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“I’m no threat to you, dear,” Vincent said in a now-silky voice. His lips parted in a weary smile, and the light from the lamps flashed off his long canine teeth.

I let out a quiet gasp and leaned closer to my mother. The sound caught Vincent’s attention. “Or to you, little shifter. Your blood wouldn’t be nourishing to one of my kind. We don’t eat creatures, you know?” he said, turning to the group.

“Some of you have tried,” Bryn, the council member in the plaid coat, said.

“No, you don’t eat us; you just kill humans,” added the other woman, Kathrine. “Many humans—our family and friends. Those the disease didn’t claim, your kind finished off. Don’t think we don’t remember,” she huffed, crossing her arms.

Vincent nodded. “We fed on humans,” he admitted. “That’s how we were created. I can’t change what I am, just as you can’t change what you are. Hmmm,” Vincent said, breathing deeply. “I smell, shifter…” He nodded at my father. “Witch…” he glanced at Hanna and Kathrine. “And, Fae?” He locked eyes with Bryn.

Bryn raised his chin in acknowledgment.

“Quite the group you have assembled.”

“There are none of your kind here,” my father said. “Just so you know.”

“No. I didn’t think there would be,” Vincent replied in a low voice.

“How long has it been since you’ve seen your kind?” my mother asked. “Are you alone?”

“It has been a long time. And yes, I am alone.”

“How long has it been since you ate?” I whispered.

I hadn’t meant to speak, but as I stared at the skeleton in front of me, it was all I could think about. How hungry was this monster in our midst? How long had it been since he’d drunk human blood? I hadn’t thought anyone would hear me. Yet, in a room filled with supernatural creatures, most of them turned their heads toward me. I flushed, drawing back, wishing I could take back the question, but dying to know the answer.

The group seemed to want the answer too, and everyone turned their attention to Vincent.

He sighed, and a small smile tugged at his lips. “It’s been years.”

“Years!” Hanna exclaimed. “Gods, how have you managed to survive this long?”

Vincent let out a dry chuckle. “I’m older than I look, Madam. The older we get, the longer we can go without feeding. And…” he said, tilting his head, “…there was nothing out there for me to eat.”

The group shifted in their chairs, and a few exchanged glances.

“What are you doing here?” Kathrine asked. “What brought you this close to our community?”

“I’m looking for something. I have reason to believe what I seek is here,” he said, glancing at me before turning back to my father. “I apologize for the inconvenience. I didn’t mean to alarm anyone.”

“We are not inclined to let you go off in search of whatever it is you came here to find. You should be aware of that,” my father said. “If it were my choice, I would end this right now.” He furrowed his brows in disapproval. “But it’s not my choice alone. We will decide as a group what to do with you.” My father leaned back, adopting a more authoritative posture.

Vincent nodded once more. “I see. So this is a trial?” he asked. “Am I allowed to speak in my defense?”

“I’m not sure what you could say that would make a difference,” my father smirked. “As you said, you can’t help what you are. You’ve fed on humans and most likely killed them. We’ve encountered your kind before,” he said, gripping his cane more tightly with both hands.

My mother glanced at me and then at my father. “Rob, we should at least listen to what he has to say. It’s only fair.” She scanned the faces of the others in the room.

Hanna and Kathrine leaned in to confer while the others considered.

“Well?” my father asked the other council members.

“Let’s hear him out,” Bryn said. The witches nodded in agreement.

“Okay.” My father turned to Vincent. “We’ll listen.”

1

VINCENT