Sometimes, Sebastian wished he could go back in time and fix everything. Returning to Crossroads Memorial Hospital roused haunting memories, and upon discovering those files, he noticed Castor kept his distance from him. They barely spoke a word in passing when Castor came for his blood and helped with his rounds at the clinic. Sebastian was grateful enough that he still came around.

“Why do you believe some nonsense papers over me?” Sebastian asked, sipping from a styrofoam cup of blood in the break room. “You’d be surprised how easy it is to forge them.”

“I reached out to Monarch Colette about it. Hell, I even swiped the file and showed her,” Castor admitted.

Sebastian frowned. “What did she say?”

“She demanded I quit asking questions about it.”

“Understandable. It’s a load of horse shit, you know?”

Castor rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “When she wasn’t paying attention, I hexed her while feeding. It only lasts a few minutes, but the spell forces the user to tell the truth. It works best when the person isn’t aware you hexed them, so they’ll never know.”

“That was very stupid of you.” Sebastian shook his head. “What did she say?”

“Sebastian Wraith died from starvation and an overdose of silver in his veins.”

Sebastian furrowed his brows. “I don’t understand.”

“If I had to guess, you were part of their cruel experiments and they brainwashed you into thinking you’re another person. You’re most certainly a vampire, but not a binge drinker like you claim. I believe the real Sebastian was. I just don’t know who you really are. You don’t either.”

“That makes no sense.” Sebastian gulped down the remainder of his blood. “I’m not someone else, nor am I brainwashed. It’s also true that I’m a binge drinker, but like I’ve told you, I keep it under control. It’s taken many years to do so.”

“If you say so.” Castor nodded.

“You don’t believe me, do you?” Sebastian rose from his chair, daubing his lips with the back of his hand. “Fine. I’ll be gone for a while. My nurses can handle the remainder of our clients today, so you may return to Monarch Colette.”

“Visiting Asher isn’t a good idea.”

Sebastian glared at his friend. “That’s not where I’m going.”

Before Castor could question him further, he donned his overcoat and hurried out the front door. Crisp icy wind nipped at his face as he shifted into a bat, soaring up toward the heavens. Why would Monarch Colette tell Castor he’d died? Maybe Castor lied about hexing her, but it didn’t seem like something he’d do. And how did Mr. Odowix know about that hospital and his files? None of it made a lick of sense to him.

Sebastian twisted through skeletal trees, swooping down upon reaching the graveyard of Nevermourn. Perhaps it was all a part of Mr. Odowix’s plan to ostracize him from everyone. Asher had trusted him, but not anymore. The mage made that very clear when they left the hospital building that day. The revelation of those files even turned Castor against him.

Snow kissed his tender cheeks, stained with droplets of blood, once he shifted back into his vampire form when he neared his beloved Mave’s grave. He collapsed to his knees. “I wish you were here, darling. You’d believe me. No matter what evidence they found, you’d know it in your soul that I’m no demon or wicked impersonator.” Sebastian wiped his eyes, blinking snowflakes from his wet lashes.

Despite all the years he visited his dear wife’s grave, he never felt her presence there. Many folks were blessed with abilities to sense the deceased and spirits clung desperately to them, but Sebastian was not one of them. Honestly, he wondered if he repelled spirits, as he’d never seen one even as a mortal.

Sebastian wanted to believe she was watching over him. Yet he knew the reality was that her soul was probably lost in purgatory, unable to ever visit the living realm again. He’d tried contacting her spirit many times, even seeking out kooky psychics in hopes of hearing from her, but none ever proved to be trustworthy. They just told him what he wanted to hear.

“How can I fix this mess?” Sebastian asked softly, knowing he’d receive no answer from her grave. “What if they turn against me and try to pin these murders on me? I can’t imagine a life as a prisoner. I’m not strong enough to endure that again.”

Wisps of wind rustled his hair before he tugged his hood back over his head. Just as he prepared to take flight, a malodorous stench burned his nostrils. Matted fur and sweat. A wolf walker. Before Sebastian had a chance to shift and take flight, the wolf man emerged from a row of headstones, clad in a velvet maroon robe. He tugged his hood down, revealing a bushy face full of damp fur and sharp canines.

