Two
The first day of classes was incredibly dull, and Sam wasn’t looking forward to a repeat on the second day. It took her everything she had to crawl out of bed early enough to get to class on time, and while she was proud of the fact she wasn’t going to be late, her lack of motivation made her worry about falling asleep during her morning lecture. As she trudged along to her first class, however, she spotted an unexpected figure in the distance that shook her from her groggy state.
​
Even without his unusual blonde and brown split hair, Sam was certain she could pick Isaac out of a crowd anywhere, despite how long they had been apart. The stiff, overly proper way he carried himself as he walked through the building, weaving carefully through slower passersby, had become incredibly familiar to her. When she hadn’t seen him the previous day anywhere on campus, she was worried she wasn’t going to. Yet, the fact that he hadn’t also noticed her made her wonder if he was just incredibly preoccupied or if her fears of him trying to distance himself from her over the past few months were confirmed.
​
“Isaac!” she called to him as she struggled to catch up with his long strides.
​
He froze and turned around. When he saw her, his face lit up, making her release the breath she didn’t realize she was holding.
​
“Sammy!”
​
To her surprise, he matched her enthusiasm and they hugged briefly. For a moment, she felt she had caught a glimpse of the eccentric kid he used to be, a past version of himself that was always smiling and trying to make everyone around him laugh. When they broke away and she looked at his face again, the glimmer in his eyes had died down, bringing her back to the present reality. He still looked happy to see her, but there felt like there was a distance between them that hadn’t always been there.
​
“I feel like I haven’t seen you in such a long time,” Isaac pointed out.
​
Sam furrowed her brow. “I’ve been trying to contact you for months, dude.” Her tone came out harsher than she had intended, but Isaac didn’t appear as though it offended him. Instead, he closed his eyes and offered an apologetic grin, rubbing the back of his neck with one of his hands.
​
“Sorry,” he offered. “Things were really hectic this past year or so.”
​
“Oh?” She raised an eyebrow, urging him to elaborate. He was hesitant to.
​
“Um, health struggles, I suppose,” he murmured. “I’m feeling a lot better these days.”
​
Now that he had mentioned it, Sam recalled days or weeks where Isaac would look absolutely hollow and unwell. He had always acted as though he was fine, “just tired,” whenever she asked. Still, the excuse seemed off, like he wasn’t being totally honest with her. She closed her eyes and waved a dismissive hand between them.
​
“No worries, man,” she interjected. “You don’t need to tell me anything you don’t want to share.”
​
This proved to be the right response, as Sam noticed Isaac visibly relax and exhale a sigh.
​
“You know I’d tell you more if I could.”
​
“I get it,” she mused. “That stuff can be hard to talk about.”
​
For a moment, Isaac went silent, pensively looking out the window behind her. Before he could add anything, if he was even going to, she felt her phone buzz in her pocket and instinctively pulled it out to check it. There was a new text message.
​
Sorry, I won’t be able to make it this Thursday. I’ll be back in town soon, I promise! -E
​
“Something wrong?” asked Isaac, presumably seeing the disappointment on her face.
​
Sam sighed and put the phone back in her pocket.
​
“Girl problems, I guess.”
​
“Go on,” he said, crossing his arms.
​
“I really like her but I haven’t been able to see her lately,” vented Sam, running a frustrated hand through her hair. “I can’t tell if she’s genuinely busy or just flaking on me.”
​
He nodded thoughtfully. “You should break up with her.”
​
Sam swatted him on the arm and laughed. “I’m not going to take relationship advice from you,” she teased.
​
“That’s fair. A good call, actually.”
​
Their conversation had made her feel more confident, and Sam was sure now that Isaac hadn't been trying to cut her out of his life. She looked at him carefully, and he mimicked the quizzical expression that was on her face.
​
“Are you free Thursday night?” she asked. “My roommates and I just moved into a new place and we’re having a house-warming party. I know it isn’t really your scene but it would be nice to--”
​
“Of course!” he chimed in.
​
She was looking at him in disbelief.
​
“Really?”
​
“Sure,” Isaac continued. “Jonathan is out of town this week and I’m kind of craving some social interaction to fill the void. I should probably socialize more in general, anyway, and it would be a good excuse to catch up with you.”
​
Amused by her own excitement, Sam grinned and gave a thumbs up.
​
“That’s great!” she said. “I’ll send you the address.”
​
He copied her thumbs up, no doubt mocking her more than returning the gesture, before they said their goodbyes and went their separate ways.
​
--
​
​
The lecture hall was massive. It held a couple hundred students, the rows rising as they went back. Yet, with all the other students in the class, Isaac couldn’t help but notice one girl staring at him from across the room. He had felt it when she looked at him, and when he met her gaze she continued to stare, her eyes unwavering with a certain intenseness. She looked shocked, maybe angry with him. As the class went on, she seemed to relax, though he kept noticing her glancing at him from time to time. He wasn’t sure if he should’ve been flattered or worried. When class finally ended, he followed the large group of other students filing out of the room. He was acutely aware of her closing the distance, tracking him.
​
When he got into the hallway, he quickened his pace, but came halting to a stop when she appeared in front of him, still staring just as intensely. Up close, he noticed how short she was. He also couldn’t help but stare back at her concentrated eyes. They shone green and gold, contrasting well with her darker skin. He paused for a moment or two in complete silence, waiting for her to say something.
​
“Your aura,” she started, her words quiet and trailing, lost in thought.
​
“My… What?”
​
“It’s so bright, I’ve never seen anything like it! It’s incredible!” She was definitely rambling more to herself than to him at this point, speaking excitedly and quickly. “See, starseeds have these weird auras too—they’re, like, rainbow. And there are faeries that have all sorts of glittering and bright auras! But I’ve seen all of those before, and yours, well, it’s this magnificent mixture of gold and white! It’s so bright it nearly fills the whole room and so I was thinking that—” she cut herself off to refocus, looking directly at Isaac now. “Are you an angel?”
