He who seeks realizes that it has been stolen.
In the morning, I woke to an unbearable weight on my chest. For a fleeting moment, I thought it might be the weight of my sins catching up with me. Then reality set in—I didn't even have a conscience. My eyes snapped open, and there it was: the purring menace, the demon cat.
Naturally, my first instinct was to sit up in surprise. The cat, startled, dug its claws into my chest as it scrambled for balance. I was on the verge of punting the pest when Alex chose that exact moment to wake up. The sight of him entering was enough to send the cat into a full-blown panic. It darted under my duvet, seeking refuge from the world—or more likely, from him.
"Why the bloody hell is this furball still around?" I demanded, glaring at Alex.
He ignored me, crouching down to coax the 'kitty' out of its hiding place. His reward? A set of claws embedded in his wrists. The cat's retaliation was swift, and Alex's scream could have shattered glass. I most certainly suffered some hearing loss, but his expression was priceless. I laughed; he cursed my ancestors.
"It hates you," I observed gleefully, watching the cat hiss every time Alex moved. "What did you do to it?"
Alex scowled, rubbing his injured wrist.
"It doesn't seem to like werewolves," he muttered.
"Well, it should've considered that before letting itself be dragged here," I shot back. Alex mumbled something about the poor thing being in shock.
Horseshit.
We didn't talk much after that. I reiterated that the furball couldn't stay, and Alex sulked. I wasn't very moved by it.
Anyway, Wednesday was a nightmare—a grueling nine-lesson day at school. I made the best of it by sleeping through most of the classes. When the final bell rang, I caught up with Alex.
"I'd like to know why you've been so sullen lately," I said, though my tone bordered on a demand.
Alex flinched, just slightly. No one else would have noticed, but I did.
"Don't tell me it's just the cat, because I won't believe it," I added quietly.
"The full moon is approaching," he admitted.
I didn't press him further, just walked past him. I wasn't sure what made this full moon different from the rest, but I sensed it would be significant.
Werewolves are closely tied to the moon, but not much more so than any other monster. The idea that they only transform during the full moon is a myth; they can change at will. However, they do tend to shift more frequently around that time.
Some wolves eat people, others don't. Alex belongs to the second group. It's also true that shapeshifters cause the fewest problems in the monster society. Compared to vampires and the fae, they're practically innocent lambs.
I scanned the crowd in front of the buffet, searching for the perfect victim.
"Hello," I greeted warmly, my eyes landing on a short, red-haired guy patiently waiting in line.
"Hi," he responded, looking up at me curiously.
"I left my wallet at home and can't buy anything. Sorry for the sudden request, but... could you treat me to something?" I asked with a kind smile, locking my gaze with his.
"Erm, but... sure," he hesitated, glancing into his wallet. "What do you want to eat?"
"Two slices of pizza, if that's okay," I replied, keeping my smile steady.
He nodded, swallowing hard as his turn approached. After listing his own order, he handed me two slices on a napkin while clutching his pizza roll.
"Thank you so much," I said gratefully. "Remind me tomorrow, so I can pay you back, okay?"
"Oh, don't worry about it," he waved off my offer. "It's not that important."
"Thanks," I said, barely suppressing the devilish grin threatening to break through my 'lovely' smile.
Waving goodbye, I left my unsuspecting benefactor behind. Alex joined me as we headed toward the stairs. He shook his head disapprovingly.
"You shouldn't take advantage of humans like that."
"What are you talking about?" I asked, feigning innocence. "He said I don't have to pay for the pizza."
Alex shook his head again, knowing full well I hadn't played fair. He couldn't quite grasp how my most useful ability worked, but he knew enough to be wary. Honestly, I wasn't entirely sure how it worked either—it was instinctive, like people just did what I wanted them to do. It wasn't just humans; monsters were affected too, though not to the same degree.
Alex, however, was perhaps the only one I'd never use it on. He'd most definitely take my head off in his wolf form if I did.
For the last two lessons, Alex did his best to keep me awake, presumably because it was biology class with group work, which meant shared grades. I, on the other hand, couldn't care less—I just wanted to sleep. I had work until dawn and deserved a nap.
