Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Italy. It was nice, near the beginning of the summer. Elayn found herself staying up late to greet the sun in the morning, something she didn't normally do considering her mate's aversion to it. And even in the night, the countryside was still beautiful. The flowers in the meadows she and Serana passed as they traveled filled the air with a sweet scent, one that lingered when Elayn broke away from the road to collect a handful of those flowers so she could shape them into a woven crown that made Serana giggle when she set it on her head. By night they met few other travelers on the road, and walked hand in hand whenever they had the opportunity. 

Vicenza wasn't more than a day or so from the border, and it was the first place Elayn had been in a long while that could be called a city. They entered just as the sun was going down, Serana wearing a heavy hood to escape the few rays shining over the horizon. They passed without too much trouble, not being the only ones entering through the gate at that time. Salem bade them a temporary farewell.

Too many people to notice me, they said, tail flicking. I will go and hunt until your business here is done.

There was something strange about the city. At first, Elayn barely noticed anything about the hustle and bustle she knew was life in a city. It was Serana that mentioned, under her breath, “Do these people seem a little… Off, to you? “

Now that she knew she was looking, Elayn cast a more perceptive eye around. The people still on the streets went about their business with their heads ducked, eyes flat and somber. “Something is wrong,” she replied after a few moments gazing around. “I smell fear.”

There were few places better for two weary travelers to hear the news around the town but the market. It was nearly time for the shopkeepers to board up their wares, but there were still a few people milling about.

Elayn made for a merchant selling dried meats and paid for a strip of goat with a few coppers. While she ate, Serana talked to the woman selling.

“It's a damn shame,” the elderly woman said, sharpening her knife. “Children in the church's care dying, sickness spreading through the streets, and the Father, bless his soul, just passed at the end of this last week.”

She shook her head mournfully and repeated, “A damn shame. This city used to be so nice. Now we're starting to lose that spark. You two shouldn't stay here long, lest you catch ill yourselves.”

Serana thanked her and she and Elayn went looking for a place to sleep. “What do you think?” she asked, casting a glance at Elayn. “Vampires?”

“In a town like this?” Elayn took a quick look around at the many, many cross and crucifix decorations. Serana would have to be careful around those. “I don't think so. These folks seem a bit too prepared, and the catholics are strong in this country.”

She nodded, a sweet, thoughtful furrow between her brows. “But there's something going on.”

Elayn heaved a sigh. “Of course, you want to find out what.” Her words were said with exhaustion, but the sly smile that crept across her face told Serana she was joking.

Her mistress pouted anyway. “We could leave, if you really wanted to.”

She responded by pulling Serana into an alleyway without witnesses and pressing her against a wall to kiss her soundly. When they came up for breath, her mistress was smiling, and they walked on in companionable silence.

A street down from the edge of the market, there was a tavern. Elayn could hear the boisterous sounds of a good time before she saw the building. She felt herself make an involuntary face as she held the door open for Serana to walk past, and got a nose full of grease, yeast, and sweaty man-beast. Serana smiled knowingly at her, and the nightshade-moonlight scent that was hers wafted by and left Elayn blissfully mindless for a beat before she followed her in.

“A bedroom, please,” Serana said to the man behind the bar who was cleaning a wooden mug with a dirty towel.

He eyed the two of them. “How many beds?”

“Just the one.”

The man behind the bar got a funny look on his face, much like the one Elayn had gotten walking in. “You two sisters?”

“Cousins,” Elayn said, cutting in as she recognized danger. “Just traveling from Germany to visit family.”

He gave them another long look and she could not tell if he had bought it. But when Serana passed him coins, he took them readily enough and handed over a key. “Up the stairs, first on the right,” he grunted, and once more coins came his way for food to be brought to them, it was as if they had never been there at all.

Elayn hid her scowl until they were behind closed doors. “Fucking Christians,” she spat, careful to keep her voice down.

Serana turned around, halfway to the bed, looking surprised. “Wait, what?”

She gestured behind her, in the direction of the barkeep. “We're going to have to be careful here, with how much power the church has. They don't look kindly on… people like us.”

Her mistress blinked, as though Elayn's explanation had not clarified anything. “He couldn't tell what we were, could he? I know human noses aren't that keen.”

“Not what we are,” she said. “What we are to each other. Two women, two men, the church spits on both kinds of bonds.”

Understanding dawned on Serana's face, followed by anger. “I remember my mother mentioning something about that once, though at the time I didn't understand what she meant.”

“Humans are backward,” Elayn said, sighing as she felt tension bleed from her shoulders, and she crossed to the bed so she could collapse on it on her back.

“But wait,” her mistress said, sitting on the edge of the bed by her legs. “When you kissed me earlier, you knew it was a danger?” 

Elayn smirked. “It was entirely worth it, I promise you.”

“Damn it, Elayn,” Serana said, but she laughed as she did, and swatted at her legs. “Be more careful.”

“Yes mistress,” she said, in a rumbly voice that brought a flush to Serana's pale face, and talking stopped in favor of--

Well, it was something the church would frown upon.

Chapter Text

In the morning, the two split up to look for clues about what was plaguing the city. They had to, did they not? The only worse thing than a city full of panicky humans would be a city full of panicky humans panicking about demons in their midst. It would start a mob rioting through the streets, which could turn ugly if anyone took too close a look at the unnatural silver of Elayn's eyes, and the eery gold of Serana's.

There was also another reason that it went mostly unsaid that they would intercede, Serana thought. And it was a reason she did not feel her werewolf would particularly appreciate her dissecting. It was that Elayn felt an urge to protect the weaker, fragile humans from whatever creature was plaguing them. Serana had had interesting conversations with Claude while Elayn lay in bed in the werewolf den in France. Discussions of the nature of alphas, a kind of werewolf that Elayn most certainly was.

