A thorough shower scrubs the stench and memory of Belanger from my skin, replacing it with lemon zing and determination. The stink of stale tobacco will haunt me for some time, but I’ll not let the bastard take my pride.

After drying with Flanagan’s fluffy white towels, I pull on the clothes he’s provided. Dark suede trousers like the Guardians wear and a loose, collarless button up. The smooth gray fabric of the shirt is soft to touch and a strong, close weave. It looks like expensive cotton, but it can’t be because it doesn’t make my skin itch. It must be that specialized material Flanagan mentioned.

I glance one last time in the mirror to check out the stranger before I leave the bathroom. It’s with a churning stomach and a troubled mind that I return to the bedroom.

Flanagan stands with his back to me, talking on a mobile phone. I’m ready to go another round with him about the manacles, but I’m stopped by the tattoo across the back of his right shoulder.

I hadn’t noticed that before, but then, the image isn’t painted in the usual black ink. The flare of curling fire around his shoulder joint and across his scapula has a silvery shimmer, as if someone branded him with Flame.

The image has an odd effect on me. The Flame in my spine burns hot in response to the sight.

I catch Flanagan saying the name Councilor Belanger and a tension in his voice before he finishes the phone call.

He places the phone inside a small metal cage, like a mini birdcage, then turns. His brow creases as he looks me over. “Are you well?”

I’m sure I look like I’ve seen a ghost in the en suite. Or a vampire—which I have. But I say, “Fine. What’s with that tattoo on your back?”

His eyes widen. “You can see it?”

“Of course I can see it. It’s massive. I’ve never seen ink like it.”

“It’s not ink. It’s the mark of Velnushka the Flame Goddess, and should be invisible.” He continues to examine my face. His eyes remain gentle. “You saw yourself in the mirror.”

I let out a breath. “Yeah. Bit of a shock, that.” I can’t meet his gaze.

“The changes came on during your Haze. You are still part human, Michael. And as long as you never drink Anlu’kyr blood again, you will stay that way.”

He means well, but his logic isn’t reassuring. One suck of a vamp’s neck away from becoming a monster is one suck too close. And he’s wrong. I’m not still human. If I’m honest, I felt different the moment I woke in that cage. I’m something else. I just don’t know what yet.