(...)
Alex bustled around as I sat at the kitchen table lazily reading the latest articles on Kaleidoscope. The hunters' app had a brief mention of the recent disappearances in the city, offering only a few lines of cryptic information. As I skimmed, the wolf slid a mug of cocoa in front of me, then sat across from me. For a while, he just observed, quietly sipping his sweet drink.
"Things can't go on like this," he finally said, breaking the silence.
I raised an eyebrow, looking up at him.
"You know exactly what I'm talking about," he pressed. "The wild vampires. More and more dead humans and second generations popping up."
"You've done your homework," I remarked dryly, not really interested.
"It would've been faster if you helped," he grumbled, looking a little offended. "You're the best informant in town. You should've known about this."
"The third," I corrected, glancing back at the app.
"What?" he blinked.
"I'm only the third best," I clarified.
"It doesn't matter," he waved me off. "Can't you do something?"
"Why me?" I asked, flipping to the next page with disinterest.
"Because you have connections," he explained, leaning forward. "You could tell Crimson about it, or—"
"He knows," I interrupted, cutting him off. The wolf froze, his mouth still open to speak. I took a slow sip of my cocoa before continuing, "Crimson knows about everything. But things are more complicated than they seem."
"You're not going to tell me why?" His tone wasn't so much a question anymore, but a resigned statement.
I sighed, setting my mug down.
"A new king is rising," I said, surprising him more with the implications than the content of my answer. "The vampires are his scouts. They don't know what to do with him yet, but once they figure it out, the problem will be solved."
Alex was silent, his mind clearly racing over what I'd just said. I finished off my cocoa and got up to place the mug in the sink.
"Oh, and Alex," I added as I turned to leave. He glanced up. "Don't get more involved."
Without waiting for a reply, I walked out of the kitchen and headed off to work.
(...)
"Driver?"
"No."
"Loader?"
"No."
"Bank robber?"
The Weasel grinned, his expression both amused and defensive. "No! Do I seriously look like one?"
He paused for a moment, then quickly flashed an innocent look before his buddies erupted in laughter. I couldn't help but think that the Weasel would have no problem with far worse things than robbing a bank. He always had his fingers in some unsavory pie.
After our cultured exchange of words yesterday, he'd gone back to pretending he wasn't interested in me. He only spoke when he had to, typically to place an order. I found it to be an oddly refreshing change.
That night's shift was very special. Alistair returned after a long time.
I think he'd known me since I was born, even though I was only about three when I first saw him. He'd always been there, lurking in the background, watching. And I knew it—he knew that I knew. At first, I wondered if he might be my father. It was a comforting thought, but I couldn't be sure, not when he always wore that dark hood. But then, one day, he was done with watching. He came to me.
"Hey, old man,"
I greeted him with a grin, sliding a glass of golden liquid across the counter.
Alistair flashed his usual sharp smile, his white teeth gleaming, and took a sip of his wine. As always, he wore a sharp suit, his light blonde hair parted neatly in the middle, barely brushing his shoulders. His grey eyes were as unreadable as ever—nothing about him had changed. He still had that timeless air of someone who existed far beyond my comprehension.
It's very rare to see lone fae, as there is usually a stronger bond between these individuals than between human family members—but you don't see a kind fae like Alistair either. The folks of the moon together form a whole. I had long suspected that something had gone wrong for him to be cast out from his people. I'd guessed what that sin was long ago.
"You've grown a lot since I last saw you, kid," he remarked, his voice as deep and rich as ever.
"Yeah," I said, my grin widening. "What's up?"
"I came for a special reason," he said, and instantly, a chill ran down my spine. I didn't want to know, but he was already pulling me in.
"Special reason?" I asked, though I had a sinking feeling I knew where this was headed.
He nodded slowly, taking another sip of his drink. "I think you've heard about the missing amulet..."
"Yeah," I said, keeping my tone neutral.
"That amulet was mine."
I could say I was surprised, but that would be a lie.
"Oh," I said casually, "So, it was yours, and you want it back?"
