“Wait,” he says. “You’re unarmed.”

He pulls me into a little alcove just off the side of the front entrance to the castle. From there, he opens the door to a small triangular room that’s lined wall-to-wall with weapons: knives, battle axes, and swords. I look from Derith to a handsome dagger hanging on the wall in front of me.

“May I?” I ask.

He nods, and I take the lovely curved blade in my hands carefully, minding the sharp edge.

“It’s stunning,” I tell him. “I’ve never seen a blade hold an edge this well with this sharp of a bend in its curvature.”

“My father was a very skilled and creative blacksmith.”

I look up, surprised. “A blacksmith?” I ask. “How did he manage to end up in a castle, then?”

“I never said anything about the profession of my mother,” Derith answers with a chuckle. “She was…” He looks out over his shoulder at the grand room we just left. “She came from a different caliber of blood.”

“Understood,” I tell him.

Then he grows quiet as he hunts through a row of bows. He shoulders a sheath of arrows and grabs the dullest looking bow on the shelf. The others are shinier, and this one is well-worn. It must be his go-to.

“Anything else you need?” he asks.

“A stake,” I reply, firmly.

He gives me a long look. “For me or for him?”

“For him… Unless you give me a reason.”

He chuckles. “I shall endeavor not to do so.” Then he opens a small chest, takes out a sharpened wooden stake, and hands it to me. I tuck it into the inside pocket of my coat.

“Ready to kill the horrid beasts of the forest—” he starts.

“Are you counting yourself among those horrid beasts?” I interrupt, cocking an eyebrow up at him. “You are a monster, after all.”

There’s a strange look in his eye, and, for the briefest of seconds, his handsome smile falters. It’s back a second later, though, and his voice is utterly unaffected when he says, “Touché.”

I feel a slight wash of guilt after that.

I almost apologize. Almost.

Instead, I run my hand along the dagger’s blade and turn around, walking briskly out of the room.

“Let’s go,” I say, and he follows, hot on my heels. I wish he’d back up a few feet. I feel his coldness on my skin and shiver in spite of myself. It’s then that I have to remind myself that I’m a hunter and I’m here to hunt. Nothing more.

We exit the castle, walking deep into the woods in stony silence. Derith bristles a little beside me, keeping my pace, but he says nothing. After a few more minutes of walking in tense quiet, I resign myself to an apology.

“I’m sorry I called you a monster,” I say quietly, but I know he can hear me, owing to his vampiric senses. His breathing, which he seemingly only does out of habit, changes when he’s listening. I don’t say anything else right away, but neither does he. He just allows my words to hang there. But, then again, so do I.

“I shouldn’t have said it,” I go on. “I just… I have a thing about vampires, and—”

“You don’t need to explain yourself to me, Joanna.”

“Jo.”

“Jo.”

I nod. “But—”

“I know the nature of my kind, and beyond that, I know my brother. You’ve earned whatever prejudices you harbor against him and against my kind, and I never assumed that our helping each other would change those prejudices. Though, a vampire can hope.”