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She placed the bottom half on top. “Fate has been cast.”

She fanned out the cards, waving her hand over the cards, and continued, “Close your eyes and think on your troubles. The answer you seek is here in the cards. When you’re ready, tell me when to stop.”

Hugo closed his eyes. He thought of Sylvia and Sebastian. The restaurant. Alice. The pain he caused her. The sorrows she hid. Sleeping in the wine cellar. Drinking blood. Their embrace in bed. All of it played like still images in his mind over and over. He focused on Alice . . . on her leaning against the wall frame in his sweatshirt from earlier in the evening. Their time cuddling in bed. How he wished they could spend eternity together wrapped around each other.

“When,” Hugo said. He opened his eyes.

Madame Sophia drew out a card and flipped it over. It was an image of a man hanging upside down by a foot on a T-shaped wooden cross, one foot behind him and his arms behind his back.

“The hanged man,” Madame Sophia said. “Interesting.”

“Is it good or bad?”

“Well . . .” She paused. “It could be either. It’s about letting go, perhaps letting go of what troubles you. It could also be a decision you have to make . . . something you’re stuckon. Perhaps a sacrifice you need to make. Maybe something in your past. Maybe you have to let it go and accept it.”

“Well—” Hugo started. Hugo focused on the card, his eyes tracing every line and word. “There’s a lot in my past I need to let go of.”

“There you are. If you let go, you can move forward.”

Hugo raised the corner of his lip, giving a half smile. He bowed and nodded his head. “Thank you, but I should be going.”

“My pleasure. Thank you for your help.”

Hugo smiled at her, buried his hands in his pockets, and followed the maze out of the store. He stepped back into the misty rain. As he continued his familiar journey, the light from Madame Sophia’s store turned off. Hugo turned and paused. He thought about peeking back in, but continued toward the edge of the town square.

He stopped, listening to the cool breeze rustling through the leaves along the path which led to Wildgrove Park—his usual walking path. The path he took many times before to lose himself, to punish himself.

Her words echoed in his mind.Maybe you have to let it go and accept it.

He took a deep breath, filling his lungs with the damp, fresh air.

His eyes followed the cracked sidewalk as it wound its way through a quiet street of Newbury Grove and provided a path home.

Let it go.

Hugo’s eyes darted back and forth between the allure of his familiar Wildgrove Park trail and the one leading to Alice. He diverted his path and started for home.

He followed the winding sidewalk through the neighborhood. He passed the silent, folk Victorian homes. Each step bolder, quicker. He pulled his shoulders back. He removed his hands from the jacket pockets. He thought of Alice sleeping in their bed at home, waiting for him. If they were to get through this, they could get through it together. He swung his arms. His pace quickened. He was heading home.

His nose twitched. It stopped him in his tracks. The smell. The intoxicating allure of the sweet, sweet smell. It was close. It was moving. He was drawn to it.

A light spilled forth from a house’s front window. A shadow moved inside. His eyes dilated. His nose flared. His fangs drew out. His hands twitched. The shadow continued moving through the home. Even though he had his daily feeding, his new body craved more—something fresh, something warm.

He tried to continue. He tried to move forward. If he could run home, there was a bag waiting for him in the refrigerator. But something stopped him. Something was pulling him. Something wanted him to take a step toward the person inside. His greatest fear was coming true. He couldn’t control himself. He lifted his foot and stepped off the sidewalk and onto the grass.

A glow cut through the darkness, bathing Hugo in purple light.

“Hugo . . . Please don’t,” Alice’s voice called to him.

He spun around. She stood on the sidewalk with her hand sticking out of the sleeve of her tailcoat and wielding a purple flame of arcane energy.

“Please don’t make me do it,” Alice pleaded.

Hugo pulled his foot back. His lips quivered, and his eyebrows drew together. “I- I don’t know what came over me. I smelled them and I . . .” his voice trailed off.

“Hugo, please come with me,” Alice said as she doused the flame.

“I want to, but I’m scared.”