Fairies. You don't want to mess with fairies, Dad always said. I heeded that advice... until now.

My team travelled across the state to follow a lead that came in from djamphire in Putnam County, more precisely Castle Rock. The information we received indicated that a swarm had attacked without warning. When we arrived, we unloaded and set up camp in the dense brush of the forest about two hundred yards from the caves the fairies were thought to be living.

"I thought fairies were harmless. So why'd they attack?" Shanks looked to Augustine for a response.

"Typically they are, unless provoked… or willed to by something." August was cool about the whole situation and tried not to make our mission sound daunting. His explanation was vague but we had no time to get into it. This was our first assignment outside the schola since the nightclub incident where I bolted through the subway chased by a sucker. I took his head off with malaika but it was a close one. Christophe was pretty pissed that I didn't follow the plan and the Council was even more upset for risking my life unnecessarily.

This time was different though. I assembled the team and we had a no fail backup plan. August was my onsite advisor since he'd hunted fairies before. "Dru girl, how many steps from the caves to the camp?" He was like my dad in a lot of ways, harsh but always caring.

"54." I studied and memorized the plan well.

"Good girl. Reynard and I will be hangin' back at camp but you're only 54 steps or 23 seconds to getting reinforcements."

"See you on the flip side, Augie. Hey, thanks again." I gave him a look of genuine appreciation. August always came through when I needed him.

I turned to the crew. "Okay guys, let's get moving. We've got to get up the hill to the caves and then start the summoning chant as soon as it's dark."

My team of five traversed up the steep hill through the underbrush and into the thick evergreens. It felt like night even though we still had a few hours until twilight. We made it as scheduled and set up for the invocation process.

"How much longer, Dru?" A familiar female voice piped up from about ten feet away from me.

"Twenty-one." I glanced at my watch. "No wait, twenty minutes."

Nat sighed and stepped onto a boulder nearby. She nervously adjusted her push dagger on her hip holster. Her hair was cut short in a pixie style and she was wearing silver hoops. Although we were on a hunt, she figured she still had to be stylish.

Ash paced the grass kicking clumps of dirt around. He hung back waiting for my orders. He was in his human form and was able to speak short sentences now. His vocabulary was building up and he was learning to integrate with others beside myself.

The sun dipped lower to the horizon. The sky started to turn reddish with a few purple streaks. "Not much longer, guys. Don't forget, when I say the incantation, I expect them to come fast. I'm sure they'll be pissed off too. Be ready with the sugar scatter. All confirm?"

Several voices repeated back. "Confirmed." The sky turned purple and the clouds became a dark gray. Okay, here goes nothing.

Spirits, fairies or pixie kind.

We request your presence, unveil, unwind.

I flinched expecting something monumental to happen. There was only silence, not even the sound of a cricket. And it was odd.

A cough echoed in my earpiece. "Dru, are you sure those were the right words?"

"Shut up Shanks, will ya? Give it a minute." Dibs' voice sounded annoyed at his pal's impatience.

"One one-thousand, two one-thousand, three-one thousand, four…." A jolt from the ground beneath caught me off guard. I jumped onto a boulder and landed in a crouch. I was also trying to shake off the regretful feeling that I shouldn't have pushed the Order and Christophe so hard for this hunting mission.

Nat crouched lower to the ground and grasped onto the handle of her blade. Ash changed into his wulf form then sniffed the air cautiously. "Dru, what is going on there? I do not have a visual." Christophe's voice came softly through my earpiece.

"Hang on Chris. Something's happening. We just got a bump and…."

Before I could finish, a blast of wings, accompanied by screeching, emerged from the caves. I held my two malaika blades in hand ready for anything. The first thing I noticed was the smell. It was like the odor of decomposing broccoli and dying flowers. It was nauseating.

