Archive of Our Own

“So I’ve been thinking,” Cloud said, out of the blue.

“Uh oh,” said Flint. “That’s never good.”

Cloud shot him an annoyed glare, to which he gave a far-too-pleased-with-himself smile. Not far from them, Umber simply rolled her eyes, sweeping a feather duster across the fireplace mantel. Cleaning the parlor wasn’t technically any of their jobs, but since the janitor had been murdered yesterday—the doing of the Amazing Aureolin, not any of them—Irratino had declared today “spring cleaning”, meaning the entire staff had to pitch in to clean the chateau. A building this old and this large accrued a lot of dust, after all, and that was before you factored in tidying up after exploded experiments or accidental injuries from general disregard for their own safety or murders.

“I’ve been thinking for a while,” Cloud continued, as though Flint had never spoken. “And I wanted some input—do vampires count as cryptids?” As they spoke, they walked over to the newly dusted mantel and sprayed it a few times with the cleaning fluid.

“I mean...” Umber stepped back from the fireplace, moving to dust the bookshelf. “Maybe? Depends on your definition of cryptid.”

“Well, going purely by the dictionary definition, ‘cryptids’ are any animal or creature said to exist but not proven to do so,” Flint chimed in, sweeping the broom across the floor in large, lazy arcs. “So, based on the meaning of the word—yes, they are.”

“So then it’s not odd—” Cloud began wiping the mantel down, polishing it to a shine “—for me to look into vampires.”

“Not like we’ve got a folklorist,” Umber muttered.

They fell silent for a few seconds; to Flint and Umber, that was the end of the conversation. But Cloud had another thought in mind, one directly tied to their newfound interest in vampires, and one that, after thinking of the best way to phrase it, they decided to voice out loud: “I think Irratino is a vampire.”

Both Flint and Umber stopped mid-sweep, slowly turning to stare at Cloud in befuddlement. “...okay, this I gotta hear,” Flint declared, dropping the broom against the wall.

“I’m serious. I mean, super rich and mysterious guy who lives in a giant mansion and is obsessed with the occult? That’s, like, peak vampire energy.”

“You know ‘obsessed with the occult’ describes, like, everyone here, right?” Umber said dryly, now standing on her toes to dust the top of the bookshelf. “That doesn’t prove anything in this place.”

Cloud huffed. “Okay, fine, but it also doesn’t disprove anything.”

“Haven’t we seen him in the sun, like...” Flint pinwheeled a hand. “A lot of times?”

“He could be using sunscreen,” Cloud replied without missing a beat; they were done wiping by now, and dropped the towel onto the mantel. “Ancient vampire problems require modern vampire solutions.”

“He wears silver earrings,” Umber said.

“Maybe they aren’t silver. Maybe they’re...I dunno, platinum. They’re similar enough metals, right?”

“Oh, so like garnets and rubies,” Umber muttered to herself with a chuckle. Cloud and Flint stared blankly at her. “Never mind, carry on.”

Cloud cleared their throat. “My point is,” they said, straightening to their full height (which wasn’t much, nobody in the Institute was particularly tall save Irratino), “there’s no proof Irratino is not a vampire, hence my hypothesis.”

“I don’t think ‘hypothesis’ is the word you wanna use,” Flint said, picking up the broom again. “‘Hypothesis’ implies you actually have evidence.”

“I can find evidence. Isn’t that the whole point of this place?” Cloud spread their hands to emphasize their point. “Investigating mysteries wherever they lead, with whatever means necessary?”

“Does it count if the mystery only exists in your head?” Umber asked dryly, finally turning from the bookshelf to level a deadpan stare at Cloud.

Cloud scoffed lightly, crossing their arms. “Fine. You guys don’t wanna believe me? Fine. I’ll go out and prove that Irratino’s a vampire.”

Flint, who was walking to an undusted spot on the floor, snorted. “Yeah, good luck with th—ow!” He dropped the broom and hopped backwards, clutching his foot—Umber let out a yelp of her own and stepped back as the bookshelf she’d been dusting suddenly rotated, revealing a dark stone tunnel.

The three of them stared at the tunnel for a good few seconds. “I stubbed my toe,” Flint said weakly.

“Why do we have that button?” Umber asked, gesturing to the small button on the floor. Cloud could only shrug. They had no idea.

A few days had passed since then, enough time for Cloud to put together a plan to prove, once and for all, Irratino was secretly a vampire. Vibes alone would not be enough; they needed hard facts, and to get those, they needed to test multiple methods of vampiric detection and see if any of them worked.

So, in those few days, they made a list of everything vampire-y.

