But then, not much bothered them, night or day. The young witch was a neutral party and they’d yet to be threatened with fangs or fire.
When they reached the ring of stones, they walked right into the middle, carefully side-stepping the smoldering embers and the black, corrosive puddle of doubly-dead Cruce. Still softly humming, they went up to the nearest stone and lay a few carefully-chosen flowers at its base. The young witch gave the dark crystal spike a respectful nod, and then moved onto the next. They continued around the inside, placing flowers at every stone, until they’d made a complete circle.
Flowers distributed, they stood in the center of the ring and held absolutely still, even holding their breath, until they heard it. Whispering. Just under the soft, cool breeze, under the beat of Milo’s heart. It always seemed to grow a little louder after their flowery visits.
“You’re welcome,” Milo said quietly, smiling. “I missed you too.”
Then, they realized, they were not alone. Milo hadn’t actually followed anyone; they simply knew they’d find the ones they searched for here, the way they knew there was no place like this circle in the world. Two girls, both gray-skinned with catlike eyes, stood at the edge of the stones, staring at Cruce’s remains.
“I think we knew the way because he knew,” Milo heard the taller girl say faintly. “Or maybe just because he died here.”
“Yeah,” the other one breathed out, sounding awed. “Just… wow. There he is.”
They stood there together for a while, staring at the corroded puddle of dead-vampire muck, all that was left of Cruce. Then both of them stood straight up as if they’d been poked with pins. Their focus on Cruce’s corpse had distracted them at first, but now they’d both sensed the stranger’s presence before a word had been spoken, but a moment later, that word came.
“Hi,” Milo said, giving an awkward little wave, which turned into a raised hand as they both started and jumped backwards, eyes flashing and clearly about to run, or fly away, as quickly as possible. “Wait, stop! Nails, Maestra—I’m a friend!”
At the sound of their names, both vampire girls froze. They exchanged a quick glance, and as they looked at each other, the lights in their eyes faded along with their startled snarls. They turned tentatively back to Milo, though both were still prepared to fly at the first sign of danger, every muscle tensed and clawed hands at the ready.
“Who are you?” Maestra demanded, voice slightly distorted, warped far beyond what a teenage girl’s should sound like. She’d stepped a bit between Milo and Nails and leveled the stranger with a gaze that was not so much predatory but promising; make a wrong move, and there could only be one outcome.
“My name’s Milo,” they said, speaking quickly and spreading both empty hands. A witch was never quite unarmed, but it did seem to calm the vampire girls a bit. “I guess you might say I’m a friend of a friend. Letizia sent me here to make sure you were doing all right, after… what happened.”
“Really?” Maestra blinked in clear surprise. “Wait—why’d she tell you to come here? She told us not to come here.”
Nails let out a snorting laugh. “That’s totally how she knew we would! Oh my God, she played us!”
“I guess she did,” Maestra grumbled, but kept looking curiously at Milo. “So what are you, another witch?”
“Yes,” Milo said with an unbothered, friendly nod. “I know her, and I knew of Cruce, and that until recently you were under his… employ. Your secret’s safe, and I’d like to help you get your bearings if I can.”
Nails squinted at Milo’s face, taking in their delicate features and smooth angles under the black eyeliner and purple shadow. “You look really familiar. Like, really. Do we know you?”
“Not personally, but I’ve seen you around the mall,” Milo said, though they hesitated for a moment. “Aside from that, I am a friend of Letizia’s—maybe that’s why you recognize me?”
“Yeah. Maybe,” Maestra said, but didn’t look quite certain. “It’s hard to say. It’s hard to tell much of anything right now.”
“It’s got to be disorienting, suddenly having a whole world to explore, and a whole life to live. Like getting to know yourself for the first time.” Milo gave them a little smile. “I know something about that.”
“Yeah, it’s been wild,” Nails said, trying to smile back, but just looking uncharacteristically nervous. “Everything’s weird and the whole world feels different, like clearer and fuzzier at the same time.”