​
Isaac jumped and put his finger in front of his mouth to suggest she stop talking. He looked side to side to make sure nobody else was paying attention to them. When the coast was clear, he leaned down so that his face was closer to hers.
​
“Can we talk about this somewhere else?” he asked quietly.
​
She beamed and led him to a vacant room with a glass wall. Once inside, he gingerly closed the door and looked at her in shock.
​
“How did you—?
​
“So you are an angel!” she shouted, her eyes glittering as she grinned.
​
“No, not quite,” he corrected. “Only half angel.”
​
Her smile faded. She tilted her head.
​
“I mean, my father’s human. My mother was an angel.”
​
“Oh!” she joined in, clasping her hands together. “That makes you Nephilim, right?”
​
He nodded. “How could you tell, though? You knew I wasn’t just human?”
​
The girl shrugged. “I come from a family of witches,” she said. “My specialty happens to be that I’m really good at picking up on auras.”
She was quiet for a second before returning to her original thoughts.
​
“I can’t even imagine what a full-blooded angel’s aura must look like then,” she said, and her eyes were sparkling again. “If your mother was an angel, does that mean you’ve seen one in real life?”
​
Isaac shook his head. “It’s a lot to get into right now,” he muttered, “but no, I’ve never seen my mother. Aside from photographs, I guess, but she just looked human in them.”
​
Isaac looked at the girl. She had her finger up to her mouth thoughtfully, her eyes darting from left to right as she was trying to come up with more questions. He cocked his head at her, remembering something she had said.
​
“Hey, you mentioned something about the auras of other supernatural beings,” Isaac pointed out, his hand waving in the air as he was trying to find the right way to word his question. “Do you ever see, like, dark entities?”
​
She nodded gravely. “Demons have this horrible black aura. Vampires, oddly enough, don’t seem to have any aura at all.” She looked up and to the left. “Werewolves… Are trickier, but still identifiable.”
​
She could have continued, but Isaac heard what he wanted to hear. “Are there any of them in our class?” he asked.
​
“Dark entities?” she inquired, perking up. “No, I don’t think so. There’s just a faerie.”
​
“A faerie?” Isaac asked, uncertain. “Like, a faerie faerie?” He held his index and thumb out, suggesting something tiny.
​
“Faeries come in lots of shapes and sizes,” she laughed. “You’re just thinking of pixies. They’re a type of faerie. So are gnomes, elves, goblins—“
​
“Okay, okay.” Isaac cut her off. “So there’s a faerie in our class? Who is it?”
​
She smiled coyly. “It’s pretty obvious. You should take a guess.”
​
He frowned and closed his eyes, trying to remember if anyone in class had seemed unnatural. He opened them with an “aha!”
​
“It’s that girl with the blue hair!” he said triumphantly.
​
She laughed. “No, I'm pretty sure she’s just an art student. Though I see now that it might be hard to tell faeries and art kids apart.” She pondered, then shrugged. “It’s the boy with the white hair.”
​
Isaac’s face went blank.
​
“You know,” she continued. “Lanky boy, olive skin, pure white hair?”
​
Still no response.
​
“Grey eyes, like, unnaturally grey eyes? Literally has pointed ears?”
​
Silence.
​
“Looks incredibly beautiful? In like, an unnerving and unnatural kind of way? Incredibly charismatic?”
​
“How do you know all of this on the first day?” he finally responded. “I didn’t even know there was a kid with white hair at all.”
​
“I’m observant.” She smirked, then glanced at the clock above the door and jumped.
​
“Oh! I have to get going,” she said. “Can you give me your phone number? My brother is a witch, too, and I'm sure he'd love to meet you, if that’s okay. And we definitely need to introduce ourselves to that faerie next time our class meets!”
​
She gave him her phone. He put in his number and name and handed it back to her. She took it from him and looked at the screen.
​
“Isaac, huh?” she asked after she glanced at his contact information. “My name is Iris.” She turned her attention back to the phone and muttered, more to herself than to him. “I’m sure my brother is going to be so excited to meet you, too!”
​
---
​
It was sunny days that often drove Ifrit from his house to feel more sociable. Or rather, he wanted to be around other people, but he didn’t want them to talk to him. It was for this very reason that he had gotten out of the house today and made his way to a quiet café. There were often students from the nearby college working on homework throughout the day, so Ifrit felt he would fit in well as he studied and did some more research on his work. He ordered a black coffee and sat down at one of the booths, facing the doorway as usual.
​
He found himself fitting in nicely with the other guests, but noticed when a strange-looking, lanky figure walked in. He looked to be around Iris’s age with stark white hair. His eyes lingered on Ifrit. Something seemed entirely unnatural about him, and curiously, Ifrit met his gaze and raised an eyebrow. The stranger broke eye contact and proceeded to order.
​
Ifrit saw him walk towards where he was sitting and knew he would sit at the booth behind him. Sure enough, the stranger did, so that their backs were only separated by the cushioned chairs between them. Ifrit sighed, thinking he might know what had happened.
​
“Did I accidentally summon you?” he asked quietly, still hunched over his work, but positive that the white-haired boy heard him. Books full of summoning rituals and sigils were, in fact, scattered directly in front of him.
​
The stranger turned his head. “What? Are you talking to me?” he asked, only a few decimals louder.
​
“Well you’re the only faerie here, aren’t you?”
​
Instantly, the stranger stood up and grabbed his belongings. He walked over and slumped down into the seat across from Ifrit. His expression was intrigued and somewhat worried. Ifrit watched carefully, though he was still bent over his work with a pen in his hand.
​
“You know?” he asked, his tone a bit quieter than it had been.
​
Ifrit straightened up calmly and looked the boy up and down. Puzzled as to why he would even ask such a question, he gestured towards him as he answered, “It’s obvious. You don’t even have a glamour on; I can see your ears. Your eyes are silver.”
​
Defeated, the boy fell back into the seat, albeit a bit dramatically. “You know, I met this faerie a while back who suggested— no, insisted— that I wear glamours. She said, ‘Thomas, you’re not careful and you’re gonna get found out by some nosey human who has read too many fantasy novels, they’re gonna find you out and it’s gonna suck,’ and I said there was no way!” Ifrit was looking back at his books now, fidgeting with the pen in his hand, as the monologue continued. “I said people aren’t perceptive enough. They don’t care that much. They’re not curious, you know?” He kept going.