They were natural leaders and, typically, inclined toward protecting those around them who needed it. Since Elayn did not have a pack beyond Serana, who did not share the same bond with her that another werewolf would, that instinct manifested in bouts of heroism when the humans she encountered found themselves in peril. For all she complained when her solitude-- one Serana never seem to break with her presence-- was disturbed by others nearby, she looked out for them. It was simply her nature.

While Serana thought about her werewolf, she made her way through the city, getting lost a few times and retracing her steps until she found the city's cathedral. It was a magnificent building, full of arches and spires and stained glass. Her father would shudder in fury at the sight of it.

Serana? She loved it, strange though that may be. It had a charm of magnificence.

Crossing the threshold held no peril for her. It was common legend that vampires are repelled from entering holy places, but really it just made a vampire uncomfortable to be surrounded by so many articles of faith. Those had real power to inflict damage on a vampire, so as Serana walked the inside of the building, she was careful not to get too close without appearing suspicious.

Ah, the pretense of humanity. No wonder Elayn avoided cities.

“Can I help you?” A beardless man in green and gold asked as he approached her, somewhat taking her by surprise.

She made sure she had a fangless smile on her face as she turned to him. “Just looking. I've never seen a building like this before.”

He took in her appearance, a black skirt, red bodice with vertical folds, and simple leather shoes good for walking, all covered in dust from the road, and smiled beneficently. “A traveler, I see, come to worship the Lord. You are welcome, my child.”

“Thank you, Father,” she said, trying her best to keep her smile from becoming wry. “I actually had a few questions, if you had the time.”

“By all means.”

How to phrase this so she did not come across too suspicious? “I heard in town that the old Father passed away. Was it sudden?”

The old priest heaved a sigh. “It was truly tragic, and happened to such a good man, even though he was up in his years. He took ill about two weeks ago, and his health dwindled every day. It was as though…”

He paused, and frowned. “It was as though the life was being sucked from him. But today is too nice to fret over such a thing. Did you have any other questions?”

Serana wanted to ask about the children getting sick, but something told her that to be too curious about the morbid would draw herself unwelcome attention. So she asked a few generic questions about the architecture and history of the building, before the Father had to go back to his duties. When his back was turned, she nearly turned to leave, but curiosity struck her again, and she drew shadow around herself the way Salem had taught her and went deeper into the cathedral.

Up some stairs she started to hear high-pitched voices murmuring. Closer, she saw an open door to a room with children of all shapes and ages. She stayed where she was in a dark corner and observed-- while she did not necessarily know a lot about children-- that these kids seemed sedate, the ones who passed her line of sight without smiles. There was also a scent in the air, one she was sure Elayn would have an easier time identifying, but after a moment it hit her.

She smelled death on these children.

Serana turned to go, but before she did, an adult woman in a nun's outfit passed the doorway, and as she did, Serana could swear that she turned her head, and their eyes met. A shiver went down Serana's spine, though she could not name the reason why. There was nothing wrong with her, she had a sweet face, but still, Serana's instincts, which had improved during her travels with Elayn, clamored.

Chapter Text

While Serana investigated, Elayn went on her own hunt for information. It seemed to her that the best place to learn more about local legends that could be hurting the city folk would be where the majority of knowledge in the city was kept. So she made for the university after breakfast.

She drew odd looks in the entryway of the university was bustling with scholars and visitors. It could have been the ragged state of her clothes, or her hair, which she had recently chopped down to the length of her thumb. It could have been the feral air she knew surrounded her, that made people cut her a wide berth. Whatever it was that earned her those looks did not seem to be worth stopping her for, so she went on with her business.

An important looking man in robes swept by her, and on an impulse she reached out and tapped his shoulder. “Excuse me, signor,” she said when he stopped and turned to her with the expression of a man who had just stepped in a horse's leavings.

“Yes? What is it?” he demanded. “I have no time to answer foolish questions.”

“Where's your books on demons?” she asked, fighting to keep from growling at this arrogant human.

Said arrogant human made a noise of frustration and reached into the nearby milling crowd of students. “Here, Trystan, you help this woman,” he said to the boy he had grabbed.

“Yes, signor,” said the boy.

Well, man might have been more accurate, but his rounded, cheerful features belied the age he must have been to be a student of the university. He had brilliant red hair, and was paler than most of the other students. There was something else about him, something she could not quite put her finger on.

He stuck out his hand, friendly in spite of the suspicious look she was certainly giving him. “I'm Trystan, er, Wilde! It's good you meet you, uh--”

“Elayn,” she responded automatically, and took his hand.

Firm grip, and he met her eyes without hesitation. She had to hold back a gasp at what she saw; incredibly familiar silver eyes. Despite the muddle of scents obscuring it, the breeze flowing through the open door carried Trystan's scent to her nose. Werewolf! But what was he doing here?

“Er, right,” the student said, pulling his hand back with a nervous laugh. “So, what can I help you with?”

Elayn made a point to look away from him and scan the surrounding hall. “I'm looking for information on demons. The local type.”

The look he gave her that she saw out of the corner of her eye was nonplussed. “What do you need information on that for?”

Oh well, what could be the harm? She looked at Trystan and smiled. With teeth. “I'm looking for one.”

Rather than scare him off, the admission brought a sparkle to his eye. “Wow, really? You're some kind of demon hunter? Wow,” he said again, seeming lost for words.

This kid was growing on her.

“I'm concerned about things in town. Would you know anything about that?”

His face twisted up as he thought, a finger going to his chin. “Well, there's a lot that happens in this city. You'll have to be more specific.”

Elayn glanced around. They were surrounded by people, and while many of them were talking and creating something of a din, it was not loud enough to drown out their conversation. “Is there somewhere else we can talk?” she asked him.

The boy-- Trystan-- nodded eagerly without a moment's thought. “The library, since lectures are going there won't be so many people in there. And we might find a tome on whatever you've got in mind. This way!”

