard to find witches we knew we could trust, but the benefit of having help if something went wrong might be worth it... as long as it didn't take too long to find them.

"Sunday," Dante said slowly. "How did you know I was there? Last night, I mean."

"I was trying to chase you down after you left the shop," I said. "I looked at the journal, and I realized—" I cut off, shaking my head.

Dante motioned for me to go on.

"Another time. It's a long story," I sighed. "Anyways, I followed your Threads to track you, but when I got close, I... saw..."

I saw Calen stab him with a silver-plated hunting knife.

"I'm surprised I'm alive," he said, running a hand through his hair.

"Ribs aren't a good place to strike," I said. The knife never went through the bones to get at his heart. "But... I..."

I trailed off, looking between him and the rumpled comforter.

"Spit it out," Dante finally said. "I know you know something."

He did have a right to know. It was his life.

I probably should have told him exactly what was going to happen the second I saw something was wrong with his Threads, but I hadn't wanted to scare him. I thought it might pass on by without any other incident and without any further involvement from me, but clearly I was very, very wrong about that.

"I changed your Threads," I admitted, my voice no louder than a whisper. "I normally don't do that. I normally refuse to do that. It was just... I knew you were going to die if I didn't, and I couldn't handle the thought."

Dante sat up and shuffled towards me, reaching out with both arms to pull me close. I leaned into his chest and wrapped my arms around him, holding him gently and trying not to jostle his wound.

"Thank you," he murmured. "You saved my life. Twice, apparently."

I stayed like that for a long moment, just sitting in the embrace. I wanted to keep holding him. He smelled like cedar and frankincense and musk, and everything about him felt comfortingly solid. Tears welled in my eyes, but I forced them down. Now was not the time to cry.

Dante was alive. That's all I could ask for.

Then, suddenly, a voice echoed through the cabin from the living area.

"Raegel Waters, get your ass to the front door this second!"

... Apparently I hadn't heard from my mom because she'd picked up her car keys and immediately started driving here.