A/N: Emil's POV. Be prepared. Also, thanks for the reviews, I love hearing your feedback!

Since I was little kid, I knew not to assume people's own biased words to be fact until such lowly hypotheses were tried, tested, and proven. My mother always called me her 'little scientist', skipping stones at different angles and trying to identify constellations and doing his big sister's math homework for her. I could make sense of everything and anything, if I put my mind to it.

Even magic—especially magic. From just a few feet away, I could witness nuclear fusion, an explosion of antimatter, the creation of an aurora. I'd always been just a little bit jealous of Lucia's abilities, if only because she never used her magic for the sake of quantum physics or other unproven scientific principles. Who knew? Maybe this was the secret to legitimizing the theory of the multiverse!

She'd always just give me this knowing look, the one that told me I was too eccentric and awkward for my own good, and I'd be left to my own devices.

I digress, though: the world was hard-pressed to try to find ways to confuse me.

This, though? I was completely gobsmacked. I really like that word, actually. Gobsmacked. It's very accurate; I did indeed feel as though I had been smacked by all sorts of gob, whatever the hell that was.

How was this even possible? My magic life and my school life were never meant to converge like this.


KOREAN EXCHANGE STUDENT VICTIM OF CONTINUING ATTACKS

POLICE ASSURE CIVILIANS "WE HAVE IT UNDER CONTROL"


I don't read the paper. I never read the paper. Newspapers are out-of-date, only old folks and hipsters read those.

But, I couldn't keep myself from buying this one on my way to class. The headline screamed at me, cold and unforgiving, begging me to read it and weep. I'd just seen Yong Soo last Friday; he couldn't possibly be dead, could he?

He couldn't have been killed by some slimy, no-good vampire in an uncontrollable rage. "We have it under control," the police had promised.

Oh, that was hilarious. These guys didn't know what they were up against.

Vampires are brutal creatures when they're enraged. It's one thing to have an infestation of venomous snakes, but it's quite another when the venomous snakes look and act like people, only more conniving and less empathetic—not that this dissuaded me from taking one on. Whoever this filthy vamp was, he'd just agitated the wrong mathematics prodigy. And yes, that was definitely more threatening than it sounded.

At least, that's what I tried to tell Lucia (or Lukas, I guess, since we were in public) as I interrupted whatever conversation she'd been having with Andersen. I wish I could say I felt guilty for cutting my sister's soulmate off, but unfortunately, he was a jerk, and this was far more important.

"Emil," Lu retorted, an impatient edge creeping into her tone, "we're already on the case. It's not safe for you to get involved, anyway."

I rolled my eyes. "I managed perfectly fine during the dragon incident!"

We don't talk about the dragon incident; otherwise, I'd explain. All you need to know is that there was magic, and I'm the one who saved the day. That's what I always do—save the day, even when no one wants me to.

Lu, however, knew exactly what I was talking about, but she chose to write it off in favor of a scoff and an ever-pretentious, "this is completely different. You don't even have any real life experience with vampires, and you don't know how to defend yourself."

"There's some garlic in the house," I pointed out, "and I think we still have the stakes from that tent we used for last year's camping trip."

That's when Andersen piped up, smirking that devilish smirk that made me want to throttle him. "Actually, the stake thing doesn't work. They're definitely allergic to garlic, though!"

"Oh, and how would you know?" I sniffed, trying to appear unimpressed even as I was mentally noting that stakes would be useless. Maybe, if it looked like I was losing interest, Lu wouldn't be suspicious. Course, that would mean I'd be forced to slay a vampire all by myself, but that was okay.

"Well, my best friend's from a family of vampire slayers," Andersen explained through a thick layer of sardonicism, "though I'm sure you'd know better. I mean, you are the one with the AP Physics textbook."

Ouch. "Lu, would you please make him shut the hell up?"

"I think you had that one coming, Emil." God, only Andersen could make her say that, I swear. This soulmate thing was a mess, especially if it was unrequited.

Not that it was Lu's fault it was unrequited. No, that was all Andersen.

Luckily, I still had a secret weapon: Lucia could never ignore my cutesy lillebror voice. "C'mon, Lu," I whined, batting my eyes melodramatically (this had better work, because this bit was pretty damned embarrassing). "Storesøstre are supposed to protect their little brothers, right?"