He shook his head, his expression darkening. "I want to destroy it."
The words hit me like a cold gust of wind. "Why?"
He sighed deeply, his grey eyes glinting with a mixture of regret and weariness. "I don't have much time left, Shay. That's no secret. I made a huge mistake, and I've been repenting for it ever since. I can't undo the past, but at least I can prevent the worst. I have to destroy the amulet. It can't go back to its current owner."
There was a bitter smile on my lips. He didn't have to say it for me to understand. The half-blood monster was his son. Amulets like that were hereditary—only a blood relative could wield or destroy their power. This was one of the first things Alistair had taught me a long ago. The sin that makes Al unable to return to his people to this day is that he desecrated the ancient bloodline—he slept with a non-fae and impregnated her.
I didn't know the woman, but I didn't need to. Alistair must've loved her if he had undertaken this for her. I didn't even know if he ever regretted this decision. But I'm sure he loved his son —after all, he had given him the amulet, a symbol of unimaginable power, one that was worth more than his life. But something had changed, something tragic. I wanted to ask what happened, what went wrong, but the words got stuck in my throat.
"How much?" I asked instead, my voice softer than I intended. How much time did he have left?
"Not much," he replied, his gaze distant, as though he could already feel the clock running out on him.
So, you really won't tell me? Days? Weeks? Certainly no more than months, right?
"What do you want me to do?" I asked, though I already knew the answer.
His eyes met mine. "I know it's too much to ask, but I need you to help me find the amulet."
His voice was strained, a mixture of torment and exhaustion.
I nodded. For some reason, I just couldn't refuse him, but I was afraid if I spoke, my voice would tremble. I didn't want to get into all this, yet as I looked at him, I automatically agreed to help.
"Thank you, Shay," he said, his tone soft but genuine, as he drained the rest of his wine.
I should've said something, but the words caught in my throat. never thank anyone. They take what they want, they don't ask for anything.
I bit my lip. I didn't even know what I really wanted to say.
"Alistair?" I heard my boss's unmistakable voice, and I instantly tensed.
The fae looked up at her and gave a small nod of acknowledgment, a polite greeting.
"I'm glad to see you again," she said with a smile, but it quickly twisted into a snarl when she turned her gaze on me. "You slacker, what do you think I'm paying you for?!"
Before I could even process it, she was grabbing my ear and pulling me out of my seat, ignoring my protests. Alistair just watched, his smile never faltering, as Hajnal's eyes flashed lightnings, her curses raining down on me.
"All right, I'm leaving!" I grumbled, storming down the stairs, weaving through the tables, and retreating behind the counter. I sulked for a while, still fuming over the way Hajnal treated me. Hajnal wasn't just a regular seer; she was the kind of harpy version that made my skin crawl.
Of course, it didn't take long for one of the guests to seize the opportunity, shouting for another beer. Despite my annoyance, I started pouring, my mind still preoccupied with my boss's nerve-wracking presence.
Hajnal settled back down at the table with a sigh.
"When do you want to tell him, Alistair?" she asked quietly.
The fae looked at her, unbothered, his calm demeanor unwavering. "He doesn't need to know."
"You may run out of time," Hajnal warned, her voice dipping into something ominous. "You have two months, no more."
Alistair didn't seem surprised. He simply nodded as though nothing new had been revealed.
"He will become a great man, even if you're no longer with him," Hajnal said softly, her words tinged with something like resignation.
"Undoubtedly," Alistair replied, a small smile playing at his lips. "But I would like you to watch over him for a while after I perish."
Hajnal shrugged, her tone indifferent. "It's only natural. I'm watching over my employees."
Alistair stood, bowing slightly. "If you don't mind..."
"Go," she waved him off, clearly uninterested in lingering. "You never stay for too long."
"Farewell," Alistair murmured, and in the blink of an eye, he was gone.
Hajnal sighed deeply, standing up with a slow, deliberate movement. The chair creaked as she pushed it back, her steps quiet as she descended the stairs. She vanished behind the office door just as I returned from serving a table.
