I ignored Rafe’s insistence I could stay by pushing past him, taking the lead on the way to Onar’s farm. It did not look as impressively indifferent as I had intended it. It was yet another hot summer day and I simply could not keep up the pace, not without burning far more of my Metzus than I was comfortable with.

It did not take long for Eryn and Rafe to pass me by again. Only halfway there and I was already regretting going on foot. Onar’s farm was on the very edge of this little town, and then some. This was not the one hundred or so paces from the bunkhouse to the waterside. It wasn’t even the one hundred and fifty paces to Reya’s farm. It was closer to six hundred.

This was every bit the torture walking around in a city was for me. At least in a city there was a bustle of people that I could use as an excuse for my slow going. Here I did not even have that, and Rafe and Eryn were setting a brisk pace I could barely keep up with. This was why I had a horse. Because I was useless in the sun.

I reached for the amulet around my neck. It was the fourth day today, four days since I had last charged it. That would mean another recharge tonight, just for the simple privilege of being out in the sun like a normal person, just to stop my body from decomposing in the ambient Tonaltus projected by its rays.

It had been bad when I had taken this amulet off in front of Onar, so much worse than I remembered from that one time I had tried the same thing ten years ago. I had foolishly assumed the consequences would be similar. My experience proved that had been a faulty assumption.

Maybe it got worse every time I did it. Maybe it was the heat that had an effect. Maybe it was all these years pretending I was fine in the sun that had accumulated. The truth was, I did not know. There was far too much about me that I did not know. My dad knew a little, but in the end he had only ever fought things like me in Ostea, he could not help me on how to live as one.

I had no one else to compare to, no one else in this country to exchange experiences with. If there were others, they were just as well hidden as I had been. And even if I did eventually encounter something like me, chances were I would kill it on sight. No one fully trusted things like me, not even I.

Looking up, I noticed Rafe and Eryn were way ahead. With my wandering thoughts I had begun lagging far behind. Catching up would be impossible without them noticing my stumbling gait. I needed a distraction while I picked up my pace. Luckily, Rafe had given me just the thing. “Soooo… Rafe? Reya ran a what exactly?” I shouted after him, hinting at the sentence Rafe had not wanted to complete yesterday.

Rafe held in a step. Even from this distance, I could tell by the tension in the air he was sharing a glance with Eryn. Fear and worry charred Rafe’s scent. A hint of anger colored Eryn’s.

Rafe speak out of turn when he talked about Reya?

“Look…” Rafe hesitated, a slight quiver in his voice. It was the kind of hesitation that meant I was not going to get an answer.

“A gang?” I forced things with a wild guess. The spike in both Rafe and Eryn’s heartbeats served as confirmation. It really hadn’t been hard to narrow down the possibilities. There were only so many things you could run with the kind of abrasive attitude Reya displayed on a daily basis. It being half a secret, and Rafe telling me she had to be dissuaded from the notion that she ran Birnstead had further limited the options. Reya’s colorful swear on our first meeting had helped as well. There weren’t many civilized people here that used Sard.

“Ask her instead of fishing behind her back dear,” Eryn stated in Rafe’s stead. “She appreciates you. That’s rare, so don’t ruin it.” The finality in her tone classified the topic as closed.

Reya? Appreciating me?

The idea seemed preposterous, yet the more I thought about it, the more sense it made. She had been an abrasive, aggressive bitch. But at the same time, everything she did had been to help me, in her own strange way. She had even been downright honest with me, and had been the first person in Birnstead willing to give up Onar’s secret.

I smiled amiably at Rafe and Eryn to reassure them. Their answer had given me what I wanted. I would figure the rest of it out by speaking with Reya as Eryn had suggested. Besides, I could discern we were getting closer to Onar’s barn by Shae’s wildflower scent treading through the breeze. I was unable to spot her but could tell that she was working in the field somewhere to the left of me, together with Onar and that rude Chestnut-blood woman from yesterday. She had been the one that had gasped when Limn sat himself down next to me.

Eryn broke off, heading towards them.

Rafe stayed with me and merely held up his hand in greeting.

I mimicked the gesture but faltered halfway through it. Onar would not like me waving at him. After what I had done I wasn’t even sure if Shae still wanted to see me. She had been utterly terrified when her dad had attacked me, and that was before I had made it worse the next morning.

“Who’s that?” I asked Rafe to mask my awkwardness, gesturing in the direction of the Chestnut-blood.

“That’s Sulla. Her farm is over there,” Rafe pointed. I pretended to look where he was pointing. Wherever her farm was, it was too far away for me to make anything out. “She helps out on Onar’s farm some days, especially now that Onar’s lending a hand with the rebuilding.”

She helps out?

I carefully kept the confusion from showing on my face. Making all kinds of judgemental faces right in front of Onar was something I wanted to avoid right now. The man had trouble enough trusting me, without me displaying my dislike for what I had just learned.

Shae’d told me she had to run things on her own!

Why’d she lie about that?

Was that chestnut woman here as well the day I came back?

No, no, didn’t smell her then.

“Shae told me she had to run this farm on her own with Onar helping out in the rebuilding,” I could not help but ponder aloud.

