Mark opened the door for us to reveal that Vincent was apparently still waiting outside the door. He’d almost completely healed overnight. All that remained that hinted at his injuries were some light bruising and scabbed over cuts.

"Finally! We've been waiting for nearly 30 minutes!" Vincent exclaimed. "And Lucas didn't even brush his hair. What took you so long?"

"We were busy, don't worry about it. We're ready now," Mark brushed off Vincent's question.

Vincent seemed to accept Mark's non-answer and just shrugged, then made a "follow me" gesture and we went to the living room to see what the plan was. As we made our way there I decided to inquire about Vincent’s rapid recovery.

“You’ve healed up rather quickly, is that a vampire thing?” 

He looked momentarily surprised, like the answer was really obvious, then he snapped his fingers and said.

“Oh right, I forgot how new you are to all this. Yeah, it’s one of the benefits of being a vampire. As long as we have a fresh supply of blood we heal up from most wounds pretty fast. Luckily for me Willowwisp runs blood drives for clanless vampires in the area to keep us fed and prevent desperate vamps from feeding on random people, so there’s rarely a shortage of blood around here.”

“That’s damn cool of y’all to do that for people,” I commented.

“For sure, living here has been pretty sweet.”

The room was packed when we got there, Ashe and William were all there along with several people I didn’t recognize. 

William was angrily fiddling with a TV remote. Whatever he did the TV stayed a mess of static. I got the impression he wasn't the most tech savvy person around as he stared dumbstruck at TV and remote between his failed attempts.

On the couch there was a elderly man wearing a flat brimmed cowboy hat, full button down shirt, cowboy boots, and on the boots were, I shit you not, spurs.

His leathery skin and calloused hands were of a man who worked outside a great deal. He had his wrinkled eyes closed. I noticed there was some scarring around his eyelids. 

He was holding a phone horizontally with the screen away from him tapping away at the screen and had a serious expression on his face.

Some sort of text-to-speech program? I wondered. Seems like he's blind and non-verbal.

Next to him was a masculine person that could have been Marshall’s twin brother whispering into the cowboy’s ear. 

They had the same ram's horns and yellow eyes that Marshall had, but they also wore an identical silver necklace, so it seemed quite possible that it was actually Marshall in a different form.

"Is that Marshall?" I asked Mark.

"Yeah, looks like they're having a masculine day. They switch between their two forms fairly regularly," he replied. "Guy next to them is Daniel, he's Marshall’s warlock."

"They're just able to change their form like that?"

"Mhmm. I wish they would teach me how to do that, but they've been rather tight-lipped about it."

"Well, that sucks ass," I said in a deflated tone. "Let me know if you find out how."

Damn, I got my hopes up for a minute there. What? Why am I so disappointed? Sure it'd be cool to be able to change my appearance like that, but it shouldn't bother me this much.

I glanced at Mark and he gave me that same odd smile people kept giving me and squeezed my hand reassuring me he was there for me. Despite my confusion I couldn't help but smile at the support of the person I loved.

"I think Daniel knows, but he's Marshall's warlock so I doubt he'll spill the beans," Vincent chimed in. 

Then I saw a woman standing alone in a corner. I hadn’t noticed her before, because she had been eerily still, just watching the other people in the room. When she saw the three of us enter the room she gave me a brief nod, then went back to observing.

She appeared to be in her early 40s. She was wearing authentic looking leather armor under a suit of chainmail. She had her hand casually resting on the pommel of a dagger on her belt. More worryingly, she had a huge sword in a scabbard strapped to her back. I recognized the sword's style as a claymore from some movies I’d seen many years ago. 

You could be forgiven for thinking she was a hyper-realistic statue of a Celtic knight that someone decided to add to the room's decorations. Only the reflection of light off her weary eyes told me otherwise. Just by her absolute stillness I determined that there was no way she was human. 

Under her helm she had a blank expression on her face. She stared into the middle distance, looking at everything and nothing at the same time, seemingly waiting for someone to make a move against her. I made a mental note not to piss her off and continued to take stock of the room’s occupants.

Ashe was talking to some guy with his back towards me. He noticed the three of us entering the room and gestured our way. Ashe and the man turned to us and I realized the man was actually Megan, my old bandmate. 

She had changed a great deal since the last time I’d seen her. She had shaved off her dreadlocks and I saw light reflected off the copper skin of her scalp. There were some small wisps of facial hair on her chin.

She had done something with her chest to make it completely flat. She was wearing a plaid button-up shirt and dark blue jeans.

Maybe not she? I guessed.

I knew in passing that trans men exist, but had yet to meet one to my knowledge. I didn't really know anything about how they transition.

The two of them approached us. The person beside Ashe had a determined look.