But, Lu only gave me a patronizing pat on the head and replied, "technically speaking, I'm not your storesøster anymore. You ought to start calling me storebror, lillebror."

"What? But- but…" I trailed off, words failing me as I floundered for order or reason in this sudden chaos. How could she not be my storesøster? She'd (or rather, he'd?) always been my storesøster. That simply made no sense to me. "You don't have a problem with me calling you Lucia at home!" I retorted. "No one even knows what 'storesøster' means, anyway!"

Andersen didn't even hesitate before raising his hand and saying, "I do!"

My jaw dropped in astonishment. "You do?" Had he been learning Norwegian, just because our family had emigrated here from Norway (and Iceland, sort of… it's complicated)?

"Ja, I'm Danish. Storesøster means the same thing in Danish as it does in Norwegian. Or was that Swedish?" He exaggerated his barely-noticeable accent (honestly, had he not pointed it out, I would've thought he was American), almost like he'd miraculously shoved a potato down his throat in the blink of an eye.

I ignored his question. In my opinion, if he couldn't tell the difference between Swedish and Norwegian on his own, he didn't deserve to know. Instead, I furrowed my brow and turned to my sister, exclaiming, "cripes, Lu, he's Danish! You can't marry a Dane!"

"You're from Iceland, Emil. You're biased," Lu sneered in reply. She tried to push a lock of hair behind her ear, but it was too short, sliding right back in front of her eyes. "And who said anything about marrying anyone? For all we know, I'm stuck like this forever."

Ah, and whose fault was that? Right, the person Lu was trying to flirt with. Oh my god.

Not that Andersen was unreceptive; no, he was leading her on just fine. "Oh, don't be so pessimistic!" he chided with a lopsided grin which, added to his meager seventeen year-old boy stubble, made for a pretty alluring trap. Hell, even I was starting to leer.

Andersen leaned over so that his face was mere inches from Lu's (ewww), staring into her eyes as continued to smile wolfishly. "Maybe I just need a little more…" he trailed off, taking that same strand of hair Lu had been messing with, and brushing it back. Naturally, it stayed in place perfectly fine when he did it. "Convincing," he finished, pulling back and winking right at me as he took an ever-so-innocent sip out of his can of ginger ale.

That was the moment I decided I hated ginger ale with a passion, and the moment I realized just how flirtatious straight guys could be around other men. It was pretty amazing, actually. I could never flirt that well with guys, and I'm bisexual. "Okay, I officially take everything back. Mat, you are the biggest fuckboy I have ever met."

"Hey!" he cried in mock offense, crossing his arms over his chest. "I think that was pretty smooth, actually."

The worst part was: he was right. That was super smooth! Why was he so smooth?! It wasn't fair...

"Emil, do you have anything else to say?" Lu sighed, her moment clearly ruined. "Because I don't think your pouty face is gonna cut it this time around. I know your friend is dead, and I'm really sorry, but that's no reason to bring Matthias into this, I can't risk your safety. Mom just got back last night, and she's enough of a handful on her own; I don't wanna have to chase around two irresponsible family members. So, sorry, but 'no' is my final answer."

And suddenly, everything made sense. Of course Lu was being so short with me; she always got uptight when mom was in town. The only mystery here was Matthias Andersen's suaveness, which I could easily chalk up to his being a fuckboy.

Course, that didn't really help my situation. I still kinda really wanted to kill a vampire and satiate my desire for revenge, but no one looked willing to help with that, and I couldn't exactly take on a venomous supervillain without any help.

Except… Andersen. Would he be willing to let me in? He'd never specifically said 'no'' (not that he'd said 'yes', either). Perhaps it was worth a shot. "That's really great," I told Lu, trying to use a tone that sounded equal parts disappointed and submissive. I took a sip from my carton of milk with my left hand, using my dominant hand to pull out a notebook and surreptitiously scrawl 'Andersen, text me about vampire slaying. Number is XXX-XXXX. Thanks.' under the table. I ripped the piece of paper out as I took a bite out of my peanut-butter sandwich, and folded it up before standing up. "Oh, and don't expect me home tonight," I added with a grouchy pout, holding Lu's gaze as I tucked the paper under Andersen's can of pop. "Lilli invited me over after school, she said I looked kinda out of it today. Don't wanna worry her, y'know." Not that my own sister seems to mind. I turned around, watching as Andersen surreptitiously slipped the paper out from under the can, slid it back under the table, and skimmed it.