​
Ifrit had ignored most of his ramblings, but he did softly repeat the name “Thomas,” as though he knew it might be important to actually remember it. When Thomas had stopped talking and there were a few beats of silence, Ifrit chimed in coolly.
​
“Even without your ears and eyes giving you away,” he said, “you ordered the sweetest beverage on the menu and you’ve got five sugar packets in front of you.”
​
Thomas looked offended, but also impressed. “I guess anything is obvious if you know what to look for,” he remarked. “If you’re so observant, what do I have in my pockets right now?”
​
“More sugar packets.”
​
Thomas gaped. “How did you--?!”
​
Ifrit rolled his eyes and, strangely, began closing his books. “I saw you shoveling them into your pocket. It’s a bit rude to the employees, taking that many, if I’m honest. Though I don’t suspect you care too much.”
​
The faerie shook his head, feeling strangely defeated. “I wouldn’t have taken so many if they also had those little honey packets.” He was using his hands to signify the size of the previously mentioned packets. “Those are way better.”
​
There was a subtle challenge in Ifrit’s eyes as he crossed his arms over the table, leaning slightly towards Thomas. “You faeries are all the same,” he said quietly, though he distinctly sensed something unique about the one across from him.
​
Thomas, quick to spot a challenge and matching it with his own, mimicked Ifrit’s body language. “Oh, you think so?” he asked, raising an eyebrow and grinning.
​
​
​
It took no time at all for Ifrit to get Thomas into his car, his house, and eventually, his bedroom. He was eager to let off some steam and pushed the faerie against the recently closed door, kissing him hard. It would be a while before Iris was home for the day and finding a faerie to fool around with was the best-case scenario of venturing out that he hadn’t expected.
​
Though he was caught off guard by the sudden aggression and force coming from Ifrit, Thomas was admittedly just as hungry. They made their way towards the bed, losing clothing as they did, and Ifrit pushed him roughly down first. For a moment, Thomas was able to see the décor and books making up the room. The reason Ifrit identified him so quickly as fey became clear.
​
“Oh,” he mused, “you’re a witch.”
​
“Stop talking,” Ifrit responded tenderly as he climbed on top of him.
​
​
When their passions had died down, Thomas took no time at all before he was tugging his clothes back on and gathering his bag.
“Well that was nice,” he said, “but I really should be going now.”
​
Thomas glanced back at Ifrit as he was pulling his boots on. He hadn’t bothered putting anything beyond his boxers back on. He was reclined on his bed, looking incredibly pleased with himself.
​
“Oh, good,” he returned casually, “I was worried I was going to have to kick you out.” He sat up and his hazel eyes were concentrating on Thomas’s grey ones with an intensity that made his heartbeat quicken. “Feel free to visit me whenever you want,” he said, “and I’ll make it worth your while.”
​
​
--
​
​
It was finally time for Isaac to return to the same class that he had previously met Iris in. The past week had been strangely serene, but Isaac wasn’t sure if it was because things were truly calming down or if he was in the eye of the storm. Either way, he was feeling better than he had been in a long time, both mentally and physically.
​
Iris and Isaac sat near each other and chatted—or rather, Iris chatted and Isaac listened attentively. She had a lot to say, but he was thankful it all sounded incredibly important to his own line of work. He briefly mentioned his job as a demon hunter alongside his brother and made a suggestion about her helping them track down more elusive species. She was thrilled with the proposal. He wasn’t too worried about other classmates overhearing since he was sure it must have sounded like they were discussing some fantasy game that they both played. Eventually, their conversation died down and class started.
​
Isaac looked around the class trying to spot the white-haired student that Iris had mentioned. They purposefully sat in the back so it would be easier to scope him out, but when the lecture began and the boy was still nowhere to be seen, he worried that they may be out of luck. When Isaac caught him slinking into the classroom a few minutes late, he felt relieved. Iris shook her head and made some comment about “typical faeries.”
​
​
​
When class ended, the two of them followed him into the hallway. He seemed completely unaware. With his larger strides, Isaac caught up so that he was walking on the right side of the boy, the wall to his left. He heard Iris softly clear her throat and noticed the janitor’s closet, its door cracked open, coming up on the boy’s left. When they approached it, Isaac slammed his shoulder into the other boy’s and successfully pushed him into the closet. Iris snuck in after them and closed the door, guarding it humorously with her short body.
​
“All right, who are you?” asked the boy, as though this were a common occurrence. He already had a silver blade gleaming in his right hand, poised to defend himself.
​
“Whoa, hey, we’re friends,” Isaac said, palms up. “I’m part angel and she’s a witch.” He pointed behind him and Iris waved.
​
After staring at the two incredulously, the boy relaxed a bit and rolled his eyes. “Why did you push me into a closet? Do you know how sketchy that is?” he barked at them.
​
Isaac pondered the question for a second. “Hey, yeah, why did we do that?” he asked, turning his attention to Iris. She shrugged.
​
“Seemed like the right thing to do,” she murmured. “Too many prying eyes out there.” Her own eyes became shifty.
​
The fair-haired boy straightened up and put his blade back into an unseen sheath in his boot. “So is this just like a little get-together for nonhumans?” he asked, still trying to figure out why they needed to talk to him so badly.
​
Isaac realized he didn’t have any answers and backed up, letting Iris take over.
​
“Well, I'm technically human,” she interjected, though it didn’t really matter. She remembered her purpose and continued. “I’m Iris, by the way! And his name is Isaac.” Isaac shrugged with his eyes closed. “I guess I just wanted to meet you. I always love meeting fair folk, and I hadn’t known Nephilim really existed until yesterday.” She was rambling again. “I just thought the three of us should get together and start a group, you know? Like a—”
​
“Band?” the boy asked, lighting up.
