Calponia couldn't imagine Mack's expression but Mr. Henderson physically flinched before he recovered, drawing up his deceptively frail frame with a bold sneer.

"Last one to the party Macklemore," he said. There was a pause before he spoke again, a softness to his voice that confused her. "I used to think you were the smartest being in existence."

Mack clearly wasn't expecting the shift in tone either. His shoulders hunched as he shifted fully in front of Calponia, blocking her from view. It felt like a physical weight lifted from her. She sagged back as awareness crashed down on her, sitting in a rapidly cooling puddle of Eugene's blood. Her stomach clenched, a watery tremor moving up through her muscles. She shoved to her feet, grasping at the metal pinning him to the wall. She had to snap it off, yank it out, something, she had to get it out of him. The moment she wrapped her blood slicked hands around it, Eugene hissed, reaching up to clamp an iron grip on her wrists.

"Don't," he whispered. She stared at him, mesmerized by the fear, and feral rage glaring down at her. His jaw worked, lips white, too white. The fingers wrapped around her wrists were tight to the point of pain, but she could feel them tremble through her bones. "Don't."

She nodded. A warm spill of tears down slid down her cheeks. Her hands dropped to her sides when he released her.

"Obviously that is not the case," said Mack. Her words snapped her back to the moment, and the still very present threat of Henderson. She swallowed. Peering over her shoulder at them, not quite willing to turn away from the vampire. She caught a glimpse of Henderson's hand as it curled into a tight fist. Injured and cornered were never a good combination for dangerous beings.

"Indeed," said Henderson. She could feel his eyes on her. Glancing up to find him peeking around Mack's wide shoulders. "It seems you are still in the dark about a great many things." She knew he referred to her. The fact Henderson knew more about her past than she did made her skin crawl.

"Why are you doing this, Jacob?" The note of pleading in Mack's voice was far worse. The weight of so much history between them lent an unwanted, painful intimacy to the moment. Calponia dragged a breath through her lungs. Henderson appeared to feel the same, sucking in a deep inhale.

"How could you not know? How could you not see? Even now!" His fist clenched so tight his knuckles burned a sickly sallow white. "It was your choice, your folly, that made all of this happen, Macklemore." He slammed his fist back against the wall. The outline of the door shuddered, grinding as the way began to open. "You will see by the end," Henderson promised, a cold anger frosting each word that left his mouth. "I will shred your sanctuary at its foundations, but first..."

His smile was cold and cruel as he looked directly at her, eyes like flint as they examined her. "Preparations, preparations. Try not to die until then, my dear."

"You son of a bitch." Mack snapped forward, grasping air as Henderson dissolved into smoke and shadows, fleeing through the cracked doorway. The wall reformed as if the door never existed. "Dammit!" Mack slapped the wall, leaving a slight dent under his palm.

"I'd appreciate it if you prevented yourself from putting further holes in my ship," Ravelock gritted through his teeth. His voice startled her. The Captain looked worse for wear, wan and bloodied, but the Munch had managed to work the sliver of metal free from his shoulder, dressing a wound that bled surprisingly little for its depth.

A deep groan rose from Eugene, ending with a choking breath that made her heart ache.

"Mack?" Calponia whispered.

The tavern master didn't turn to look at her, staring at the dent he'd left in the wall.

"How thoroughly I have failed you," he said softly.

"What?" She hugged herself, smashing down the urge to reach for him. To reach for the vampire. To reach for anyone. Touch no one.

"Get her out of here," Eugene hissed.

She flinched.

Mack turned at that, his blue eyes swathed in shadows as he took in the injuries of the others. His gaze flickered over Calponia, not quite resting on her. "Captain, is there somewhere Cal can clean up?"

The dismissal felt like a slap.

"Come along, Dove, I'll show you our fancy cleansing chamber," Ravelock spoke with a soft teasing tone, offering her a shadow of his usual cocky grin despite the physical strain he was under. It thawed the chill she felt inside, allowing her rational side to rally as she glanced back at the other two. Eugene she could understand. Fear laced the sharp angles of his face, not of her, but for her. And Mack...

