The book was a heavy weight on Casey’s lap as they bounced down Sanctuary Road’s washboarded dirt. Because he didn’t want to touch the elf-hide cover or the baby-skin parchment pages more than he had to, and out of a bit of sentimental concern for the children who’d lost their lives to make it, he’d wrapped it up in a small, fuzzy baby blanket from the thrift shop’s linens section.

  It was nauseating to think somebody had used the skins of Simon’s family members to create the thing. He wondered who they’d once been.

  Avery had napped for a few hours, though he still looked exhausted. Next to Avery, he slumped against the front door of Shana’s little Toyota Corolla, head resting against the glass, and he fiddled with the necklace. Casey fully expected him to collapse and sleep for days, sooner rather than later.

  Simon pulled an earbud out of one pointed ear, leaned forward from the back seat, and showed Avery something on his cell phone. “Your voice is amazing.”

  Avery brightened up. “Oh. You found me online.”

  “Shana gave me some links to look at.”

  Shana, driving, added, “I was showing him how social media works. Simon is picking up computers crazy fast.”

  “They’re fascinating.” Simon stared at the cell phone in his hands and then said, “If you were in my world, your voice would be renowned across the land. You’re as good as any of the king’s own musicians, and I have heard them all sing. I don’t say that lightly.”

  Avery stared at his hands, expression shifting to something more pensive. “Thanks.”

  Shana asked, “Simon, do you sing? Or any hobbies?”

  “Me? I’ve the voice of a crow.” Simon shook his head. “I draw. It’s encouraged for children who might have a Gift, because illusions are also a form of art.”

  Avery perked up a little and asked with curiosity, “What did you draw?”

  “People, mostly.” Now, it was Simon’s turn to stare off into space. “Lady Ellia destroyed my sketchbook as punishment for refusing to draw her. I haven’t drawn people since...” he trailed off. Then he rallied and added, “I still do scientific drawings and blueprints and so forth. I enjoy that.”

  Avery started to say something — probably a condemnation of Simon’s family.’ Casey said quickly and quietly, “Simon, you know you’re safe with us.”

  Simon didn’t say anything directly in response. Instead, he simply looked at Casey, green eyes intent, expression somehow softening.

  “And fuck her,” Avery added.

  Casey watched as Simon pressed his lips together in a hard line. He touched Simon’s arm. “Hey. If you ever want to talk about anything, I’ll listen. Or you could talk to Shana or Avery. Any of us.”

  “Yep,” Shana agreed as she turned the car onto the dirt of Sanctuary Road.

  Simon reached up, covered Casey’s fingers with his own hand, and nodded shortly. He said, in what was an unmistakable and deliberate change of subject, “I’m concerned about this blood mage. From what I’ve gathered from you three, Todd lacks empathy, likely as a naturally occurring trait. I’ve known men such as him. Did he also thirst for power?”

  “Yeah.” It was Avery’s turn to answer in a clipped tone. “Always.”

  Simon ran a hand over his face. “So, he is a power-hungry man who is not concerned about harming others. This is coupled with a willingness to use blood magic — that is, by definition, power drawn from the souls of tortured or recently deceased animals and people. My concern is that such men never reach a level where the power they’ve gained is enough while simultaneously being very charming.”

  “Oh, the last bit’s true. He’s not like Mark. He can be very charismatic when he wants to be.” Casey exchanged a look with Avery in the rear-view mirror.

  “He will harm more people, in more horrific ways, as time goes on. He’ll be a blight upon the land.” Simon shook his head. “He’s been in my world for a substantial amount of time. Is there any chance you have a photograph of him? I am wondering if I’ve crossed paths with him, perhaps before I was condemned.”

  “No. I’d be afraid that a picture of him would contaminate my phone.” Avery said this with a very visible shudder.

  “I do.” Casey pulled his own phone out. With a few swipes of his fingers, he’d found the video footage from the day that Shana had caught Todd shoplifting, and they’d trespassed him from the store. He showed Simon.

  “Oh.” Simon grew very still.

  “You recognize him?” Casey said.

