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"Right. So, where are we off to today?" I ask as he grabs a cloak and drapes it over his shoulders.

"I have a contact. She's a graphologist—of sorts—and will be able to tell us about the letters. When they were written. How old they are. Possibly who wrote them."

"That reminds me," I say, pulling a piece of paper from my satchel. "Here is a writing sample from the butler. As far as we can tell, Dracula, Liam, and the butler, Leonard, were the only three men who came in contact with Mary in the months leading up to her death. But the author of the letters may not have seen her in person, so that might not be very helpful."

"Any new information is helpful," he says, taking the paper from me. "It all gives us information with which to narrow down our defense."

"And what is the defense going to be for Dracula?" I ask as we walk through the castle and out the front door, into a cold evening still damp from rain.

I shiver and pull my cloak more tightly around my shoulders when I realize we won't be taking a carriage but will be walking instead.

"Lily is taking Derek and Sebastian to the courthouse tonight, so we will be on foot. I hope that's okay?"

I nod. "I could use the exercise. Is it always so cold here though?" As I ask, flakes of snow form in the sky, landing on my skin and dissolving into tiny puddles. I can feel the cold in the back of my throat and I inhale a deep breath.

"Winter is nearly upon us,” Elijah says, as we walk briskly down the cobbled path to town, tall trees lining each side and reaching towards each other above us form a living tunnel through which we walk. "It's only going to get colder. Soon we will have the Midwinter Festival. You'll enjoy that. There's all manner of food, live music, dancing and huge bonfires as we welcome winter. It's traditionally a gift-giving time in our world as well."

"Sounds like Christmas," I say. "Without the dogma."

We make it into town, and despite the snow, booths are set up and there are many townsfolk shopping and going about their evening. "Is the town this busy during daylight hours as well?" I ask.

"There's no real distinction between night and day here, so we all keep whatever schedule suits us. Since most creatures don't have the same sleep needs as humans, the town is bustling at all times."

I pay attention to the people as we walk. There are all manner of beings; some with horns, some with skin like dyed leather, some with body parts that aren't human.

Elijah takes us through an alley and as we pass, someone throws out their bodily waste through the window, creating a trail of odor that has me gagging.

Elijah sighs, and with a flick of his hand, the wind picks up, carrying the scent in the opposite direction and clearing the air for us. "We have more efficient sanitation systems in place now—and that took a lifetime to get the council to vote in—but some creatures are entirely too stubborn for their own good and refuse to leave the medieval era behind where it belongs. Thus we are forced to endure their filth as they cling to the old ways."

"How unpleasant," I say, glancing back at the brown puddle left behind.

"Indeed."

I look at Elijah, wondering about him. "Can I ask you a question?"

He nods. "Of course."

"You're air, yes? That's the element that's part of your curse?"

His lips tighten together. "Yes."

"Well, I can see how Liam's fire makes him hot-headed. And Sebastian is stubborn as an old goat."

Elijah snorts at that.

"But what downside is there to air?"

He frowns, considering. "I have always been more in my head than my brothers. More lost in ideas. In thoughts. In books. But it was always balanced by my love of people. By my desire to bring new ideas to the world. After the curse, and then once I was turned, I found it hard to…" He stops walking and turns to face me. "I found it hard to connect. To care. Ideas have become their own end goal. Books are a world unto themselves. I struggle to find the passion I once had to help others. It has made me cold. Vacant, if you ask my brothers. Aloof."

"You seem very self-aware. That's a good step," I say, surprised by his honesty.

He nods his head. "We have had many years to become such. Even Liam, were you to gain his trust, would admit to his own shortcomings. We all know, but we struggle to do anything about it. We are stuck in this inertia, unable to move forward. It's maddening, particularly when our Druidic Order focused on spiritual and personal growth in order to be of service to all. Our curse has put us at direct odds with our oath. Our purpose. It has left us rudderless at sea. At the whims of our egos, rather than guided by our higher nature."

"Are there other Druids still around?" I ask.

His face darkens. "We are the last of our kind. Our Order was killed."

He turns sharply and continues walking, clearly uninterested in continuing the conversation.