I was so used to keeping things close. I did not think I would have been able to voice such doubts just days ago. Yet another weakness that was now showing through. Maybe it wasn’t so bad though. Trust went both ways after all. Reya’s words. They just kept on haunting me, perhaps because there was truth in them. I could only gain trust if I trusted others with my vulnerabilities in turn.

“I suppose to a twelve-year-old it might seem like that sometimes,” Rafe replied. “She thinks herself so grown up at times…”

Ah…

I’ve really allowed myself to be led along by a kid, haven’t I?

Twelve. Not eleven.

I missed her birthday.

“She… her dad’s attitude weighs on her, I think. If only she didn’t deal with it by pushing for conflict all the time. Eryn’s tried talking to her but…” Rafe did not finish the sentence, instead he waved his arms in defeat.

I frowned as Rafe’s halting explanation gave clarity to so many of Shae’s inexplicable acts. Rafe had touched on the subject before, but only now was I really understanding the scope.

Shae had been using me to get at her dad. Asking me to stay over for dinner, stabling my horse at the bunkhouse, rushing over to the bunkhouse that evening under the guise of feeding the pig. She had done all that on purpose because she knew it would get a rise out of her dad. That was all kinds of messed up.

I had trusted this girl, and she had used me. I had thought she had grown up in that half a year since last winter. Instead, she had…

No, can’t judge her on this.

Know too little.

After a brief discussion between Eryn and Onar the farmer headed our way. Without even sparing me a word, and with a constant cautious glare fixed on me, he led the both of us inside. Before we had even gotten to the table an argument broke out between Onar and Rafe. The quick back and forth of half-statements was so full of references to what I assumed were previous discussions, that it quickly became incomprehensible to me. So while the two men were engrossed in their exchange I cast a quick glance at the kitchen.

It looked almost exactly as I had left it last week. Almost. Onar’s counter had been mangled every bit as badly as Rafe’s table. Rafe had been right. I had done this. And I hadn’t even noticed. My thoughts shot back to that one moment, to Shae’s terrified look after she had asked me if I was a vampire.

Fear of me?

Or shock at the rents in the countertop?

I had been so sure back then that it was my reaction that had terrified her. What if it had been the sudden damage to the countertop that had spooked her instead.

My thoughts were interrupted by the sudden halt in the exchange behind me. Onar and Rafe were both looking at me. Rafe cautious and nervous, Onar… his gaze on me was the most awful sight to look at. He stared right through me, with eyes so hollow and full of resignation that it was painful to look at. Unwilling to face the man’s gaze I cast my eyes to the ground and quickly took a seat.

“Alright, you win,” Onar stated as soon as I looked up at him again. “The town is yours, and I can’t bring myself to kill my daughter's friend, even when I know it’s just a vampire pretending to be her friend. Do what you want. I don’t care anymore.”

I stared at him, then at Rafe, utterly aghast. This was not what I wanted. I had not dared to hope for actual acceptance, that was far too much to ask. But this, the utter defeat that radiated from him, was the exact opposite.

“I… I…” I stammered.

“Stop pretending. It doesn’t work on me.” Onar frowned, narrowed his eyes, but it remained that same soulless void.

He knows. Oh, he knows.

“No, I won’t,” I stated, casting a quick sidelong glance at Rafe. I wanted to do as he asked. I so wanted to show him what happened when I stopped pretending, just to prove a point. I did not because it would only make things worse.

“Pretending? What does he mean, Vale?” Rafe asked, having caught my glance. I shook my head at him in response.

Later. Not now. I’ll explain later.

Please don’t let me do this here.

“She’s breathing Rafe. Don’t you see it, she’s pretending to breathe.” Onar gestured with one hand while grabbing on to Rafe’s sleeve with the other. “She’s a vampire! She doesn’t breathe.”

“I’m not a–” I clutched my hair and snapped my mouth shut mid shout. My usual denial would not help here either. The distinction did not matter to Onar. I doubted it mattered to anyone except me. But I still had to try, had to hope that I could make them understand.

“Fine. I am!” I snapped at Onar, then closed my eyes and breathed hard through my nose to center myself. “But I’m nothing like them. Those monsters killed my mom! They made me like this, had to be cut out of her womb… if I ever get my hands on them…”

I slammed my head on the table to shut myself up. Onar’s own situation cut so close to home that I was getting worked up. My anger spilling out sent Rafe’s heart racing. I could not have that, had to get myself back under control.

Can’t get angry. Can’t scare them now.

When I looked up again, Onar still had his cold, defeated gaze on me. “I see why my daughter is so enamored with you. You manage an impressive approximation of emotion, for a vampire.”

Not pretending!

I wanted to deny his words, but deep down a part of me knew that he was right. I was too good a liar. With perfect control over my body, I could easily measure on any posture, any emotion, no matter how much it differed from what I really felt.

Emotions were awful. Emotions hurt. But after well over twenty years of chasing them, I had grown to like them. A lot of times, my approximations hurt a lot less than not even trying. I could not tell how close I came to the real thing, but if I had to judge, based on my experiences of the past week I would dare say I wasn’t far of.

“Fake enough to be real...” I told him with a wry smile. It was as close to the truth as I could get.