​
“Cult?” Isaac asked at the same time, raising an eyebrow.
​
“Study group.”
​
“Oh,” the two boys said in unison.
​
“What’s your name, by the way?” Iris asked.
​
“I mean, I obviously can’t give you my real name,” he smirked, puffing out his chest dramatically, “but people in these lands call me Thomas.”
​
Iris nodded. “You don’t really sound like most of the fey I’ve met before,” she recollected. “And I don’t entirely know why one would feel the need to go to college.”
​
Thomas shrugged and grinned, looking at her sideways. “I guess you’ve never met a changeling before,” he explained.
​
“Oh!” said Iris, knowingly.
​
“Huh?” asked Isaac, more confused.
​
“My parents are humans,” he explained. “Well, the couple who raised me, anyway. No blood relation. They don’t know I’m one of the fair folk. They just think I’m an exceptional human.”
​
“Sometimes the fey will swap human infants with their own babies. They like when humans raise them for a bit,” added Iris, still looking curiously at Thomas. “Though they usually take them back home after a few years, leaving the parents to think their child died unexpectedly.” She cocked her head. “What happened to your real parents?”
​
“Beats me, they probably died or something.” Thomas shrugged. “Nobody ever came back for me.”
​
Iris looked intrigued. Isaac looked bored. He was leaning against the door.
​
“Oh!” Iris exclaimed after glancing at the clock on her phone. “I didn’t mean to keep you for too long, I have to get going.”
​
The three of them exchanged their contact information and goodbyes. Before they could exit the room, however, a stoic janitor opened the door. He frowned when he saw them.
​
“You two can’t be in here,” he grumbled.
​
Iris blushed and apologized profusely. Isaac didn’t say anything. After a brief scolding, the janitor made sure they left the closet and then walked off.
​
Isaac looked around, confused.
​
“He said ‘you two’?” he repeated, unsure. “Where did Thomas go…?”
​
Iris snickered to herself and shrugged. “They do that sometimes.”
​
​
A few hours later, Isaac caught sight of Thomas, sitting alone at a table in a coffee shop, as he passed by on his way home. His white hair made him stand out, especially when coupled with the fact that he was wearing pale layers of flowy fabrics. Iris was right; he obviously looked like a faerie. Isaac didn’t usually feel socially inclined to talk to someone, but something about the boy intrigued him. He walked in, to his own surprise, and approached Thomas, sitting across from him at his booth.
​
The faerie looked entirely amused, sipping casually on some pale pink drink. It became obvious that he was waiting for Isaac to speak first.
​
“I just thought I should say hi, I guess,” Isaac said, answering the question in Thomas’s curious eyes. The faerie grinned and stopped sipping on the drink. He leaned closer to the table, crossing both of his arms over it.
​
“That’s weird,” said Thomas.
​
Isaac sighed and agreed. “I guess I’m curious about your kind,” he admitted. “Iris seems to know a lot more about faeries than I do, and she’s human.”
​
“She’s a witch,” Thomas corrected. “Witches work with the fair folk all the time. Angels usually don’t bother to.” There was a bitterness in the way he spoke. His head was cocked slightly to the left. Isaac noticed the tips of his pointed ears sticking out from under his fair curls.
​
“I think you could be useful,” Isaac said dryly, matching Thomas’s intensity with his own eyes. He softened after a moment. “Besides, I have some questions. Like, what do faeries drink?”
​
Thomas caught Isaac staring at the pink drink in front of him. He slid it over to him and smirked, eyes narrowing.
​
Isaac hesitated for a moment before lifting the drink up to take a sip. His face contorted immediately with disgust as he spat it out, coughing, aware that others must be staring at him now.
​
“That’s disgusting!” he exclaimed. “It’s so sweet, it tastes like liquid sugar.”
​
Thomas was snickering to himself as he pulled the drink back and took a sip. Isaac was strangely glad to see him expressing genuine joy.
​
“Seriously,” Isaac continued, “there was just undissolved sugar at the bottom.”
​
“That’s the best part,” Thomas responded with a wink.
​
“If this is what you drink, what do you eat?” Isaac asked, looking genuinely concerned.
​
“Mainly sweets,” he said. “Candy, nectar, honey, fruit… That kind of stuff.”
​
Isaac brought his eyebrows together. “How are you alive?”
​
“How are you alive?” Thomas inquired dramatically, pointing at him accusingly with the hand that held his drink.
​
“Honestly, I can’t get over how disgusting that is,” continued Isaac, ignoring Thomas’s previous comment and pulling his wallet from his back pocket. “I need to cleanse my palette.”
​
After a few minutes of waiting at the counter, Isaac returned to the booth and idly placed the wallet and his drink on the table. He was somewhat surprised to find that Thomas was actually still there. Part of him assumed he would have vanished by now, as if he were truly a figment of his imagination.
​
“Are you a coffee or a tea kinda guy?” questioned Thomas.
​
Isaac felt that his inquiry held weight.
​
“I prefer coffee.”
​
Given what was apparently the wrong answer, Thomas sneered and leaned back.
​
“Of course you do.”
​
As Thomas proved to be easier to talk to than Isaac had previously anticipated, the two of them ended up chatting for quite a while. Despite the fact that he still felt as though Thomas didn’t trust him, or even like him that much, he was incredibly sociable and derived a lot of enjoyment from their conversation, or at least appeared to. When he thought about it himself, Isaac wasn’t sure if the kinship he felt was artificial or not. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to talk to Thomas because of what he was, or because of who he was. It didn’t hurt that Isaac knew Jonathan wouldn’t be home that night, and the thought of going home to an empty apartment wasn’t sitting well with him at the moment. Either way, it wasn’t a pressing matter, and Isaac found himself genuinely engrossed in their conversation.
​
The sky outside was darkening. A strange feeling crept up on Isaac as he worried he was forgetting something. He pulled out his phone and glanced at the clock before realizing that time had flown by without him noticing.
​
“Oh!” he blurted out, realizing he had less than an hour before he was supposed to be at Sam’s house. “I almost forgot I had plans tonight, I’m sorry, I have to go.”