He led her up a spiral of stairs to the side of the hall, not to the main stairway she had seen upon walking in. They went down a few hallways, passing a few students and faculty who looked at Elayn with surprise-- until they realized Trystan was leading her. Then their eyes were all for him, and filled with… Was that resentment? Contempt?

“How long have you been here, Trystan?” she asked, hardly breathing heavily after the last set of stairs they had ascended.

“All my life-- well, as long as I've been old enough to be a student here.” He did some figures on his fingers. “Six years, since I was sixteen, and that was only because I badgered the dean into it.”

Badgered indeed, he must have earned his place and done well to do it so young.

She found herself growing concerned, and could not help asking, “How do you find it?”

Trystan hummed and stopped before a shut set of double doors. “I love books, even if my colleagues are-- well, let's just say they're not the friendliest bunch. But, look!”

And with that final word, he reached out and flung open the doors. Elayn's jaw dropped at the sight that greeted her.

Her first thought was that she had to bring Serana here. Surely after they dealt with whatever plagued Vicenza, they would have time for Trystan to show them more of the university. He seemed a friendly fellow, eager to assist.

The fact that he was a werewolf was not the only reason she felt inclined to keep an eye on him.

The library was magnificent. The little of it Elayn could see that was not blocked off by massive shelves. The rows extended far, stuffed full of books. The bookcases stretched up to the ceiling, and she could see ladders as they walked that leaned against them here and there. Trystan led her deep into the library, to a corner with a cluster of desks lit by lamps hanging from the ceiling. There, he turned to face her.

“So what are you really looking for?” he asked, a particular gleam in his eye. “It's got to be important, if you're trying to keep it hidden.”

Elayn studied him, considering how much she should share with him. Her gut told her this boy could be trusted-- after all, to be a werewolf hiding within a Catholic university, he had to be good at keeping secrets.

“There's something hurting the people in the city,” she said. “And it seems to do with the cathedral.”

His eyes went wide. “Where did you hear this from?”

“Word on the street.” She took a seat on one of the desks, one leg cocked up under her. “You live here, why haven't you heard about it?”

“I don't leave the university much,” he said, looking sheepish. “The other students go to the taverns, but I only joined them the one time they invited me. I just like to read more than I like to imbibe.”

Not that trying would do him any good anymore. He had to have been turned, not born, and recently, to appear so human, other than his eyes. How long had it been?

Seizing on that thought, she pinned him with a stare rather than responding. He stiffened when it became clear she would not drop her gaze. But rather than take it as a challenge, he flinched back and looked away from her.

“When did you get attacked?” she asked, watching Trystan carefully.

At first he laughed, and began to ask, “What are you talking abo--”

Only to freeze when it dawned on him.

“I won't tell a soul,” she hurried to assure him in a low tone. “But you have to know what you are.”

“How did you know?” he demanded, a scowl hardening his boyish features. “I never said--” 

She cut him off. “Anyone that knew what they were looking for would see your eyes,” she told him firmly. “It's sheer luck no one around here noticed.”

“They were grey before,” he said. “It wasn't much of a change.”

“In the light, perhaps, but have you looked in a mirror in the dark?”

The boy's scowl deepened. “So how is it that you know what you're looking for?”

In answer, she slid off the desk and took a few steps closer. To his credit, he only leaned back on one foot before he stood firm. She looked him in the eye, and saw the moment he understood.

If she thought understanding would ease him, she was sorely mistaken. His breathing hitched and sped up, and he scrambled back, putting a good bit of space between them.

“G-get out of here,” he ordered, which was undermined by his stutter. “Now.”

Feeling as though she failed, and without another word, she went.

Chapter Text

“He just told you to go?” Serana asked, lying reclined on the bed while Elayn paced the length of the room.

“He wanted nothing to do with me once he knew what I was-- what we are.” She ran her hand through her hair, which was starting to resemble a hedgehog.

Serana sighed and sat up so she could scoot to the end of the bed. “Elayn, come here.”

She stopped as she reached the wall and turned around to look at Serana with wide eyes.

“Elayn,” she repeated firmly. “Come here.”

At first, her werewolf stayed where she was, but then suddenly the hard line went out of her shoulders and she approached. As she did, Serana reached out to turn her around and direct her to sit in front of the bed between her legs. When Elayn did, she put a finger on the crown of her head to tip it back and carded her hand through her hair.

Slowly, her werewolf's tension started to abate, and her eyes slid shut. “Why don't I go talk to him tomorrow?” Serana murmured. “The way you told it, you might have scared him.”

“Why would he listen to you though? No offense,” Elayn added when she opened her eyes saw Serana's eyebrow raise.

Her lips curved up. “I can be convincing.”

Elayn took in a long breath, that was just as lengthy when she released it. “Alright,” she said. “Thank you.”

They sat in comfortable silence, as a rumble started up in her werewolf's throat. It broke after a while so she could ask, “How did it go at the church?”

Serana hummed. “I didn't find out much. The new Father seems nice, and there's something wrong with the children, but nothing we didn't already know. “

“Well, damn,” Elayn said. “Maybe you can actually dig up something at the university, you're better with the books anyway.”

Suddenly, she sat up and twisted around so she was looking at Serana, and her heart ached in a good way to see the excitement in her eyes. “You've got to see the library, luv, there's so much in it. You'll love it.”

She giggled a little. “I'm excited to see it. Is it bigger than the one in the castle?”

“I'm not sure,” Elayn admitted. “I never saw that one.” 

Oh. That was right. A sudden chill descended on Serana's spine as they were both reminded of their days in the castle. Hers were long and fraught with tension, but Elayn had been held prisoner. And Serana, her captor.

The bond must have told Elayn more or less the direction her thoughts were going, and suddenly she found herself sitting before her werewolf, kneeling on the ground and clutching her hands like they were precious.

“You know I don't blame you for what your father did to me, right?” she asked, demanding the answer.

“I…” Looking her right in the eyes, Serana found she couldn't lie. “I put a collar on you, Elayn.”