A cloud of winged creatures hovered before us. They seemed to be scanning for their next move. They were smallish things, about eight inches in height but they were fast, not to mention ugly. Most had no hair on their heads except for a few strands that grew from stray dead follicles. Their pink eyes were bulgy and their flaky, decomposed skin was a grayish-white color. The ears were pointy and mildly twisted in most cases. Amazingly, they had large wings that were translucent with blue veins coursing through them. And they were undead.

"Okay, ready with the scatter, Shanks?"

"On your call, Dru."

The leader fairy creature hovering in the center of the swarm looked and pointed at me with its crooked finger.

"I think it knows something's up, Dru." Dibs shifted nervously from one foot to the other. He willed himself to change to his Other form. The sound of popping bones echoed against the trees. Shanks and Nat remained in their human forms still waiting for my order.

The leader fairy's face started to twist up into a ball of pissed off emotion. Finally its wings started flapping furiously and it came at me like a blur of gray and pink. "Now!" Each of us launched of a cloud of sugar toward the fairies. As I expected, the leader stopped mid-air and hovered to watch the sugar granules fall to the ground. The others hovered back to watch.Look at that. Just as the book said, they're compelled to stop and pick up every little granule, distracting it you can go for the kill.

The leader looked up again at me. To my disgust, an evil little grin appeared on its face and then it raised its left index finger, waving it back and forth in the air as if it was telling me that I had done something very wrong. Crap, we're in deep shit now.

The fairies screeched in unison. The sound they made was almost indescribable. It was kind of melodic, but not really. It reminded me of the time we lived in Tucson when I was twelve and in order to pass music appreciation class, I had to learn how to play the clarinet. That noise was God-awful and so were those ugly ass, zombie-like fairies.

We all covered our ears to muffle the noise. Ash was annoyed as he shook his head back and forth then howled into the evening air.

The swarm darted toward us, splitting into small pods to attack each of us. The leader kept its eyes on me and pursued me as I ran down the hill to buy myself some time. "Sorry team! The sugar bombs didn't work at all. Engage Plan B… blades and silver bullets. And remember, don't let them touch you… they're poisonous and can paralyze."

Nearly seventeen minutes after the incantation was thrown, the fairies were decomposing where they laid on the ground. August and Christophe arrived shortly after they heard I called for Plan B. "Dru, that was too close." Christophe was trying hard not to chastise me but it seemed to be his nature.

It was a hot mess, but we got it done without injury or loss. Dibs fell once and almost got touched if it weren't for Ash's quick moves with the bowie knife. He'd become pretty skilled with it in the past year, which had paid off.

August spoke up to defend my leadership skills. "She did okay for the first team lead assignment. It can always be better, right kiddo?" He looked to me for a reaction.

I jumped on the opportunity to add something positive. "No one got hurt or killed and the fairies are vanquished. I'd call that a win."

Nat chimed in with a word of support. "Good job, Dru. That's a victory in my book."

"Thanks, Nat. Now can we head back to the schola? I'm coated with fairy guts and could use a shower. Plus I could eat a horse. My treat team." I didn't get any resistance to that suggestion at least. I'd have to wait and see if Christophe had an argument for me later.

To say the least the process of planning and executing the fairy mission had been a distraction, in a welcome way, from thinking about Graves.

I had to admit, in the first two weeks since Graves left the Primaschola, I thought of him almost hourly. He had looked so ragged and tired, wearing huge dark circles under his once luminescent green eyes. I wanted to see him back to his smart ass Goth Boy self and at his best again. However, I got the sense that I never really saw Graves at his best even when he seemed in his element. I was in awe and kind of jealous of him when we moved to the Reform schola, where he was treated like a prince by other wulfen kind. He even earned the respect of some of the djamphire teachers, namely Christophe's former confidant, Dylan.

It seems like years ago when we first met in a South Dakota history class. All the students, including Graves, were being bullied by some insecure, tenured, high school teacher. The tables were turned when I lost my cool one day and used the touch to choke the smugness out of her. I guess there ended my public school education.

The world changed overnight for me beginning with Dad being transformed into a zombie and having to kill him on our living room carpet. Graves and I became survivors of the real world, which we learned was filled with zombies, burning dogs, werewulves, suckers, flying snakes that steal your dreams, and everything in between.