​
Without a second thought, Isaac grabbed the now empty drink on the table and headed towards the door, tossing it as he passed by the trash on the way out. Behind him, he distantly heard Thomas say something along the lines of “forgot something,” and rolled his eyes at what he assumed was Thomas making fun of his own carelessness for losing track of time.
​
​
--
​
​
“Hey, Isaac! I’m glad you came, I was waiting for you!”
​
Sam was sounding much more cheerful and friendlier than usual when she greeted Isaac at her door. Despite the fact that Isaac had agreed to come days ago, Sam still seemed genuinely surprised to see him. She gestured for him to some in, colored lights dimly illuminating the house as upbeat music mixed with the chatter of a couple dozen college kids.
​
“Well,” he pondered, “I didn’t think you had so many friends.”
​
Sam lightly hit him on the shoulder. “My roommates are a lot more social than I am; I don’t actually know everyone who’s here.”
​
He was about to respond when a figure approached them; a flushed blond-haired boy that Isaac vaguely recognized from one of his classes. He tried recalling his name, thinking it must have started with a J.
​
“Hey man! You’re in our class, aren’t you?” he asked, obviously slurring his words.
​
Isaac nodded.
​
“Come drink with us, dude! There’s a few more of us over there,” he gestured widely, spilling a bit of the beer in his hand as he did so.
Isaac’s eyes followed his movement and found a group of barely familiar faces waving back at him. He briefly looked back to Sam, who gave a thumbs up before spinning around and heading her own way to greet more guests. With a shrug, Isaac followed the boy back towards his friends.
​
The small group proved to be incredibly welcoming and seemed excited to have a new person join them. The boy, whose name ended up being James, introduced everyone, but only a few names really stuck. A dark haired girl with dark eyes— Isaac recalled her name being Ally— was bringing back drinks for everyone. After a while, when Isaac was sure he was as drunk as the rest of them, they started giving out dares to each other. Though it felt strangely juvenile, Isaac couldn’t help enjoy himself as he watched the chaos.
​
Most of the dares consisted of either drinking copious amounts of alcohol in a short period, eating something unpleasant, or mildly pestering the other party guests. Amongst the laughing and chattering that resulted from the most recent challenge, Isaac caught Ally staring at something behind him. She looked strangely sober for a moment, but then fell back into laughter when she caught Isaac looking at her. She grinned and narrowed her eyes at him.
​
“It’s your turn,” she said.
​
Isaac listened patiently, awaiting the task. He saw her signal behind him and point to two girls, chatting and laughing by themselves.
​
“You see the red-headed one?” she asked. “I want you to take her drink by any means necessary. See if you can do it without her noticing or getting too mad.”
​
This was a strangely cohesive dare when compared to the others. Isaac nodded and stood up. He made his way over to the two girls and, with the angelic charm he knew he had, softly put one hand on the red-head’s face. She blushed at him.
“I’m sorry,” he said, “but they dared me to kiss you. Is that all right?”
​
She giggled and nodded, her eyes flickering to her friend for a moment before going back to him. He leaned in and kissed her, slowly sneaking his other arm up to grab the drink. She hardly noticed when he took it away from her. They broke apart and he looked at the group, who were all excitedly hooting, as he raised the drink and took a sip.
​
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?!” a voice rang out as a large, athletic-looking boy approached Isaac, his hands balled into fists.
​
The red-headed girl behind them spoke up. “Liam, relax, it’s fine,” she said.
​
Liam didn’t even look at her when she spoke, but he seemed to be visibly nervous. Isaac straightened his posture.
​
“Give her back her drink,” Liam said, strangely flustered.
​
Isaac raised an eyebrow, not having expected the request. He looked at the cup in his hand and then immediately downed the entire thing. Once it was empty, he handed it back to the girl. She peered inside and froze.
​
The larger boy swore and swung at Isaac, but he easily avoided him. The brief commotion drew in a small crowd to see what was happening, and while more people gathered, two more boys in particular looked as though they were ready to jump in.
​
“Do you need help?” the taller of the two asked Liam, who snorted and nodded.
​
“We’ve got your back, dude,” mumbled the shorter one as they both swiftly and forcefully grabbed Isaac’s arms.
​
Already intoxicated and now restrained from protecting himself, Isaac could only look up at the onslaught of fists and kicks coming his way from the leader. He braced himself, trying to not flinch from the hits, and he was succeeding until Liam punched his stomach, hard. The wind got knocked out of him and he crumpled for a moment, hanging his head as the two other goons held him up by his arms. Liam struck him again right on the cheek. Isaac felt another wave of warm pain flush through him. He could taste blood in his mouth. Forgetting he was around other people, he looked up at Liam, his irises glowing an iridescent gold, standing out brilliantly against the dimly lit room. Liam hesitated when he saw them and blanched.
​
With all the strength he had, Isaac slammed his head back into the face of the taller boy who was holding him. He heard a crack and a quick shriek as the boy recoiled, holding his now bleeding nose with his hands, shaking slightly out of shock. The crowd around them was growing but remained quiet with soft gasps or mumbles. The shorter boy was distracted by the previous event, making his grip weak enough that Isaac easily ripped his other arm away from him.
​
Before his main attacker had any time to react, Isaac was on him in a blur. Liam was pinned against the wall behind them, Isaac’s hand gripping his neck tightly. Though he was likely twice Isaac’s size, Liam couldn’t free himself. He clawed at the hand with his own, choking and trying to speak. Isaac only responded by tightening the grip and narrowing his eyes.
​
“Isaac! What the hell are you doing?!” shouted a familiar voice.
​
Isaac blinked, as if coming back to reality, and dropped Liam. He crumpled immediately onto the ground, his hands gingerly finding his own neck as he sputtered and coughed. Isaac heard the crowd behind them muttering softly. He felt dozens of wide eyes staring at him, but most importantly, he saw Sam heading towards him. To his surprise, the first thing she did when she approached them was kneel down by Liam. She spoke to him gently. He seemed angry, but dismissive, when she showed him concern. After deciding Liam wasn’t too injured, Sam rose and glared at Isaac. She grabbed his wrist tightly and pulled him after her, dragging him outside of the house through the crowd of ogling bystanders.
