The door closed behind him.

  Lucen had just taken the life of a human he had grown far fonder of than he ever liked to admit, and he stepped out of that house carrying too much weight across his shoulders.

  “You did what you had to do,” Iriel said warmly.

  He was already waiting a few meters from the house, accompanied by two other vampires. They looked serious, faintly spattered with blood, but showed no signs of having fed.

  “Rosaline and Gerard have already taken care of what was left of the Gonzalezes and the Santovitos. Let them handle Mrs. Raquel.”

  Lucen looked at them and simply nodded. His throat was tight. He could not speak. He walked away from the door in silence, heading toward the truck sector. Iriel followed, as he always did. Like a shadow.

  “That house can hold six humans.”

  “…” Iriel remained silent.

  “The Gonzalezes’ fits three.”

  “Lucen.”

  “And the Santovitos’ can take four. Five, if we clear out the basement.”

  “Lucen!” The dhampir did not raise his voice, but there was steel in it now.

  “No, Iriel! I don’t have time for your sentimentality!” Lucen snapped, not slowing his stride.

  “You shouldn’t even be here today.” Iriel stepped in front of him, blocking his path. His warm amber eyes met Lucen’s burning orange ones.

  “I can’t leave this to Gerard or Rosaline!” Lucen shot back.

  Iriel ran a hand through his dark hair, steadying himself before speaking calmly. “I know how much you care about the humans in this sector living as well as they possibly can.” He stepped closer. “And I know killing Mrs. Raquel was the last thing you wanted to do.”

  As always, Iriel struck true. For a moment Lucen’s gaze fractured, as if fire itself could crystallize.

  “It wasn’t the last thing I wanted to do. I didn’t want to do it at all.” He took a deep breath. “But I didn’t have a choice. It was her or four, maybe five others.”

  “You’re looking pale.”

  “I AM pale, idiot.”

  Iriel ignored the deflection and pulled a small blood pack from his backpack. He always carried one, for when Lucen forgot to feed.

  “Here. We still need to assign the Strays.”

  Lucen rolled his eyes but sank his fangs into the pack without hesitation. He drank what he needed. When he finished, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and slipped the empty pack into his pocket.

  “Happy?”

  “Not without a decent beer.” Iriel turned and resumed walking.

  A while later, after crossing the truck sector, they reached the Information Hall, where other vampires were distributing clean clothes and shoes to the newly arrived Strays.

  This time, Lucen and Iriel were able to study them more closely. Most wore the same expression: tension coiled tight with fear.

  Lucen stepped forward and raised his voice.

  “Welcome to Aurelia.”

  There was no warmth in it.

  “My name is Lucen Vaedren. I oversee the sector you’ve been assigned to. As you can see, I’m almost always accompanied by my dhampir friend, Iriel Tayan. He once served my family. I released him from that servitude, but he insists on staying at my side. You have nothing to fear from him. He strongly prefers animal blood over human.”

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  “Really?” one of the humans cut in, thick with sarcasm. “A vampire trying to convince us not to fear a dhampir? We’re Strays. We know exactly who we should be afraid of. Dhampirs are the least of our worries.”

  “Fair observation,” Lucen replied evenly. “I only mentioned it for clarity. I was about to explain that neither I nor the other vampires you’ll see inside here are something you need to fear.”

  He let his gaze sweep across them.

  “The Hemophysical Shires were created precisely to protect you. Contrary to what you were likely told in the Stray camps, our society has no interest in hunting you. We prefer that you live here quietly.”

  “You expect us to believe you don’t consume our blood anymore?” a young woman asked, lifting a brow.

  “On the contrary,” Lucen answered calmly. “All we ask in exchange for peaceful living here are blood donations every two or three months.”

  “Yeah, Security Force already gave us that speech,” another young woman interrupted. “It sounds like a very fake kind of peace. We want the truth.”

  Lucen disguised a sigh.

  “There’s nothing fake about it. We provide food and housing. You’re free to cultivate land if you wish, or move to a different home if you’d rather live with other humans or choose to marry. We provide medicine and any medical attention you require. Your health is important to us.”

  Some Strays began murmuring among themselves about what might happen if they fell ill and were no longer considered healthy. Lucen pretended not to hear.

  “If there are no more questions, we can proceed to assign you to your new homes.”

  Weeks later, the former Strays were adapting better to life inside the Shire.

  During that time, Lucen had remained close to them. Especially to a young ex-Stray with a shaved head and an androgynous build named Sofia, who now lived at Mrs. Raquel’s former house.

  Whenever they crossed paths, they spoke at length. She had become something like his point of reference for that newly arrived group.

  One turn, while they were talking, Sofia pointed to the pendant on Lucen’s necklace.

  “You know that’s a solar symbol, right?”

  Lucen tilted his head, genuinely confused.

  “Solar? What does that mean?”

  “A symbol of the Sun.”

  “Ah. Right. The Strays’ god.”

  “It’s not just our god. It’s everyone’s.” She gently took the pendant between her fingers, examining it. “Where did you get it? And how did you manage not to get killed for wearing it?” she added with a soft laugh.

  “My mother gave it to me. And I suppose it never caused problems because it doesn’t really have anything to do with the Sun.”

  Sofia shook her head. “It does. I’m one hundred percent sure.” She looked at him carefully. “Was your mother human?”

