I blinked slowly, my eyes heavy. It was dark. So dark. Like the darkness of the grotesque creature.

  I shivered at the thought and sat up slowly, stretching. My mind was fuzzy, and my limbs felt a bit heavy and clumsy. A bitter cottony feeling filled my mouth, and my throat felt so dry, it burned.

  That mist must have been a sedative. That guy… Wait! The only vampire houses are up near Duluth. What was he doing down near the twin cities?

  Frowning, I channeled my magic, twisting it into a small orb of light. The soft glow illuminated the small room. An unfamiliar bedroom, by the looks of it, just big enough to house the bed I was sitting on, a small nightstand with a lamp, and a closet. The closet door was partially open, and I could see several familiar large black-and-yellow containers. The containers were what we packed in when we moved.

  I turned on the lamp that rested on the nightstand, extinguishing the small magical light. Someone, probably my aunt, had arranged my phone and a glass of water beside the lamp

  I picked up the glass, studying it before drinking it. The glass was unfamiliar, just like the small room.

  Where am I?

  The door burst open and Aunt Bree flew into the room. I jumped at her sudden entry, nearly spilling water all over myself.

  “You’re finally awake,” she said, letting out an audible sigh of relief as she drew closer. “You had me worried sick. Are you feeling alright? Do you need anything? You look pale.”

  She pressed her hand against my forehead, checking for a fever.

  I rolled my eyes and cleared my throat. “Stop hovering. I’m fine. It was a sedative, not a poison.”

  “Then you won’t mind answering some questions?” A man asked.

  I looked up. A man stood in the doorway, holding a small notebook and pen. He was tall, with wild black curls, dark eyes, and dark skin. He wore jeans and a black sweater, and was about as old as Aunt Bree.

  “Really, Mr. Wilder?” she asked, turning to face him. “My niece only just woke up, and she’s been asleep for almost sixteen hours.”

  “I need to make this report, and the girl claims she is fine,” Mr. Wilder said, a hint of exasperation coloring his voice.

  “I’ll answer the questions,” I said, setting down my glass of water. “You’re making a report of the attack?”

  Mr. Wilder nodded. “I need to know everything you remember.”

  “There was a monster,” I started. “I killed it but released an airborne sedative that was trapped inside its body. Then a man came in. Maybe a little older than me, not wearing any visible symbols or crests, and a vampire. Then Aunt Bree threw a dagger at him, which hit his arm. Then he fled and I fell unconscious."

  “A vampire?” Mr. Wilder asked. “Are you sure? .”

  I nodded. “I saw his fangs and his eyes clearly. He was a vampire.”

  The silent implication seemed to loom over me, like a monster I could feel but not see.

  Vampires had to feed off the life sources of living creatures to survive. That’s where the human myth that vampires fed on blood came from. They also lived a very long time, four or five hundred years, just like fey. Their houses, tribe-like communities that rallied around a single, strong vampire family, were everything to them. And they were always looking for ways to increase their standing and power in the vampire world. So, when a vampire came knocking on another supernatural being’s door, be it fey, shifter, or magical human, it was for only one thing. Dinner.

  I was being hunted by vampires. Probably because they thought my life force was special in some way. Which meant I had become a target for a group of merciless, ruthless, lawless beings that would enslave me if given the chance.

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  I groaned as reality sank in. “I’m doomed.”

  “You are not doomed,” Aunt Bree said. “We’re staying here, in Brightcreek, at least until you turn eighteen. After that, we’ll go join a pack that can protect you.”

  Brightcreek was a supernatural settlement in South Dakota, a town in the middle of nowhere and the home of South Dakota’s main temple. I had heard of it, but had never visited. It was one of those places most people didn’t think twice about. I turned eighteen in just under a month. We would likely be safe enough here. As for the new pack…

  I forced a smile. “Great.”

  “It’s been years since we’ve stayed in a supernatural community for more than a few days,” Aunt Bree added. “It’ll be fun.”