​
When the two left the warmth of the crowded house, Isaac immediately began to apologize, trying to recount the parts of the fight that Sam might have missed. In response, she only raised a hand to cut him off.
​
“I don’t want to hear it,” she said. “I’m going to go make sure Liam gets taken care of and then I’ll be back out here to take you home.” She sighed. “I’m pretty sure I’m the only sober one here.”
​
Isaac wasn’t sure if the last part was for him or something Sam was saying to herself. He decided to accept his fate and sat down, his feet hanging off of the small front porch. Sam disappeared back inside. He felt a trickle of blood drip down from his mouth and wiped it away with the back of his hand.
​
After what felt like a couple minutes of waiting, Isaac began to feel heavier than usual. He swallowed, wondering if he drank more than he previously thought he had. He blinked a few times, as if it would ward off the new grogginess he was feeling, and noticed himself swaying slightly.
​
There was a soft, familiar laugh coming from the side of the house. “Did you get kicked out or something?” asked the voice, though Isaac couldn’t see where it was coming from.
​
Despite feeling incredibly ill, curiosity got the better of him as he stood up and wandered slowly towards the source of the voice.
​
--
Sam closed the front door and took a moment to collect herself before finding Liam. With a determined inhale, she turned and headed back towards the crowd of people, still murmuring and discussing the fight. She looked around briefly to try and find the two boys that Isaac had assaulted and, upon succeeding, made her way over. Katie, a red-headed girl Sam had only met once before, cut her off before she could reach the injured guests. She looked troubled and had an empty cup in her hand.
​
“You should be kicking those guys out,” Katie stressed, nervously gesturing for Sam to look inside the cup.
​
Sam peered in and her eyes widened. At the bottom of the small cup was a powdery residue. She met the worried expression on Katie’s face.
​
“Are you okay?” Sam asked anxiously.
​
“I’m not the one who drank it.”
​
Katie brought Sam up to date on what had really happened. She explained that she didn’t really drink in general, but Liam had insisted she take a drink from him, so she had been holding onto it to get him to leave her alone. She blushed when telling Sam about Isaac taking the drink and the proceeding fight that broke out, up until Sam breaking it up. When she was done, Sam was glaring behind her, shooting daggers from her eyes at the three boys that had been involved.
​
Sam skulked up to Liam, still sitting on the ground, and punched him square in the face before shouting at him to leave and never bother any other girl ever again. A few other guests tried to intervene, but once Sam explained that Liam had tried to drug Katie, they started scolding him too.
​
Unrepentant, Liam and his friends shouted profanities at them while they left. Sam heard James ask quietly if he should call the cops on them. Sam shrugged, but eventually shook her head. That’s when she remembered a potentially drugged Isaac was still sitting outside, waiting for her.
​
The thought nearly made her jump as she quickly made her way back outside. She looked around, but didn’t see Isaac sitting anywhere on the porch. She called for him, heard nothing, and decided to wander around to find him. She knew he couldn’t have gotten very far.
​
It didn’t take long before she saw him. He looked like he was kneeling on the ground, but when Sam drew closer, she realized he wasn’t alone. A strange girl with long brown hair was holding his face in her hand, delicately, as she gave him a small kiss. She looked up, bemused, when she noticed Sam watching her.
​
“Who are you?” Sam demanded.
​
The authority in her voice made the other girl laugh. “I’m Eden. I’m here to take him home.”
​
“He’s not feeling well,” Sam observed.
​
“I’m aware,” Eden grinned, carefully watching Isaac in his altered state.
​
Sam continued, her eyes narrowing. “And I’ve never heard of you before. I hope you understand why I can’t just let him leave with you.” Her voice was strict.
​
A certain sadness crossed over Eden’s face; it resembled that of a pouting child's. Isaac blinked and perked up slightly as though he had just woken up. He tilted his head towards his shoulder but couldn’t make himself look all the way behind him to where Sam was standing. He called out her name, hoarsely, with an inflection that made it sound more like a question. The action made Eden cringe and she quietly retreated from Isaac.
​
Sam knelt down towards him to help the boy up off of the ground. He was still mumbling apologies.
​
“It’s okay,” she reassured him, only noticing now that Eden was nowhere to be seen. “I know you didn’t do anything wrong.”
​
With the help from one of her roommates, Sam successfully moved Isaac to her bedroom and made sure he was safely tucked into her own bed. She pulled a small trashcan next to him, just in case, and was about to return to her guests when Isaac’s hand shot out and weakly gripped her wrist. She looked from his hand to his face with a quizzical expression.
​
“I-I’m sorry, Sammy,” he slurred, his eyes struggling to stay open. “Can you stay here? Please?”
​
She nodded and his hand fell from her wrist. He curled up, shivered slightly, and then immediately fell asleep. Sam stood for a little while longer, watching him. Isaac was always so serious and composed when he was awake. There was a foreign softness that crossed over his face now. He looked peaceful.
​
Sam could have snuck out, knowing Isaac would probably be asleep for a good eight hours, but she felt strangely compelled to keep an eye on him throughout the night. She crossed the room and sat up on the other side of the bed, looking at him curiously as she did so. Suddenly feeling strange for staring at her friend for so long, Sam looked away. She grabbed one of the books on her nightstand and read until the noise died down.
​
As the commotion downstairs faded, she felt her own eyes getting heavy. Isaac was still out cold, so she decided to turn out the lights and go to sleep herself, making sure to leave plenty of space between them. Unlike most nights, Sam fell asleep right away.
​
---
​
Staring at the ceiling of his room Thomas contemplated whether or not to keep trying and failing to sleep, or if he should just get up and do something more interesting with his time. He knew he had been in his bed for a while now, digesting the events of the past week as they replayed in his mind. He thought about Iris and Isaac cornering him in a janitor’s closet earlier that week. While Thomas had immediately grown fond of Iris’s positive energy, he was still on the fence about whether he liked the angel or not. Something about the way Isaac spoke to and looked at him made him feel he was genuinely interested in what he was saying, but didn’t consider him an equal. The thought made Thomas scrunch up his face.
