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Fey shrugged, hoping he didn’t register the rise in her pulse. Hoping he couldn’t hear the deafening beat of her heart. “You said Phillip was a ghost, too—just because your contacts can’t find anything on me doesn’t mean any?—”

“No,” Alastair interrupted. “No, they couldn’t find any dirt on him, but you know what they did find? A job. A residence. A fucking family. But you?” He gestured to her and laughed, a dark cruel laugh without a hint of humor. “You’re an actual fucking ghost. You’re a nobody. All of you are.” He looked around at them, face twisted in anger. “I didn’t show up here because you didn’t answer the phone after we fucked, Witchling. I showed up here because you used me to get information, and you didn’t even bother to give me your real fucking name.”

“Oh shit, you did fuck him,” Willow whispered.

Lilith took a step closer, and Alastair spun toward her, eyes fiery and fangs bared. “Try it, Witch, and see where it gets you.”

Lilith took another step, a savage smile spreading across her face. “Gladly, leech.”

“Enough!” shouted Fey. She pointed at Lilith. “You, back the fuck down right now, and you.” She moved her arm to point at Alastair. “I don’t owe you shit. But for the record, my name is Fey. You said you could smell lies, right? That is my name and has always been my name. Tell me if I’m fucking lying.”

Alastair calmed slightly, but only enough to seemingly assess what was truly happening. Knowing Lilith and Willow, they likely jumped him the moment he’d gotten into the building, and in the rush of the attack, Alastair hadn’t had a chance to evaluate his situation. He looked around at them, then, really looked at them all one by one. Lilith, rage, and violence contorting her face. Willow, her knife now at her side but its blade smeared with his blood. Joy, who stood among the wreckage of the lobby, was dangerously quiet. Three of them were in their fighting leathers. And all four of them had failed to activate the spell that hid their Blade’s marks from view. He took it all in, as he looked at them.

And, finally, Alastair’s eyes came to rest on Fey.

“What are you?” he asked, his voice low.

“Exactly what you said,” Fey answered. She held her blades at her side, letting him see her—all of her. The oversized T-shirt didn’t cover her arms, didn’t cover the sigils and blade branded there. “I’m a ghost.”

Alastair swallowed, then glanced between them all again and asked softly. “Your… sisters?”

Willow growled, baring her teeth at him as he turned his gaze on her, but Fey gave a small nod.

“Yes. My sisters.”

She watched him put it together. She saw the moment it clicked into place, and he saw her, really saw her, for who she was.

“I wasn’t lying, you know,” Fey told him with a sheepish smile, under the heavy weight of his gaze. “I did lose my phone. I had no idea you were trying to reach me.”

He nodded, clearly not listening. Then he ran his hands through his hair and let out a long exhale of breath. He looked at the room around them, at the damage they’d caused with their fight.

“Fuck,” he said. “Fuck.”

Yeah, that pretty much summed it up, Fey thought.

Alastair turned to Lilith. “I shouldn’t have had you followed,” he admitted begrudgingly.

“No, you fucking shouldn’t have,” she snapped back.

“I didn’t…” He stopped. “I didn’t know that you were… didn’t know you all were—” He tipped his head back. “Fuck,” he said, again.

“Yeah,” agreed Fey.

Then, suddenly, he laughed, eyes still closed. “I thought you were a myth, you know that? The Blades? I never believed you were real.”

Willow made a noise from behind him.

“We should kill him,” she said, decidedly.

“Agreed,” said Lilith at the same time Joy snapped, “Willow!”

“What?” Willow asked her, sounding indignant. “Fey, he fucking stalked you. I don’t care what your reasoning is—” She gestured with her blade at Alastair. “That’s fucking creepy, dude. So, she slept with you, big fucking deal, that doesn’t give you the right to track her down like she’s your lost pet or something. And now this site is compromised, and he knows who we are. A Vampire knows who we are. He’s a liability, and I think we should kill him.”

“She’s right,” said Alastair, glancing back at her. “About being creepy, not about needing to kill me. What the fuck is wrong with you, you crazy Witch?”

Willow bared her teeth at him again. “I’m not crazy, I’m practical.”

“And she’s right that I’ve compromised this site,” Alastair continued. “But I’m not a liability. I won’t tell anyone who you are. What you are.”