I know this is a mistake. I know it is, the second Safiya pulls up at a toy store, of all places. I don't know about you, but if I were looking for an entire clan of vampires (which, oh, right, I am), a children's store wouldn't even be on my radar.

It crosses my mind that this is probably the point.

I can't believe I'm doing this.

Safiya parks her car a good block away, as not to look conspicuous, I suppose. Looking conspicuous has never been one of my concerns when walking into a bright yellow toy store, but, you know, there's a first time for everything.

Despite the high heels, she walks with the speed of a lioness (Safiya likes to do everything like a lioness), and Midge and I have to jog to keep up with her. I can tell she hates to do this. There's this scowl on her face that's been there ever since we left Midge's place.

But she offered her help, so the only person she can be mad at is herself. That probably just makes her more mad, if I know Safi at all.

We reach the store. There's a steady flow of children and their parents going in and out, and the closer I get, the more convinced I am that yes, this is a mistake. Everyone in there is walking around, shopping and laughing like you usually do in a toy store. If it were a vampire-owned toy store I'd expect them to be selling prosthetic fangs and long, dark cloaks and cleaning supplies. Okay, fine. Vampires wouldn't own a toy store. This is why this has to be a mistake.

Safiya yanks the door open, but I tug on her arm. "Safi," I say. "Seriously?"

She narrows her eyes at me. Her winged eyeliner is so sharp I'm almost afraid it's going to cut me. "It's a front, Grey. It's a very convincing one, but it's just a front. If you're scared and you wanna turn around and piss your pants like a little p—"

"Okay, okay!" Midge interrupts from behind us, holding a cautious hand out towards Safiya, who eyes it like she wants to bite it off. "We're not scared. We trust you, Safiya. Right, Grey?"

I'm not planning to agree, but then Midge elbows me and I squeak, "Yes! Of course! Ahem."

Safiya shoots me one more dagger glare before entering the store, Midge and I scrambling after her like terrified ducklings. Midge lied and I'm pretty sure she knows it. We are scared. One Safiya is scary enough, but now I'm imagining a whole throng of Safiyas, and I actually want to throw up in my mouth.

We cut right down the middle of the place, through the aisles that showcase just about everything from pixie Barbie dolls to seemingly innocent plush toys to practice wands for preschool-age witches. Kids are everywhere, running and shouting and tugging their parents this way and that. I watch it all with a grimace. They're so small and grubby. I was one of those once?

Safiya stops us at the back of the store, outside of a huge double door labeled PERSONNEL ONLY. Midge looks at me, and I look at Midge, and then we both look at Safiya. I prompt, "Well?"

"Let me do all the talking," she mutters, and when Midge and I don't say anything, she grabs me by the collar and shakes me until it kinda looks like she has two and a half heads. "Hear me, half-breed? Don't let me hear anything come out of that four-fanged mouth, or they'll kill us all."

I nod, the world still spinning, and she lets me go. Midge sees my balance falter and catches me. "That goes for you, too, Midget," Safiya reminds her, then shoulders her way through the door, beckoning for us to follow her.

I'm still a little dizzy, but manage to register what I've just walked into, which looks like a giant warehouse. The ceilings are lofty, kept up by long wooden beams, the floors and walls seemingly made of pure concrete. There's no windows, so it's pretty dark, and I hear Midge take in an unsettled breath beside me. I understand. It's very eerie, considering it's behind a kids' store. Maybe it's not a kids' store at all. Maybe all the "toys" are actually plotting to kill us. At this point, I wouldn't even be surprised.

Safiya whispers, "Like I said, don't say anything—"

Then something grabs my arm and jerks me to the side, and I let out a surprised yelp. There's a lot of rustling and hissing and then a light, blinding white, flicks on, shining right into my face.

I grimace, squinting harshly. A few vampires have grabbed me by the arms, and they've got Midge and Safiya, too. Midge is on the verge of tears. Safiya just looks pissed off.

Safiya always looks pissed off, actually. I think we've covered that.