Her breath caught at the lost expression on his face.

"Let 'em kempose 'em selves," said the Munch, supporting the bulk of Ravelock's weight as they ferried her away. Ravelock paused at a touchpad embedded into the wall, tapping in a command. The door to the cargo room silently slid shut behind them.

"Fine mess you've gotten yourself into," said Mack, testing the structure neatly pinning the vampire in place. "It missed your heart. I'd call it luck if it was anyone other than Jacob."

The vampire's head lolled, peering down at him through crimson slits. "Did you ever suspect?" His voice was weak, but threaded with steel that entirely belonged to the Blood Prince.

The sensation of cold sand crackled through his veins. "Not once," Mack admitted, a truth that cost him. Jacob Henderson never once entered his mind as someone with the potential and ability to be the Hooded Man. Or as someone with the motivation to do so.

"Do you know why?"

Mack probed the blank spots, frustration welling. The Edgewise hovered just beyond his conscious thought, but he swore he could sense the tavern's....worry. It was an emotion far more complex than he thought the tavern capable of. Another ponderous thought he couldn't afford to dwell on. Instead, he focused on the moment, reaching for a thread of the tavern's energy which jumped to his call. He wrapped a physical hand around the metal.

"Ready?"

"No," wheezed the vampire.

Mack withdrew the rod in one swift motion, catching Eugene with his free arm as the vampire snarled.

It took both hands to hold off the first few snaps of teeth. Claws raked along his coat sleeves, slicking through the worn leather. Mack gave him a shake hard enough to make the man's teeth rattle. "This is my favorite coat," he scolded.

Eugene responded with a lunge, but Mack ducked his head, resulting in the vampire earning a mouthful of beard. He sputtered, rocking back as the feral light dimmed in his eyes. The vampire's eyes still burned crimson but the bloodlust dissipated enough for him to sag in Mack's hold.

"Thank you," wheezed Eugene.

Mack frowned at him, the wound closing much slower than it should have. "When was the last time you fed?"

The vampire winced at the question, looking away from him. "I gave the pirate some of my blood."

"You're an idiot you know that?"

"He was dying," Eugene snapped. "And you couldn't afford to heal him."

Mack raised a brow at that. It was true a healing would deplete him, but that Eugene would notice and take action?

"Don't worry, I didn't give him enough for the virus to take hold," muttered Eugene, pulling free from Mack's hold. His legs weren't ready for the effort of supporting his frame. Mack caught him before he could slump down into his own blood pool. Eugene planted his free hand against the wall, breathing hard. "I'll heal."

"That's not what I'm worried about," said Mack.

The metal of the wall whined as the vampire's fingers curled inward. "I'll control it."

Mack snorted. "Ravelock's med bay should have a synthetic blood replicator."

Eugene sneered. "Synthetics taste like burnt plastic."

"Yes, but will it keep you from munching on the crew? I'm sure Ravelock would be irate if a few went missing."

"They already have a low enough opinion of me." The vampire drawled. He looked away with a sigh. "To the med bay then."

Mack slapped the controls, half dragging the vampire into the hall. Calponia was long gone, and his relief of her absence made him ashamed. Truthfully he was ashamed to face her, because while he'd yet to work out Jacob's full intentions, he knew his long time friend intended to use Cal to hurt Mack and the Edgewise, and he had no idea why.

The missing pieces of his memory grated on him...

He glanced sidelong at Eugene, hesitating to give voice to his question at the beads of sweat dotting the vampire's pasty pale brow.

"What is it? I can feel you brooding," said Eugene, his tone sharp and strained.

"What do you remember of Jacob?"

"The old man? He was frequent patron for years," said Eugene. "Terrible at drinking games but a decent card sharp."

"Do you remember why he stopped coming to the Edgewise?"

"Of course," said Eugene, "the argument--"

The vampire stopped so abruptly his feet slid out from under him. Mack caught him and hissed at the sound of ripped leather. Honestly, his favorite coat!

