Throwing my car into park, I inspected the house the maps-app had taken me to: a small, blue-siding affair with a wheelchair ramp up to the front door from a rather lopsided-looking, open faced garage.
The chimney at the back puffed furiously, warming the little place from the inside. Various tarps peppered with snowfall were strewn about the yard, some covering larger projects with two-by-four crafted structures peeking out. These flapped in the snowy breeze. Others were flatter and properly tamped down with loose bricks.
Other cars were parked out-front, a total of five, two of which - Ray's van and Caleb's pickup - were familiar. Others only vaguely tickled my memory from the carwash. I gathered my wits and stepped out into the flurries, making it quickly to the front door. I didn't have to knock.
"Hey there," Caleb greeted, opening the door wide and gesturing for me to come in.
His face flushed slightly pink, as if he'd been exercising up until hearing my approach, but he didn't smell sweaty. Only a simple, earthy tang of evergreen filled the air. He took my jacket, his fingers brushing along my arms in his eagerness, and hung it on a set of overloaded hooks near the door. I rubbed the tingly spots where he'd touched me, trying instead to make it appear as if I were simply warming myself.
"We're all in the living area," he said, standing over me in the narrow hallway, his chest very close when he squeezed slowly past.
The scent of rich earth and pine washed through my nose and mouth, momentarily wiping my mind blank. As if sensing this, he paused, looking down quizzically.
"You look a little red," I noted, pressing against the opposite wall to regain some space between us.
"I'm on dinner duty," he said with a small smile, dark eyes glittering gently as he took in my blush.
"You're always on dinner duty," I heard Ray's voice call, making the pair of us jump. Caleb led on and the space opened into a cozy little kitchen, "On account of being the best cook."
"Emma can give me a run for my money," Caleb shrugged.
"I'm the best baker," Emma corrected from the living area, "Cooking is all you."
About eleven people were crushed into the space: Ray, Terry, Owen, Emma, Gavin, Aaron, Liam, Jeremy, Morgan, and three women I'd never seen. The oldest one was about Terry's age judging by her calm, lined features. The other two were in their twenties.
One sat on the loveseat beneath the arm of... Jeremy, I guessed. I'd only seen him once at the bonfire; he was less familiar than the others.
Emma, I presumed, had taken a spot in front of the fire and though Owen appeared to be sweating profusely, he was sitting resolute beside her. I noticed Emma's face for the first time; a long scratch tore from eyebrow to jawline across the right side of her face. The scar was old, browned, but unmistakably from an animal. I put a pin in that observation and the unease it triggered in my gut.
Gavin and Aaron had chosen to sit cross-legged in front of the screen-door that led out to a backyard, likely to benefit from a breeze. Liam and Jeremy sat stiffly on a loveseat, Liam hogging the seat itself aside from the small space the woman occupied, while Jeremy perched on an armrest.
Ray's wheelchair sat in a well-worn track on the rug that was directly opposite the television set. Terry flanked him with a chair stolen from the kitchen table.
Morgan sat at the far end of the kitchen table nearest the counters and regarded me with a black glare. The other unfamiliar woman, who stood behind Morgan, flicked the girl's temple and Morgan relented.
"Good turnout," I breathed.
Now that I was here, anxiety began to buzz against my insides. I was no stranger to leadership nor public speaking, but I hadn't done anything of this capacity since that final battle...
I flinched, attempting to cover the action by walking toward the kitchen counter to inspect Caleb's handiwork.
"What's on the menu?"
"Baked Chicken Fajitas," Caleb said, moving back to a large bowl and pestle in which sat a half-mashed green sauce of some kind.
"Smells garlicky."
"You caught me," he chuckled, though he didn't meet my eyes.
"Garlic is somewhat a myth," I said, crossing my arms and leaning against the counter beside him, "It doesn't affect vampires... but it does affect werewolves."
"Really?" Ray piped up.
"Really," I nodded, looking at the group whose collective posture was now leaning in, "Garlic can be a powerful antibiotic. It was believed that vampirism was caused by blood-infection, and thus garlic was employed in an attempt to ward against them. Vampirism's spread isn't infection-adjacent, but lycanthropy's is."