Things that prove a vampire is a vampire:

• Burns in sunlight (big one)
• Drinks blood (also big one!)
• Doesn’t appear in mirrors
• Immortal (big one but probably untestable!)
• Turns into a bat (also untestable but it would be so cute)
• Vulnerable to silver
• Vulnerable to running water
• Vulnerable to garlic
• Vulnerable to crosses (weird amount of vulnerabilities)
• Killed by a stake to the heart no wait that would kill anyone
• Must be invited that one’s just false
• Ice cold to the touch
• FANGS! Biggest one of all

It was a long list, but vampires were very popular in pop culture and thus had a lot of associated habits. Cloud didn’t mind—it meant they had more vampire-detection methods to use. Even if some or even most of the items on the list were duds, as long as at least one turned out to be true, then Cloud had their proof.

And right now, they had an opportunity to test the first item on their list: sunlight. They were alone in Irratino’s office—alone save for the man himself, that is, who was hunched over his desk doing paperwork he had put off the whole week but had run out of excuses to not do, grumbling to himself the whole way. The blinds on the window were pulled shut, only slivers of sunlight traveling through; if they were open all the way, the light would definitely fall on the desk. And, should there be a reaction, then Cloud would know Irratino was a vampire.

They hadn’t actually opened the blinds, though. Mostly because, if there was a reaction, that reaction would probably involve Irratino burning to death and Cloud would rather avoid that outcome. Partially because Irratino was the one signing their paychecks, partially because they did actually like their boss and didn’t want to kill him. So instead, they awkwardly stood next to the window, contemplating whether to ask Irratino if they could open the blinds. If he said no, then they’d lose their opportunity to test the method and would have to wait a while for another, if he said yes, then that meant he was probably fine with the sun, but if they just pulled the blinds open and it turned out he did burn in sunlight...

Ah, screw it. “You mind if I open the blinds?” Cloud asked. Irratino paused, peering over his shoulder quizzically. “Wanted to let some light in,” they said. If this was a dud, they could just try something else, and there wasn’t much reason for him to say no. If he did...he might just be hiding something.

In that regard, though, they were disappointed. “Go ahead,” Irratino said with a shrug, turning back to the paperwork. Bracing themself for whatever might happen, Cloud pulled the blinds open and swiftly turned to see Irratino’s reaction.

Alas, they were disappointed there too, because nothing happened at first. Irratino just continued his work, rifling through papers and occasionally writing things down with swift, loopy strokes of his pen. The only difference was that he was now doing this in the sun, the light glinting off the silver (platinum? Steel? Maybe?) stars hanging from his ears. Still, Cloud refused to be discouraged. For all they knew, vampires’ weakness to sunlight could be a slow burn (ha) kind of thing. So they waited.

And waited.

Aaaaand waited.

Eventually, Irratino stopped, and for a moment, Cloud thought something might happen—but all he did was look back at Cloud and ask, clearly puzzled, “Is me doing paperwork really that interesting?”

Cloud startled in place, eyes briefly widening. “Uh—” They cleared their throat. “No. No, I’ll just...be...” Ducking their head, they awkwardly sidled away from the window and started heading for the door. They made it halfway across the office like this, Irratino staring at them the whole way, before giving up on a graceful exit and scurrying out the door and down the hallway.

Okay, so sunlight was a bust. Whatever, that didn’t prove anything. As Cloud had said to Flint and Umber, Irratino could still be wearing sunscreen or simply immune to sunlight. Maybe the whole “burns in the sun” thing was just false. And besides, Cloud still had plenty of other items on their list.

With sunlight having proved ineffective in the “prove Irratino is a vampire” experiment, Cloud decided to move on to the next item: blood. If one thing was consistent across all vampire stories, it was that vampires couldn’t resist blood. As such, the best way to test this would be by spilling some blood and seeing Irratino’s reaction.

They weren’t going to kill anyone, for once. The experiment was, admittedly, not worth going to jail over. (Plus, if they revealed Irratino was a vampire, he’d probably be a lot less inclined to pay their bail money.) Nor were they going to hurt any of their fellow employees. But injuring themself in such a way they would bleed? That, they could do.

And this provided them their chance; they were in the parlor, the same one they’d been cleaning with Flint and Umber a week ago, listening to Irratino go on about some new mystic theory along with Flint and Azure. Well, Flint and Azure were listening. Cloud’s attention was on the vase that Irratino had impulse-bought a few days ago and stuck on an end table in the parlor for lack of anywhere better to put it. It was a pretty vase, they had to admit—a deep, rich blue, with intricate floral patterns painted onto the surface—but more than that, it looked fragile. Fragile enough for Cloud’s purposes.