  “He was one of the men Hunting me.” Simon ran a hand over his face. “I didn’t get a good look at most of them, but I did see him. His size is unusual, in my world, and it drew my attention. Importantly, the Hunt is a legal way for legal blood mages who work for the crown to collect power. That tells me he is openly operating as a mage.”

  “He was attempting to kill you?” Avery said, incredulous.

  “Or, merely draw power from my death as others slew me.”

  “Can I punch Todd in the nose as hard as I can when we find him?” Avery said, lips pressing into a thin, angry line. His voice was quiet, at odds with his words and his expression.

  “I’d prefer to simply kill him from a safe distance,” Simon said.

  “Are you an archer?” Avery asked, hopeful.

  “Not of any note, I’m a bit short, but I have taken out bandits with whiskey tainted by spell before,” Simon replied. At Avery’s shocked look, he added, “They were killing merchants on the road, had raped several women, and they were already convicted and condemned to death; they’d escaped during transport to the execution. I wouldn’t be averse to using similar tactics to deal with a blood mage. It seems safer than direct confrontation.”

  Casey said, “Are we even contemplating doing the isekai thing and going on a quest to a fantasy world? I’m not sure that’s realistic. I’m not going to pick up a sword and go charging into battle against an evil mage or some stupid shit like that. I’d probably be turned into a frog in the first ten seconds.”

  Shana said in a sing-song tone from the driver’s seat, “I think we know who would kiss you to break that spell.”

  Casey snorted. Next to him, Simon blushed to the tips of his pointed ears, then pulled something up on his phone. The elf had started Googling every Earth cultural reference or term he didn’t understand.

  Avery said with a little more energy than he’d shown before. “Tara will be stuck as a cat-creature forever if we don’t help her. That’s not fair to her!”

  Simon started to speak, then winced, likely because his words were counter to Casey’s wishes, and continued, “... and to that point, he’s likely to be causing considerable harm to my world. Casey, I do not blame you...” Here, he flinched more, then said hurriedly, “... if you don’t wish to go to Eastland. However, I’d like to be sent home, if for no other reason than to try to warn people of him. And, I owe Yienry. He ensured my survival. I’d like to ensure he’s freed from the geas.”

  “We’ll talk about it,” Casey promised, suddenly feeling guilty. Simon, five feet tall and all of eighty pounds, and with no magic at all, was willing to return to the world that had tried to kill him. Casey thought he really should be braver.

  Perhaps, reading Casey’s expression and guessing at his thoughts, Simon said, “It’s not your fight. I would not think ill of you if you do not wish to join me.”

  “But you’re my friend,” Casey said, and those simple words made Simon look up at him in startled wonder.

  “Called it,” Avery said from the front seat. “The paladin rides into battle.”

  He was referencing the shovel talk he’d given Simon a few days earlier. “Shut it, Aves. Like you’re not eager to join us over a girl. If we do this, we’ll be smart about it. I have no desire to get into trouble in the first few minutes. Simon, they’ll try to kill you if you return, correct?”

  Simon bit his lip, then said, “Yes.”

  “Can we remove the Hunter’s Mark?”

  “My mother would be the one to ask,” Simon said, tone bitter. He looked at the cloth-wrapped bundle in Casey’s lap. “But the Temple mages are very good, and they leave few weaknesses in their work. It would be easier to mask it than to remove it.”

  “... ah. Like some sort of shield?”

  “Or just a really strong null ring. Given our situation, there are a few huge drawbacks to nulls, but it would... we can talk about it later, Casey. Nulls aren’t technically hard to cast, though, and are one of the first spells a wizard learns. They do require a lot of personal effort.” They were turning into the Riley house’s driveway. It was just past dusk. Nothing stirred for a moment as they parked and climbed out. He wondered if Tara knew they’d arrived. “Technically, it is also legal to geasbind a Hunted man rather than kill him, as he becomes the property of his master and is no longer considered a person. It’s treated identically to death by the Temple. An argument could be made that I am no longer part of the Hunt since I am yours, but then you might need to defend your claim on me.”