  ***

  A month later, three days after my eighteenth birthday, Aunt Bree and I walked across the parking lot of South Dakota’s lunar temple. I was dressed in a simple white gown, my hair loose and my feet bare.

  The lunar temple was a large, grand building, filled with pillars and statues like Greek temples of old. It was all white, even the etched glass that displayed dazzling scenes from the holy book, and stood at the far end of the town of Brightcreek. Green mountains surrounded the space, hemming it in like a wall, and six gardens, each dedicated to one of the gods, surrounded the temple. Each garden contained a temple dedicated to its god. A chapel for marriages and such, a small library, and a large indoor fountain for ceremonies.

  The temple grounds were always filled with people, but today especially so. It was the full moon after all, the most holy day of the lunar cycle. Priests and priestesses bustling about their work, students relaxing between classes, pilgrims praying, and townspeople and visitors touring the gardens. And people like me, dressed in white, preparing for ceremonies.

  “Are you sure you want to do this in Thalyra’s temple?” Aunt Bree asked.

  I nodded. “It makes the most sense.”

  It was the first full moon after I turned eighteen. That meant it was time for my coming of age ritual, a sacred ceremony that would fully bring me into the faith as an official member of the Lunarethe.

  “We can still ask to have the ceremony in the temple of Kaelyndra or Eryndor,” Aunt Bree said, resting her hand on my shoulder as we made our way through the gardens. “Don’t feel you have to choose Tharlyra for me.”

  Usually the coming of age ceremony was done at the lunar temple of your region, in the temple of the god of your species. Those with mixed heritage who had inherited both parents’ magic, like me, picked according to their dominant magic. I was an anomaly, however, and possessed equal strength in both halves. I was too different from magical humans, but not enough of a fey or a shifter for anyone’s liking. A misfit, a being with powers that probably shouldn’t have existed.

  “I chose the goddess of shifters, Thalyra,” I said. “I have very little connections to my fey heritage, so it made sense.”

  As much as Lord Finne won’t admit it, I’m culturally more werewolf than fey.

  My magic tutor here at the temple had been extremely displeased with my choice. Though I was extremely displeased with him teaching fey mannerisms more than spell work, so our contempt for each other was about even.

  Aunt Bree nodded, and we joined a large group of shifters my age heading to Thalyra’s temple.

  I took in the gardens, filled with native trees and shrubs and flowers. Though the path was paved in flat, smooth river stone, Thalyra’s garden was designed to look like a forest. Fountains carved from smooth rock, stone and wood benches, and roughly hewn statues dotted the sides of the path as it wound around and branched off, giving the space a labyrinth-like feel.

  We reached Thalyra’s temple, a smaller version of the lunar temple, and filed inside. A gaggle of priests and priestesses directed the chaos of 60 or so 18-year-olds and their families. All wore green and white garb decorated with the first quarter moon, the color and symbol of Thalyra. All except one, who wore the bronze-colored garb decorated with waxing crescents. The garb of a priestess of Eryndor, god of fey. Next to her stood my temporary magic teacher, Lord Finne.

  What on earth are they doing here?

  The priestess, who was definitely fey with her height, pointed ears, and purple hair, caught my eye and smiled. She grabbed Lord Finne by the arm and dragged him over to me.

  “You must be Runa! It’s so good to finally meet you!” she said, her voice cheery. “I’m Priestess Lilana, and I serve Eryndor, god of fey.”

  “It’s… nice to meet you?” I said.

  “When my husband told me about you, I knew I had to come help with your predicament,” Priestess Lilana continued, ignoring my confusion and kissing Lord Finne on the cheek.

  Is she going to try to convince me to do the ceremony in her temple? And wait, is Lord Finne married to a priestess? How did I not know this?

  I could feel Aunt Bree tense behind me, angry. She also wasn’t a huge fan of Lord Finne. Not after he tried to lecture her on not giving me a proper fey upbringing, anyways.

  “I have the answer to all your problems,” Priestess Lilana fished two golden chalices out of a massive pocket in her priestess garb. “We’ll just kill two birds with one stone.”