Ethan powered down his computer, the screen’s glow fading to black, a quiet relief washing over him as the workday ended. The job was steady, even enjoyable, but today’s hours had dragged, his mind tangled in last night’s encounter with the S.P.A. group—Alex’s cryptic tests, Ash’s dream-hobbits, Nick’s predatory edge. He wiped down his keyboard and phone with a cloth, the faint scent of disinfectant lingering, a habit born of caution. His desk, tucked in a corner of the open-plan office, was a small island of order amidst the hum of fluorescent lights and the chatter of colleagues packing up. “Hey, Ethan, we’re going for drinks. Wanna join?” Hector called, leaning against a nearby cubicle, his tie loosened, a grin splitting his face. “Not tonight. Got plans.” Ethan slung his backpack over his shoulder, the weight familiar. Of course they’d pick tonight, when he was due back at the S.P.A. base. Hector snorted, his eyebrows shooting up. “You’re not spending the evening with those creepy uncles, are you?” “They’re not creepy,” Ethan said, his voice firm but tired, the argument an old one. He zipped his jacket, the fabric rustling softly. “Yeah, two old dudes hanging around a kid? Totally normal.” Hector’s tone was teasing, but his eyes held a glint of judgment. Ethan sighed, pausing at the office door, the glass cool under his palm. “Because my childhood was so normal otherwise? It wasn’t like that. They were friends with my grandpa and helped him keep an eye on me. Raising a kid alone is tough, especially when you’re old. They were his closest friends, so they stepped up to help. They never did anything wrong. Neither had kids, so I was like their kid too. Uncle John even called the school once and chewed out the principal because some jerk was bullying me.” His voice softened at the memory, John’s ghostly suit sharp in his mind, his stern voice crackling through the phone. Hector raised his hands, sheepish. “Sorry, dude. It’s just weird.” “Yeah, that’s my life,” Ethan said, a wry smile tugging at his lips. And it was getting weirder. “Gotta go. See you tomorrow.” He pushed through the door, the office’s buzz fading behind him. The bus ride home was a blur of city lights and diesel fumes, the seats’ worn fabric scratchy under him. He needed his car to get home after tonight’s meeting, since Alex’s sleek sedan was no longer his to borrow. Wiping down every surface of that car—steering wheel, door handle, gearshift, and other locations—had been a meticulous chore, his cloth erasing any trace of his touch. He’d never been fingerprinted, his grandpa’s lessons drilled deep: leave no record, no trail. The S.P.A. might know his name, but instinct kept him cautious. He’d skipped the glue tonight—its tacky residue didn’t last, and secrecy felt less urgent now. Still, the habit lingered, a shadow of his upbringing. His duplex greeted him with its clean brick facade and neatly trimmed shrubs, the streetlight casting long shadows across its modern lines. The windows were dark, the air quiet save for the distant hum of traffic. Inside, he grabbed his car keys from a hook, the metal cool, and headed out, the drive to the S.P.A. base a short one through urban streets lined with neon signs and late-night diners. The base loomed ahead, a squat, concrete bunker half-hidden by its guise as abandoned shops, its windows black and uninviting. Ethan parked, the gravel crunching under his tires, and approached the. Was anyone here? The place felt abandoned, its silence eerie. He tugged the handle, expecting resistance, but it swung open with a faint creak. Unlocked? His brow furrowed as he stepped inside, the air cool and tinged with the musty scent of damp concrete. A faint glow spilled from the stairwell below, beckoning him down. Kellen met him halfway, the border collie’s claws clicking on the steps, his intelligent eyes glinting in the dim light. “Hi. Everything okay?” Ethan asked, his voice low, the quiet amplifying his words. Kellen nodded, his ears twitching, a silent assurance. “Is Nick still sleeping?” Another nod, Kellen’s gaze steady. “And don’t wake him,” Ethan said, half to himself. Kellen’s look—sharp, almost exasperated—said