He looked back up at me and winked, saying, "see ya, Emil!" and then mouthing, 'I'll text you'.

Satisfied, I walked past him and tossed out my half-finished lunch, leaving the cafeteria. I guess I'd only be, what, ten minutes early to my next class?

Yeah, sure, why not?


"And then, he starts flirting with her, and leading her on like he's suddenly gonna fall in love with her or some shit! I can't believe this!"

Lilli Zwingli looked politely concerned as she took a long sip of her hot chocolate, likely trying her damnedest to figure out how to reply to me. "I'm sorry, Emil, that must be awful. Oh, would you like some whipped cream on yours?"

She had a propensity for maintaining civility in the face of chaos (me being the chaos nine times out of ten), which I was typically grateful for. She kept me in check, and she didn't judge me when I went off my rocker.

Right now, however, it was really starting to piss me off.

"Yes, I would love some whipped cream on my hot chocolate," I drawled, batting my eyes in mocking as I added, "and I'll take a cute little sprinkle of cinnamon on the top too. Now, would you at least, I dunno, respond to what I'm saying without beating around the damned bush?"

She sighed and admitted, "well, I don't quite know what you expect me to say. You should know by now I'm no expert with boys." To my surprise, she actually obeyed my facetious request, putting a large swirl of whipped cream on my cocoa and topping it off with some cinnamon she'd retrieved from a cabinet.

"You're right," I said, "girls are more your thing."

"That they are. God, if Alice Vargas wasn't taken and two years older than me…"

I nodded, accepting this change in subject. "She's a bit too air-headed for me, but I guess I can see the appeal. Oxenstierna, though."

"What is it with you and tall, buff folks who look like they could kill you?" Lilli demanded incredulously, even as she shot me a knowing smirk. "You can't pretend I didn't see you checking out Monika Beilschmidt when we were leaving class."

"Speak for yourself!" I scoffed. "I was checking out her older sister and her beautiful car."

Not that Monika's older sister was any more in my league than Monika herself—Julchen was college-aged, and I only knew her because she picked Monika up from school.

Lillie gaped. "Julchen? She's crazy… and she could also probably kill you, which only proves my point."

"Yep," I agreed as I stirred my drink, watching the cream and cinnamon streak across the chocolate as I tried to wipe the dopey grin off of my face.

I was allowed to bask in the silence for just a moment before Lilli seemed to recall something. "Alright, I'm glad we had that little tangent, but that can't be what's gotten you so bothered. Are you okay after last night?"

"With Yong Soo? I'm kinda trying not to think about it." Finally satisfied with the sweet, frothy mix, I took a sip of the hot chocolate, continuing to ignore the fact that my friend was dead.

Lilli let out another sigh. "That's okay for now, I guess, but denial's the first stage of grief, y'know, and I'm not sure if either of us wanna deal with the other four."

I stifled a laugh. "God, I only knew him for three months, Lilli. It's not like he's my father or something."

Says the one whose father is actually dead, no one said, but we both probably thought it. We sat there in silence for a while, drinking our hot cocoa and trying to find a way to break the tension.

Luckily, her older brother, Basch, interrupted and told me to go home before it got weird- well, weirder.

At least, I'd thought I'd escaped total weirdness until, just as I was walking out the door, Basch leaned over and whispered, "I'm onto you."

And, goddamn, if that wasn't creepy, I didn't know what was.


That particular day was the first of a series of many where concentration was impossible and embarrassment was inevitable. I wasn't sure what had caused it, or how to cure it, but that day was the start of an era of confusing times, and as much as I wanted to blame my feelings on teenage angst and stress from the death of my friend (not that I was openly citing that as a reason anyhow), the shivers down my spine and phantom touches on my shoulder and face and back suggested otherwise.

Not to mention the random puffin that had started following me. Hell, I didn't even like birds! Why would such a stupid creature feel the need to stalk me the entire one and a half-mile walk home from Lilli's house?

I tried to just forget about the fact that puffins weren't native to Minnesota, much less Icelandic puffins like the one flying behind me.

I made my way back home, pretending not to notice the black-and-white menace trailing behind me as he vied for my attention.

