***

“And I am still grounded. You?” asked Elijah.

Instead of staring at a glass ceiling and into the deathly night, he was staring at the white ceiling of his room.

“Nope. How can she ground you in your own apartment?” lamented Marcus.

Elijah turned over and looked at his phone in its charger. Marcus, still healing his face, was looking at him from the phone. The red head man was going to have a gnarly scar on his right cheek where the Shadow nearly got him.

“Because she pays for rent,” snapped Elijah.

“Damn, man. Sorry I asked,” said Marcus, slightly hurt.

Elijah let out a sigh. “Hey, forget that. I didn’t mean to get upset. It just sucks having her always on my case, y’know.”

“No, I don’t. I have a job, so my parents can’t do this to me,” said Marcus. “I swear, I think they want to though after that incident at the museum.”

“Hmm, maybe I should get a job then,” said Elijah. Something had been bothering him since that night. “So, you remember everything yet?” he asked.

“Nope,” answered Marcus. “You?”

“Same. Everything is bits and pieces,” said Elijah. “Mother said that when they came, they found us and a dead body.”

“Yeah, kinda creepy isn’t it?” said Marcus.

“How should I know? I was unconscious and so were you now that I think about it,” said Elijah.

“Arthur took a pic. Let me send it to you,” said Marcus.

Elijah got up and picked up his phone. An envelope icon blinked at the top of his phone’s screen in which he tapped it. A few moments later, an image of a body in black clothing appeared. The body was of a man with his chest opened up and part of his neck missing. “What is this?” he said before switching back to Marcus’ face on his phone.

“Don’t tell your mother any of this or else she will know I told you and then probably be very pissed at my parents who told me, but,” hesitated Marcus. “That is the body of a wassin. You were wrong. That wasn’t some ancient magic or curse that we were talking to. We were talking to this asshole all that time. The Coven is still sorting out who sent him.”

Elijah frowned. He didn’t like making mistakes. He could have sworn that the magic he felt at the door was ancient and not this wassin, a witch assassin trained to kill other witches. However, now that he thought about more with the evidence he was looking at, it seemed that is the most likely explanation. “That doesn’t make sense? Why would the wassin warn us before trying to kill us?” he said.

“Maybe he’s demented from all the torture training they go through? I heard from one of my cousins, y’know, Becky.”

“Hmm, I suppose,” said Elijah. He had heard the same rumors as well about the wassins. However, who would send a wassin to the museum and why? He could only think of one person. “I bet it's Hammer who sent the wassin and did so as a small petty revenge.”

Marcus snorted. “Yeah, that’s what everyone's thinking. Only he can pull that shit off.”

Elijah, if he had not known Hammer personally, would not have believed that. “Yeah, that bastard.”

“We should be wondering who killed the wassin?” said Marcus.

“Hmm, you’re right. We were both unconscious. The wassin would’ve finished the job,” said Elijah and stroked his chin. He recalled the image. “I suspect a vampire from the drained blood and him missing parts of the neck — a bad attempt to disguise a bite, but then his chest was opened up... uh, heart was missing?”

“Yeah, I know. Perhaps the vampire decided to have a trophy,” said Marcus, who then shook his head. “I want to believe, but at the same time why would House Eagle help us? Let alone why any of them were there for god knows what?”

“Maybe they heard what we heard too. I’m not sure. Everything is so confusing,” said Elijah. “Maybe, after we healed up, it would all come back?”

“Hmm, Arthur is not sure. Whatever that wassin hit us, part of our memory got wiped or else we’d be at the council now getting asked all sorts of questions,” said Marcus.

“Insurance in case we survived,” said Elijah grimly.

“Yup. So, I guess you’re going to be in your apartment for a while?” asked Marcus.

“Yep. Mother has eyes and trackers on me. She also confiscated my athame too to make her point. Of course, I am allowed to go out for food and school,” said Elijah. He ran his fingers into his black thick hair. “Hopefully, it will only be for a couple of months.”