“It feels like when we first changed,” Maestra added, eyes widening in realization. “How the whole world was different overnight. We woke up different people. It feels like we’re different people now.”
“Getting away from an abuser will do that,” Milo said. “Your lives were defined by Cruce for over a century. Remembering who you really are is never easy after something like that.”
“Yeah,” Nails sighed. “Like impossible. Everything after we got turned feels like a weird dream, and I don’t really remember being human at all.”
“That’s understandable,” Milo sighed. “And you’re not missing much. Being a human isn’t very fun, most days.”
“Some things do kind of… make noise in my head, though, even if I don’t know why. Like you.”
“And these.” Maestra pointed at one of the few “missing” posters that hadn’t been ripped down or scratched out—not one of Pixie, but a lanky, grungy-looking boy with unruly hair. “This guy here? He looks kind of familiar, but I don’t know his name or anything, or where I’ve seen him before. It’s like the images are still here, but the labels are gone.”
“That sounds scary,” Milo said with a slight hesitation as their eyes paused on the poster, but then gave a sympathetic nod that encouraged both of them to continue.
“Yeah, but it’s been more like… lonely, I guess?” Nails said, serious as the other two by now. “Maybe just because we’ve been alive so long, but I don’t think that’s it. Time gets... weird. Like it passes really fast and slow at the same time. Years and weeks kind of start to feel the same, and nothing really changes with you, even if the rest of the world does. You can’t talk to many people or they’ll be scared of you or—or bad stuff might happen. Even if it’s up to you, which sometimes... it’s not up to you.”
“It is now,” Maestra said quietly.
“Yeah it is.” Nails gave her a smile, encouraged. “But see, it’s hard to explain. Like the time thing—some things you just have to live yourself before you get it.”
Milo smiled. “I think I know what you mean. So what brings you here in particular? Do you remember something about it?”
“Not really, it’s more like we felt kind of pulled here,” Nails said, eyes lingering on the decaying clothes in the middle. “This is where it happened. Where Cruce died. But even besides that, this place feels... important.”
“It is,” Milo said. “It’s one of my favorite places in the city. I come here to get away from—well, this place is just special, that’s all. Can you feel that? It’s like the air is electric. It even feels good to breathe. Usually does. It’s felt kind of... off, lately.”
“Well, we don’t really breathe, but that’s what that tingly feeling is?” Nails stretched out her arms and moved them through the space. As she did, the hairs on them stood up like they hadn’t since she was alive. “Magic?”
“Mm-hmm,” Milo said with a nod. “It’s thick here, like... fog, almost. I bet that’s what it would look like if you could see it. I can’t, obviously. Can you?”
“Huh?” Maestra gave them a confused look.
“Vampire eyes are supposed to be different. You can probably see things even witches can’t. Like this?”
They held out both hands, clapping them and rubbing them together. When Milo pulled their hands apart, silvery strands clung to each finger, forming a glittering cat’s-cradle. Rainbows danced along each string as Milo twirled and looped them around their fingers in a continuous and hypnotic motion, quicksilver
light transforming and blooming into more shining color.
“I’d wear that,” Maestra said wistfully. “A whole dress made of that. You can’t see it?”
“No,” Milo shook their head, but smiled. “But I know it’s there. It feels warm in my hands, a little bit like silk, or running water that... see, that doesn’t really begin to say what it actually feels like, there aren’t really words for it. I just know it’s there.”
“It’s like I can tell you’re a witch without looking,” Nails said, giving a sniff in Milo’s direction. “You smell the same way the circle does.”
“So I smell like magic,” Milo concluded with a contemplative head-tilt. “I guess that’s a compliment. And I’ve known vampires before. They were always... friends of the family, I guess you’d say. Some of them closer than my blood family, who never really…” they trailed off, then shook their head. “But that was a long time ago, and I have a new family. Like Letizia. She taught me almost everything I know about being a witch, like how to read cards—oh!”