Her werewolf-- how could Serana claim to own her after what she had been through? But the bond shone with the sudden conviction of love, of trust. “To protect me,” Elayn pointed out. “If you hadn't, the other vampires could have done so much worse to me.”

“But--”

Elayn surged up and kissed Serana until, the vampire who did not need to breathe, felt breathless. She pulled away only enough to rest her forehead against the other woman's. “I love you,” she said. “Never question that.”

And Serana found she could not.

Chapter Text

Serana had slept through the day while Elayn was at the university. They had gone to bed for other activities than sleeping a few hours after night had fallen, and gone to sleep a couple hours after that. Serana rose again with the dawn, and when she cracked the shutters on their window to look outside, she saw it was quite cloudy. The air felt heavy, as thought it would rain quite soon. It was a boon to Serana, as it meant that she could don a cloak without drawing attention, given that it was summer. So she did, leaving Elayn to snore sprawled in bed while she slipped out.

The rain started to come down harder as Serana made her way to the university. Fortunately, the oiled cloth of her cloak kept her dry. There were few other people on the street as she walked.

The streets were long and winding but they eventually lead her to her destination. She looked up at the enormous building-- nearly the size of her father's castle, the only real point of reference she had for architecture. She ascended the steps leading to a set of large doors. Only two of them were open, the other four closed, which made sense given the hour. No one paid her any mind as she stepped inside the entry hall of the university, and lowered her hood.

Above, there were panels of glass in the ceiling that would normally let sunlight illuminate the hall, but it was also lit by sconces on the wall and a few braziers burning at equidistant points in the hall.

While she considered how exactly she was to find this Trystan Wilde, she caught sight of brilliant red hair, and attached to it was a young man speaking with some people who looked a little older than him. He looked pale, tired, and rather done with the conversation if Serana was any judge. He said something that drew a reaction from one he was speaking with, in the form of a fist.

It was a very good thing that there were so few people in the hall at this time of day. If there were, there would have been more witnesses attesting to the speed with which Serana moved. The fist connected, but she was there as the young man fell back, shoving his attacker back.

“Aren't you men of knowledge?” she demanded when she was met with outrage. “Settle things with your words, prove you know how to use them.”

The one who had punched the young man looked ready to argue, but one of his friends caught him by the shoulder. “It's not worth it, Ignacio,” he said. The man who was apparently called Ignacio made a noise of contempt and stalked off with the rest in tow. 

“Are you alright?” she asked, turning to the young man.

“Yeah I'm-- I'm fine.” He rubbed at his jaw. “Lucky they're bookworms and don't know how to throw a punch.”

Serana smiled. “Lucky indeed. I'm Serana, and you are?”

“Trystan,” he said. “Thanks. I should be getting back to my studies.”

It was close, but she restrained her reaction. Well, this part was easy, now to… speak with him. In all honest she had not considered exactly what she would say. She just knew that she had to get him to trust Elayn, because surely being a lone werewolf in a city well-controlled by the church was a dangerous affair.

“Actually,” she said, dragging out the last syllable. “I had something I needed to research. Perhaps you could help me?”

Trystan looked her up and down with an analytical eye that she was sure had nothing to do with attraction. His eyes hardened as they swept back up to meet hers.

“Gold eyes,” he said, quiet enough that it did not carry to any ears but hers. “What are you?”

Well, this was not how she expected this encounter to go. “What do you think I am?” she asked, hoping her smile would cover her unease.

Rather than answer, he made a frustrated noise that sounded like the one Elayn usually made, and grabbed her by the arm. His grip was strong, but she was fairly certain she could break it. She did not, and followed him wherever he was leading.

He burst through a set of dark wood double doors and Serana gasped at her first sight of the library. She was dragged through it without much time to admire, but Elayn had been right, she wanted to spend a lot more time in it.

Eventually Trystan came to a stop in a tucked-away corner of the library with empty desks. “You know Elayn, don't you?” he demanded in a hush as he rounded on her. “Don't lie to me!”

“I didn't plan to,” Serana said, raising her hands pacifyingly. “Yes, I know her, and I'm here for the same reason she was. And… to talk to you.”

He continued to scowl, but it eased a tad in surprise. “Talk to me? Why? Aren't you going to threaten me? And just what are you anyway?”

It might not have been the best call, but she smiled at him, showing fang. “I asked you before, what do you think I am?”

He stared at her for a moment, then said, “Vampire. Am I right?”

Serana nodded. “But I'm not a danger to you. I get along quite well with werewolves.”

His reaction was almost comically exaggerated as his eyes went huge as dinner plates and he whipped his head around as though searching for eavesdroppers. “Don't say that out loud,” he hissed. “They'll have me burned at the stake. It's bad enough having red hair.”

“I will do my best to make sure no one finds out,” she told him. “But, I have questions. How have you managed to go this long without anyone finding out?”

“I'm smart, and I'm careful,” he told her, without a shred of bravado.

How could she tell him he had merely been lucky? It would not be received well, and would go against her mission for being here in the first place, which was to find out what kind of demon was attacking children and elderly priests.

“Look, I'm not here to try and scare you,” she said earnestly. “I need to find out whatever is making the children in the orphanage sick.”

From the look on his face, Elayn hadn't mentioned that. “Ch-children?” he asked. “Oh God no. I didn't know kids were getting sick.”

“Whatever you think of what Elayn is-- what you are-- I promise you we're on the side of angels here.”

He laughed, and it sounded genuine. “That's funny coming from a v-- Well, from you.”

It made her smile. “So, books?”

Chapter Text

Elayn woke to find Serana gone, which did not surprise her. Their bond would have alerted her if something was wrong, and when she looked outside, she saw it was the perfect day for her mistress to go and find her own clues to the mystery of the cathedral. To that end, after she got some food in her belly, she would go poking around herself. Once she ate, she donned her cloak and went out into the drizzling rain.