“Sebastian.” A low growl rumbled in the wolf walker’s throat as he neared him.

“What do you want?” Sebastian cautioned a step back, trembling hand resting atop of his wife’s headstone.

“You do not recognize me?” The wolf walker scratched behind his ear, piercing yellow eyes seeming to glow.

“No. You must have me mistaken for someone else. I’ve never treated any wolf walkers.”

“It has been a long time, Sebastian. I don’t blame you for not recognizing me like this.” The wolf walker let out an agonizing howl, shifting into his human form. Tousled brown locks and rough stubble came into the morning light, highlighting those predacious eyes.

“Quentin?” Sebastian blinked.

In Valorath, Quentin aided Sebastian and the other vampires in escaping hellish torment. He owed him his life.

“How did this happen? Who cursed you?” Sebastian reached out to him and gently touched his arm, but he jerked from the mere touch as if it stung.

“Alastor Odowix.”

Sebastian frowned. “Does he happen to have a child named Asher?”

“Yes.” Quentin nodded. “That’s why I’m here. I was hired to find him and bring him home. It has been a pain in the ass. I’d have never taken this job had it not been her who sought me out.”

“Who’s looking for Asher?” Sebastian cautioned his words.

“His mother. Well, her ghost.”

Sebastian’s brows shot up. “His mother’s ghost sent you? Why?”

“She’s an old friend. I’d do anything for her.” Quentin’s expression grimmed. “That bastard Alastor stole him from her years ago, forcing the poor boy to train as a hunter. She never wanted that life for him. Lilith endured it as a child herself, having been raised by two hunters. But Alastor didn’t give a damn about that. Only looking for more soldiers for his war.”

“For fangs sake, I wish you’d come to me sooner. Like that night I saw you in the woods, performing some kind of magic.”

“Right after you stole my spellbook?” Quentin smirked.

If Sebastian’s complexion weren’t already so pale, he’d have camouflage with the snow. “I’m so sorry. If you need it back, I’ll try to convince Asher-”

“Let him keep it.” Quentin waved a dismissive hand. “It wasn’t like I could just walk into Nevermourn. Your vampire buddies would smell wolf.” He gestured to his chest. “You know how things are between us and vampires. Almost as bad as the wizards.”

“Have you tried the remedies?” Sebastian asked softly. “Doctors have worked for centuries to find a cure for Lycanthropy. Wolf walkers are not my expertise, but I can help with whatever you need.”

“You got a stash of hearts at your clinic? Moondust elixirs?” Quinten asked.

“No, nothing like that I’m afraid. I don’t even know where you’d find hearts, aside from the black market.”

“That’s normally where I get mine,” Quinten admitted. “A shop in Caverott sells them for a reasonable price. She sells blood as well, actually. Almost anything supernatural beings like us could need.”

“What’s this place called?” Sebastian asked. “And where can I find it?”

“Moonshine Apothecary. Hidden in a back alleyway of Deep Dish pizzeria,” Quinten replied. “You can’t miss it. Mrs. Brevil will help you with whatever you heart desires, but certain things can be costly.”

With Asher and Castor giving him the cold shoulder, he doubted either would wish to explore the apothecary with him. Sebastian didn’t fancy visiting it alone either.

“Could you take me there? Surely the owner will be more accommodating if she sees you with me, as you’re a regular customer.”

“Right now?” Quinten raised a brow. “You don’t seem starved for blood, and I can’t see why you wouldn’t just grab a pint at your own clinic for free.”

“I don’t need blood.” Sebastian shook his head. “I’m searching for the most effective truth serum there is out there. I’d rather not buy it from my friend’s family either.”

“Ah, I see. Need to get the truth out of him, huh?” Quinten smirked. “They certainly sell those at this shop, but be wary of what it might cost. I’ve taken on so many odd jobs lately just to get by.”

Sebastian nodded. “I’m willing to pay whatever the price so long as this helps.”