“So see you on Mondays and Tuesdays then?” said Marcus.

“Yeah, see you then in class,” said Elijah. “Later.”

“Later,” said Marcus.

Their call ended. Elijah made a big sigh. It had been only a few days since the incident at the museum and, yet, despite all the craziness that happened, he felt empty. “Maybe I should get something to eat.” But he didn’t feel like eating.

All he could think about was what happened in the museum, the wassin and Hammer. He had told Marcus that it was probably a revenge from Hammer, but he knew better. Hammer doesn’t do petty revenge. And then there was the magic on the door. A lack of memory was not helping quench his want to know what happened and why.

He got up from his bed and walked to his closet. He opened it. Before him was an array of clothes in shades of black and greys. However, there was one particular, a white cloak, that stood out from the rest.

Elijah’s mother may have her eyes and trackers on him, but he was the one-in-the-a-thousand after all. He smiled as he took the white cloak and put it over him. The cloak had actually been a gag gift from Rachel, his childhood friend. She had made it in her enchanted class, but the teacher gave her a failing grade due to its particular weaknesses.

“Read and if I am not back by 10, sleep,” he said.

As Elijah stepped a foot forward to his bedroom door, an image of himself pulled away. The image waved before going to his table and picking up a book. This was a mirage of him, and his mother’s eyes wouldn’t be able to tell the difference.

But the trackers? There’s no way he could avoid them. They tracked every shadow that crosses their paths. He pulled the cloak’s hood over his head. However, they are completely oblivious to light. When he opened his bedroom door, the spilling light from the afternoon ate him away until there was nothing left of him.

***

Elijah was back at the museum. He hid behind a recycling bin without his cloak. He had hidden the cloak nearby. It needed to rest as one of its weaknesses is that long exposure to sunlight made it overheat. On top of that it was utterly useless at night and winter, but for a short exposure to light, it made him invisible. He found it so ironic that Rachel’s failed project had actually helped him out. He made a note to give her something other than a birthday card when she threw her usual birthday party.

The sound of wood hitting concrete drew his attention to two men carrying a long wooden crate to an open truck.

“What the hell, Matt?” said the man that was still holding onto the crate. The name, Jamison, was embroidered over his front pocket of his uniform.

“Sorry, shit is way heavier than what we were told. It’s like a body is in there,” said Matt as he cracked his knuckles.

“Eh, it’s fine. They’re supposed to be just props the museum uses to enhance the actually priceless stuff.” Then Jamison's voice lowered. “I heard these are going to Los Angeles for the new vampire movie. Sequel to Queen of the Damn.”

Matt whistled. “Yes, I waited over ten years!” he squealed in delight.

Elijah leaned forward from the recycling bin to get a closer look at the crate. It had the words, “Props 2017,” sprayed painted on it, but that’s not what got his attention. The lid of the crate had popped open ever so slightly.

He was so concentrated on the crate that he didn’t see a black cat jumping out of the recycling bin. Another cat, a black and white one, popped out next. Both of the cats hissing and screeching.

The sound was enough for Matt and Jamison to look at Elijah’s way.

“Hey, you, what are you doing here?” shouted Matt, who spotted Elijah peeking from the recycling bin.

“Stupid cats!” cursed Elijah. He started to make his run, but his foot slipped on a rolling can.

Law of fucking Three. You had to come now? he thought.

Elijah flew backward and landed hard, his back banging on the ground. He moaned as he turned over. Before he could get up, Matt and Jamison had him, pulling him up and locking his arms behind him.

“What were you doing here?” demanded Matt.

“You better talk or we will beat it out of you,” threatened Jamison.

“Hey, I just was lost,” lied Elijah. He noted how overly threatening they were. They marched him toward the crate.

“Lost my ass. Tell me why you're really here?” Matt tightening his hold to the point, Elijah gritted feeling his joints about to pop out.