Elayn heard a clock strike twelve just as she rounded the corner to the cathedral. The great building loomed menacingly in a way that the university had not, despite being bigger. Steeling herself, she went inside.

It was Saturday, which seemed to mean that the pew-filled nave was also full of people. Not so many as she would assume there would be during a service, and they were certainly moving around a lot more than she would expect. It was the perfect cover for her to slip to the back of the room where steps led up and down, and a few doors led to other parts of the cathedral. She went through one, following the faint scent of sticky sweetness that children usually carried.

But as she got closer, she realized some of that sweetness was sickly. It grew stronger as she drew closer to what she assumed was the orphanage. There was not much in the way of noises she would expect from a place full of children.

She would have investigated further, had a door not opened with enough force that it would have hurt even her had she been hit by it. It slammed into the wall and through it came a woman in a nun's habit, backing through with her arms full of cups and bowls. She did not notice Elayn until--

“Oh no!” she exclaimed, losing her load of dishes as bumped into Elayn. She whirled around, eyes wide, clutching her chest. “Excuse me, I didn't see you there.”

“It's alright,” Elayn said, crouching down to help her gather the dishes. “Nothing broken, right?”

She looked up and met Elayn's eyes, and the werewolf felt a strange shudder go up her spine. The smell of dying grew stronger.

“Right,” she said with a smile that took a moment too long to be real. “Can I help you with something? Visitors aren't supposed to be back here.”

Elayn had expected as much, but she feigned surprise. “Oh, really? I'm sorry, I was just exploring.”

They each stood, the nun with her armload of dishes and a shrewd stare barely masked by friendliness. “Yes, well, you should go back the way you came, it will take you right back to the nave.”

Something funny was going on here. Elayn's instincts were clamoring for danger, though that danger was not obvious. And the smell, it was thick in her nose now, cloying and nauseating.

“Right, thank you,” she said, ducking her head to give herself a moment to keep her teeth from baring. It galled her to do it, but she put her back to the strange nun and left.

When she returned to the tavern, she caught sight of two shadows under the door, heard talking behind it, and stopped short of opening it. Her nerves were on edge from the encounter in the cathedral with a nun she was certain was more than what she seemed. She took a deep breath through her nose, sorting through the many scents to find what was beyond the door.

Serana, her nose told her, and someone else, a scent that she recognized but not clearly. Without thinking, she threw open the door, and followed the scent to its source.

“Elayn, wait!”

She froze mid-way to grabbing the person who was not Serana, someone she quickly realized was Trystan from the library. He had not reacted beyond surprise, and since he had been standing against the wall, that's where Elayn very nearly had him pinned.

She took a step back as soon as all this processed. "Sorry about that." 

“No problem,” said Trystan, wide-eyed and panting.

She stepped back to stand against the wall opposite him, and Serana sat on the edge of the bed so she was no longer in between them. “So,” her mistress said. “I thought you two should have another chance to talk. I told Trystan that no matter what, it's his life to choose what to do with.”

Elayn very nearly blurted out an argument-- after all, it was not safe for him to stay in the university. Perhaps somewhere else the church did not have such a strong grip on, but certainly not northern Italy.

But there was a look in Serana's eyes that she knew meant her mate had already considered that, and still meant what she said, and Elayn realized she was right. She might be alpha, but she would not inflict her will on someone else.

“Alright,” she said instead. “Thank you for coming.”

“I want to know more,” Trystan told her. “All I know is that bloody meat is ambrosia, I turn into a wolf at the moon's peak, and I have a temper that I used to have no trouble with.”

Elayn nodded slowly. “That's part of it. Have you been injured since you were turned?”

“No.”

“You'll heal very fast if you do,” she said. “Best to keep a bandage over it for a while anyway.”

Trystan blew out a breath as he considered that. “Will I die?”

“Not for a very long time.” She stopped him before he could ask her to clarify with a finger. “I don't know how long, just that the old wolves I've heard of were well over three hundred.”

She gave him a little while to think in silence. When he did not seem to have any other questions yet, she decided to ask one of her own. “You never told me, how long has it been since you were turned?"

Trystan stared at the wall for a little while before he answered. “Six months,” he said. “I was out in the country looking for herbs. I-I dabble in some magic, potions mainly, and the moon was full, so it was perfect for collecting luna flower seeds.”

“I heard a noise,” he said, a frown settling on his features. “Something in the bushes behind me. I thought it was a bird I disturbed, and I turned around, and--”

He broke off with a heavy shudder. “All I remember is teeth. I woke up bleeding, badly, but I managed to drag myself back to the city.”

“No, wait,” he said, looking at her. “I remember now, the medicos looking over me said my recovery was miraculous.”

Elayn, who had been born a werewolf, and had never seen a human turned, said, “I can only imagine.”

“So what do I do now?” he asked. “You said it's dangerous for me to stay here. You're not wrong.”

She did not have anything better to say than, “Sleep on it, think hard. You do not have to decide tonight. But yes, you are in danger from the church if anyone discovers what you are.”

He nodded solemnly. 

Chapter Text

“So what exactly have you put together about this demon?” Trystan asked, standing in front of a desk piled with books. “What exactly has it done?”

It was just past nightfall, but their scholarly ally was able to bring them into the university anyway; which was good, because the clouds were breaking up, enough that it was clear Serana would not be able to go outside again the next day without her cloak drawing attention. The sooner they handled the demon, the better.

Serana thought about that for a moment. “It poisons children,” she said. “Only one adult connected to the cathedral has died.”

“It smells sweet the way rotting flesh does,” Elayn added.

Trystan looked as though he had a question to ask, but instead sniffed the air. “Sweet like a vampire?”

She shook her head. “Less dusty. It almost had a note like soured milk.”

“Milk?” That seemed to be the key word. He opened a book and flipped through pages until he found the one he wanted.

“The Father is the only adult who died?” he asked, scanning the text.