  “Yes. Before I was born.”

  “So you’re pure?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then your mother is still alive. You should ask her where she got it.”

  “No. She’s not alive anymore.”

  Sofia’s expression softened. “I’m sorry.” She fell quiet for a moment. “Then I guess we’ll never know.”

  When the workday at the Shire ended, Lucen was back in the city, sitting at his apartment with Iriel. He sat on the couch, a glass of red whisky in one hand, studying the pendant in the other.

  “Iriel.”

  “Hm?” The dhampir did not look up from the papers he was reviewing.

  “Have you ever noticed how similar our pendants are?”

  Iriel glanced at him. “Mine is Antü, according to my father. Yours is probably decorative.”

  “And what is Antü?”

  Iriel paused, thinking. “I’m not sure. I think it’s a word from the old Tayan language. From long before we were enslaved.”

  “Sofia told me mine is a Sun symbol.”

  “Sofia. The Stray?” Iriel raised a brow.

  “Sofia. The human who used to live as a Stray, yes.” Lucen clarified.

  Iriel let out a short breath of laughter. “Lucen… Do you really think beliefs are that easy to forget? She probably sees her Stray god everywhere.” He returned to his paperwork. “Everything must look like a Sun symbol to her.”

  “Your parents gave you that necklace.”

  “Yes. And?”

  “Aren’t the Tayans one of the oldest dhampir clans?”

  Iriel looked up, irritation flashing. “Get to the point, bro.”

  Lucen stood and moved to sit across from him, leaving his whisky forgotten on the couch.

  “You know I never bought that bullshit story that The Enforcement Corps fed us about my mom being killed by Stray humans. And that they took my dad too.”

  “I don’t know about your mom,” Iriel said slowly. “But Strays kidnapping your dad? That was obviously a lie. Security Forces don’t lift a finger for impure vampires like him.”

  “What if humans didn’t kill my mom?” Lucen asked, raising his brows. “What if a vampire did? Because she believed in the Sun?”

  Iriel went quiet.

  “Sometimes,” he said at last, voice low, “there are things it’s better not to know.” He sighed. “And if that madness is true, then we should get rid of those necklaces.”

  “Are you out of your mind?!”

  “No. You are.” Iriel shot back. “If even part of what you’re suggesting is real, the Nocturnal Council itself could be involved.”

  His gaze flickered briefly toward Lucen’s pack of cigarettes on the table. He had quit long ago. He would not relapse for this.

  “I understand wanting the truth,” he continued. “But digging for it could cost us our lives.”

  Silence.

  Lucen was the one who finally reached for the cigarettes. He lit one and watched the reddish smoke curl through the air.

  “I cared a lot about Mrs. Raquel.”

  “I know. She was kind.”

  “You know what else she was? Intelligent. Too intelligent.”

  Iriel gave in and took one of Lucen’s cigarettes. This conversation would not be short.

  “Why do you say that?” he asked, exhaling red smoke.

  “Because she was. She never wanted to marry. Never wanted children. You know why?”

  Iriel waited.

  “Because she didn’t want children forced to live like she did.” Lucen leaned back in his chair. “We’re cattle, she once told me. And she’s right. That whole speech I give whenever new humans arrive? It’s a lie.” He exhaled smoke sharply, anger aimed perhaps at himself. “I know it’s my job. I know I should be grateful for it. But every time I repeat that garbage or pretend that every human in there doesn’t have a price tag…” He rolled his eyes, exhausted. “Sometimes I want to claw my own eyes out.”

  “It’s better they believe the lie. Keeping them frightened there would be chaos.”

  “They shouldn’t be in there at all.”

  “You’d rather let predators like Kaerath hunt them?”

  “What’s the difference if anyone with enough money can buy them and do whatever they want? And we have idiots like Dharla trading them for favors!” He began pacing the room, as he always did when fury took him. “That could have been my life. Do you understand? If my parents hadn’t been turned… I would’ve grown up there. Like cattle.”

  “But you didn’t.” Iriel crossed his arms.

  “No. I ended up on this side.” Lucen stopped and dropped heavily onto the couch. “The one managing the cattle. And it makes me feel like shit.”

  Iriel stayed quiet again, then crushed his cigarette into the ashtray.

  “Do you really believe your mother worshiped the Sun?”

  Lucen lifted his gaze and nodded slowly. “I think she was an unhappy vampire. Because she missed her humanity.”

  They sat in silence for a long while.

  Finally, Iriel ran his fingers through his hair again.

  “Do you want to investigate?”

  Lucen nodded.

  Iriel sighed. “When my father gave me this necklace, before they separated me from him and my mother to give me to your family, he told me that if I ever needed to run… I should go to the Edge. To the Strays.” He hesitated. “I have an uncle who lives among them.”

  The silence that followed was suffocating.

  “You have an uncle at the Edge?” Lucen asked incredulously. “A dhampir living among Stray humans?”

  “Yes. I don’t know much. Only that his name is Catriel.”

  “Why have you never told me?”

  “I never thought it mattered. Your parents raised me like a second son. And when you inherited me, you freed me.” He shrugged.

  Lucen took a moment to absorb everything.

  “Do you think he’d receive us?”

  “There’s only one way to find out.”