I couldn't even use Lucia as a distraction (or, at the very least, proof that I wasn't clinically insane), since she was with her stupid soulmate.

The bird let out an exasperated squawk, trying to pounce at my shoulder as I dodged.

"God, what's wrong with you?" I snapped. "I'm not gonna feed you, why are you following me?"

"Damn, Emil, I know I have a reputation for eating in class, but I'm not about to beg for snacks on the street!"

Well, that definitely wasn't the puffin. I turned around to see Allison Jones scowling at me, seeming either confused or mildly offended or a rightfully concerned cocktail of the two.

"And," she added with a blush, "I'm totally not following you! I'm just gonna meet Arthur, and your house is on the way, okay? Jeez, what's wrong with you? You've been so weird lately."

Flabbergasted, I pointed in the direction of my volucrine accomplice. "I was talking to the bird!" I shot back, as if that made me sound less freaky.

Allie raised an eyebrow. "What bird?"

"That bir-" I stopped as I swiveled back around, only to find that my stalker had finally decided to leave me the hell alone. "Never mind, he's gone."

We stood there for a minute in stilted silence before the rest of her words registered. You've been weird lately. I mean, she wasn't lying, but how would she know that? "Whataya mean, 'weird'?"

"You don't remember AP Physics today?" she asked, face suddenly going slack with fear. "God, I told Sakura it was a demon possession, but no, she didn't believe me."

Ooh, this couldn't be good. Allie always sat right next to me in that class (actually, she's sat next to me since grade school, since 'Jensen' and 'Jones' are right next to each other in the alphabet). Physics class that day had been a blur of equations and gravity and crap; who knew what I had done? "Uhh, what? What happened?"

"You were whispering some sort of Satanic shit, over and over again!" she yelled, grasping my shoulders as if she was worried I would dissolve into smoke or something. "I thought you were gonna magic up some sort of death spell or something!"

I was taken aback by the look of sheer terror in her eyes, and even without the glare, her words were almost enough to make me panic. "Magic?" I cried out, utterly perplexed and more than a little unnerved. "I don't even have magic—that's my sister."

Allie didn't look convinced. "Bro, do you even know what you said?"

"... Not exactly," I admitted, biting my lip anxiously as I waited for her to explain what exactly I had said (clearly, it must have been pretty bad). Perhaps this had something to do with the bird that disappeared whenever anyone else was around?

Or maybe I was just crazy. Or possessed by a demon.

But, before I could continue down that stream of thought, Allie shook me (no, literally, she actually picked me up and shook me) back to reality. "That was the look on your face, it was just like that! Don't do it again!"

"It's good, I'm good!" I gasped out just as the wind got knocked out of me—it was no secret that Allison Jones was the strongest girl in our class and I couldn't bench a wet noodle. "Just put me down, please!"

She dropped me like she would a sack of potatoes, and I fell gracelessly onto my ass, yelping at the shocking, stinging sensation of my tailbone hitting the ground.

"You told me you were going to spill your own blood and resurrect the dead," she explained, only slightly calmer. "It sounded like some shit from a horror movie, or something! What the hell is Mr. Kirkland teaching you in AP Lang, anyway?"

"Not that. Cripes." I shook my head—that sure sounded like a Satanic death spell to me. What was happening to me?

"So, is that bad? What does that mean?" she demanded, as if I was some sort of expert on this stuff.

"You're asking me?" I squeaked, my voice cracking embarrassingly as I found myself, for the second time today, completely gobsmacked. "How am I supposed to know? I don't do magic shit!"

"Well, neither do I!" she replied indignantly, hands on her hips.

I rolled my eyes. "I know that!"

"I know you know that!" she barked.

I tried to look down at her, but she was an inch or so taller than me, so it didn't really work. Abashed, I muttered, "then why did you have to say anything, huh?"

"Screw you!"

There was a pause, then she awkwardly added, "um, so, should you talk to Arthur or something?"

"My sister's ex-boyfriend?" I scoffed. "You're joking. I'll just tell Lucia, and hopefully she'll know what the hell is wrong with me."

"Well, fine then!"

"Fine!"

"Fine!"

"Fine!"

Silence, then: "Umm, so I really was planning on going to Arthur's house, so if I could just get around you…"

"Oh, right. Uh, I guess I'll see you in physics class tomorrow, then?"

