Ashlyn leads me down, my hand still in his. I felt the weight of anxiety carry heavy in my chest. the uncomfortable need to fill the silence, just to make small talk, something, anything to distract myself from my panicked thoughts. “How do you even know which world you going to?”

Ashlyn raises his brow, I could tell he had a remark, how he pursed his lips together, the way his cheeks inflated and then let go of the air he trapped. “The Sigel’s are different on each door, they tell you which world it takes you. Worlds that mirror each other are almost the same except for a few differences in the pattern.”

“Mirror? Let me guess, like my world, it’s normal, with cities, countries and people.” Ashlyn nods.

“Yeah, but it could be a different outcome in history, where someone lost a war in yours, they won it here, or the people in charge of countries, anything really. It’s a headache, but it gives us an abundance of prey.” He shrugs before kicking a lone can out of the way. “Apparently, you came from a world where magic is weakest. Little Magiqs, more vampires. Explains why Syrus is living there.”

“Explains the lack of magical oddities,” I rub my temple. Ashlyn let’s go of my hand and stands the brick wall. He gives me a glance before opening his mouth to speak.

“Aperio.” The door opens. Light shining through and the sound of busy the street fills the empty space. “After you.” he steps aside. Without a word, I walk through, adjusting my vision to the suns harsh ray. It felt like I was getting flashbanged in a video game, waiting for the ringing in my ears to start. I felt my skin warm to the sun and goosebumps appear along my flesh. Without a second a let out a sneeze.  Ashlyn lets out a chuckle from behind me. “Bless you.”

I turn my face away, feeling my cheeks heat up and mumble a “Thanks.”

“So ever been to this mirror world?” he snorts and shakes his head.

“Looks my world, so can’t really tell.” I shrug.

“Fair. You wouldn’t know unless you saw the Sigel.” He nervously rubs the back his neck before taking unneeded air. “Anyways. Welcome to Chicago,” Ashlyn leads me around from the back of the building onto the main street.  

“I only know a little about this place.” I shrug. “Windy city, cool band, lakeside view, high crime rate, apparently.”

Ashlyn snorts as he leads me through to the busier and bustling inner city. “Well it’s nothing like what you saw back in Nevada.”

“Considering the city was pretty much desolate compared to here, I believe it.” I weave through the masses of people. Ashlyn gives a faint smile, stuffing his hands into his pockets, silently weaving through people, making sharp turns but has to stop every five minutes to wait for me as I look around. He patiently waits as I take my time look through the variety of restaurants, cafés, trendy bars, speciality shops. I always see him with a faint smile as I sheepishly walk back over.

“Sorry.” He shrugs.

“You really haven’t travelled, have you?”

“Nah, always stayed in Australia. Brisbane is my stomping ground.” I smile back, he spins his head away and coughs before silently moving along.

“Brisbane huh?” he looks to me from the corner of his eye. I give a curt nod and he returns his gaze forward. “I was born in Brisbane. Was one of the early settlers there after the convicts.” I widen my eyes to the information. “When I was turned Andre found me and took back to his coven. Been in Roderick ever since.”

“Why you telling me this?”

“Thought it was only fair considering you bled your soul me to me earlier.” I felt my cheeks burn up again.

“Let’s pretend I didn’t.” a crooked smile graces the vampires lips and continues to lead me to the lakeside of the city, I shudder as the cold air cuts through me and squint trying to prevent my eyes from drying out.

“It’s hecking windy.” I wrap my arms around myself. The vampire gives a quick grin before taking his jacket off and putting around me. My eyes widen and felt my heart skip a beat. I look away, feeling embarrassed. “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.” He leans against the concrete barrier and looks towards the water. “So, what’s next?” I raise my brow. “You gonna go home after this?” I look back to the water contemplating my next move. Do I want to go back? Am I even ready to? what do I have waiting for me there? I could just wonder the universe for the rest of my days and be lost. Would that be better? Zack has found new friends, new people to be with, he doesn’t need a dead weight like me.

