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“I know someone who can help us. We can’t hurt her, though.”

A pale blue cottage with white shutters sits in front of the lighthouse. Zephyr opens the white gate with one hand and uses the stepping stones to carry me through an overgrown garden. They take the steps up to the bright yellow door and open it without knocking.

“Orla,” they call, pacing across the living room.

The space is cluttered but clean. The plain, sturdy furniture is decorated with teal and fuchsia throw pillows, stacks of books, and miniature houses displayed along an oak mantel.

A covered pot hangs over the hearth, the faint scent of cinnamon and cloves still lingering in the air from an earlier fire.

“Who’s there? I’ll send you straight to the eternal abyss if you don’t leave my cottage this instant.”

Zephyr spins around as lamplight splashes the walls.

One of the prettiest women I’ve ever seen stands in the doorway, clutching a cream shawl over a yellow dress. She’s petite, with soft, round curves and a smattering of freckles across the light brown skin of her cheeks and the bridge of her button nose.

“Oh, it’s just you, Tommy,” she says. A few dark brown spirals blow in the wind, coming loose from the two buns pinned on the top of her head. “You’ve brought a friend.”

“Yes. Orla, this is Cordelia.” They swing me in their arms, and I manage an embarrassed wave. “Cordelia, this is Orla. My sister.”

21

ZEPHYR

Iset Cordelia on her feet but keep an arm around her waist, bracing for another wave of bloodlust. She flicks her gaze around the lighthouse cottage, the trinkets and leather-bound books piquing her interest.

Her fingers flex and curl by her hips like she’s stopping herself from picking up random shiny items.

Nothing can dampen her curiosity. Not even the cursed venom that has her growling and gnashing her teeth.

“Sister? You never mentioned you had a sister,” she says, more reactive than usual.

Orla arches her eyebrows and does one long blink. “That’s really nice to hear.”

The two most important women in my life are both glaring at me.

Oh well. I’d rather keep my distance and keep my secrets than lose one of them.

I rub my jaw to work out the tension. “I’ll explain everything as soon as I can.”

“You’re all bloodied up and behaving like ravenous beasts. What’s going on?” she asks, then waves a hand at me. “Why aren’t you wearing any pants?”

I bend at the waist, letting my shirt tails fall forward. “That’s not important right now. We need your help.”

“How’d I guess the reason for your visit?” She grabs a basket off of the bar splitting the living room from the kitchen. “I’m in the middle of a good chapter in the romance novel I picked up at the library, and I’ve been looking forward to having my midnight snack all day. Can’t this wait until the morning?”

“Not unless you want us skulking around here in search of blood for all eternity.” I grin to flash her my teeth.

She purses her lips. “Vampires, Tommelise? Really?”

“Baobhan-sìth, actually,” I tell her. “But that elixir Mother used for the last vampirism outbreak should work, right?”

“I suppose.”

She steps into the kitchen and begins rummaging through the cabinets filled with the tonics and potions Mother always used to keep on hand for our village. Newer jars are lined up near the front. She has to push through several layers to get to the ones labeled in Mother’s handwriting.

Blowing the dust off a brown glass bottle, she pops the cork and grimaces. “You’re in luck. There’s just enough for the both of you.”

“You’re the best.” I open a drawer and take out a spoon, my fingers throbbing with a need to scratch at something.