"This is Leon Goldman," Vincent introduced.

"I use he/him pronouns now. This going to be a problem, Lucas?" Leon raised an eyebrow.

As much as I hate to admit it, he had good reason to doubt me. As much as I try to forget how I used to be, Leon had known me during my thankfully short lived "edgy humor" phase.

I had said some disrespectful shit trying to get a cheap laugh back in the day. I hadn't thought I was being mean at the time, but in retrospect I hadn't been that great of a person.

"No, Leon it's not going to be a problem, I've changed," I promised. "So you're a guy then?

"Yep, realized it a while back and I finally was able to start transitioning earlier this year."

I accepted him as a guy obviously, but I didn't get why he'd want to be a guy, that seemed weird to me. Had I actually changed that much if I thought that way about trans people?

It's an incredibly bizarre experience to have doubts about being a better person than you were when you have a built-in lie detector that tells you if you believe what you say. 

You'd think that knowing for a fact that you think you've changed for the better would assuage those fears, but in reality it only worsened my fears that I was fooling myself.

After all, the rules of the sidhe can only tell me what I believe to be true, not what is true. I could very easily still be wrong. My angst was cut short by Ashe's stupidly cute voice.

"Oh my goodness!" He was looking at Mark and my hands, which were still intertwined.

Out of reflex, I quickly let go and pretended that nothing had happened. I shook my head hard to snap myself out of it and took Mark's hand again and gave it a little squeeze, he squeezed back and gave me an encouraging nod.

"Umm, while we're coming out, I've kinda got a thing I probably should say," I mumbled. "I'm pansexual, and I love Mark."

Ashe clapped his hands together and made a gleeful squee. Vincent's mouth dropped in complete surprise. 

"Oh thank Christ," Leon sighed. "Do you know how long I've waited for you two to hook up?"

"You knew?" I gasped.

"Duh, everyone knows. Hey, y'know the two guys who've been inseparable since they fucking met, would do anything for each other, and regularly eye-fuck each other when they don't think the other's looking? It turns out they're in love. It's not a big shocker."

I flushed scarlet and averted my eyes. Thinking .back on it, nothing he'd said was factually inaccurate, even the eye-fucking bit wasn't completely off base. Still, did he have to be so blunt about it?

"I didn't know!" Vincent gawked.

"How did you not know? I just met Lucas and I knew immediately," Ashe questioned.

"What? You knew too?" I asked.

"You look at Mark the same way you were looking at me last night," he winked.

I blushed furiously, but this time I didn't really mind the teasing. It was kind of validating to be honest. I put my hand over my mouth to hide the fact that I was grinning.

"It's not my fault he's that cute," I mumbled.

"Another heterosexuality destroyed by Ashe's cute ass," Vincent agreed.

"You're one to talk, handsome," Ashe smirked.

Vincent gave Ashe a brief but passionate kiss on the lips. Now that I was out of denial about my sexuality I probably shouldn't have been surprised that those two making out would be hot as fuck.

Oooooh, that's why I had been avoiding Vincent. He's actually pretty damn hot too. 

I only realized I was staring at the two making out when Mark nudged me and smirked knowingly. My cheeks flushed in embarrassment.

"Yo, twink and twunk, get a room," Leon snickered. 

“Right, sorry,” Vincent coughed.

"But seriously, I'm happy for you two and glad you're finally starting to figure yourself out, Lucas," Leon congratulated us.

"Alright, daylight's burning folks," A modulated voice coming from the cowboy’s phone said.

"Daniel is right, we should get to it, especially since she's here," Vincent nodded his head slightly toward the centurion.

"Who is that anyway?" Mark whispered.

"That is Ventusa, she's one of Glaistig's underlings." Ashe explained.

"I am her personal and confidant, Winter whelp," Ventusa spat from just a foot behind me.

She had somehow crossed the distance without anyone noticing. I flinched away from her and tripped over backwards, head first towards the corner of a nearby hutch. 

Several things happened in under a second, Ashe and Ventusa shot towards me at supernatural speeds.

Ventusa drew a sword with one hand faster than the blink of an eye and reached to catch me with the other, but she barely made it a foot before she froze in place mid-stride. 

Ashe easily caught me with the aid of his own speed boosting magic and helped me get back on my feet. Marshall stomped over to us and leered at Ventusa.

Ventusa looked at her predicament with momentary confusion, then slowly turned to Marshall and narrowed her eyes.

"Consider your next words carefully," Marshall snarled at Ventusa.

"I am under direct order to protect Glaistig's child at all costs," Ventusa said calmly. "I saw one of Seelie's sworn enemies lunge at him and was compelled to act."

"Ashe isn't my enemy," I protested.