I still had not heard any word from Graves in the weeks since he was escorted to a wulfen retreat up north. I suppose I didn't really expect to hear anything right away, but it would have been nice given we poured our hearts out to each other on that last day. I still have flashbacks of words he spoke to me.

"…here's the thing, Dru… I'm not worth you. But I'm gonna be…I love you. Okay? I promise."

It was nearly four weeks after Graves left that I finally got a letter from him in the mail. I tried looking for Nat in the caf at lunch but didn't see any sign of her. Maybe she was with Shanks again? They had been seeing more and more of each other in the past few months so it was highly likely. Or maybe she was in the wulfen library studying for anatomy. Since wulfen classes are on the lower level I didn't get to see much of Nat during the day except for lunch hour. If I can change things as the head of the Order, one day the Prima, and all scolas, won't have to hold separate classes for djampiresandwulfen. Hell, if Anna could murder all thesvetocha, for sixty years without anyone knowing, I certainly could change the location of the classes at a bunch of boarding schools, right?

I could barely open the envelope of Graves' letter since my fingers were so clumsy with perspiration and anticipation. The cream-colored paper looked handmade but good quality. I held my breath as I scanned the words on the page.

Dear Dru,

I'm sorry that this is the first time that I've written to you since I left the Prima. That day was harder for me than I can explain. I know I haven't told you about the past much and there's good reason for not sharing. Part is the shame and part is being scared that you'll reconsider your feelings because I'm broken.

The first week here I pretty much spent being fed some damn good home-cooked food. I'm sure I've gained back my weight, plus a few more, since I last saw you. I'm still so tired Dru. I've been with the wulfen healers everyday and I'm beginning to think it might not work. Every morning I get up and tell myself something's changing. I'm trying to use the power of positive thinking. What the hell, it can't hurt, right?

Dru, I can't tell you how long I'll be away. I think about you a lot and smile when I do. You are beautiful, Dru. I should've told you. I was, still am, intimidated of your courage. Since you bloomed, I'm even worse.

As much as I hate to imagine you and him spending time with each other everyday, I know he does a pretty good job keepin you safe. Take care of yourself kid.

-Graves

I read the letter three times, slower each time I did, wondering if there was a hidden meaning or feeling in between the paragraphs. I couldn't decide if his words were comforting or discomforting. Graves is the one person left in this world that truly gets me and I wasn't about to give up on him so quickly. I worried if he would always be broken in some way. Would this scar on his psyche prevent him from being the man that he should be? I supposed the damage to a child can never be erased. I should know since I never really got used to living without a mother.

When Graves said that he didn't like the fact that Christophe was with me everyday, I have to admit that it felt good. A little jealousy wouldn't hurt in this case. However, I don't like keeping secrets from Graves and one day I'm going to have to spill the beans about the random make-out sessions with Christophe. I get a woosy feeling just thinking about his touch and the assertive way he acts like he wants me. Probably the most infuriating thing about it all is that Christophe has a way of catching me off guard every time. I wouldn't doubt he fully understands the element of surprise.

I folded Graves' letter and stuffed it in my Yoda notebook for easy access later after Nat helps me get ready for bed, and Christophe says his usual "Good night, skowroneczko moja." In the weeks since the final battle with Sergej, when I saved Christophe from a brutal and almost certain death, I could tell that he had been making efforts to be someone "better", just as he had said. Was he really becoming a better man? So far it seemed he was trying.

Since I resumed my normal djampire classes, including our daily sparring practice, Christophe seemed more respectful - in subtle ways. He stopped demanding me to "put your left foot here" or to do it "again!" Once Christophe had even asked if I was "willing to go another round" rather than barking at me to do my positions over again. But then maybe the change in him was because my skills had considerably improved since I proved my skills with the malaikato him.He was still using his business-like voice, but his tone was different, less serious and less…scary.

