I stayed in the room for the entire day. No one bothered me besides Abraham bringing me small meals. I felt numb, despite the fact that I had just told my biggest secret to an almost complete stranger. Hell, I didn’t even know any of his favorites! Why was I considering him a friend? Because he had helped me? Because he had accepted my past? I honestly couldn’t tell. What was a friend, anyway?

What I could tell was that the people in this town might not have been so crazy after all. The more I delved into these species books, the more logical it seemed. There were bodily diagrams, biographies taken from the diaries of both the creatures and hunters, history lessons…. Most everything one needed to be convinced, and more. I stayed on vampires for a bit, then moved on to werewolves since, apparently, the mayor of Ivory Tower was a female werewolf.

According to the books, there were rarely female alphas, so this one must have been a luna whose mate died. I was shocked to learn that werewolves actually lived in packs since, as far as I knew, normal wolves didn’t really have a hierarchy. Apparently, there were three types of werewolves, and one book for each.

The first were called ‘eaters,’ and they didn’t turn into wolves. They had sharp nails and teeth, sometimes grew fur and were typically hairier, larger, and stronger than humans, and feasted on flesh. Human flesh, mostly, although they could comfortably consume raw animal meat. I hoped the mayor wasn’t one of those.

The second type of werewolf was called a shifter. They were kind of the basic stereotypical werewolf: turned at will, sometimes howled at the moon, had near-total control over their wolf forms, and stayed together in groups with an alpha/beta/others hierarchy system. Basic shit that every fanfiction author knew and abused.

The third type was called an omega shifter. Those guys seemed pretty rare, as they had mostly been killed since they were seen as a weakness. I could understand why. After all, they turned almost every night and often had little to no control over their wolf forms, giving birth to the legend that werewolves were ravenous beasts. There was also ‘less magic’ in their transformations, so their clothes would rip and they would wake in the morning almost butt-naked! I was almost glad barely any of those guys existed; death would save them from embarrassment, that was for sure.

So maybe magic was real. Maybe I needed to rethink this. Killian had a tail, pointed ears, and telekinesis. Mika could smell my blood. Maybe she was one of those alpha vampires? A vampire who didn’t need a community like the betas? That might have been possible.

And Abraham…. Was he just a normal human? Or was he something else? I hadn’t seen anything pointing to him down the magic road, but there were probably species that looked like normal humans. Like shifter werewolves. And vampires. Well, betas only awoke during the night so….

He had called Nicolai his master beta. Based on the books, there were alphas and betas. Alphas could walk around during the day, although they were more sensitive to sun, and could feed off pretty much anyone. They often had a small circle of friends and family to feed off of, but could and would gladly do the stereotypical walk through the dark streets looking for a meal.

Betas, on the other hand, needed more blood, so they had groups of seven or eight that were ‘bound’ to them and that they fed from regularly. They slept during the day, burnt and blistered in the sun, and were often very pale. The people that they fed off of were essentially addicted to them, to some sort of chemical in their saliva. It was kind of like that for alphas, but, while beta feeders only needed one to three bites to be addicted, alpha feeders needed up to eight or even a dozen.

So, one-night stands were much easier for alphas.

“Hey, Raine!” Abraham knocked on the door, then peeked in. “Wow, you’ve been doing some research.”

“Ah, mostly just on vampires and werewolves,” I replied.

“Here, dinner,” he set a plate on the desk nearby.

“Abraham?” I questioned, walking over to the desk. “What species are you?”

“Oh, well, I’m a fallen angel,” he smiled.

“I… haven’t read the book on angels. Fallen angels are demons, right?”

“No, no,” he chuckled. “Fallen angels happen when…. I think the best way to describe it is that fallen angels reject the teachings and traditions of Heaven, often leaving it in the process and letting their wings turn black.”

“So… you rejected Heaven,” I slowly nodded. “Can you prove it?”

And then there were wings around me. Huge, black, feathered wings.

“Okay, that’s enough proof,” I whispered, staring at the wings.

“You sure?” He laughed.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m sure,” I gently pushed one wing away. “You might get feathers in my food, and that would not be enjoyable.” I looked him up and down. “Wait, so, where do they come from?”

He turned to show me his back, where the black wings sprouted from his shoulder blades. “You’re lucky I’m wearing a low-cut tank top. If I were to do this with a normal t-shirt, it would rip. Think of them as second arms. They come out of… the spine, I think? I don’t know, it’s been a bit since year ten biology.”

“C-can I… touch them?” I hesitantly asked.

“Sure.”

I hesitated for a short moment, then gently ran my fingers along the soft black feathers. They seemed to shimmer with speckles of silver in the dim winter sunlight streaming through the window. Smaller feathers were gathered around Abraham’s shoulders, fluffy and soft, almost like downy.

“Do you have to groom them?” I asked.

“Of course,” he nodded. “We molt during the summer, too.”

“I don’t believe this,” I whispered, backing away. “Magic is real.”

“Duh,” Abraham laughed with a light eye-roll. “Now finish your dinner and come downstairs. The mayor will be here within the hour. And, the sun’s setting, so Nicolai will be awake soon.”

The sun was already setting?! Abraham put his wings away, much to my confusion, as I finished the small meal. He took the plate, then both of us walked downstairs to the main lounge room.

It was a welcoming room. There was a fire blazing, lighting and warming most of the room. There were old pictures framed on the walls. Everything seemed vintage, even down to the carpet. The kitchen beyond seemed relatively modern, but the lounge room was like a time portal to the 40s or 50s. The faded black-and-white photos were obviously from that time period. Many of them depicted tall, pale men and women, usually in darker environments. Some of them were newer, and one held a younger version of Abraham.

“Those pictures are all of my family,” a voice behind me said. I spun around to see a very pale man with wavy light hair. He seemed tired, and was wrapped in a deep blue robe. “But that was a long time ago.”

“You must be Nicolai,” I said. “I-I read about your species. Beta vampires.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Swann,” Nicolai nodded, smiling. “Abraham told me of your little run-in with Anna. She’s been quite the troublemaker lately. I knew I shouldn’t have taken her in. Non-fallen angels are almost always bad news for someone.”

“Anna’s an angel?” I breathed. “Of course. Why not?”

“Yes,” Nicolai nodded, lightly chuckling. “She was a bully from the start. I wanted to give her a chance. Perhaps that was a mistake.”

“Raine,” Abraham had returned. “You should tell him.”

I closed my eyes for a moment, preparing myself, then blurted out, “I have a ton of money in my suitcase and someone attacked my truck and found all the money and I think it was Anna and she might be planning to use it against me even though it’s just hush money cause I was a prostitute.” There, all done. That was easier than I thought it would be. And Nicolai didn’t seem to care much; his expression only held hints of concern.

"Well, well, well," a female voice chuckled. "That is quite the story."