“As near as I can tell,” Elayn confirmed.

“‘Striga, a demon created from the death of a witch,’” he read out. “‘Known to devour the life of men, and to poison children with its milk. It is not an omen, but in fact a bringer of pain and suffering.’”

That seemed right. “Does it say what it looks like?” Serana asked.

Trystan read a little further. “Uhhh… ‘This creature often wears such features as the body of a woman, the face of a bat, and the talons of a rat.’”

Thinking about that nun Serana saw, she asked, “Can it take human form?”

“That's how it says it hides,” he confirmed.

Elayn must have been thinking of the same woman, because she said, “There was a nun with the children, and the scent was strongest around her. How do we fight it?”

It was a few moments before Trystan read to the appropriate line. “Here it says it can be killed by blessed silver, fire, or beheading.” He scratched his head. “I heard once that one of the demonology faculty  has a blessed silver blade, I would have to find out who though.”

“So we know what it likely is, and how to kill it,” Serana said. “But how can we be sure this nun is truly the demon?”

“Press the blade against her skin? See if she jumps away if you stick a torch in her face?” Trystan paused. “Well, I suppose anyone would react badly to those things.”

Elayn started pacing. “I bet I can goad it into showing it's true form. If I do it near witnesses, there's no way it will start a fight when it could be discovered.”

“Then while you're doing that--” Serana looked to Trystan. “Should we go find that silver knife?”

“That sounds like a plan to me,” he said, closing the book with a thud. “But I think it should just be me. I'll have to ask around during daylight hours, and you'll need to sleep by then.”

Put off by the idea that she would not be able to do more, but aware of the reality of their situation, Serana nodded. “You're right. I'll stay in our room. When we're ready, we'll go after her in the night.”

Elayn chuckled. “Breaking into a cathedral, this will be fun.”

She and Serana went back to the tavern soon after the plan was set into tentative stone. It was late, but not yet midnight, so the establishment was crowded with people blowing off steam after a hard day's work. While she went to sleep, Serana stayed up with a book, but she had succumbed to slumber by the time Elayn woke up the next morning. In the brightness of a newly risen sun, she made her way for the cathedral.

This time, the cathedral was full of people there for the Sunday service. It meant that there were eyes to catch her going in from the front, so Elayn circled the building to find another way in. Her searching found her an open window, one that she hauled herself up to and through with little difficulty despite it being a foot beyond her reach. It only took a jump and heave and she was through, and soon going down the halls in search of her prey.

It was harder to follow a scent that was spread around an enclosed space than one might think. Elayn found herself going in circles, searching for the strongest, freshest traces. It eventually led her to a spiral staircase descending down, down, down, until she found herself in the crypts. What was the demon doing here? Should it not be around the children?

“Well, well, well,” a voice sweet as honey gone rancid said from behind her, and Elayn whirled.

Only for a wave of sickly sweet to wash over her. She found her limbs and eyelids growing heavy, as the nun from the day before approached her with a predatory lope. She was smirking when Elayn saw her in the light. 

“Look at this, a lost puppy,” the demon crooned, eyes flashing red, and Elayn could not pull away as she--it-- drew a sharp nail down the line of her jaw. “You've chased down bigger prey than you can handle, mutt, and now you're mine.”

And suddenly sickly sweetness clouded her mind, and she knew no more.

Chapter Text

It was night, Serana had been awake for an hour, and there was no sign of Elayn. While she had slept she had had nightmares, about a horrible smell clogging her nose and muffling her mind, like she was being buried in cotton. At first she had dismissed it as just a dream and gone back to sleep, but now that it was getting to late, she was worried.

A knock at the door distracted her, and she opened it to find Trystan on the other side with a wooden box under his arm. “I got what we needed,” he said. “I had to, er, borrow it, and we'll have to clean it before I give it back.”

“Come in, come in,” she said, stepping back. “Have you seen Elayn? She should have been back by now.”

He looked surprised. “No, I haven't at all. Do you think..?”

“I'm starting to,” she said, guessing where he his logic was going. “We need to go after her!”

“Alright, we will, but--” He reached out to put a hand on her shoulder. “I heard once that if you go into a fight distracted, you'll lose that fight.”

She glared at him, why did he not understand? “My mate is in danger, I can't just sit here.”

“I'm not saying you should,” he hurried to assure her. “But we need to be ready.”

Recognizing the truth in what he was saying, Serana stopped, and took a deep breath she did not need. “Okay,” she said once she had exhaled. “You're right. We need to be careful, especially if the demon was able to take Elayn down.”

Her words seemed to make him think, and thinking seemed to make him nervous. “If she couldn't fight it, how can we?”

“We've got a weapon,” she reminded him, gesturing to the box. “It should be enough.”

When there was nothing left to plan or discuss, Serana and Trystan left the tavern and started for the cathedral. The day had been hot enough to dry the rain from the day before, and now it was humid even without the sun beating down on them. It did not bother Serana overly, except that it made the air seem heavier, and that made it seem like what they were about to do was that much more insurmountable. Elayn was easily the most combat capable of them, and the Striga had taken her.

Soon, too soon and yet not soon enough, the cathedral was in sight. The doors were closed. “Do you think they're barred?” Serana asked, pointing.

Trystan hummed. “Likely, but I think I have another way in. Follow me.”

On the backside of the cathedral was a graveyard, gated and chained. She called to her the blood and strength surged through her enough to break the chain and the metal gate swung open with an eery screech. She would have to feed soon.

“This way,” Trystan said, and led her to a crypt. “There's a way into the catacombs below the cathedral in here, we can get in through there.”

The crypt had no lock. Inside, the air smelled of mildew and stone. There was indeed a trap door in the car right corner, and a ladder under it leading down into a short tunnel. They entered a series of low-ceiling rooms carved of the stone. In the walls were tombs.

A few steps in, Serana stopped, because she heard… Singing? It was too faint to make out the words, but the sound of it raised hairs on the back of her neck. She turned to Trystan, put a finger to her lips, and pointed in the direction of the sound.