One of the clan members seems to materialize from the shadows the light creates, a clean-cut guy who probably thinks it's hipster to wear a sweater in June. His eyes rake each one of us in turn; all three of us have stopped squirming by now. "Let's see. We've got the lovely Safiya Noor—about time you paid a visit—a little witch, and...ah, who's this fellow? He's got beautiful teeth."

I frown at him. "Thanks. Truly."

Safiya makes an annoyed noise in her throat. "Alright, that's enough, Cyril. I just came to talk."

"With friends?"

Safiya glances at us, narrows her eyes, then meets Cyril's gaze again. "They're not my friends. We're just...colleagues. So if I were you, I'd let us go."

Now Midge looks like she is crying, and I roll my eyes, because yeah, that's certainly helping our case. It dawns on me that the shadows behind Cyril are...moving, and when I squint just enough, they define themselves into the silhouettes of people. There's a lot of them. A lot more than I thought.

By hell, we're screwed.

Cyril's dark eyes have been studying us this whole time. Finally, he shrugs, and waves his goons off. They let us go, and Midge lets out the longest sigh of relief I've ever heard. Safiya casts her a withering look, but she doesn't seem to notice.

"I think you know how this works, don't you, Ms. Noor?" Cyril asks, switching the giant flashlight off as the ceiling lights come on, illuminating the whole place in soft amber light. And just as I thought, there's a sea of vampires there, all moving and twitching, waiting to watch how their leader's going to deal with us. The more time I spend here, the more I hate it. "If you're looking for info, you're going to have to give something for it."

Safiya folds her arms. "Like I'm going to—"

"Whatever you need," Midge cuts in, and both Safiya and I stare at her. I'm ninety-percent sure she didn't just say that. Did she just say that? Oh my God, we're in deep shit. We're in deep, deep shit. Who thought this was a good idea? Who actually thought—

Cyril pauses, then lets out this laugh that sounds a tiny bit like a deranged chicken. All his clan members laugh with him, and everyone sounds like deranged chickens. I have to be dreaming right now. "The witch knows how to play the game, doesn't she?" he says. "Alright. I'll bite. What do you need to know?"

Midge glances toward Safiya, who shakes her head before stepping forward, tapping her foot impatiently. "I think you already know, but more than a few of your vampires have been causing trouble around here. A coffee shop one day, and a gas station, of all places, last night. You know the rules, Cyril. So what's going on?"

A frown forms on the vampire's face, and a for a second, I almost think he's confused. But how...he would know, wouldn't he? He would have to. "I have heard about the attacks," Cyril confirms, placing his hands in his pockets, "and I know they were North Ave members. But I'm afraid I can't tell you why they did it. Vampires go rogue sometimes, and there's no point in correcting them once they do."

Safiya's eyes are wide. "You're lying!" she hisses. "Someone must have asked you, someone must have—"

"No one hired them, Safiya," snaps Cyril, tilting his head a little. "I don't do petty jobs like that. Is that what you think of us? Your own former clan?"

My eyes zip to Safiya's, but she doesn't look at me. She just scrutinizes the floor, angrily nibbling at her nails.

"Oh," taunts Cyril, "was I not supposed to say that?"

"Screw you, Cyril," Safiya says through gritted teeth, her fangs having slid from their sheaths. "Screw you and your damn cult."

Cyril seems pleased at Safiya's reaction, and he steps forward, giving her a playful tap on her chin before moving on down the line, stopping right in front of Midge. She's got this intense frown on her face, but she's quivering. Something in me awakens, and it's weird, but I get this feeling that if he touches her, I'm going to rip his head off.

"On to what I need from you," Cyril says, and though he's talking to all of us, his frigid eyes are trained on Midge.

I take in a breath. Safiya told me not to say anything. But... "That's not fair," I cut in. "You told us hardly anything. Exchanges go both ways, so we don't owe you anything."

"Grey," Midge warns, shooting me a worried glance.