They brightened, looking excited instead of sympathetic-but-guarded, and suddenly much younger.
“I have an idea,” Milo said. “Whenever I’m feeling lost, I turn to my tarot deck, or a friend’s. Reading for myself is hard, but I love doing it for others. Letizia’s the master, of course, but I can do my best, if that’s something you’d like? Very simple, three cards: past, present, and future.”
“Sure,” Maestra said, this time not needing to confer with Nails even with a glance; she was already nodding. “I’d love to see what the cards think about… all this.”
Milo stepped away from the center and nodded for them to follow. Just outside the stone circle was a smooth, flat stone that made a good table. Milo knelt down beside it, a deck of cards in their hand that neither girl had seen before. It was greatly reminiscent of Letizia’s habit of pulling items out of thin air, though unlike her, Milo didn’t accompany the gesture with a satisfied flourish.
“Do you have a significator?” they asked, cutting their deck and beginning to shuffle. Where Letizia’s was the classic Rider-Waite deck, the backs of Milo’s cards had an elegant silver and pastel blue design, the colors soft and painterly instead of starkly vivid.
“A what?” Maestra asked, catlike eyes following the motion of their hands as the both of them sat down across from Milo.
“A card that means you,” Milo said. “Something that fits with your personality. I can use that to start. Sometimes it makes for a more personal reading.”
“Oh. I don’t have that,” she said, and glanced at Nails, who shook her head as well, looking a little troubled, as if they were getting in over their heads. “Do we need to pick them out? I don’t know anything about any of this.”
“Don’t worry,” Milo said gently. “It’s not a problem at all. We can find out together…” They pulled one card and held it up, showing its face to both girls without looking at it themself. “The past, behind you is… The Moon, reversed?”
“Yeah,” Nails confirmed, looking impressed now. “How’d you know?”
“It’s my deck,” Milo said with a smile and little shrug. “We’re very well-acquainted. So that’s the one we’ll start with. The Moon can be neutral, referring to a pattern of events or behaviors—a cycle. Repeating history. Reversed, and that history is a less-than-happy one. It means being stuck in a rut that isn’t good for anyone involved. Less a tradition, and more a trap.”
“Sounds about right,” Nails grumbled, nodding with a rueful frown. “Like a hundred and fifty years of being trapped.”
“So the present, beneath you…” Milo reached for another card, eyes looking faraway and a bit out of focus, but movements sure. Again, when Milo pulled it, they did not look at the face, instead showing it to the pair sitting opposite. “Nine of Swords, reversed?”
Again, a pair of confirming nods.
“This one can mean internal struggles, turmoil… taking on too much and internalizing it. Enduring a secret pain that nobody else sees. Feeling imprisoned, helpless, with no end in sight.”
“More truth,” Maestra said, looking disappointed. “This is kind of a depressing spread, huh?”
Milo tilted their head, owlishly peering at the card and all its blades. “You can read it that way. But this is one of my favorite cards, especially reversed.”
“Really?” Nails asked, tilting her own head to look at the card, as if she might see what Milo did in its depths.
“Yes. It’s special to me. ‘Reversed’ doesn’t always mean bad—and here I think it means that there is an end in sight. In fact, it’s already happened.” They smiled a little. “You’ve already broken free. Cut away the ties binding you to something weighing you down. Sometimes you have to cut off an old life to live the one you were always meant to. Something I know a lot about. It’s not a bad card at all.”
“So what comes next?” Nails asked eagerly. “Now that we’re cut free?”
“The future, before you is…” They pulled one last card, showing them the picture of three dancing figures holding chalices overflowing with water; the image’s curves were gentle and the gem-tone colors harmonious. “Three of Cups.”
“It’s pretty,” Maestra said, just as Nails said, “hey, this one’s right-side-up!”
“Yes it is,” Milo said, and looked relieved. “And this one means friendship, happiness shared, emotional healing and relief. Blessings overflowing, specifically enjoyed with friends.”