The following week, I found myself facing down an attacker. I stood in ready position, left leg ahead of the right, arms bent in a defensive position to protect my face and body. I tipped my chin downward in anticipation of his first strike. The sun was already starting to dip into the West as dusk settled in. This time of day was the most dangerous because of the change from day to night, when suckers liked to attack.

I waited for him to come to me. My Master's lessons reminded me to be patient for the moment when he, or she, first lashed out. His voice spoke wisely in my head. "Our objective is to end the fight quickly with the least amount of energy used." The assailant stepped forward with his right fist aimed at my face for a sucker punch. I blocked his move with my left and swept my body sideways before landing a strong kick in his knee. He recovered quickly and before I could respond offensively, his hands were gripped around my neck. The air to my brain was being cut off. Think fast Dru before you lose consciousness and this is all over. Dad's voice would say.

I brought my arms up and in between his elbows to thrust downward breaking his grip, taking in a breath. With svetocha speed I advanced at him with my right knee to the groin area. This will teach him a goddamn lesson.

He anticipated the junior move and blocked the knee, pivoted back and swiped my legs from under me. My whole body flailed to the ground. My rear, then head hit the floor. I just laid there, flat on my back in defeat. "Shit! How did that happen?"

The opponent stepped forward and offered his hand out. "Not too bad this time, Milady. Shall we try again?" Bruce was perfectly articulate as he spoke in his Arabic-English accent. I never felt humiliated by him partly because he was so friggin' polite even when he managed to kick my ass. "Please accept my apology if I hurt you, Milady."

"Bruce, how many times have I asked you not to say you're sorry for winning?" I practically rolled my eyes at him.

He cleared his throat before correcting me. "Milady Dru, the art of krav maga is not about winning. It is about the neutralization of threat. Remember to keep the body moving so your opponent must guess, but never know, what will come next. It is called "Retzev" in Hebrew.

"I remember, Bruce. It just feels like losing when I'm the only one to get taken to the floor." I smiled at my Kourio martial arts master. He smiled back and gave me a slight bow. I rolled backwards and onto my haunches before popping up into ready position again. "Okay, bring it on."

As part of my continuing svetocha warrior training, Bruce volunteered to share his martial arts knowledge to improve my hand-to-hand defense tactics. While I was already an expert withmalaika, thanks to Christophe and Anna, may she rest in peace, there were benefits to learning how to use my body as a weapon as well.

Nat and I cashed in my promise to "shop 'til we dropped" in the City for my new wardrobe. Benjamin, Shanks and two other djamphire that Christophe had hand selected, rode in the white SUV behind our sedan. Every time I go to a place like the City I'm reminded of the country girl I was raised as by Dad and Gran, after Mom died. Going to the City is such a culture shock to me, but Nat seems right at home.

I let my wulfen stylist select whatever indie clothing boutiques she thought I'd like. Literally being a fashion hound, she decided everything, down to my shoes. I've never been one to wear much other than Docs and Chucks so donning anything that has even a slight heel is a huge stretch outside my comfort zone. Benjamin tried to hide his amusement when he saw the expression on my face whenever Nat brought me a dress to try on.

The changing rooms were as big as my suite at the schola. I hardly knew what do with all that space. I have to say shopping didn't suck especially because we were served food. Once I even got offered a glass of wine. The only thing that could have topped the experience for me was if someone made me a banana latte. At the end of the five hour trip, I walked away with more clothes than I ever owned in three states.

I was starting to ease into the decision-making duties required by svetocha. The Order met weekly and I was feeling less intimidated by the process, the Kourio and the chamber room inself. The political crap was still a big issue for me but I often took my cues from Hiro by saying nothing and expressing a look of displeasure or approval. It would take time maybe a lifetime to understand the system at play.

I still hadn't heard from Graves since receiving the first letter. The report from Shanks, via his cousin in Canada, was that Graves was undergoing intense healing both mentally and physically. I had heard being loup-garou carried more responsibility because of the expectation to lead. Any indication of being "broken" was career ending. There couldn't be any doubts about the loup-garou's strengths. Dibs, the ever optimist, tried to make the situation sound positive, but deep down I was worried for Graves.