  “Yes,” Casey agreed. “Let’s avoid having me duel some asshole over you, if we can.”

  Simon was the first out, buckling his sword belt as he stood up. He’d brought the weapon without comment, and given the massive weirdness of the last couple of weeks, Casey hadn’t objected. The elf looked around alertly as the others climbed out of the car.

  Then, Tara was simply there, standing a few feet away. Casey jumped. Shana squeaked. Avery looked less surprised than the rest, though he did jerk his head around to stare at her when the others reacted.

  Simon glared and said, “That’s rude, you know.”

  “What?” Casey asked blankly.

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  “She uses illusion and enchantment to avoid notice until she wants to be seen,” Simon’s tone was irritated. “Grimalkin thing.”

  “Perhaps,” Tara said, lips lifting up into a sly smile. “Or perhaps it is a Tara thing. I’m good at avoiding notice, though I’m surprised Casey didn’t sense me coming.”

  “He’ll get there. He learns incredibly fast.” Simon took a deep breath and visibly relaxed the fingers that had been clutching the hilt of his sword. Casey, watching, felt his Gift stir. There was something there that worried it.

  “You came,” Tara said to all of them. She sounded surprised.

  Casey looked up at her. She was so damned formidable in size, plus claws and fangs... Next to her, Simon seemed no larger than a child.

  Avery grinned at her. “Of course we did.”

  Shana said, abruptly. “Wow. Aves told me what to expect, but — wow.”

  Tara looked at Shana with mild confusion. “I know you from somewhere.”

  Shana said, “We went to junior high together — social studies and art.”

  Casey watched as Tara’s eyebrows pinched together. She was likely running through a mental list of the handful of kids she knew who resembled Shana, none of whom would have included a girl in those specific classes. Then her eyes widened as she figured it out. “Ah. You look good.”

  Shana’s mouth opened in mild surprise at Tara’s quick acceptance, and then she grinned at her, visibly relaxing. “Yeah. Thank you.”

  Tara nodded at the house. “I cleared a space out in the kitchen so we can talk inside. I’d make coffee, but I don’t recommend the stuff from the basement.”

  “Do you need fresh beans?” Avery asked eagerly. “I’ve got several pounds from this really good roaster in New York City.”

  At that moment, before she could answer, Mark’s truck turned into the driveway. Tara reacted by dropping to a crouch and freezing, one hand touching the ground and the other tucked tight to her chest. Her eyes widened, then narrowed, and her catlike ears pinned so flat that her hair almost hid them. Her tone was accusatory as she spat out, “What’s he doing here?”

  “I certainly didn’t invite him,” Avery said. “Want me to tell him to go away?”

  “It’s still his house,” Casey said. “I’m not sure we can.”

  “Oh, we can,” Tara said. Her upper lip curled up in a silent snarl and froze there.

  Simon gave her an alarmed look and edged away. Casey was still having zero luck reading her emotions, but the part of his Gift that identified threats was buzzing with a warning.

  Hey.” She ignored him. More firmly, Casey repeated, “Hey. Tara. Wait until after we close the deal on the house to eat Mark, okay?”

  Tara snapped her head around to stare at him. The look she gave him was far more offended than Casey thought that joke warranted. She snarled, “Do you really think I’m a monster? Really, Casey?”

  Casey took a quick step backward, holding his hands up. “Sorry, Tara. I was just joking.”

  “Yeah. People always say mean things to me.” Anger darkened her eyes. “I’m so fucking tired of it. You know the best thing about being alone out here? Nobody ever teased me. It was peaceful. Quiet. It was heaven.”

  Avery stepped between her and Casey. “Tara. Casey didn’t mean to upset you. He picks on everyone. It’s just how he is.”

  “It’s cruel.” She looked down at Avery. When her attention shifted from Casey, it was as if actual pressure had lifted. His shoulders sagged with relief. She sniffed as if she was about to cry. Her ears drooped. “And I hate it. I hate people who say mean things.”

  “Oh.” Casey blinked. With an awful, dawning suspicion, he said, “But I only tease people who like it.”

