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Noah’s eyes lit up. “It’s from your world?”

Pan nodded. He took the bowl out of Noah’s hands and grabbed a spoon out of the drawer. “Come on.”

He led the way to the bar but stopped in the doorway as if unable to take another step. The pile of sheet wrapped bodies was so neat, and the lighting was so dim, that at first glance it almost looked like rolls of blankets.

Almost.

How many were family and how many were staff?

Were they vampire, human, werewolf or something else?

Noah put his hand on Pan’s lower back. “There are twenty-seven. They are being collected tomorrow. The human authorities said they will photograph and document them before they are cremated. My grandmother and her friend helped the vampires write their details in English, as no human can read Tarikian.”

“That was very kind of her.” He forced the words out, not sure what else to say.

“It needed to be done.”

But plenty wouldn’t have done it. They’d have run away, especially given the way vampires looked now. He needed to find a way to thank Linda and her friend, unless Feryn had already done it. Perhaps offering them a safe place to stay was part of the deal.

Laughter broke through his thoughts. Still standing in the doorway, he took a spoonful of the stew, fortifying himself to step into the bar.

“Silas, you have returned. And returned the dragon to me.” Feryn put his hand over his heart as if the dragons were his own. “I hear you have also appeased the centaurs.”

Pan inclined his head. “As much as anyone can.”

One of the other vampires gave a soft laugh. All of them wore their hair loose and kept their faces tilted down and away from the light. Linda was behind the bar, and another woman with short white hair was sitting next to the vampires as if they were old friends.

He should pull up a stool at the bar and eat his stew with them, but he was too tired for conversation and stories, and he didn’t want to hear about the lives of the dead. Which was a callous thought, as the dead only lived in memories. But he had dealt with enough pain and suffering today.

Tomorrow, he’d ask about them.

Tomorrow, there were living Tarikians who needed help. And the only way he could help was by asking humans for favors.

“Feryn said we should all thank Pan for the return of the dragon,” Linda said, her gaze a little too sharp.

“The centaurs also praised him for the vet’s aid.” It wasn’t a lie, and they had. But he hadn’t felt a fucking thing. It was only with Noah that he tasted magic. He turned to Feryn and spoke in Tarikian, “It has been a long and difficult day, and while I ache for your loss, I need stillness.”

He would not beg for a bed, but he hoped one might be offered.

“And I need the coat I asked you to mind. The witch collects magical objects, and it may be of use.”

“Of course.” Feryn stood and spoke in English. “I will return once I have shown Silas his room.”

Pan glanced at Noah, needing him to follow but not wanting to ask. He was so used to people obeying his every inclination that thinking about asking grated.

Noah picked a glass of the bar and drained it.

Pan didn’t miss the shake of Linda’s head. It wasn’t that she didn’t like him…no it was worse, she didn’t trust him. And since she loved Noah, she viewed him as a hazard. He needed to tell her how important Noah was to him and magic.

But he needed all of his energy to eat the stew, take off his boots and fall into bed.

Another problem for tomorrow.

Tomorrow already had far too many problems with no easy solutions.

“Any news on the Strega?” Pan asked in Tarikian, hoping he didn’t sound too desperate.

“None, nor the knight.” Feryn said as he walked toward the palace door. “You will need to visit the temporary housing for what they are calling mythological beings. You will need to?—”