​
Typical celestials, he thought, shifting as he rolled over in bed.
​
The moon shone brightly as clouds outside passed by, illuminating the carefully clustered furniture within Thomas’s room. He found himself staring at a chunk of amethyst amongst the various knickknacks. Iris’s face popped into his mind and he began to piece together why she had seemed so familiar. Grinning, he couldn’t wait to see her reaction and imagined how her small face might shift from confusion to shock when it was revealed that he had already met her brother.
​
Thomas readjusted again. This time, he was only still for a moment or two before he finally sat up, hands shooting up to rub his temples, as he decided that sleep was not going to come easily tonight. After he finally got out from under his warm covers, Thomas hastily got dressed and snuck outside. He locked the door behind him and he casually stuffed his hands in his pockets, brushing Isaac’s wallet with his right hand as he did so. He had left it behind at the café earlier, and Thomas was still deciding whether or not he was going to return it or play dumb about the missing item. As he headed towards the forest, Thomas hoped the fair folk there would provide some company throughout the night. He knew they hid under the roots and hills until dusk, but perhaps tonight they would show themselves a couple hours earlier than usual. He was feeling optimistic, and maybe a little stubborn.
​
Before he could reach the forest, however, Thomas had to walk through the city and decided to take the route that led directly through downtown. The area was always buzzing with drunk college students and similarly friendly crowds that were eager to pass time with a stranger. The night clubs and bars were emitting low grumbles of upbeat music as he passed by. A group of drunk sorority girls passed by and shouted at him for having “like, really cool hair!” Thomas winked at them and they giggled before disappearing into one of the neon-lit buildings. He briefly considered going into one of them himself, maybe borrowing some of the money in Isaac’s wallet, but he had his heart set on hearing stories tonight from the fey. Either way, the constant noise was nicer to walk through than silence.
​
An incredibly intoxicated man tore Thomas away from his thoughts when they slammed shoulders. Thomas recoiled slightly, stopped walking, and turned to look at the livid stranger in front of him. The man, though slightly shorter, was much larger than him and started to shout angrily. He looked as though he was squaring up, puffing out his chest as Thomas narrowed his eyes at him. He didn’t have the patience tonight.
​
The stranger pointed a stout finger at Thomas, poking him aggressively in the chest as he did so. Thomas inhaled slowly and looked at the drunk in the eyes, focusing. When he looked back at his pointed finger, a tarantula was crawling on it, tickling the skin beneath it. The man yelped and pulled back his hand, shaking it viciously as he looked around for where the spider had gone as he completely forgot his aggressions towards Thomas. Taking advantage of the situation, Thomas turned and slunk away from him. He heard soft laughter from a small group of friends and looked in their direction. They were watching him and had likely seen the entire event, minus the imaginary tarantula.
​
“Man, he must have been really drunk,” one of the girls in the group scoffed.
​
Thomas shrugged and grinned, noticing he had involuntarily stopped walking and was standing a few feet away from them, staring at the girl who spoke. He couldn’t help it; she looked stunning in her tight dress, long hair, and intimidating green eyes. He always had a soft spot for beautiful things. Yet, there was something beyond that that he couldn’t put his finger on. Her visage looked as though it was concealing a more somber expression underneath. Her eyes looked sad, perhaps disappointed.
​
As she noticed his eyes lingering on her, she turned to her friends and whispered something he didn’t quite catch. Another one whispered something back, she nodded, and suddenly they were waving, leaving to go into the nearby bar. She remained outside and closed the distance between them.
​
“Hey,” she said. “Do you want to get out of here?”
​
Thomas flushed slightly, caught off by her forwardness. When he regained his composure, he nodded and grinned. She looked at him intently, silently, before returning his smile, as though confirming something for herself by doing so. She told him she had an apartment nearby and he followed her. They briefly introduced their names— hers was Eve, he recalled her saying. It was strange for him to change his mind so quickly since he had been set on trying to find the fair folk, but he didn’t feel as though he could turn her down when her eyes were so piercing. He had to admit, almost everything about her was incredibly alluring.
​
“Why do you smell like him?”
​
Though he had been preoccupied by his thoughts, Thomas could have sworn he heard her say the phrase, so quietly it was barely a whisper, under her breath. Noticing how strange and dizzy he was feeling, however, and the fact that not far from them was an atmosphere full of noise, he figured he must have imagined it.
​
Before they made it to the apartment building, desire got the better of them and in an instant they were attached by the mouth, loudly stumbling around outside until they reached an alleyway between two dark, quiet buildings. They broke apart briefly and Eve pulled him around the corner. She looked fragile and small between his body and the wall. A thought formed in his mind and he remarked silently on how the cool night air was continuing to cling stubbornly to Eve’s hands and face. It wasn’t unusual, but he wondered how long she had been standing outside in such little clothing. His own face felt hot and flushed.
​
Thomas shivered slightly as Eve tugged off the outer layer of his clothes, tossing his jacket and scarf aside. They were slowly making their way to the further from the opening. There was nobody around to see them, but something in Thomas’s gut wasn’t sitting right. As they kissed, he slowly moved his hand from her cold cheek to the back of her neck, her long hair tangling in his fingers. The skin was cold there, too. He forced himself to act casual as he inched his other hand over her chest.
​
No heartbeat.
​
She bit his lip as he went to pull away. He jolted and swore, both from the slight pain and the realization. Gingerly, he raised his hand to his lip. His fingers came away red. She licked her lips.
​
“Was that too hard?” she asked innocently, looking up at him with her striking eyes.
​
Eve saw the expression on his face and in an instant knew he had found her out. The naïve expression on her face melted away. She was fast, but in that moment, Thomas was faster as he ducked away from her grip before she had time to tighten it. He vanished in thin air.