it all: always assume Nick’s asleep, always avoid waking him. Today, it seemed doubly critical. Why? Ethan wondered, noting the dog’s tense posture as Kellen led him down the stairs, the lights in the central rec room dimmed to a faint amber glow. Alex emerged from a side room, shutting the door softly behind him wearing dress slacks and a vest again. Ethan wondered if it was an S.P.A. dress code or if it was what he was comfortable in growing up as the son of someone so rich. “That’s where you ran off to,” Alex said to Kellen, his voice a whisper, a faint smile softening his tired features. He put a finger to his lips, pointing to the rec room’s sagging couch, where Nick lay sprawled, papers scattered around him like fallen leaves. His face and hands were discolored, a raw, pinkish hue under the dim light—sunburn, but worse, a vampire’s bane. Alex gestured for Ethan to follow, his movements careful, as if the air itself might wake the sleeping predator. They entered a smaller room, its concrete walls lined with monitors and humming servers, a glossy black table dominating the center. Ethan sank into a chair, its metal frame cold through his jeans. “Nick got sunburned today,” Alex said, his voice low, hazel eyes flicking to the door. “We’re giving him space while he recovers. This room’s not as comfortable as the rec room, but it’ll do until he’s up.” The security room’s air was stale, the servers’ hum a constant drone, their green lights blinking like distant stars. “Thanks for coming back. We weren’t sure you would. I know this was a shock.” Alex reached under the table, and its surface lit up, a touchscreen glowing with sharp clarity. Ethan’s eyes widened—high-tech, even for the S.P.A. “Nice,” he said, leaning forward, the screen’s light casting shadows across his face. “But my main question is, how am I going to help you? I don’t have any special skills.” “You do,” Alex countered, his tone earnest. “Seeing through illusions and dreams can keep them from being used against us. You could spot traps, ambushes, when we go after troublemakers.” His fingers tapped the table, the screen rippling slightly. Ethan’s skepticism sharpened, his voice dry. “So, you want me to walk into places with criminals so dangerous the S.P.A. won’t send its own agents, just a bunch of supernaturals, and find the traps they set to stop you?” “We’ll protect you,” Alex promised, his gaze steady. “And we’ll train you to protect yourself. You saw our training room—it’s not for show. We all use it, even Ash when she’s able. It’s mandatory. I won’t lie—it’s dangerous. We’ll do everything to keep you safe. I said yesterday we’re all dangerous, and we are. But we’re a team. In the field, I’d trust Nick and Cassie over any S.P.A. agent. Don’t tell Nick I said that—he’s arrogant enough.” Ethan’s lips twitched, a flicker of amusement breaking through his doubt. Alex leaned forward, his voice softening. “And with you, Ash might join us again. She responded to you better than anyone. That was the fastest she’s dissipated her dreams since losing control. She managed the others last night without my help. If you can keep her focused, maybe she can get off her meds.” Alex tugged at the sleeves of his shirt. Ethan nodded, the idea of helping Ash grounded him. That, he could do. But facing supernatural criminals? Before he could voice his doubts, Nick shuffled in, dressed this time, his burns less vivid now, his dark eyes glinting with a mix of fatigue and relief. Papers crinkled in his hand, retrieved from the couch. “I’m up. Thanks for letting me sleep. Sorry it was in the rec room.” Alex waved it off, his tone light. “At least you could this time. You look better. There’s another glass of blood in the fridge.” Nick vanished briefly, returning with a glass, the crimson liquid catching the monitor’s glow. “Thanks.” His voice held a rare note of surprise, his burns fading to a faint flush. “Don’t get used to it,” Alex warned, a half-smile tugging at his lips. Nick nodded, sipping the blood. “I’m surprised the bell didn’t wake me.” Alex shook his head. “Kellen let him in.” “No, he didn’t,” Ethan corrected, his brow furrowing. “I walked in. The