An audible gasp ripped through the bar and then entities began calling out questions all at once.

“Please, please, this is difficult enough to convey without a lack of order. I first wanted to address the rumors of the deaths of our most cherished employees and friends before launching into even worse matters at hand… if one can even compare. All of your questions will be answered. This is why Sir Rodney has sent his captain of the Fae guard-Captain McIntyre-to go over everything in greater detail. But as I said, our Phoenixes were the first to be so horribly-”

“Well, is it contagious?” a huge Dragon rider shouted out from the back. “If so, what the hell is wrong with you, man, bringing us all in here to catch the rot?”

Jeers met Ethan and he held up his hands and shouted above the din to be heard. “No, it’s not contagious in that way,” Ethan said quickly as the crowd erupted again into disgruntled murmurs.

Captain McIntyre stepped forward, causing a respectful hush to momentarily befall the crowd. “What is of foremost concern now is it seems the humans can see through our Fae glamour… It’s not working… nor are any of the other races’ illusion castings able to protect them from the naked human eye, for some reason. At least that is what is happening in New Orleans; we’re not sure if it extends beyond this region.”

“What?” a Fae archer called out. “Man, have you gone daft? Do you know what ye are saying?”

“We’ll all have to hide, go deep into the woodlands as though in exile,” another shouted, pointing at Ethan and ignoring the captain. “This is dark magick afoot, if ever I’ve seen such! You’ve brought this on our heads from the Vampires, Ethan!”

Hunter looked at Sasha. “Are you going to help the man out, or what?”

She nodded, but her voice wouldn’t work on demand. She stared up at Hunter, mesmerized by his mouth as a shudder of violent need passed through her womb. A quiet gasp is all that came out instead of protest, but the recognizable sound drew Hunter closer. Common sense clicked in as she saw Shogun working his way through the crowd to get to her.

“Don’t kiss me-not here. Please, I’m begging you,” she said in a tense whisper, and then propelled herself forward toward the stage.

“My human squad witnessed what Ethan and Captain McIntyre told you-what they say is true,” Sasha shouted and Ethan hurriedly dropped the mic down to her so she could be heard. The captain stretched out his hand to help her up, but in one fluid move Sasha jumped up, caught the microphone, and landed on the stage without assistance. She saw Shogun stop advancing. Hunter closed his eyes in a slow blink. She had to get them all to understand quickly and then get out. “This isn’t Ethan’s doing! And don’t shoot the messenger,” she said, motioning toward Captain McIntyre. “The same forces that tried to separate us before are no doubt trying to be sure that we do not stand united now!”

“Those are pretty serious charges,” a Brownie called out nervously. “How do we know who’s behind anything? It could be a new virus or Fae sickness.”

“There’s never been a sickness that steals glamour,” Ethan yelled without the aid of the mic. “When in our history have innocent Phoenixes ever burned and not come back? This is foul play, I tell you. Open your eyes!”

“Ethan is right,” Sasha said, each breath labored. “Something is wrong. It’s not normal that Fae glamour is permeable to human awareness. It’s not normal that Phoenixes can’t transition properly, or that wolves are having primal transformation spikes before the full moon even rises. What’s more important is we all know that after the trial, the Vampire Cartel, in collusion with a treasonous Fae, Dugan, and double-dealing area Werewolves, had an axe to grind. We can’t prove they are the source, and to say so is libel and slander, which I’m sure they’d seek redress for-so I’m not saying they did anything without proof. But we’ve got two dead girls from an establishment that turned state’s evidence against them. Where I come from, murder is a capital offense worth investigating.”

Fearful murmurs broke out, creating a low din. Sasha closed her eyes and wiped the sweat from her brow.

“I hate to break it to everyone, especially before Sir Rodney’s fabulous gala,” Captain McIntyre said, standing firm and speaking in a loud, clear voice, “but it is advisable to watch your backs and to stay out of human sight. We don’t want to cause a panic amongst the locals or human law enforcement.”

“When did Sir Rodney learn about this?” an angry patron yelled out. “We need to find out if his Sidhe is still a safe haven, or maybe we should just go home this year. I didn’t come all the way from the Bonnie Isles to have me last days end in a swamp in New Orleans! We could attend the fêtes in Scotland, Wales, Ireland, for that matter… even London-but we came at the invitation of the Seelie Court king.”

A rousing aye rang out, and Sasha knew that she and Ethan were losing ground fast. The only thing to do at this point was appeal to the sense of righteous indignation that all worthy Fae owned when they thought they were being run off.

“When Sir Rodney learned of this is of no import! He is our sovereign and some things are not meant for public consumption! I have convened this meeting on the orders of our king, and his Sidhe is refuge,” Captain McIntyre shouted above the din, but was promptly ignored.

Pandemonium had replaced order and there was only one thing to do-appeal to the primal instinct within the crowd.

“So, that’s it?” Sasha shouted into the mic. Dead silence greeted her. “You’re going to fold your tents and allow a group of dark forces terrorists to just run you off your land? You’re going to allow them to best your magick, make you turn away from your Seelie king, put your tail between your legs, and hide? I don’t know what this is, but I’m not running from it! I’m staying until we hunt the bastards down-staying until the last wolf stands!”

She looked at the strongest group in the room, the Order of the Dragon, feeling their indignation palpably rising as the spiked-armored bikers glanced at one another with angry glares, snorting fire. Fae archers lifted their chins, seeming resolute now that their honor had been called into question. Pixies and Faeries began emitting dark plumes of furious black dust, while the Brownies and Gnomes were finger-sparking mad. Even the Phantoms came out of the walls, hurling glasses in peak poltergeist form, clearly ready for war. This is what was needed-unity. Division would cripple them.

Fired up, Sasha walked across the stage and then looked at the Wolf Clan factions in the room. Perspiration rolled down her back, down her cleavage, her entire body was soaked with an adrenaline rush. She was so close to a wolf transition that her voice bottomed out on a low female alto and the hand that gripped the mic shook as her nails lengthened.

“Gentlemen, ladies… standing your ground and defending your territory, as well as your right to exist in pure freedom, may not be the way of the Fae, but turning tail and running is not the way of the wolf!” She released the howl that had been pent up inside her, and simultaneously all the wolves in the room joined in, sending chills down her spine.

“There is an allied team finding out who did this, and the moment we are sure, we hunt!” she shouted.

A loud aye went up as a singular roar. Fire blasts and released arrows hit the ceiling. Feet stomped the floor in a unified thud.

“As one!” a lead Fae archer yelled out.

“As one!” the leader of the Order of the Dragon confirmed.

A miasma of colored Faerie lights zinged around the room as Gnomes and Brownies chanted, “As one, as one, as one!”

But the voice that cut through the din stole her focus. It was a deep baritone from the middle of the crowd that made her insides tremble.