“I really don’t understand how those lousy bat cops still think I’m involved.” Emrys adjusted the beanie she’d leant him as snowflakes fell all around them.  

“Everything about Iron Fang’s death is already suspicious, and you’re the perfect scapegoat.” Gwyneira tightened her scarf around her neck before summoning her broom with the flick of her wrist.  “You solicited him for illegal blood pills, witnesses overheard the two of you arguing, and then he’s discovered dead in your motel room.  While I know you’re not responsible, I can understand their reservations. Which is why I need to find the culprit.”

“Don’t you mean we?” Emrys asked.  “I have no intention of letting you hunt a killer on your own. Especially not one who made it very clear they want you dead.”

“Yes, of course.” Gwyneira gazed back at the two vampire officials Percy had sent out to follow her. They had shifted into their bat form the moment she’d summoned her broom.  

Emrys tilted his head, brows furrowing as he watched her swing one leg over her broom’s handle.  “How does this magical cleaning tool work?  If I hop on, can I trust you to keep me from falling to my death?”

Gwyneira blinked, momentarily speechless before a strangled laugh escaped her.  “You want to ride on my broom?  Why not shift into a bat and fly?  I know you vampires hate these.”

“I do not wish to fly alongside those bat cops.” Emrys awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck.  “They’re already suspicious of me.  I’d rather not have one on one time with them up in the sky.”

“Fair enough.  So, just swing your leg over like I did,” Gwyneira instructed him.

Emrys swung his leg over with about as much grace as a baby dragon just starting to crawl around. Her magic wrapped silvery tendrils around his waist and legs to help steady him.  

So close, she could pick up on his reservations in his rigid posture as he struggled with placing his hands somewhere. At first, he crossed them over his chest, then he scooted back slightly to give him enough space to grip the handle beneath them. He trembled like a leaf in the wind when she levitated them off the ground, just enough for their boots to dangle.

“Fangs!” Emrys latched tightly around her waist as she giggled with their slow ascent into the sky.  She didn’t want to launch him up in the air too fast, not with whiplashing the poor vamp. “This is not funny,” he muttered against the back of her overcoat, his face pressed firmly against the fabric.

“I’m not mocking you,” Gwyneira assured him, although she found it hard not to grin at his plight.  “You’re just not used to flying like this.  I promise to keep you safe up here, okay?  So just enjoy the ride.”

Emrys shook like a pitiful puppy left out in the snow as she flew them across town, soaring over pretty snow-capped buildings adored in festive Nightfall Eve decorations.  She still wasn’t sure if she’d be able to celebrate it with her family this year.  The thought of bringing Emrys home for the holiday flashed through her mind without warning, and she swerved at the last minute to avoid whacking into an innocent red cardinal.  

“Crystal balls, Gwyneira!” Emrys cried out, his hold on her tightening even more. She was quite thankful for the magic she’d wrapped around him before taking flight because he probably would’ve squeezed her to death already.  

“I won’t let you fall, I promise, Emrys.”

One glance at the sky told her it wouldn’t be long before the sun graced their lands.  Gwyneira had always admired the blissful night, but she missed the solitude of the first sunrise when the birds sang and vampires tucked themselves into their coffins for the day. 

She used to love waking up early with her mother to visit the witch’s market. They’d gather all their needed vegetables, healing elixirs, and potions. All homemade and homegrown.  That was before it turned to nothing but sketchy back alley trades after they enacted the curfew.  It was overrun by crooks and criminals, those selling worthless charms claiming to ward off vampires but just made one stink like garlic and sulfur. 

Gwyneira’s mind drifted much like the dark clouds above, yet she stayed focused enough not to crash them into buildings. She wasn’t about to traumatize poor Emrys clinging ever so tightly to her.  

She was gentle with bringing them back to the ground, keeping her broom levitated long enough for Emrys to swing one jelly-like leg over the handle.  He swayed on his feet, and she reached out, arms wrapping around his waist to steady him.

“Thanks,” Emrys murmured, planting both his hands on her shoulders for extra support.  “I never want to do that again.”

Gwyneira giggled.  “Noted. No more broom flights for you.”

Although severely beaten by the wind, he still had such a rugged handsomeness to him, and Gwyneira blushed as such a thought entered her mind.  She should not be admiring his unruly hair or how soft his moonblessed skin looked or how striking those cheekbones of his were in the dim light. 

Emrys Hawthorn was nothing but a client.  A troublesome vampire one, at that. The only thing that she needed to think about was how she would prove his innocence. There was something wicked afoot, and Gwyneira was determined to get to the bottom of it.  No matter the cost.  

“I should probably leave for the night.” Emrys awkwardly moved his hands off her shoulders, tucking his hands down into his overcoat’s pockets.  “Don’t want those bat cops over there starting rumors about you.”

Gwyneira tilted her head in the direction of the bats perched atop of a streetlamp, their bodies angled toward them.  Likely watching and listening. 

“I don’t quite care what they have to say about me.  It wouldn’t be the first time someone spread nasty rumors.” Gwyneira shrugged as she plucked out her key.  “I’d much rather you stay here in my office where I know you’re safe.  Those bat cops aren’t going to follow you to a motel or anywhere else either, you know.”

“Only if you’re sure.” Emrys crossed his arms over his chest.  “Your office is far more comfortable than any motel coffin I’ve slept in.” A faint smile stretched across his lips.