“Finally,” Nails sighed. “It’s about time. We could really, really use some fun times and friends—we got a lot to make up for.”
“Easier said than done,” Maestra said a little darkly, eyeing the card’s carefree dance and bright colors as if finding them difficult to trust. “I’m glad you-know-who’s gone, but… well, it’s gonna take a while.”
“I’m sure,” Milo said with a sympathetic look at them, then back down at the card they laid beside the other two. “But ending with the Three of Cups is an encouraging sign. The first two were hard, it’s been a difficult ordeal, but that’s one of the happiest endings I can think of. Even if you can’t see exactly how you’ll get there.”
Milo fell silent, staring at the three cards, and for a moment, didn’t move. Then they gave a shiver, as if a chilly wind had swept through the clearing, though none had.
“And that’s all I can tell. Sorry I can’t give you more—like I said, this place hasn’t felt right in a while.” They looked around a bit anxiously, like the stones might somehow come to life and advance on them. “You two should probably steer clear of it for a few days at least, too.”
“Why?” Nails asked at once. “I thought our spread had a good ending. The Three of Cups is good, right?”
“It is—but I have a feeling that this circle’s destiny is bigger than one card, or you, or me, or any of us,” Milo said, still looking uneasy. “Something… very important is coming. I can feel it. And none of us should be around when it comes.”
Both girls looked at each other, then back at Milo. “What do you think is going to happen?” Maestra asked, very seriously.
“I don’t know, exactly—and when I don’t know, when something could go in any direction at all, I tend to be very careful in moving forward.”
“Well, we’ve been doing pretty good so far,” Nails said with a jerk of her head back toward Cruce’s remains. “That’s one monster down. Maybe we should keep a good thing going.”
“No,” Milo said, soft voice coming out a bit sharp. “No, you definitely shouldn’t. This circle is a powerful place, but soon, I don’t think it’s going to be a good one. I’m just telling you what Letizia told me, and she’s usually not wrong about these things—take it up with her if you have more questions, but I don’t think she’ll give many answers. I couldn’t get much more out of her myself.”
They stood up then, looking up at the sky as if expecting rain, very reasonable in this time and place, but their worried expression suggested they wer
e actually expecting something more ominous.
“Now I think we should get going. You’re welcome to come with me, I’m happy to be a sounding board while you sort out your feelings, or we can do something else—do you like movies? You’ve probably missed a lot of great pop culture moments. I’m mostly a rom-com and Disney kind of enby, but I’m up for anything!”
Nails and Maestra exchanged one of their pointed looks that contained an entire conversation in under two seconds, even without the semi-telepathic bond they still shared and always would.
“That sounds great,” Nails said out loud as they both turned back to their new friend, who gave them a sunny smile. “I’ve always wanted to see an actual movie all the way through! Do you have anything about vampires?”
“But maybe funny vampires,” Maestra said with a little wince in the direction of Cruce’s remains. “I’ve kind of had enough serious and scary for a while.”
“I think I know just the thing,” Milo said as the three of them headed away from the circle and back to the trail leading to the human side of the world. “Do you know What We Do In The Shadows?”
“No, what do we do?” Nails asked, and Milo giggled.
“You’re about to find out.”
It was the morning before the night of the ritual, and Jude was about to crawl out of his skin.
He and Pixie hadn’t talked, about what had happened or what was about to happen, and the sad, desperate moment in the motel played over and over in Jude’s head, how blank and dead Pixie's usually more-alive-than-life eyes had been, the horror on his face when he realized what he’d done—Jude wanted to escape his own thoughts. But he couldn’t leave his brain behind, so instead he left the apartment, feet carrying him to a door just down the hall before he quite told them to.
The door opened just a few short moments after Jude’s first knock, taking him a bit by surprise. It usually took Jasper at least ten seconds to answer, maybe because he was in the back of his apartment with Felix, maybe just the fatigue Jude knew he was working through almost constantly.
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