As they crept closer through the torchlit passages, the singing grew more distinct, and more unpleasant. Serana wanted to claw at her ears to make it stop, but she pushed on, feeling her lips bare her teeth as she did.

Around a corner ahead Serana saw brighter light and she held up a hand to stop Trystan as she crept closer to look into the room.

What she saw nearly sent her wild. 

Elayn was bound to a chair in the middle of the space, and she had a dazed and hollow look. One that worsened when Serana saw a creature like that which she had never seen before lean down and kiss Elayn like it was trying to devour her. When it moved away, the singing started again, and her mate looked even worse.

There was a hand on her shoulder, and when she looked back she realized she had started to growl.

“Can you shift?” she mouthed, not daring to even whisper.

At first Trystan looked confused, then his eyes widened as he understood. Then frowned, and shook his head, and she had to fight to keep from cursing, a habit she had picked up from Elayn.

Alright, she thought, then the original plan.

While the creature's back was to the two of them, Serana drew the silver knife and crept forward. She was a foot from the creature, knife raised, when--

“Oh dear,” the beast said, chuckling as it whirled and swiped in one fluid motion, sending Serana into a collision with a tomb. “Visitors!”

Its voice was as horrible as its singing, sweet like poison and full of the motherly love of a spider. It floated around her as Serana called the blood to repair the bones that had broken when she collided. She panted as she came back to her feet, felt the skin of her face tighten and her hunger grow.

The Striga did not rush at her. Instead, it moved in a way that forced her to circle the room, until it stood behind Elayn and dragged a talon down her face. “You've come to rescue your love, but she is already mine. You should die soon, or I might play with you before I finish you off.”

“You will not touch her!” Serana screamed, launching herself through the air at the Striga.

The knife came down on its arm as it brought the limb up to block her attack. Her blow did force it back toward the wall, away from Elayn, and Serana felt a vicious thrill. One that increased when she heard a cracking battle cry and Trystan attacked the creature from its side, and Serana heard bones crack where his fists struck. Clinging to its arm, her feet swinging in the air, she drove the knife down toward its heart.

If only it were so easy.

The Striga screamed again, and the sound bored its way like an iron poker into Serana's ears. She dropped the knife and clapped her hands to her head as she fell to her knees, and it did nothing to ease the pain. She saw Trystan collapse to the floor through watering eyes, and then saw the Striga shake.

It was with laughter.

“Now,” it said. “Now I have two. Ah, the luck.”

Chapter Text

Elayn's head felt like someone had stuffed it with cotton and then set the cotton on fire. She burned in darkness, thrashed against it, but still something held her. And every moment she felt herself slipping further.

Then, she heard noise, faint as though from a distance. Voices. Yelling. They sounded familiar but the specifics of who the voices belonged to was lost to her.

Screaming. Awful screaming. It dragged her back from the darkness, woke her up a bit, and reinvigorated her in her fight. She found her eyes again, made them blink, and though they were fuzzy she could again see with them.

Was that… Serana? Fighting? What an awful creature. She had to do something, had to protect her mate.

The wolf within her howled, and she could do nothing.

Serana was on her knees, the Striga-- that's what it was! What had her!-- standing over her. It turned back to Elayn, crouched beside her, and dragged a burning claw across her cheek. She felt warmth drip down her face, then a horribly long, wet tongue lap at the blood.

“Werewolf,” the Striga purred. “A flavor I haven't sampled in so long.”

Elayn refused to clench her eyes shut. And because she did not, she saw when Serana changed. Between one moment and the next, her mate's face became skeletal, pale and bloodless, and her bared fangs lengthened. The blazing gold that was her eyes was streaked with ruby.

She moved as a blur, leaping at the Striga without a weapon. Elayn heard flesh impact flesh, claws rend, and could not see what happened next, only that suddenly the Striga's head was rolling on the rough hewn stone floor.

When it did, awareness snapped back to Elayn. Suddenly she knew exactly where she was, what was happening, what had happened. And she saw very clearly when Serana slumped down beside the Striga's beheaded corpse that she was hurt, badly. Like a werewolf, she would recover, but only if she fed.

Only… If she fed.

With a grunt of effort Elayn tore through the ropes binding her to the chair and stood, shucking off the cordage. She went to Trystan first, to see if he was breathing, and when she was reasonably sure he would recover, she knelt down to gather Serana in her arms and sat down against a wall, making sure to rest her mate's face against her neck.

The blood flowing through her veins roused Serana, and she shifted. “‘Layn-- what is-- I'm so thirsty,” she finished in a raspy whimper.

“Drink,” Elayn told her, bringing a hand up to cradle the back of her mate's head.

In the condition she was in, Elayn did not have to tell her twice. She felt lips brush her neck, then teeth sank in, and she let out a hiss as Serana drank.

It was… Not like what Vingalmo had done to her. It felt like something sacred, intimate, and though it ached, she did not regret her decision.

When Serana had fed enough to come back to herself, she knew because her mate drew back in sudden shock. “I--” She touched her lips, bloody red, and horror dawned on her face.

Before she could say anything, Elayn leaned forward and nipped her nose. “If you apologize,” she said. “I won't thank you for saving my hide.”

She looked like she would argue for a moment, then her expression softened as she chuckled. “I can accept that.” Her eyes twinkled and she said, “You're welcome, by the way.”

Elayn pulled her mate to her chest, rested her chin on top of her head, and they sat there until Trystan began to stir.

“God,” he said as he sat up, rubbing his head. “Did we survive? We must have. If the afterlife hurts this much then my father must have been wrong.”

“About?” Elayn asked dryly, as though there were not a corpse three feet from them.

Trystan grinned. “Mother was Jewish, Father was a God-fearing Catholic, and since he stuck around longer on this mortal coil than she did, I'm a God-fearing Catholic too.”