"Yeah, okay, see ya." And with that, she marched away, refusing to look me in the eye. I couldn't recall a time she'd gotten so cross with someone, so I must've gotten on her bad side.

"Way to go, Emil," I mumbled under my breath, just as my phone buzzed in my pocket.

I pulled it out. Apparently, I'd gotten a text from Andersen. "hey, this is mat! u wanted to talk about vampires, right?"

"yeah," I replied.

"imma go look for vamps w/ my friend at 8. lu isn't going bc she has homework," he said, then added, "wanna come?"

I opted to ignore the fact that she could easily have gotten her homework done already, had she not been over at Andersen's house slacking off. "Sure," I replied, and tried to smile as I continued my walk home—at least one thing in my life was going right.


Everything would've been wonderful, had the puffin not reappeared just as I was opening the door, swooping in and making himself at home in my house.

I charged in, haplessly dropping my schoolbag and forgetting to shut the door behind me as I flailed around, hoping to ward off the idiot bird. "Scram, goddammit!" I yelled as I swatted at it. "I'll call animal control!"

"Ehh, they won't be able to see me anyway," the puffin replied.

Okay, no. No, this was too much. Birds don't talk. "God, I really am crazy, aren't I?"

The bird cocked his head. "No one ever said that. Just because you're the only one who can see me, doesn't mean I don't exist."

"How do I prove that?"

"You can't."

I rolled my eyes. "Gee, thanks for that. Please leave."

"Nah, ya bastard, I can't leave!" he retorted, brash and uncouth. "You're supposed to help me pass on."

I raised an eyebrow, bemused by, well, not just the fact that I had a talking bird in my kitchen, but also the words the talking bird spoke. "Pass on? What, like to the afterlife or something?"

"Exactly! You're the King of the Dead!"

Honestly, I was almost offended. Fine, so I had crazy dark circles under my eyes from typical high schooler sleep deprivation (and late night Netflix marathons), and perhaps white-blond hair on a fifteen year-old boy was a bit uncanny, but that didn't make me a zombie, or general of the skeleton army, or whatever the hell the King of the Dead was actually supposed to be.

I shook my head, as if it would shake out my silly inner monologues. "Okay, I've heard enough of this. Get out of my goddamn house while I sort this out."

"But-"

"I'm King of the Dead," I bantered back, hoping that if I played my cards just right, I'd maybe have a dead bird doing my bidding, which was slightly better than a dead bird who refused to listen to me. "That makes you my subject, right?"

The puffin looked taken aback (at least, that's how I interpreted the cocking of his head and the slow, confused blink). "Well, technically, yes, but-"

"Then I can command you to do whatever I want, right?" I interrupted, turning away to retrieve my backpack and walk toward the stairwell that led to my my backpack.

"Yeah, but-"

"Cool," I said dismissively, slinging the bag over my shoulder and making my way toward the stairwell that led to my room. "Leave. Now."

"Fine, ya punk, but I'll be back!"

After that, I got a full hour of blissful silence. I finished my calculus homework (and put the results in Lu's room, since she would probably ask to copy it anyway), made decent headway on an essay for AP Lang, and I was just opening my physics textbook when, suddenly, I blacked out.

When I awoke, I found myself in a barren wasteland of snow and ice, no civilization in sight save for an industrial-looking metal building off in the distance lit by a single yellow bulb that illuminated the frosted tundra around it.

Other than that light, it was completely dark. I distantly thought that I should probably have felt colder than I actually did, given that I was in an icy winter wonderland in the middle of the night without a coat, but I actually felt… comfortable? Almost weightless.

I was shaken from my thoughts by a woman, barely visible in the dim glow of the building's light. "Come on," she said as she grabbed my shoulder, pulling me toward the building, "I need to show you something."

"Who are you and where the hell am I?" I snapped. Was I dreaming? Was I hallucinating? Had I actually been transported somewhere? I couldn't rule anything out, and my lack of knowledge made my temper flare.

The woman let go of my shoulder, her lips turning upward just slightly in an abashed, uncertain smile. "My name is Katyusha Braginsky. Welcome to Siberia, I guess."

Siberia. What the actual fuck.

I shook my head, eyes wide with disbelief. "You've gotta be kidding me."