  “Who the fuck likes it?” Tara demanded.

  “I do,” Avery assured her. “Shana does. Most people do. He’s not mean about it. Half the time, he’s not even starting it; Shana is.”

  “Oh, don’t you dare pretend you’re innocent, Avery,” Shana said.

  “Tara,” Casey said very seriously, “if you don't want to be teased by me, that’s fine. I simply won’t.”

  “Tara, you were okay when I teased you—” Avery objected.

  Casey shot him a warning look. It didn’t matter. He suspected that she perceived Avery in a very different way from him. It could be as simple as Casey presenting as a jock and Avery being flamboyantly queer and, therefore, far less threatening to a woman who had been bullied their entire life by macho men. Avery subsided abruptly, but he still looked upset on Casey’s behalf.

  The truck parked, and Mark opened the door. Tara gave Casey one last warning look, then turned her focus to Mark. She was still crouched low, poised to leap, run, or pounce with lightning speed.

  Avery put a hand on her shoulder. “Tara, Casey’s point stands. We need to be nice to Mark until the deal’s sealed, but I’m right next to you. I won’t let him hurt you.”

  To Casey’s surprise, she didn’t shrug off Avery’s touch. She looked up at him, eyes widening. Avery patted her back reassuringly.

  Mark headed their way. “Here, kitty kitty!”

  “Fuck him,” Avery said, even as Tara made a noise suspiciously like a snarl.

  “Pspspsps c’mere kitty!” Mark, oblivious to the real danger he was in, was grinning ear to ear at his own humor. Tara reacted with a low growl. For the first time, Casey thought she might be dangerous.

  “Tara,” he said quietly, “He’s not entirely responsible for his behavior.”

  “I was told to excuse his behavior my entire childhood,” she said through gritted teeth. “The teachers wouldn’t do anything about him. They protected him. They told me I needed to feel sorry for him and that he didn’t mean to be awful. Nobody defended me. If he’s so disabled that he doesn’t know right from wrong, he needs to be locked up where he can’t hurt anyone. He tormented me my entire childhood.”

  “You’re not wrong. It was unfair.” Casey wished he’d tried a little harder to help her. “But he’s also, mostly, just an annoying insult machine on two legs. I’d tell you to ignore him, but I know that’s not possible when he gets up in your face.”

  “I heard all that,” Mark said, having reached them. He looked irritated. “You’re too sensitive, Fugly. I could say a lot worse to you if I wanted.”

  “One of these days, Mark,” Avery said, blue eyes hard and cold as ice, “you’re going to spew shit at the wrong person, and they’re going to beat the everliving fuck out of you.”

  Casey was reasonably sure Tara would be thrilled to do it.

  “It’s happened.” Mark seemed proud of this. “Sensitive bunch of snowflakes. I’m funny.”

  Casey said, “So am I, but the reason people laugh when I say things is that I’m laughing with them, not at them, and I stop if it bothers someone. Some people never like being teased, and nobody likes it all the time, or from certain people.” He gave Tara a significant look, then rubbed his mouth, took a deep breath through his fingers, blew it back out sharply, and said, “Mark, do you need something from the house? We can help you get it out.”

  “I wanna talk to Fug.... Tara.”

  “Fugly Tara wants nothing to do with you. Go away.” Tara rumbled deep in her chest and displayed a pair of short but strong fangs with an expression that held no resemblance to a smile.

  “Damn. That’s hot.” Mark leered at her. “None of these dudes here would know what to do with a woman.”

  Avery snapped, “I’ve had way more girlfriends than you, Mark.”

  Casey decided that ‘diplomacy’ was far too optimistic. He’d be happy if this ended without somebody decking Mark.

  Shana asked, “Has Mark ever had a girlfriend?”

  Mark retorted, “Have you, Shaney-boy?” His emphasis on the last word was deliberate, but Casey wasn’t sure if he meant the insult exactly like the others immediately interpreted it. With Mark, it was hard to tell.

  “Yes.” Shana stared at him, reaction deceptively calm. Beside her, Avery had gone from irritated to so angry that his neck had flushed red, though his makeup hid the color of his face. A vein popped out on his temple.