"Your naïveté is no concern of mine. The Greenteeth child is the enemy of Spring and his presence alone is a threat to you."

"Wait, Greenteeth? Like Jenny Greenteeth?" I gasped.

Ashe grimaced at the name and averted everyone's gazes. He shuffled in place rather awkwardly.

Jenny Greenteeth's assassination at the hands of a Mark look-alike had been the start of all this madness and finding out my new friend was her son was a bit of a shock.

"She was my biological mother, but I'd prefer not to talk about the frigid bitch." Ashe scowled. 

"The whelp admits it! He is the spawn of that sadistic creature," Ventusa proclaimed.

"I was disowned years ago!" He defended. "I refused to continue the family tradition of lurking in ponds and drowning passersby. Now can we please change the topic? I'm sure there are more important things to talk about."

"Unfortunately her death is rather critical to why we're all here in the first place," Marshall reminded.

"That’s true enough," Ashe grimaced.

"The whelp has a point, we should get on with it."

"Finally," Daniel said. He was clearly about to blow a gasket from all the distractions.

"Marshall, would you kindly release me?" Ventusa asked in such a polite voice you would think we're discussing cricket over tea and briskets instead of talking about the recent assassination of Ashe's mother.

"You haven't been a particularly good guest so far. Do you have a reason I shouldn't end you out of principle?"

Ventusa gritted her teeth like she had just been stabbed. It took her several seconds to recover before she replied. 

"I do apologize for inconveniencing you, but Glaistig ordered me to protect her child to the death, or worse, being rude." 

"Are you going to attack Ashe if I release you?" Marshall hissed.

"If he agrees to make no hostile actions toward my ward."

"Preventing me from cracking my skull open is hardly a hostile action!" I exclaimed.

"How was I to know he did not plan to kill you while you were vulnerable?" she pointed out. "Not like the whelp doesn't deserve it."

Several people started yelling at once, myself included. It soon devolved into everyone shouting at a nonplussed Ventusa, until an ear piercing screech came from Daniel's phone. 

The volume alone was painful, but something else much more potent about digital scream, something that scraped away at my mind drowning all thoughts but the pain of the noise.

Everyone but Marshall and Ventusa quickly covered their ears against the painful wail. Daniel spoke with their text-to-speech program.

"You lot are wasting valuable time while our enemies already have a massive head start on us. Now shut your traps and let's get on with this."

"Fine, but you need to put that damn banshee recording away!" William demanded. "That's irresponsible use of a lethal weapon!"

"Nonsense, only the real thing can kill. This is only a rough facsimile of the true article," Daniel dismissed. "Now, introductions are in order. Marshall, if you would do mine..."

"This is Daniel Stewart, esteemed arcanist and my warlock," Marshall said.

"An arcanist is just a fancy pants term for a scientist who studies magic," he said. "I use he/them, by the way," He added.

"I know of you, you're the one who The Dagda placed a bounty on all those years ago," Ventusa said with some amusement.

"Glaistig ordered you to not tell anyone of my whereabouts," Daniel stated as if he were pointing out the obvious.

"Oooo, you are quite the clever one," Ventusa smirked. "I think I shall enjoy working with you."

"I can't say the same about you."

"I think there is time enough to change that," she mused. 

Daniel and Marshall scowled in exactly the same manner in unison, but neither responded to Ventusa's comment.

"Mark, you wanna do me?" I asked. 

Mark blushed at my phrasing, which in turn made me blush. Oh hell, this is going to be a thing isn't it.

"This is Lucas Page," Mark announced.

"You're Emma and Samuel's kid, ain'tcha?" Daniel said. "I hired your parents as bodyguards 'round the turn of the century. They were about your age back then."

"You're mistaken, my parents were in their late thirties in 2000. I'm only 25"

"Not 2000, kid, 1900," Daniel corrected me.

"What the fuck? They couldn't possibly be that old, Dad's only 58!"

"I'm sorry to say kiddo, but it sounds like they lied to you about a lot of things. Samuel and Emma Page were in their early 30s in 1900."

"Fucking hell," I swore. After a moment of recoil I asked, "Were they mages?"

"Emma was a mage, a clever one at that. Very talented in defensive magic, not quite on my level, but well and above her peers."

"What about dad?" I pressed.

"Sam was Glaistig's warlock until a couple decades ago. Those two had a nasty falling out after Emma died. I haven't heard hide nor hair from him since."

I thought for a moment, trying to process that my parents had lied to me about even more than I thought they had. What else were they keeping from me? I wondered.

"There will be time to talk about the past later, Lucas. We've had enough distractions already," Daniel insisted.

Despite his continued insistence to get on with it my mind couldn't help but wonder what other basic info my parents lied to me about.

Author's Note: