This was a terrible idea.

Gwyneira’s heart thundered over the music roaring in her ears and her skin goosed upon stepping into the forbidden backrooms.  The miasma of cheap perfume and blood singed her nostrils as she cast a silent hex over her nose to block out the smells. 

“So, how did the two of you meet?” Alexander asked, venom dripping in his tone when he added, “Gwyneira swore off vampires forever, so I’m curious what changed.”

Emrys frowned her way, but offered Alexander a nonchalant shrug.  “She just needed a decent vampire to treat her well.”

Alexander chuckled.  “A real gentleman, are you now?”

Regret nestled deep in Gwyneira’s chest as they followed Alexander to a table in the corner with a black tablecloth atop it. A framed portrait of Queen Wraith hung above the small group of gathered, and her throat tightened as a familiar pair of crimson, slanted eyes met hers. 

“Gwyneira.” The shock in Mr. Bloodworth’s voice was evidenced in his slightly higher pitched tone and the way his sharp pointed ears twitched. 

“Lovely night, isn’t it?” Gwyneira forced a strained smile. 

He was the last vamp she wanted to run into. Although, she had to admit, it was quite amusing to see him so flustered. Color crept down his neck and the pointy tips of his ears burned a darker shade. 

“Places like these are dangerous for witches.” Bloodworth gulped down the rest of his blood, the features in his sharp face rigid as he glared at her. “You need to leave, Gwyneira.”  

“Do not treat me as if I am a child, Bloodworth.” Gwyneira bristled.  “I am more than capable of handling myself in a roomful of vampires.”

It was rare for him to pronounce her name properly, almost as if his darkened tone carried concern with it.  That was preposterous.  Bloodworth cared only for himself and how to fill his precious pockets with gold.

“You never should’ve let her come here in the first place, Emrys.” Bloodworth’s cutthroat glare sent shivers down Gwyneira’s spine, but she did not let an ounce of fear seep through her barriers.  She had learned to stay stoic in the presence of the most bloodthirsty vamps over the years.  “If there’s any sense left in that drug-addled brain of yours, you’ll leave before you attract the wrong attention.”

“So dramatic, Lucius.” Alexander snickered.  

Much to Gwyneira’s surprise, she caught Lionel’s eye from across the room.  He resembled a frazzled cat when he shifted his gaze from her, to the table of vampires, then bolted out the emergency exit door.  She cursed under her breath.  

“Emrys.” Gwyneira nudged his arm. “Come on. This is our chance.”

“I don’t know about this, Gwyneira.” She gave him no time to consider her plan as she wrenched his arm and pulled him toward the emergency exit, where his brother had escaped.  “Jeezus, are you mad?” He shouted over the roaring winds outside, the distant blare of the alarm echoing like a siren behind them.  

Gwyneira plucked her wand out from her coat’s pocket and chanted, “Expullious!” Radiant gold embers shot across the night sky toward Lionel, until the magic encased him in an opaque bubble he couldn’t escape from. 

“Gwyneira!” Emrys cried out. “Did you seriously just hex my brother?”

“He wouldn’t stop running from us.”

To the naked eye, Lionel merely looked frozen in place. His body trembled against her magic’s restraints as they approached. Realizing she still gripped Emrys hand after dragging him out of the pub, she quickly released him with an apologetic glance. 

Gwyneira came around to stand face to face with Lionel, her wand still clutched tight in her hand. Golden embers still sparked on the tip, and the fear in the poor vampire’s eyes made her heart tighten as she lowered it. 

“I’m sorry for doing this.” Gwyneira cast a silent spell to loosen her grip on him, enough for him to move his limbs more freely and actually speak. But his feet remained rooted to the ground. “We need to talk to you.”

“What in the hells is going on, Emrys?” Lionel growled. “Make your witch release me. Now.”

Despite how Lionel fought to free himself, his magic paled in comparison to Gwyneira’s ironclad grip on him.  She felt tendrils desperately clawing to free him against her magical restraints, but it was futile.  

“What do you know about Iron Fang?” Gwyneira asked.  “I saw you back there chatting with his pals.”

“Is she a cop?” Lionel hissed, his crimson eyes widening as he looked to his brother for answers.  “You’re a fanging fool if you think some pretty witch cop with a wand will protect you.”

“Just answer her questions.” Emrys propped his back against a darkened brick building, arms folded across his chest.