"Then what is vampirisim, then?"
"Vampirism spreads by way of venom which is more chemically based than bacterial or viral," I saw Terry nod at this apparently-familiar bit of information, "Vampirism and lycanthropy are more of a purity issue. That's why they are affected by natural and cleansing things like sunlight, fire, and silver."
"Can you clear up a few things for me?" Gavin piped up, leaning in over his crossed legs with a furrow of concentration in his brows, "I've definitely seen the Wardes in photos. And I've seen their reflections too. What's up with that? Is that also a myth?"
"Where'd you see the reflection?"
"In a mirror."
I chuckled, "Do you know what mirrors are made out of?"
"Glass."
I rolled my eyes, "And?"
"Uh - "
"Aluminum," Owen answered, tilting his head, "I worked at a glass-cutter's shop for a short while. We sometimes saw some older mirrors made out of silver too."
I snapped my fingers and pointed to him with a smile, "There you go!"
The lot of them continued to look perplexed.
"Most mirrors nowadays are made out of aluminum which is a metal that doesn't affect vampires. Older mirrors, which had silver, did affect vampires. If you found a silver-mirror and exposed one of the Wardes to it, you wouldn't be able to see their reflection."
"And the photos?"
"Does anyone know anything about the old methods of developing photos?"
Terry brightened, "You needed to soak 'em in silver nitrate."
"Precisely," I nodded once, still feeling a little stiff as all eyes remained trained on me, "So... where should we begin?"
"You tell us a bit about yourself," Owen said, his tone light despite the demand.
"My family has protected humanity for generations. I can't disclose much else to you. It's a risk."
"You know plenty about us already," Morgan growled.
Her dark eyes darted between me and Caleb, though he seemed content to mind his own cooking. Now that I spared him some attention, I realized his closeness: his left arm was nearly brushing mine as he worked. Chewing briefly on my tongue, I pretended not to notice.
"That's carefully cultivated research," I explained, staring Morgan down, "A counter question before I continue; what do you know about vampires?"
"The basics."
"Are you aware of the vampires with extra abilities?"
"Extra abilities," Ray echoed, crossing his arms contemplatively, "We have a story depicting a blood-drinking witch."
"What could she do?"
"She could make a man freeze just by looking him in the eye."
"Hm," I tilted my head back and forth in contemplation, "It may be a variation on intimidation; it's a common ability among abled vampires."
"What is an abled vampire?"
"A rare phenomenon that occurs in approximately one to two percent of all vampires: when they are vampirized, they gain an extra supernatural sense on top of all the others. Their ability. That's why I can't tell you all too much. One of the Wardes is abled in this way: a mind-reader."
This drew a collective, seething intake of breath from everyone gathered, though Ray and Terry - to their credit - remained calm.
"Then they can read your mind?"
"No. I'm protected."
"Why date one?" Morgan spat.
"I'm romantically interested in him."
"Doesn't sound safe to me," Terry grumbled, turning back in his chair so that his face disappeared from my view.
"It's... not," I allowed, gripping my own biceps tightly as I glared at the ceiling.
"You're not worried he'll attack you?" Caleb finally asked, his voice low.
I hummed thoughtfully, a smirk wreathing my lips, "I'd be fine. I'm capable."
Caleb looked up from his work, his full lips now a thin line. The worry shivering in his deep, brown eyes forced me to look away, back to the ceiling again.
"Their kind can't be trusted."
"I used to think that," I sighed, rubbing my forehead, "Until I saw one of them touch a cross. And in one second, everything I'd ever known to be fact was called into question."
I dropped my hand and shook my head, chewing on my lower lip, "I didn't think it was possible for them to live the way they do. Now I've seen it. The fact that they even made a treaty with you is incredible proof.
"Vampires are notoriously prideful and solitary, they rarely form groups larger than pairs. For a species that hardly gets along with each other to agree to cohabit the same area as another species is..."
I breathed out, and the sigh trembled with my confusion.