I stay silent, matching his posture. “Not sure, but ten more minutes of wondering won’t kill me either.” Ashlyn smiles and breathes out.

“Sounds good. I have a contact I need to meet so we can go there.”

⋅•⋅─── ⊰⋆☽⋅☆⋅☾⋆⊱ ───⋅•⋅

Ashlyn lead me through the Chicago streets, taking me further away from the inner city to the most southern parts of the windy city. I felt more at home as we walk through the down trodden streets, the graffitied walls, people screaming at each other one street for something small. This side of town reminded me of the south side of the river back at Brisbane. The northsiders and inner city would turn up their noses if they found out you came from the southside, Logan.

To me, it’s home. The nitty gritty nature of the people out hustling the system while you have the few small groups trying to make a positive change only to be thwarted because the majority has no interest. Since living in the city, I do miss the craziness, it was entertaining to watch.

We stop in front of a corner building that looks unassuming enough: dark green awning, clean windows, a small wooden sign swaying overhead. The Fox & Chain. You’d think it was a quiet midday bar for office workers. “This is the place.”

Ashlyn opens the door and stands at the frame; I look at him, he looks at me, we both stare for a short second, though it felt longer till he broke eye contact from me and nods to the door. I just clocked that he opened it for me to go through first. I gave an awkward nod and enter.

Inside, the calm jazz and chatter fill the in between the gaps of the bar, along the low scrape of chairs and the faint clink of glassware. The vampires, dressed in fine shirts and dress pants, all look they just clocked off at a corporate office job. Most of them sit at scattered tables, uncaring to hide how their eyes track us as Ashlyn leads me to the back of the floor. Their gazes skim over him, sending a distrusting glare. I watch some of their nose’s flare and scrunch in disgust, narrowing as they linger on me.

I slide first into the booth, the leather cold against my back and Ashlyn sits at the edge. His mask of calm never slipping but I watch him drum his fingers against the table, his shoulders tense, eyes looking around, watching, waiting.

Then a shadow peels away from the bar, Ashlyn stops drumming and leans closer to me hand creeping over me in a protective manner.

“Well, well. Roderick trash.” The vampire’s voice drips like oil, smooth and heavy. He’s tall, broad-shouldered, suit pressed to perfection, but his sneer ruins the picture. His eyes flick to me, red and hungry. “And what’s this? You bring a snack to share?”

“Back off.” Ashlyn straightens, his gaze sharpening. “We’re just here for Jonah.”

The vampire ignores him, stepping closer, slow, deliberate. The kind of predator who enjoys making you squirm before he strikes. “Jonah doesn’t meet with rats but your welcome to leave your snack here for me to finish off.” His gaze cuts back to me, teeth glinting.my stomach churns, I felt a burn behind my eyes as my teeth throb.

The air tightens. Other vampires shift in their seats, waiting for the first move. All too eager for blood to be shed.

Ashlyn leans forward, unflinching. “You don’t want to do this.”

The vampire laughs, deep and cruel, and in one sharp motion, he seizes Ashlyn by the collar, slamming him against the booths table. Wood cracks under the force. “No, I think I do.”

The vampire gleefully smiles, his nails grow into sharp knives, fangs out as excitement for bloodshed fuelled his lust.

Before Ashlyn can blink, I grab the bastard’s arm, freeing Ashlyn and snapping the bone, twisting the Stirling vampire and slam his back hard into the concrete floor below. He lets out a pained gasp as I hear the satisfying snap of bones. My claws dig into his throat, blood running hot over my fingers. His eyes bulge as I return the same feral grin. And a growl tearing from my chest low and wild.

“Still think I’m just some snack.” my voice high in pitch, just on the edge of bloodlust, “Touch him again, and I’ll rip your heart out.”

The room freezes. Even the bartender stills mid-polish.

For one dangerous heartbeat, I want to do it. To end him. To feel his life, bleed out beneath my hand. My chest hums with that dark hunger I’ve been fighting for months, whispering how good it would feel. No.