"You asked me your question," Cyril justifies. "I never guaranteed you were going to get the answer you wanted, but you asked it, and that was my gift to you. That is how an exchange works, son of Alvanor."

I shiver. "How—"

"Your dad and I go way back. Before you were even a thought in the man's head," Cyril answers, and then moves on, like that's totally enough of a reply as to how he knew who I was. I don't like this guy. Yeah. I definitely don't like this guy.

"You're a witch, right?" Cyril says to Midge. "You can do all that magic stuff?"

Midge nods curtly.

"Good," Cyril says with a grin. "See, I could use a favor from you. A lot of us aren't as lucky as Safiya here. She can afford to pay a witch to do a protection spell for her, to numb the effect of the sun on her. Yeah, we can't do that. But we don't wanna live in the dark forever, do we?"

Silence.

Cyril roars, "Do we?"

There's a chorus of shouts, and Cyril nods along with them, taking Midge's hand. I jolt, and it's all I can do not to rush over there and stake the guy. Midge doesn't have to do this. She doesn't have to do anything. We can get out of here another way. Right? "That's what I need from you, miss," Cyril tells her. "You do a protection spell for all of us here, we let you go free. How's that sound?"

"Midge," Safiya says, "a spell for this many vampires—it'll drain you—"

"It might not," Midge interrupts her, and then she juts her chin and says, "I'll do it. I said whatever you need and I meant it."

"Midge!" I protest, but she just shushes me.

Cyril tells her, "Take your time," and then steps back, watching her from the shadows.

I'm going to kill the guy. I swear. I will.

I reach out to stop Midge, but she swats my hand away, pulling the pencil that isn't really a pencil from her pocket. It elongates into a wand, birch bark weaved with silver and gold, and she holds it out, shutting her eyes. I want to stop her, but I know she's already convinced herself. Plus, she looks...almost peaceful as she begins to quietly chant, repeating the same Latin words over and over again.

I'm not sure it's doing anything, until I look up. In the rafters, a small dome has began to form, a circle of gold billowing out like the roof of a stadium. The vampires look up in amazement, and when I glance at Safiya, she, too, is gazing on in awe.

The dome broadens and broadens, shimmering, and Midge remains there, her wand held out, her lips moving. I almost think it's going to end well, until she starts shuddering.

At first it's a subtle twitch, but then it worsens. Cautiously, I say, "Midge?"

"Shut up, Grey!" she yells, her eyes opening. "I'm almost done. It's almost done."

As I watch, the vampires begin to mirror the dome above their heads, their skin turning a bright gold for a moment before subsiding. There's applause and a few shouts of encouragement as the spell courses through each one of them, lighting and dimming like flickering lightbulbs. Maybe if I weren't so concerned Midge was killing herself, I'd even say the process was almost enchanting.

Now Midge seems to be convulsing, her eyebrows furrowed.

"Midge!" I yell. "It's okay! You can stop!"

"Grey, no," she snaps, and then the spell hits the last vampire in the warehouse, Cyril.

He smiles and says to Midge, "You've done well."

The spell ends, and the glimmering dome evaporates in a shower of dripping gold. I watch, probably the most thankful I've ever been, until I hear a wand hit the floor.

I whirl. Midge is on the floor, unconscious, and Safiya's leaning over her, shaking her shoulders as she tries to wake her up.

No. No, she's fine. Of course she's fine.

By the time I get there, Safiya's resolved to full on slapping her. I grab Safi by the wrist, stopping her hand mid-air. "Safi, that's obviously not doing anything!"

"I told her," Safiya says with a fierce shake of her head. "I told her not to. We told her not to."

"Doesn't matter," I hiss, looking down at Midge. Her eyes are shut, her face glued in a frown. I sigh, then slip my arms under her and lift her up, cradling her against my chest. The idiot. If she dies on me, I'm going to kill her. "Let's just get her out of here, alright? This was a waste of time."

Safiya nods, and we turn to go.

I don't stop feeling Cyril's eyes on me, not even after the door's shut behind us.