By Spring, Christophe asked if I wanted to travel with him and Bruce to tour the European scholas. As the head of the order, one of my duties was to ensure our foreign counterparts were aware of my existence, which would maintain our alliance with the Maharaja against the suckers. The nosferat scattered since they didn't have their king to unite them in hatred toward us. Christophe assured me that it was just matter of time before another big-wig wampirewould rise up from the dead to fill the throne, dictatorship or whatever form of total domination they called it. He seems to know more than he's letting on.

Not knowing how much longer the wait for Graves would be, I said yes to Christophe's request to go to the other scholas, including visiting his homeland. Nat, Ash, Dibs, Benjamin and two other guardsmen escorted us as part of my entourage. I felt so out of place with all these people just hanging around me waiting for me to do something. Don't they know I'm just plain Dru?

Christophe was eerily quiet on our travels until we reached the capitol city of his home country. Overlooking the horizon filled with beautiful stone buildings with ornate architecture, he spoke like he was outside his own body. "Milna, when I was a boy, this area was known as Livonia. It looked much like it does today, with a few less office buildings." He smirked across the balcony at me. Christophe looked down to the streets below. We were high enough that the noise from the cars below us were inaudible.

"Christophe, tell me what happened to you here, before you hit the drift. Is this were you got those scars in your back?" I reached out and laid my hand on top of his, which rested on the iron railing.

He exhaled slowly. "I am still not ready to speak about it, kochana. One day I will share it with you, but not yet." He was looking at me but didn't seem to see me. He was deep in thought and remained quiet on our return to the States. We arrived home after a month of travelling just in time to enjoy the end of summer in New York.

In the fall we celebrated my eighteenth birthday with a huge bash in the schola's garden. The enormous lush area was covered with a huge white tent with twinkle lights wrapped around each beam. Hundreds of paper origami birds hung from the ceiling in various bold colors. Nat had coordinated the event down to the last drop of bubbly. There were musicians, balloonists, dancers, artists of all types roaming the party. Nat really knew how to throw the party of the year, hell, the century.

I insisted on having both djamphire and wulfen attend the event, including some of Nat's friends who were also female wulfen. I have never been one to have many friends who are girls but Nat was my best friend now. I fully relied on her opinions and recommendations. I had to admit that it was nice having other females around. Someday things are going to change around here.

Being transient for ten years with Dad never really allowed me to enjoy anything like a birthday party. We just weren't in one place long enough for me to make any "friends", but being at the schola for my eighteenth was... not bad. Among one of the perks of the event were the gifts. I'd never seen such gorgeous trinkets, books, a bedazzled pocket knive and my favorite, a new 9 mm gun. Shanks was spot on with good taste.

Curiously one of the boxes contained the most unusual gift. Within a blue container was a set of Russian nesting dolls, the matryoshka. However these dolls were different than others I had seen. The seven outer dolls did not have eyes. Instead they had holes where the eyes should have been. It kind of creeped me out just looking at them. However the eighth and smallest wooden doll, the baby, had aqua blue painted irises. It was oddly beautiful.

"Nat, did you give the Russian doll set to me?"

"What Dru?" She couldn't hear over the music from the band.

"Did you give me this?" I held up the matryoshka for her to see.

Nat made a repulsed face. "Ugh, no honey. That is wierd. I wouldn't do something like that unless I wanted to freak you out."

I was baffled but didn't have time to dwell on it. At 3 AM Christophe approached and requested that he have a moment alone with me. The wulfen girl I was talking and laughing with nodded her head slightly and stepped away. Christophe and I walked toward the quieter end of the gardens to the great stone bench on the west side. He cleared his throat with a slight cough.

"How does our grown up little bird feel now?"