"Our stories did tell of a more volatile nature," Ray noted, gripping the armrests of his wheelchair tighter, "But there was no mistaking the wrongness about the Wardes, nor the sweet-scent of death that lingers on their skin."
"Sweet..." I echoed, "I've heard it likened to a sharp danger-scent, like cleaner. Sometimes mint."
"We smell what we smell."
"What do you smell on Carmen?"
"The witch?" Owen asked.
I nodded.
"Bitterness, like herbs, but there's an underlying rotten tone."
"Like the rot-smell from the hybrid? Sulfurous?"
"Yes."
"Carmen is interested in you, the lot of you," I repeated, meeting Owen's eyes, "As a witch, she seeks out that which is rare. As a unique variation on the skinchanger species, she's taken great interest in your kind."
"What does she want from us?" Jeremy piped up, alarm bright in his voice.
"I'm not sure yet. Still trying to figure that out."
And suddenly, I felt my shoulders sag with exhaustion. The countertop dug into my lower back as I leaned heavily onto it and let my chin drop a little bit toward my chest.
"It has to deal with Celtic mythos, which more commonly speaks of the Fae. This thing is anything but."
"Scott says you're failing some of your classes," Terry probed and I rolled my eyes.
"Like high school is important in all this. I can just fabricate a transcript if I need it somewhere else."
"If you're trying to keep up appearances - "
"I'm pretending to be a seventeen-year-old," I snapped, nails digging into my arms where I'd re-crossed them, "They can all cut me some slack."
"You're worrying Scott," Caleb said softly, his tenor even, but pleading.
"Scott's a good man. A good father-figure."
"Something you seem to lack. And especially with your mother and brother gone - they only died, what, a yea-"
"Two months ago. Life goes on. The threats against humanity don't die just because good people do."
"Sara-"
But I turned my back on Caleb to address the room. There was an uncomfortable shifting of posture in my audience at the dismissal and, as I began my lecture on the laws of magic, I could hear Caleb's discontent in the inconsistency of his breathing. At any perceived pause, I could hear that breath hitch, as if he wished to speak, but I took shallow, quick breaths to make the gaps short.
As I spoke on witch weaknesses, detailing precisely how to make a witch's funeral pyre, a sharp beep seized and tensed my shoulders.
"Dinner's ready," Caleb announced.
"Why burn the witch?" Aaron wondered.
"Fire has cleansing properties," I said, swallowing on the fear that had leaped into my throat; I hadn't realized how edgy I'd felt, "Witches may have human weaknesses, but that doesn't mean they always die the way you'd expect them to. Fire cleanses away magical residues on the body and prevents them from using any fail-safes. Once you remove those, they die like anybody else."
"No work-talk during dinner," Terry grunted, "And ladies first."
"Those with normal appetites..." I prompted and glanced toward Emma and then the unfamiliar women in-turn.
"Lina Seabrook," the matron said, then jerked her head toward Terry, "That one's wife."
Terry snorted good-naturedly as the three funneled into line.
"I'm Willa," the short-stack blond with Jeremy said.
I nodded to her.
"You're more normal than me," Morgan growled, dark eyes flashing at me.
Raising my hands in surrender, I approached the fajitas and took only one dough bundle. There were triple the amount that may have been necessary for a human group of this size.
With a little dollop of thick avocado-based sauce, I moved aside and stood awkwardly on the far-side of the table.
"Not too hungry today?" Caleb wondered, shuffling around the table to stand beside me and watch the procession.
I shook my head.
"Don't be nervous."
Lips puckered in doubt, I turned my head slightly toward him and raised my eyebrows.
"I'm serious," he shrugged, leaning his forearms on the back of a chair, "We have - "
But his voice died in his throat and I watched his Adam's apple bob uncomfortably, as if choking on words.
"You have a hierarchy system in your group, then," I noted, watching the reaction curiously. His brows furrowed and he wordlessly questioned the assumption with a tilt of his head. "Someone with more authority or control over the others. My bet's on Owen."
"I am lead," Owen allowed, having filled a plate he was resuming his seat beside Emma, "Only I have the power of Edict. What do you-?"