“Just lost, fucker!” Elijah tried to back kick Matt but Matt stood his ground.

Matt, in response, lifted Elijah up and slammed him hard on the ground. Elijah felt all the air was knocked out of him.

“Punk tried to kick me!” said Matt to Jamison. He then placed a foot over Elijah’s neck. “Move and I’ll break you.”

Elijah complied. He did not have his athame so he couldn’t tap on his raw power and he hesitated to do any hexes or curses due to the Law of Three—of which he just recently paid the price for. He looked up at Matt and was pretty sure the man could snap his neck since the man was built like a linebacker. How was he to get out of this? Make another lie? His eyes darted to Jamison who was just as built. It seemed he may not have any choice at this point and take the consequences for a hex.

“Hold him, I am going to call the police to arrest him,” said Jamison.

As Jamison pulled out his phone, the crate’s lid blew off. A dark haired woman emerged from the crate, dark eyes narrowed at the two men. She wore a bloodied, torn shirt and blood stained jeans. The blood on them looked days old and already cakey.

What happened next was so fast that when Elijah barely registered what was going on. The woman became a blurred shadow in one moment, and the next she was biting down on Jamison’s neck. Matt went off screaming, “Vampire!”

Elijah propped himself on his elbow. He was in both disbelief and fear. He had only seen two vampires in his life so far, and it was when he was a kid. Both times the vampires weren’t feeding.

This was his first to see. The sucking and gurgling sound mixed with the awful twist of pain in Jamison’s face yet unable to speak made Elijah’s heart race. He wanted to run, however it was his disbelief that kept him watching.

The vampire lifted her head from Jamison’s neck. Her lower face smeared with blood and it glistened under the afternoon sunlight. She turned to Elijah and said, “You get into trouble a lot, don’t you?” She turned back to Jamison. “Today is your lucky day.”

Jamison fell to the ground as the woman let him go. He grasped his bleeding neck and stared at her with his mouth opened. He was shaking but made no sound from his mouth.

“I will let you live unlike the other guy.” The vampire nudged a chin at Elijah. “That man in black stabbed me! So I drank all of his blood.”

Elijah gulped. He recalled the image that Marcus had sent him. Of the dark clothed man whose heart was ripped out and a piece of his neck missing. Who killed the wassin became crystal clear.

The vampire then knelt before Jamison, her face leveled with his. Her eyes flicked into red. “You will forget what has happened here. It was all a dream. Your neck wound was from an accident. You fell and a couple of sharp rocks that pierced your neck. You didn’t bleed out, so you didn’t think much about it.” She stood up and waved her hand at Jamison. “Now run home.”

Jamison stared at her for a few moments before getting up finally and ran off.

“What about the other guy?” said Elijah as he got up.

The vampire turned to Elijah and shrugged. “Oh well.”

“I see,” said Elijah quietly. “Thank you for saving me.”

“Twice but a thanks is appreciated,” said the vampire. She tried to wipe the blood from her lower face with her torn sleeves, but gave up when she realized how Elijah was staring at her. “I am trying to get rid of the blood.”

“No, it’s not that,” said Elijah. He walked up to her. She was at least four to five inches shorter than him. “Can I see your hands?”

“Uh, why?” she asked.

“I want to see something,” he answered.

“Sure, I guess.” She offered the hand that wasn’t bloodied. “I’m Leora. You?”

Elijah had taken the hand for a moment before releasing it. “Elijah,” he said. His eyes were now wide with wonder. “I don’t think I feel any magic. Not that any sane witch would help you guys.”

“Magic of what?” asked Leora as she scratched her head.

“You’re serious? You are standing unharmed,” he said.

Leora shrugged. “Isn’t it normal to stand? Well, maybe not with all this blood.”

Elijah blinked several times at her. With an incredulous smile he said, “For a vampire standing in daylight, no.”