I gulped with anticipation of not knowing what Christophe's intent was. "Good, I guess?" I said a little nervously. He took my goblet from my hands and set it on the bench. He opened my right palm and held my hands in his without speaking. He began to trace little circles with the tip of his middle finger into the center of my right hand. The sensation caused the hair at the nape of my neck to stand at attention.

"Kochana, I realize that you are very young in comparison to my years and I understand your hesitation towards me because of this." I held my breath while he paused thinking of what to say next. "I see our age difference as an advantage because I can learn from you and you from me."

I started feeling a bit light in the head from the palm dusting Christophe was giving, plus I could sense what was coming. I suppose one does not need the Touchto know that. "You should know that my feelings for you have not changed at all, milna. I hope you have seen that I have been different…more of what you need… and hopefully want. " His blue eyes shined in the moonlight as the aspect glowed across his masculine, but delicate, facial features.

I squeaked at first then cleared my throat. "Christophe, uh, I have noticed and I…. am appreciative of the space you've been giving me lately." He tilted his head downward but kept his eyes focused on me with intensity. He stayed silent and allowed me to continue, "It has been more than difficult without Graves around and without knowing when he's…." My voice stopped coming out, afraid to state it out loud.

Christophe gracefully changed the subject as the emotion started to fog up my vision, coming to my rescue again. "You must be tired now, Milady. May I walk to you your room?" I agreed, sniffing as he gently took my hand and led the way back to the schola's dorms.

"Kochana, I know that you have been disappointed by the loup-garou's lack of communication since he left." I swallowed hard and tried not to let the tears come up further than my nose. I looked over at one of the oil paintings of an ancient battle across the hallway to distract myself from really crying. "However," he continued "...have you come into any clarity over the year about what you want?"

I could feel my mother's locket slightly heating up and sticking to my breastbone. "Chris, I… I have to admit that I thought about Graves everyday at first. It was hard to wake up every morning and know that he chose to go away. I am being selfish, I know. Graves needs to take care of himself first so that he can be stronger than he was."

I sighed and looked down at Christophe's black shiny boots. "I still don't know what I need, Chris. I wish I could say." He closed his eyes and held his breath for a moment before saying, "Dru, maybe the answer is not knowing what you need. It's about what you want." As he said this Christophe slipped both of his arms around my waist, slightly pulling me in closer so that my kitten-heeled shoes contacted the tips of his boots. That intoxicating smell of cinnamon-y apple pie baking in a warm oven filtered into my brain. Oh Lord, I still don't know if it's that damn smell that I like or if it's really him. That smell reminds me of October, Halloween, Kit Kats and a fire burning in the hearth at Gran's.

He reverently bowed his forehead to mine so our noses touched. Goosebumps and electricity washed down my spine. My legs were numb and I found my hands gravitating upward into his temples under his dark hair, which waved to blond streaks when the aspect flushed. I felt my own aspect flutter through me as the heat between our connecting bodies fired up.

My mind flashed to thoughts of Graves. Why hasn't he called or emailed or wrote or sent me a word through Shanks? Has he forgotten? Is he still so broken that he has decided not to return at all? Why am I pushing against Christophe when things don't have to be so complicated? He's here now and he wants me.

I tilted my chin upwards and slightly to the right so that my softly pursed lips gently contacted Christophe's lower lip. There was no reaction. His lips stayed slightly open like he was smelling the gentle air passing from his breath into my mouth. I advanced by pressing my upper body against his chest into his black v-neck sweater. My mother's locket smashed between my black fitted dress and his thin layer of clothing. It was hot on my skin.

My left hand moved to the back of his head and stayed at his nape where the dark brown curls started. I used the tip of my tongue to brush his lower lip. A spark and a pop of noise went off in my head. I don't know if Christophe felt that zip of biting energy too, however just at that moment he returned my little advances by pulling me in tightly. His embrace was firm as he kissed me full-mouthed. His tongue smoothed across my teeth and invited me to do the same to his. I leaned forward into him pushing toward the door of my room. Christophe silently turned the handle and pulled us in, closing the door and leaving us both standing in the dark.