"No work-talk during dinner," Ray repeated Terry's words from earlier.
"Sorry."
Caleb pulled out the chair he'd been leaning on and gently motioned for me to sit. I did as I was told, watching apprehensively as Morgan sat next to her mother on the opposite end. With only the four chairs, a loveseat, and Ray's wheelchair, folks set-up on the floor or ate where they stood. Caleb chose to stand behind me, leaned against the wall. I could see him balancing the plate on his palm in the corner of my eye, taking up a halved fajita into his hand and scooping it along the sauce smeared on the plate. Quickly, I cut mine and mirrored him.
The earthen fruitiness of bell-pepper and savory seasoned chicken filled my mouth. The sauce, sour with lemon and accented with chili flakes, rounded all the textures and flavors together. Before I'd realized it, the flaky, doughy fajita had completely disappeared from my plate.
"Want another?" Caleb asked before I could speak up.
"Yes!"
He laughed once, moving to pick up another and spoon some more sauce onto my plate.
"How old are you all?" I wondered after swallowing another large bite.
"I'm the oldest," Owen said, though I saw Aaron on the edge of speaking out of turn, "Morgan's our youngest."
"Guess I have to give a straight answer to get a straight answer, eh?"
Owen tilted his head, expression stony.
"Fair enough," I muttered, taking another bite, "For what it's worth, the less you know about me, the better. Hunters are largely hated by the supernatural world. Something's probably out there for my blood as we speak."
"We can handle ourselves against vampires."
"If you say so."
Ray threw up his hands in surrender.
"Sorry," Owen and I said in unison this time.
"So, uh, what's your favorite part about being skinchangers?" I tried to pose more conversationally.
Aaron snorted, some of his water going out his nose.
"Nothing good about it," Morgan grumbled.
"No way," Gavin argued, "Being able to fly is fantastic."
"I second that," Jeremy chuckled, putting away half a doughy fajita in just one large bite.
"The speed," Caleb and Aaron said in unison.
"Can the larger ones move quickly?" I wondered, glancing at Liam, who scowled.
"Not like Aaron and I can, but still quick enough to catch a vampire," Caleb supplemented.
"It's a good balance you have," I contemplated, "Fliers to lookout, quick ones to distract, and the muscle to deal a decisive blow. So, animals by night - what are you all by day?"
"Mechanic, mainly," Caleb started, then jerked his chin at Morgan.
"Part-time waitress, part-time student."
"I'm a programmer," the little wisp of a girl, Willa, piped excitedly at her turn. Jeremy smiled down at her as if she were his personal sun.
"Lab tech at our clinic," Jeremy said, emphasizing the one in the village most likely.
"Cop," Liam shrugged.
"Civil Engineer," Owen said, "Working on coastal roads."
"Physical therapist," Emma supplied with a small smile, "I sell pottery online too."
"We're both students," Aaron said for himself and Gavin, "Like Morgan, though I'm going for management and Gavin for law enforcement."
"Professional hunter of supernatural creatures," I finished the circle.
"That... can't be too lucrative," Emma probed.
"Different family members have different roles," I said carefully, "Some of us hunt, others of us are support."
"Must be boring to be the support," Liam grimaced and I saw Emma's posture deflate.
Owen chucked a bell-pepper slice at his subordinate on her behalf.
"We switch out every now and again so everyone gets a chance at everything. Support is hardly a waste of time. I learned field medicine with mine. Now, if I come upon someone in distress from a vampire attack, for instance, I'm qualified to start life-saving measures."
"You seem very mature," Ray said slowly, yet I could sense a 'but' unspoken in the sentence.
Morgan wasn't shy about finishing it, "If it weren't for the fact that you're dating a vampire, I might actually trust your judgment."
"You really ought to rethink that," Aaron seconded, eyes flickering between me and Caleb.
"I'm not a child-"
"Compared to that bloodsucker you are," Caleb muttered darkly and I flinched.
"All we're trying to say is that you have better options," Gavin shrugged.
"Mason is fine with a little competition," I said sharply, rolling my eyes and taking a last moody bite of my fajita.
