Kat paled. “And will they do that? I don’t know what we’ll do if a race full of Nightwalkers who can simply kill us by touch were to fight against us.”

“Oh no, I don’t think the Doyen wants that either. If it were up to him we’d just remain neutral.”

“Apep won’t allow that. He will demand obedience,” Jackson said.

“And that’s why I’m here,” Viève said.

“Well, we are glad you are,” Jackson said. “Come. Meet everyone else.”

She followed him. She met the humans Max, a longtime Bodywalker associate; Angelina, Marissa’s sister; and Leo, a tough-looking man, the sort any human would be a fool to mess with. His bride, Faith, was much more open and easygoing. She laughed easily and her eyes shone with warmth and welcome. Then she met Ram and Docia, a blond god of a man and a petite but curvy brunette, who was Jackson’s sister.

It was a lot to keep track of, but Viève prided herself on doing it well. If she was going to be thrust into this position, she was going to do the best she possibly could.

Jackson then used Max to introduce her to the First Faction of Nightwalkers that were about. She couldn’t see any of them, but Max had gotten used to describing the two sides to one another so he gave brief descriptions. There was Jacob and Bella. A Demon and a Druid respectively, the male tall and tanned and dark-haired and the female short and sassy with long black hair. There was Sagan, the Shadowdweller male who apparently couldn’t tolerate even the smallest amount of light, so he spent his time in his rooms with his wife, Valera, a natural born Witch. Apparently she could do magic, as long as it was in self-defense or with good intentions; otherwise it would stain and corrupt her. Sagan was dark-skinned, tall, and black haired. Valera was a redhead of average height and build for a woman.

Then she was introduced to Jasmine, the black-haired slender Vampire, and her mate, Adam, who was a Demon. Like his brethren he too was tall and well-built and black-haired.

Then she met Windsong, a Mistral, whose song could entrance anything that heard it. She was a small-boned woman who could turn into a bird on command, her soft brown hair becoming soft brown feathers.

Last she was introduced to Jinaeri, a slender brunette Lycanthrope who could apparently turn into a lemur at any given moment. The idea tickled Viève. The idea of anyone being able to change at will to an animal—how much fun that must be! So liberating. She had seen it with the Phoenixes and had marveled at it then. To think there were those who could become any animal on the planet. Although, as she understood it, each Lycanthrope could change into only one of three forms. Their human selves, a specific animal, and a human-sized cross between human and animal. So basically Jinaeri’s third form was that of an ape-woman type of appearance.

She was exhausted by the time she met Jinaeri. Jackson could see her fatigue so he steered her toward the stairs.

“Let’s get you back to Kamen,” he said. “It seems you are comfortable with him.”

She flushed a little. What did that mean exactly? Had she done something to give away the fact that she was attracted to Kamen? If so she couldn’t remember what it was. Did that matter to them? She didn’t see why it should, but she wasn’t sure. She didn’t want to do something wrong after only being there for less than an hour. Her role here was very important. The Doyen believed there was a threat because Apep himself had already approached him, so she did not require proof as the Phoenixes did. She was there to see everyone joined for the good of her own species. The Doyen had not said as much, but she felt it was true.

That and she felt surprisingly welcome here in just this short amount of time and she didn’t want to do anything to ruin that. It was a good feeling, a feeling she had never really known before. But Jackson had explained to her the difference between Politic and Templar Bodywalkers, and how the Templars had been the enemies of the Politic for so long. Would they frown upon her for liking their once-enemy, a Templar Bodywalker? She wondered what crimes they thought him guilty of in specific. Was he even guilty of any crimes at all? Or was he like her? Guilty of just being different?

But there were so many different people here, all being accepted, that she found that hard to believe. They were even accepting her…so far. They hadn’t really gotten to know her yet, and she hadn’t gotten into any trouble yet. But she would work very hard at not upsetting anyone. Maybe here she would succeed when before she had failed.

She followed Jackson up two flights of stairs and into the depths of a hallway. The house was huge and it must have been quite an undertaking to have it built out there in the middle of nowhere. Jackson opened a door and Viève found herself standing in the room she had been in with Kamen earlier. She could tell by the ashen circle on the floor and the bits of herbs that had been strewn about. There, on the chair, was where he had kissed her.

She blushed at the thought and covered her cheeks self-consciously and out of habit to hide it. But then she remembered she wasn’t with Wraiths and these people wouldn’t care if she blushed like a human or not. She dropped her hands and swallowed bravely. She felt exposed, but refused to cover up again.

Jackson didn’t even seem to notice, a fact that relieved her. Kamen was in the room, seated at a desk in the far corner. He had a worn journal in his hands and was alternately thumbing through it and through some old tomes he had opened up before him. He didn’t even glance their way, instead staying focused on his task.

“I feel Viève is more comfortable in your company,” Jackson announced to him, making Viève blush again. “So I will leave her with you for now. Viève, should you need anything just ask any person in this house. We are all here for the same purpose and we will all help whenever and however we can. If that means making you more comfortable, then that is what we will do.”

“Thank you,” she said politely.

Jackson nodded to her, then looked at Kamen with a little frown on his lips. “Your plan…will it succeed?”

“There is no knowing that until it is done,” Kamen said shortly. “But if you mean can I execute the spell, then yes, I can. There are not many who could. Though I may need a little help from Tameri.”

“I’m sure she’d be happy to help.” Jackson would feel far better about whatever course of action Kamen was thinking of taking if Tameri, the Bodywalker half of his sister Docia, was involved. At least he could be assured of her honesty and her trustworthiness. He could be assured of her motives. With Kamen, even after almost a year he still was not certain. One year on their side did not make up for centuries on the opposing side. Although, if he were to be fair, most of those centuries had been spent in the Ether waiting to be reborn. Being in a position of high import, Kamen had often been a target and his lifespan on earth had been relatively short each time. Jackson’s own Bodywalker Menes had been personally responsible for taking Kamen out on two separate occasions.