door was unlocked.” “The door’s always locked,” Alex insisted, his eyes narrowing. “We don’t even use a key.” “No, the spell you used knows us and lets us in,” Nick said, his voice low, a predatory edge creeping in. “And apparently, people immune to magic.” His gaze flicked to Ethan, assessing. Alex nodded, realization dawning. “Ethan and I were discussing what he might do on the team.” “Keep an eye on Ash,” Nick said, his tone final, the glass clinking as he set it on the table. “That’s one thing,” Alex agreed. “I was thinking front man, with one of us for protection.” “You or me. Not Cassie—she’s too unreliable,” Nick decided, his posture regaining its coiled strength. “We’ll see what works,” Alex said, his voice diplomatic but firm. Nick nodded, his eyes lingering on Ethan. “And I want to see him with Ash. Where is she?” “Up in Cassie’s room, having a ‘girls’ night’ with Cassie and Jessica,” Alex said. “Cassie mentioned chick flicks.” Nick’s frown deepened, his fangs glinting faintly. “Cassie’s idea of a chick flick is a slasher film. Ash can’t handle that.” “Cassie knows that. I’m sure she picked something good for Ash. They’ve got another half hour before Ash can manifest anything. They’ll be down before then,” Alex assured him, his voice calm but authoritative. “If she manifests a zombie, you’re dealing with it,” Nick warned, pointing at Alex, his tone half-serious. Alex smiled, a glint of challenge in his eyes. “That’d be a perfect test for Ethan. If he can talk her out of a horror dream, I don’t care what else he can do—he’s in.” “Zombies?” Ethan asked, his stomach twisting. How dangerous was Ash, really? “Just a possibility, depending on what they’re watching,” Nick said, his voice softening slightly. “Usually, she manifests something from the latest show or book she’s seen. Most are more annoying than dangerous.” Alex’s phone buzzed, its screen lighting up. He glanced at the caller ID, a genuine smile breaking through his fatigue. “I’ll be back.” He stepped out, shutting the door behind him. Ethan caught a glimpse of a bandage on his wrist, half-hidden by his sleeve. Was that his blood in Nick’s glass? Nick grinned, his fangs glinting as he leaned toward Ethan, his voice conspiratorial. “Wanna really piss him off?” He tapped at the computer table. “Not particularly,” Ethan said, leaning back, his arms crossed. “We’ve got one of the most powerful computers in the city, maybe the country. He hates it when we use it for solitaire.” Nick loaded the game, cards snapping onto the screen with a satisfying click. “Seriously?” Ethan’s voice was flat, his eyebrow arched. “There are other computers for games,” Nick admitted, his grin widening. Ethan gave him a bland look. “I figured you’d come up with something more imaginative than that.” Nick laughed, a low, rough sound that echoed in the small room. “I like you. Any suggestions?” “I already said I’m not looking to piss him off tonight. Maybe another time.” Ethan’s tone was light, but his eyes held a cautious edge. Nick shook his head, still chuckling, and kept playing, the cards’ digital shuffle filling the silence. Ethan watched, his mind turning. “So, what made you decide to help the S.P.A.?” he asked, his voice casual but probing. Understanding their motives might tip his decision. Nick’s eyes stayed on the screen, his fingers pausing briefly. “I was given a choice: stay a prisoner or help. Most captured during the war were staked. I didn’t survive this long to die. Adapt or die.” His voice was flat, the weight of centuries behind it, his burns now a faint memory on his skin. Ethan nodded, glancing at the game. “You’d be better off moving the three of spades.” Nick glared, his eyes glinting. “I know how to play.” “Knowing how and doing well are two different things,” Ethan teased, a small smile breaking through his wariness. Nick shook his head, a flicker of amusement in his gaze. He paused, his frown deepening, and quickly shut down the game, the screen going dark. His eyes flicked to the door, as if sensing something Ethan couldn’t. The room’s hum seemed louder, the air heavier, as Ethan waited, the S.P.A.’s world pulling him deeper into its shadows.