I take a shaky breath, unsheathing my clawed hand, swallow the urge down deep inside, and let his throat go. I stand upright, looming over the vampire on the floor, I give him one final sharp glare and look to the Roderick vampire. His mouth opens a little and eyes are wide, fear. I tore my gaze from him, shame encroaches the crevices of my mind as I replay the same look others have given to me in the past. I am a monster.

I felt a hand gently place on my shoulder, pulling me from my self-loathing, I look to the corner of my eye and see something different. No longer was there fear but, something I couldn’t pin, awe? Concern? Whatever it is, fear no longer has its place.

The vampire jumps up, backing away as his rand reaches for his healing throat. His hand shakes a little, eyes following every move I make. “What the fuck are you?!”

The door settles on its hinges, a soft click swallowed by the sudden silence. Every vampire straightens. Something in the air shifts. Calms. Tightens.

“Already causing trouble, I see.” His voice slips through the bar like a blade sheathed in velvet, smooth, amused, but edged with authority. The kind that makes every Stirling vampire lower their shoulders without thinking.

He looks like a man who could walk into a boardroom or a back-alley negotiation and never need to raise his voice to own the space.

His hair is short and thick, naturally wavy, the kind that looks permanently tousled no matter how many times he pushes a hand through it. The curls stay close to his head, soft waves catching the light, cropped shorter along the sides and fuller on top. It frames his face in this effortless, almost careless way. Like he didn’t style it, didn’t need to, it just falls where it wants and somehow looks right every time.

His features match the cut: strong jaw softened by scruff, dark brows that pull slightly when he’s assessing a room, eyes the same as every vampire but warm and steady.

His build is lean, not bulky, broad enough in the shoulders to look solid, but slim through the torso, the definition of someone who fights with precision, not brute strength.

He wears a white button-up shirt, crisp and fitted through the shoulders, the top first button undone just enough to soften the severity without losing the professionalism. The sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, exposing the full tapestry of ink winding across his forearms, dark lines and shapes that crawl over muscle and bone, a contrast as striking as blood on snow.

His trousers are black slacks, tailored clean down the leg, sharp enough to belong in a meeting room, flexible enough to move in a fight. His boots, dark leather polished to a quiet sheen, ground the look, completing that Stirling trademark: money, control, danger wrapped in elegance.

“This Roderick rat-.” The vampire shoots him a look which in turn made the lackey shut up and cower back to the crowed. He looks to the both of us with a lazy smile and slowly approaches.

“Ashlyn, didn’t think I would see you so soon. Considering joining the winning team?” he flashes a toothy grin but only receives an angry snarl in response. The vampire chuckles and looks to me, his head tilting as our eyes met. A cold study as he measures me from head to toe.

A low rumble is let out from my throat, the need for blood thrumming beneath my veins, the edge I am still standing at it. “Well now. The rumours are true, a little half breed lost in the multiverse.”

“The bitch snapped my arm.” The Stirling lackey grumbles, snapping his bone back into place.

“Be thankful she only did that and nothing more.” He glares at the lackey.

“Dick head should his words and not his hands,” I glare to the vampire and back to the one before me. “Got a name curls or you gonna keep staring.”

Everyone freezes, even Ashlyn seems to be holding his breath. The vampire lets out a loud laugh, head to the ceiling as he continues before sighing. “Careful little one, if you were to say that to my brother, he would have ripped you apart by now. You’re lucky it’s me your talking too.” He smiles before wandering over to the booth, Ashlyn and I were sitting at before. He sits in the centre and put his feet up on the table, and click his fingers. Without a word, the barkeep is at his side with a whiskey and is back to bar again. “Some advice little halfbreed, keep taking like that and that tongue of yours will get you killed.” I clench my fists, a burning anger bubbling beneath my breast, as I continue to glare the vampire.

“We’re not here to start a fight Jonah,” Ashlyn intercepts, standing between me and the older vampire. “I just want some info.”