​
In reality, Thomas had simply turned invisible, and the second he saw Eve whip her head around to try to find him, he darted away as quickly and as quietly as possible. He knew his footfalls could be deadly silent if he tried hard enough; it was the only reason he had been able to elude her. He was far from her now, but still heard her let out a loud frustrated outcry when she realized he was gone for good.
​
Abandoning the idea to visit the forest, Thomas hurriedly headed home, shivering against the night air without his scarf and jacket. Once he made it, he closed the door, locked it, and spun around, letting his back slide down until he felt the floor beneath him. His glamour wore off and he materialized. He suddenly swore at the loss of his favorite scarf and reflexively put his hand to his neck. For a moment he was still. Then he laughed humorlessly, understanding now why Eve had tugged it off.
​
From where he was on the ground, Thomas could see a glimmer in his boot from the blade he kept hidden there at all times. He pulled it from its sheath, allowing the familiar weight to calm him down as he turned it over in his hand. Curiously, he replayed the previous events in his mind, wondering what would have happened if he tried to fight back, but somehow knew he would have lost against her. Something about Eve seemed ancient and far more dangerous than other vampires he had known in the past. Thinking about her eyes chilled him to his core.
​
Shaky hands pulled out the phone in his pocket. He turned it on and winced slightly at the sudden brightness of the screen. He thumbed through his contacts, scrolling to the E names, wondering briefly if he should share his experience. He held his breath and hovered over one name in particular, but exhaled and turned off the screen when he reconsidered.
​
Standing up and stretching, Thomas turned around to look at his door. He knew there were protective runes carved all throughout his apartment and felt a safe solace in looking at them. He found himself yawning and realized that the excitement had exhausted him. He smiled to himself at the recognition of newfound sleepiness. He accomplished his goal to tire himself out, after all.
​
Thomas repeated his sleep routine and crawled into bed for the second time that night. It felt remarkably more comfortable than he had remembered, and within moments, he found himself drifting peacefully to sleep.
​
​
It wasn’t long before Thomas jolted awake to the buzz of his phone on the nightstand. He grumbled and lazily turned over, grabbing and answering it with one hand. Before he could get a word in edgewise, a panicked voice came from the other side.
​
“Are you okay?!”
​
Thomas pulled the phone away for a moment and squinted at the bright screen. It was Iris, calling him at six in the morning.
​
“Yeah,” he said groggily. “Why, what’s up?”
​
He heard a sigh of relief from the other side.
​
“I found your clothes— or, I thought I did. Outside an alleyway. They just looked like something I thought I saw you wearing the other night.” She sounded much calmer now, but still shaken. He found himself smiling at the concern she must have had for him. Or maybe he was smiling because his favorite scarf was not a lost cause anymore.
​
“No, you were right, they’re mine,” he explained. “I thought I had lost them, I’m really glad you found them.” He squinted at the time again. “Why are you out this early, anyway?”
​
He could all but hear her shrug. “I had a spell to do at dawn. I don’t mind mornings; I like watching the sunrise.” He heard her shuffle slightly over the speaker. “But why are your clothes just out here on the ground all willy-nilly? I thought you got abducted or something, it’s really sketchy.”
​
“You ask too many questions,” he said gravely.
​
She was silent.
​
“I’m just kidding,” he backtracked, more lightheartedly. “It’s actually a wonderful and exciting story. It was full of romance and danger!” He made a dramatic fist in the air, despite knowing she couldn’t see. “I might tell you some day. Or I might not. I haven’t decided yet.”
​
He imagined the excited face she must have been making. “Whoa,” she said, in awe. “I’m really glad you’re okay then, Thomas!”
​
He nodded-- again, to nobody. “I know, it was close. But it takes a lot more than a couple of vampires to shut me up!” He spoke theatrically, knowing exactly what he was doing as he heard her gasp in response.
​
“Oops, I’ve said too much,” he finished saying before he hung up.
​
Proud of himself, and somewhat thrilled that he had someone new who cared about him, Thomas rolled back over and fell asleep.
---
​
​
Sam awoke to an empty bed. She jumped up, immediately concerned, until she noticed the bathroom light was on. The door was cracked, revealing Isaac standing in front of the mirror, staring at himself as he leaned forward and tilted his head in various directions. He noticed her looking at him and gave a weary smile before walking back over to the bed. He must have just woken up.
​
“What happened last night?” he asked, gesturing to the new bruises and cuts that had formed on his face and body. “I look horrible. I hope I won.”
​
She laughed, relieved that he was feeling better. She told him what happened the night before and Isaac lit up with every new detail.
​
“Oh,” she continued, “and your girlfriend stopped by. She was trying to take you home.”
​
Isaac blinked blankly at her.
​
“My what?”
​
“Well, maybe I don’t know the right label,” Sam corrected herself. “Long brown hair, green eyes... I think she said her name was Eden?”
​
Isaac put his face into both of his hands and groaned.
​
“Why did you think she was my girlfriend?” he asked, one eye peering up at her.
​
Sam blushed. “Well, she was—” she cut herself off and paused, thinking carefully about her own wording. “You two seemed… Close.”
​
Isaac sighed and dropped his hands, looking up at the ceiling in an exasperated manner.
​
“Do you know who I’m talking about?” Sam asked, feeling strangely uncomfortable.
​
Her friend was silent for a while. He stared at a spot on the wall as he thought about what to say. Finally, he closed his eyes and let out another sigh.
​
“Yes,” he said. “It’s complicated, but she follows me everywhere.” He looked at her sideways. “I thought she would have left me alone last night since I was somewhere new.”
​
Sam was growing increasingly worried. “What, like a stalker?”
​
For some reason, the term made Isaac laugh. “That’s one way to put it,” he said. “Thanks for not letting her take me anywhere. I’m sorry if I caused any distress last night, but I really appreciate you taking care of me.”
​
He turned his face towards hers again and gave a genuine smile. “I hope I wasn’t too much trouble.”
​
“Not at all,” she said, resting her elbow on her knee and her cheek on her fist. “Like I said before, I’m glad you came.”
​
She returned the smile.
​
​