  Casey felt his own fists clenching as he struggled to keep his temper under control. He knew Mark had brain damage, but that didn’t mean calling a black transwoman ‘boy’ wasn’t going to get the very kind of violent reaction that Avery had just alluded to. Avery and Shana were fiercely protective of each other. Casey was, too, but hitting Mark would solve nothing; it would simply create a whole new set of problems. And, the man was not entirely responsible for his own mouth.

  Shana purred, “I’m engaged to my girlfriend.”

  “Shana, you know what? I’m not even sure that Mark likes girls. He groped me in seventh grade, and I punched him in the mouth for it.” Avery examined his purple fingernail polish for any imperfections.

  “That’s not true!” Mark’s voice hit a suddenly frantic note. “It’s not! Take it back!”

  “I seem to remember it was Mark who tagged the water tower with a cartoon penis. The hair on the shaft was a nice touch. He did a pretty good job.” Shana peered at her perfectly manicured nails, mirroring Avery’s pose. “Ever wonder why he always draws dicks on everything?"

  “Shut the fuck up! Shut it! That’s not true!” Mark threw his hands in the air. “I’m not!”

  “Somebody’s been leaving some fun graffiti drawn around all the potholes in town,” Avery pointed out. "It's fairly artistic. Same style as the water tower."

  “His truck even has hot pink balls,” Shana waved one hand at it. “He hung a sock on the hitch that looks like a droopy dong.”

  “Does it?” Avery said, sounding fascinated. “That’s new.”

  “He might have spent some of the money you gave him on the balls. Great accessory,” Shana purred.

  “They were cheap!” Mark protested. “I got them at a yard sale! They were only $5! You gave me a bunch of money!”

  “Oh, used truck balls. Even classier.” Shana smirked.

  “Okay, guys,” Casey interrupted, deciding they’d had enough time to satisfy their anger at Mark. Casey’s Gift and associated gaydar had a few things to say about Mark’s orientation, but that was Mark’s business. He wasn’t going to confirm or deny their insinuations because, coming from Casey, it would carry the weight of certainty.

  More to the point, he knew Mark could behave himself for short periods if it were required, so he didn’t feel too bad about their reaction. It just wasn’t productive to let it go on for long because the angrier Mark got, the less his very limited filter worked. It was impossible to haze him into submission.

  Also, they didn’t want to piss him off so much that he reneged on the deal to sell the house.

  Shana snapped her mouth shut. Avery started to say something, and Shana elbowed him. Good. Shana had remembered the bigger picture here.

  Mark took an alarmed step back as Tara pulled herself up to her full height. She loomed over him, staring down her long nose, fists balled, ears all the way forward. Casey realized with some concern that she’d merely been defensive before. Her stance was now far more threatening, and his Gift screamed a warning that a bad outcome was possible here.

  “What,” Tara said, voice a low rumble, “do you want from me, Mark?”

  “I gotta know what my brother did.” He stared up at her, chin jutting out. “I gotta know.”

  “You want to know?” Tara’s voice boomed, thunderingly deep and resonant, from the depths of her chest. “Because there’s video. I figured he’d be a nasty little shit, and I was recording everything on my phone when I delivered the fridge. Didn’t expect him to turn me into a monster. Did plan on posting his shittiness all over social media.”

  Mark said, “Oh.”

  “Yeah.” She pointed a clawed finger at Mark. “Let’s get this over with. I’m sure all of you are stupid curious, and I only want to do this once.”

  Avery and Casey chorused together, “You don’t have to!” with mutual horror.

  “Don’t let him-”

  “-bully you into-”

  “-anything you don’t want to do!”

  Casey wasn’t actually sure who’d said what, between himself and his brother. On this, he and Avery were in absolute unanimous agreement.

  Tara looked at them with her lips still twisted into a snarl, but the tiniest hint of amusement in her blue eyes. “One of the advantages,” she spat, “of being a monster is nobody can force me to do anything I don’t want to. Not anymore.”