Well he certainly did not seem too cut up about being an orphan. Elayn laughed. “I think I like you, kid.”

Whatever he meant to respond with, it was interrupted as Elayn heard thumping footsteps running towards them. Many of them. Before anyone arrived, Elayn wiped her neck clean, grateful the bite marks would be healed. Although to be fair, she could easily blame them on the demon. She was going to have to gargle spirits for a week. 

“What in God's name--?” The Father Serana said she had spoken to was the first there, and he stared in horror at the Striga for a moment before he looked to the living three.

“Explain yourselves, immediately!” he demanded.

Of course, once Elayn explained that this was the demon that had been making the children sick, the good Father was a lot more charitable in his view of the situation.

“A demon, in our cathedral.” He shook his head. “Heaven forbid. We owe you a great debt of gratitude for what you've done.”

“Your thanks is enough, Father,” Elayn told him, because really there was nothing she could think to want besides a chance to curl up with Serana, and he did not need to know that.

He gave her a look she could only describe as “shrewd”, but nodded all the same. “Then you have it.”

Chapter Text

Serana was able to walk out of the catacombs and away from the cathedral of her own power, thanks to Elayn. Her werewolf's blood was strong, stronger than human. It left her feeling invigorated, despite her exertion.

Elayn, on the other hand, staggered against a wall not far from the tavern. “Just- just give me a minute. I'm fine,” she said when Serana reached for her.

“Are you okay?” she asked, hands still half outstretched to grab her werewolf if she fell.

“Whatever that demon did, it took a lot out of me.” Elayn shut her eyes, shivered, and when she opened them again they were glowing. “I'll be fine after I get some rest. How are you holding up, Trystan?”

Her deflection worked, and Serana looked to their other companion. He gave a thumbs up. “I'm with you on the rest idea. Do you want me to walk back with you?”

She shook her head. “If you're tired, go home. Thank you for the help.”

Serana glanced up at the cloudless sky. The moon was almost full, it would be within a few nights. “Will you be okay?” she asked him.

He grinned in response. “I'm always okay. Don't you worry about me.”

And with that he left, whistling a tune as he walked.

When he was gone, Elayn shoved herself off the wall. “I think I'm good. Let's go.”

Finally, they made it back to their room. It was very late, approximately three in the morning, and there was only one person in the tavern, sitting behind the bar with their head propped up on their hand. While she went in and collapsed on the bed, Serana went to the bar.

“I don't suppose you've got any food left,” she said when the woman looked up at her. She was older, her hair streaked with grey. Was she the barkeep's wife?

The woman yawned and nodded. “Sorry about that, yes I do, just some bread and salt pork. Will it do?”

“It will, thank you,” Serana said, passing a few coins to her.

She took the food to Elayn, who was sprawled on the bed when she went in. She sat up at the smell of food, took it with a word of gratitude, and dug in.

“Thanks,” she said when she was done, and wiped her mouth clean. “How are you feeling?”

Serana smiled and sat next to her on the bed. Elayn's response was to set her plate on the nightstand and lean back on the bed, dragging Serana with her, until their legs were hanging off the edge. She curled into her side, head on her werewolf's shoulder, and Elayn's hand came up to stroke her hair.

“Just once,” she said, breaking the quiet. “I'd like to go somewhere without having to fight.”

Serana leaned up to kiss her. “We'll find somewhere quiet next, away from people.”

Elayn husked a laugh. “I think I'd like that.”

Her werewolf fell asleep soon, and she soon followed.

They slept through the rest of the night and the following day. At twilight, they each had their bags packed and slipped out the city gate before it closed for the night.

Then, at little ways down the road, Elayn stopped midstride, and cocked her head to the side. “Do you hear that?”

“Hear what?” Serana asked, looking around. “Danger?”

“I don't… think so. Wait, is that--?”

She cut off and as she did, Elayn heard shouting. “... Hey!... Up!”

The two of them turned around, and around the bend came speeding a familiar red-headed figure, waving his arm as he ran. He quickly caught up to them, barely panting.

“I'm glad I caught you,” he said. “I was afraid you'd get too far, but I caught your scent outside the gate, so I followed you.”

Serana glanced at the pack he was carrying on his back. “Going somewhere?”

He grinned. “With you!”

Elayn stepped toward and crossed her arms, frowning at him. “Why?”

His grin slowly faded away as he looked at her. “I… there's nothing for me here, except the university. No family, no friends. And you were right, I could get caught. I thought, maybe if I went with you, you could teach me about what I am?” he finished, the last word curving up like a question.

Without saying a word, Elayn's gaze bored into him. He went from looking uncertain to nervous. “If that's okay, I mean,” he said hesitantly.

A slight smile cracked her stony veneer, and she stepped closer so she could clap him on the shoulder. He took it with a grunt as she said, “I think that would be alright. Serana?”

She nodded. He had been a good deal of help dealing with the Striga, and she could not deal with the guilt of what would likely happen to him if they left Trystan behind.

What's all this? Purple eyes blinked from the shadows. Salem was back.

“Whoa!” Trystan shouted, jumping back from the spirit. “What is that?”

“Shadow spirit,” Serana explained. “Be respectful.”

Though their features were obscured by darkness, she got the sudden impression of Salem curling their lip in disgust. Another wolf. You test me, Elayn.

“You don't have to follow us, you know,” her werewolf responded. “If it's that much of a bother. It's not like I'm going to let him chase you up a tree.”

Purple eyes blinked. Before Salem could say anything else, Trystan approached and knelt down before them with wide, eager eyes. “I've never met a spirit before. Why are you traveling with them?”

I owe a debt, Salem said. I stay until it is repaid.

“I promise I won't disturb you.”

They considered him for a moment, then the shadow stirred as they nodded. That is acceptable.

With that settled, Serana looked on up the road. “So where do we go now?” she asked.

“Wherever our feet take us,” Elayn said with a rare grin.