"I can't remember what you two argued about," said Eugene. His dark red eyes slid to Mack as the unsettling statement sank in.

"Like there's a blank spot in your memory?" Mack took a deep breath. "Have I ever had an apprentice before Cal?"

"No." Eugene's eyes widened. "No," he repeated but both of them heard the uncertainty in his voice.

"This will wash the blood out?"

"Technically, it will vaporize it," said Ravelock.

Calponia dubiously eyed the chamber, a disarming construction of frosted glass, completed with a padded stool to sit on. It wasn't that she didn't trust the Captain, as he'd so kindly demonstrated the machine's capabilities only moments ago on himself, she just had a feeling the technology wouldn't take kindly to her. But, with a thick crust of blood on her clothes and hands, beggars couldn't be choosers.

She gingerly sat on the stool, closing her eyes as the Munch fitted a pair of protective glasses over her eyes. The Munch went through the machine as well, though aside from the lack of blood on his person, he didn't appear much cleaner.

The little man patted her shoulder, a gesture that nearly knocked her off the stool, but Cal managed to keep her seat, now alone behind the frosted glass. As the machine hummed to life, out of sight from the two men, she quietly came undone.

It had been such a near thing, Henderson taking her, and part of her wondered if it would be better if he had. It was a thought that niggled and wore on her as Eugene's blood evaporated off her skin. Who was Eugene really? Who was Henderson really?

Who was she really?

"What malicious thoughts are churning in that pretty little head?"

A self deprecating smile tugged up the corner of her mouth. "An identity crisis of sorts," she said. "It seems I don't really know anyone, including myself."

There was a long pause. "Bullshit."

She blinked as the hum of the machine droned to a quiet stop, leaving her skin and clothing spotless. Look at that, it hadn't malfunctioned on her. She rose from the stool, poking her head around the barrier of glass at Ravelock and the Munch. "Bullshit? Henderson was my neighbor. Someone who watched over me. Someone who pretended to care for me. FOR YEARS. And don't get me started on the lot of you!"

Ravelock sat up a straighter, wincing at the pull in his shoulder. "Henderson is a right git, I'll give you that. But the rest of us? You know us better than nearly anyone in our lives."

She rolled her eyes. " Ha. I've been the bar wench for less than a month. Everyone seems to have a bucket of secrets attached to them," said Calponia, unable to keep the bitter note out of her tone.

"Eh Edgewise's a sanct'ary," said the Munch.

"You know most of us spend much of lives concealing our secrets, our histories, our true natures and feelings from everyone. You might not have been there long, but you've seen more of us than people who've known us for years. The tavern is where we can be our truest selves," said Ravelock. His smile was rueful as he leaned back into the wall. "The vampire is not his titles, Dove."

She stiffened at his words, but there was no judgement in Ravelock's expression. Her shoulders slumped. "It doesn't matter what or who he is," she said. "There's no future for someone like me." There it was, the truth she'd been dancing around. No matter what happened with Henderson, the bête noire would catch up to her eventually.

"Bullshite," grumbled the Munch.

"I concur with my astute colleague," said Ravelock, his expression shuttered. "Feeling sorry for yourself won't help anyone." His bland tone made her cheeks heat. She was feeling sorry for herself, the result of lingering fear and rejection.

Ravelock sighed. "Come here, Dove." He snagged her wrist when she came in range, pulling her down onto the bench between to the them. The Captain wrapped in her hug. She froze for a moment, afraid of the bête noire would hurt the already wounded man, but his warmth seeped into her and she realized how much she desperately craved the physical contact and comfort. A sharp sob rushed out of her as the Munch laid a careful hand between her shoulder blades. Comfort, like family.

"Don't focus on the future," said Ravelock. "Concentrate on surviving the now. We all take the future as it comes, Cal."

He was wrong. The future, and what it would bring were two things she couldn't ignore.She nodded, and drew a steadying breath. "You're fair wise for a pirate."

Ravelock chuckled. "Don't let my crew hear that. It'll ruin my hard won reputation."

"Yer rep'tation's already inna shitter," muttered the Munch.