Alistair was already gone, leaving without so much as a word to me. This wasn't unusual; he never did. Maybe because he always stayed nearby, lingering as though he never truly left. Even though I couldn't see him, I could always feel his presence.
I clenched the glass in my hand a little too tightly, the faintest crack appearing in its surface. My lips tightened into a hard line. 'Farewell,' Alistair had said. It almost sounded like he was saying goodbye forever.
I sighed, took out another glass mug, and filled it with beer, my thoughts swirling as I went back to my work.
(...)
When I walked through the door, I found Alex still awake — a clear sign that something was about to happen, and it was definitely something I wanted to avoid.
"How was work?" he asked, skipping any sort of greeting.
"The usual," I shrugged, tossing my coat aside and turning toward the figure leaning against the doorjamb.
Alex didn't know about Alistair. He didn't know about the hunters either. I'd kept it all from him, and I intended to keep it that way. He didn't need to know.
"We need to talk," he said, confirming my suspicions that something was very wrong.
"Yes?" I replied, trying to stall as I kicked off my shoes.
"You know I've never asked you about your past..." His words sent a wave of unease through me. "But things have changed."
My stomach contracted, knotting tightly. His words hung in the air, heavy with the unspoken. I knew that this was going somewhere I didn't want it to.
"Why is it suddenly so important?" I asked, hoping to buy myself more time.
"I've been continuing my investigation into the vampires causing trouble in the city," he said quietly.
I wasn't surprised, but he didn't want to surprise me with this information either. He was aware of the fact that I knew him like the back of my hand.
"And what did you find?" I asked, turning to head for the kitchen, trying to appear casual.
"Not much... but enough," he followed me into the kitchen. "The vampires are looking for someone. I don't know why, but it's rumored that this person stole something from them. And they're not the only ones after the thief."
"Really?" I asked, feigning indifference, as I opened the fridge and began scanning its contents.
After a few seconds, I pulled out a marjoram-flavored liver paste and set it on the counter. Alex slid into a chair at the table as I grabbed a stale slice of bread, cutting it in half and tossing it into the toaster. The bread had been sitting around for more than a week and had gone tasteless and hard, but toasting it seemed to fix that.
I leaned against the counter, glancing over at Alex.
"Yes. Hunters, some of the noble vampires, and even mages are after the pickpocket," he said, ticking them off on his fingers. Then he paused, fixing me with a piercing gaze. "Not to mention a lone fae."
"It must be something important," I nodded, keeping my tone neutral.
It never even crossed my mind to share what I knew with him.
"A lone fae... Unusual, right?" He was watching me closely, trying to read my reaction, but he knew he wouldn't get much from me.
"Yeah, it's rare," I agreed.
"Shay, you know this fae," he said, his voice certain, as though he were stating a simple fact.
I didn't ask how he knew. The look in his eyes told me everything I needed to know — he'd figured it out himself.
"What if I do?" I raised an eyebrow, keeping my voice casual.
"So, it's true."
"Why would I deny the truth?" I folded my arms across my chest, giving him a pointed look. "Is that all you wanted to know?"
No, I was sure it wasn't. I could feel the tension building.
"Who's this fae? Where do you know him from? And what does he want from you?" He fired off the questions in rapid succession.
"Alex," I said, my voice soft but firm, "you know there's no one I trust more than you." I sighed deeply, knowing what I had to say next would only make things worse. "But I'm not going to tell you — or anyone else — about my past. You need to accept that."
The toaster clicked, and I turned to grab the toast. As I placed it on a plate, I spread the liver paste across it, each motion deliberate to give myself a moment to gather my thoughts.
"I see," he murmured, his voice rough with frustration that he couldn't quite mask.
I wanted to apologize, but I didn't. The truth was, I couldn't tell him everything. And even if I could, I wasn't ready to.
We didn't say anything more. I finished preparing the food and sat down at the table to eat, while Alex went to take a shower.
By the time I was done eating, he was already in bed. He pretended to be asleep, but I knew he wasn't. Still, I followed suit and slipped under the duvet. I spent the next hour tossing and turning, unable to quiet my thoughts enough to fall asleep.