“Well, he’s dead,” Lionel spat. “And if you keep poking your nose where it doesn’t belong, you will be too.” 

“Don’t you want to help clear your brother’s name?” Gwyneira asked, hoping the desperation in her tone wasn’t noticeable.  “He could go down for Iron Fang’s murder.  Can you honestly live with that?  Knowing you might’ve had information that could’ve helped keep him out of prison?”

The animosity in Lionel’s eyes shifted, the light in them dimming as he yanked away from his brother’s gaze.  “I can’t help you.  I’m sorry.”

“Are you seriously choosing them over your own blood?” Emrys hissed. 

“You want me to lie for you, Emrys?  Is that it?  Everyone knows how much you and Iron Fang were at each other’s throats.” Lionel shook his head.  “All because of those stupid blood pills of yours.”

Emrys’ ears flexed inward as he scowled.  “You know why I need them.”

“Yeah, you’re addicted to them.  Don’t you remember what happened when he was late on getting them to you?  Because I sure do.  You threatened to sink your fangs into his throat and rip it out.”

“That was nothing but hot air,” Emrys scoffed.  “I just wanted to frighten him.  How else am I supposed to get my pills now, huh?  Why would I kill my supplier? He was the only vamp in your crew willing to smuggle them.”

“Because you lose control when you haven’t had those damn pills!” Lionel snapped, and that shut Emrys down.  “You’ll always be my brother, and I love you, but I can’t help your case.  Word on the street is that you lost control and killed him.  I’ve seen you at your worst, Emrys.  I don’t want to believe it either.  But…”

“But?” Gwyneira spoke up, her voice barely above a whisper as it caught in her throat.  

“There’s a witness who overheard you fighting with Iron Fang in your hotel room,” Lionel murmured.  “You threatened to rip his throat out.”

“Iron Fang’s throat wasn’t ripped out, was it?” Emrys asked.  “Why in the hells would I go through the trouble of cleaving the vamp’s heart from his chest?  Jeezus, I’m not surprised nobody else believes me, but I thought my own brother would have some faith in me.  Guess I was wrong.”

Gwyneira loosened her magic’s hold on Lionel, and once freed, he dashed down the sidewalk and disappeared around the corner in a dark blur.  Her heart thundered in her chest as she turned toward Emrys, watching his expression, expecting pure rage to glisten in his crimson eyes.  However, he just looked crestfallen and defeated.

“Hey, Emrys.” Gwyneira reached out for him, her fingers barely grazing the back of his shoulder as he turned to walk away.

“This was a mistake,” Emrys murmured. 

The dim glow of lamp posts around them illuminated a stocky figure at the end of the street, where potent magic carried across the otherwise vacant sidewalk.  It even halted Emrys in his tracks.  Gwyneira had drawn her wand on instinct and stepped forward.  Icy nails scraped down her spine as the figure stepped closer, and the defensive spell lay right on the tip of her tongue until his familiar, despicable face came closer.

“Bloodworth?” His name rolled off her tongue in annoyance as she lowered her wand.

“Oh, thank the Goddesses you’re all right, Gwyneira.” The look of pure relief in Bloodworth’s eyes had her frown deepening, and she considered the possibility that he’d imbibed far too much fae blood back at the pub.

“Why wouldn’t she be?” Emrys asked.  “For someone who wanted to defend me, you sure don’t give a shit about my well-being.” He scoffed.

“No, you fool.” Bloodworth spat.  “There’s a bunch of bat cops gathered outside behind the pub as we speak.  They uncovered a body.  Well, the remains of one, that is.”

Gwyneira gasped.  “Who was it?  Have they identified them yet?  Was it a vampire or another mafia member?”

“No. She’s far too mutilated to properly identify, but her build and her hair… they’re a match for you, Gwyneira.  That’s why I thought…” Bloodworth shook his head.  “It doesn’t matter, because clearly that was not you laying in that alleyway with your chest cut open and ravaged.”  He’d lost a touch of color in the cold, and upon closer inspection, she noticed blood smeared his cheeks.  

“That’s similar to how someone killed Iron Fang,” Gwyneira pointed out.  “And clearly Emrys couldn’t have killed that poor woman because he’s been with me the entire night.”

Bloodworth stuffed his hands down in his overcoat’s pockets.  “That’s one way to look at it, yes.  However, the bat cops might also suspect you’re covering for your vampire client now.  How will it look to them when they learn Emrys is at yet another scene of a murder?”

Not good at all.