"What?"
"Nothing, never mind."
I crossed my arms and glared at the table, resolute. From the corner of my eye, I could see Caleb leaning over slightly to inspect my reddened expression and a strand of loose hair fell across his parted lips.
"Don't make me explain supernatural mating systems to you all," I grumbled, cocking one foot up to rest my heel on the under-beams of the chair.
I bounced my knee anxiously.
"Could you?"
There was an unexpected curiosity and insecurity in Morgan's voice at the ask. I startled, but nodded, launching into the explanation I'd given to Mason. To their credit, every individual was just as rapt for this explanation as they were about the magic. It made me wonder what their stories did or didn't cover.
Oral histories were a true art-form, but more subject to change than written ones. Not to mention that those who knew them best could die before they were told to the next generation.
"Is there a bonded out there for everyone?" Morgan asked as soon as I finished, her black eyes now a desperate, liquid-onyx.
"Multiple, but like I said, once you've chosen... that's your one. And if the person you do come across isn't receptive, there will always be another. You can move on."
"That's harder for us though, isn't it," Caleb murmured.
"We have a story about it, but yes," Ray prompted.
I glanced back at Caleb where he leaned against the wall, arms tightly crossed.
"Yes, but not impossible," I seconded.
He hummed a low tone, eyes searching deeply into mine. Stomach shivering, I had to be the one to look away.
"So..." Morgan started, then hesitated nervously, "But, well, we're kind of... well-"
She glanced at Owen; he nodded.
"We're immortal," she finished anxiously and I purposefully widened my eyes in surprise, "Until we stop transforming. So, since I've had my first transformation... my period's stopped. Does that mean I'm not... that I can't - "
"What animal are you?"
"Coyote."
"How long have you been a shapeshifter?"
"Almost a year now," she whispered despondently.
Some of the others around the room shifted uncomfortably. Liam even let out an aggravated sigh. I narrowed my eyes at him but he merely wrinkled his nose at me.
"From what I know, you'd mimic a coyote's estrus cycle. They only have a breeding season once a year in the late winter or so. Have you noticed anything like that?"
She blinked, her brow furrowing, "I... maybe?"
"Do a bit of digging into the species you shift into," I suggested gently, "Can't hurt to know more. If you're vigilant and still don't experience anything, I wouldn't say that's a cause for worry either.
"Immortal creatures with reproductive capacity sometimes only become fertile after they've taken a mate. So it's possible that you wouldn't even experience signs of fertility until then. Worst-case scenario, you should be able to regain your regular menstrual cycle once you stop transforming."
Visible relief washed over Morgan's features and I saw her shoulders relax from where I thought they permanently resided beside her ears.
"Thank god," Liam scoffed and Morgan became taught again, "I was worried we'd have to deal with that internal monologue forever."
"Don't be such a guy," I chided, but tilted my head curiously, "What internal monologue?"
"Our minds join in the spiritual plane when we enter our animal forms," Owen said simply.
I let out a low whistle, "The more I learn about you all, the more I think your ancestors might've been intentional in creating you."
"What would that mean?"
"They meant for you all to be protectors. Telepathy, healing, forms that can combat vampires - and likely other supernatural threats - these are all traits that make for a very coordinated group of supernatural hunters."
A few of the younger members perked up and looked to each other with grins on their faces.
"Maybe you don't have to go about your hunting alone," Caleb offered, voice low.
"We can learn a lot from each other," Ray said with a slow nod, "Setting aside your... dealings with the vampires, it'd be in our best interest to share histories with one another."
"What I can say about my personal history is limited on account of the mind-reader," I reminded him with an anxious purse of my lips, "But we can discuss occult creatures, protective measures, and methods by which to end threats.
"My family's knowledge has never just been for us, but the further humanity progresses into this age of technology, the further people turn from superstition and reasonable instinct. It's become harder to keep humans aware of the danger. To protect them."
"Says the woman making out with a vampire," Jeremy laughed and, despite myself, I allowed a begrudging smile.
Caleb loosed a low, but audible growl.
"Now then, it's about time we discuss the hybrid..."