As Irratino paced the floor, talking all the while, and Flint and Azure sat in their chairs listening, Cloud slowly moved towards the vase, walking as casually as possible. Their eyes flicked to the side, making sure no one was watching, before they, quite simply, launched themself forward, hit the vase dead-on, and sent both themself and it tumbling to the ground with a CRASH!

The sound of shattering porcelain caused Irratino to whip around. Flint and Azure twisted in their chairs to look, the mystic theories forgotten. And Cloud, lying on the ground surrounded by shards of vase, pain blooming up their arm and their sleeve feeling damp, was suddenly aware of the major fault of this plan:

It required them to launch themself into a vase.

“What happened?!” Irratino exclaimed, rushing over and kneeling to help Cloud sit up. “Are you okay? Stupid question, you’re bleeding, but still—”

“I tripped,” Cloud said faintly, already feeling dizzy. Maybe they should’ve thought this through a bit better.

“On what?” Flint asked, leaning over to scan the floor.

“Doesn’t matter—” Irratino unrolled Cloud’s sleeve, pulling a handkerchief from his pocket and wrapping it around the long cut on Cloud’s arm. “I’m getting the first aid kit—don’t move!” he added, and Cloud instantly stopped—Irratino was using what Flint called his “Boss Tone”, which was a sign for all staff in the area to shut up and do what he said and was generally saved for emergencies or when his employees were testing his (admittedly legendary) patience. “Flint, Azure, keep an eye on them—”

“Yes, sir!” Azure declared, saluting in her seat.

“—I’ll be back!” And with that, Irratino stood up and ran out of the parlor.

A long, somewhat awkward silence followed. Cloud bit their lip to hold back a groan, their arm still stinging from the cut and blood dripping onto the floor. It wasn’t just the pain, though that was a pretty big part of it—it was also that they had shattered a vase and hardly gotten...well, they had gotten a reaction, but not the one they’d wanted.

“So, uh,” Flint said, sauntering over to Cloud with a slight smirk, “I know what you were trying there, and—you know that if that did work, you’d be bleeding in a room with a feral vampire, right?”

“Vampire?” Azure asked, standing up to join them.

“Cloud thinks Boss is a vampire,” Flint explained, hooking a thumb down at Cloud before looking back at them. “I’m guessing you were tryin’ to get him to go into some kind of blood frenzy?”

“I—” Cloud let out a short sigh. “Basically.”

“But Irratino’s so nice!” Azure gasped, hands smacking the sides of her face. “Why would he drink your blood?”

“I thought maybe instinct— can one of you get me to a chair? I don’t want to sit on the floor...”

Luckily, neither Flint nor Azure were unwilling to help, and with both of them carrying Cloud by the shoulders, they made their way to the closest faux-leather seat for Cloud to collapse into. They’d have walked there themself, but their legs didn’t feel particularly up to walking right now.

“I dunno if Irratino’s a vampire,” Azure said, leaning against the arm of the chair and watching Cloud with a concerned frown, “but if he was, I don’t think he’d eat any of us.”

“Yeah, Boss likes us too much to eat us,” Flint said, upper half casually draped over the back of the chair opposite to Cloud. “I mean, he pays to keep us out of prison for murder, he’s gotta like us at least a bit.”

“Instinct,” Cloud muttered, then realized they’d already said that and tried to elaborate. “Look, if you haven’t eaten in a while and you see and smell food—”

“He does eat,” Azure cut in, brow creased in confusion. “Cloud, you two literally have the same diet. You should know this.”

She made a good point, Cloud had to admit—they were both vegetarians, even if, for Irratino, that was a relatively recent development. (Apparently, it had involved having to solve a case at a slaughterhouse—and that was all Cloud knew, because everyone had screamed at Irratino to not explain further. Considering Irratino had clearly not wanted to talk about it in the first place, it worked out for everyone.) Still, they weren’t going to give up so easily. “Maybe he supplements it with blood,” they said. “Maybe vampires can eat normal food.”

“Is that a thing?” Azure wondered out loud. “Can vampires eat normal food? A lot of the books I’ve read, their digestion doesn’t work or they just puke it up or they don’t get any nutrients—”

“How many vampire books have you read?” Flint asked, staring at her bemusedly.

“I borrowed a few from Umber,” Azure said. “Don’t tell anyone, she’s self-conscious,” she added, voice dropping to a whisper.

Both Cloud and Flint snorted. “Thank you for that bit of information,” Flint said, casually sliding into the chair. “I shall use it well.” He then shrugged. “But seriously, if Boss was both a vampire and willing to feed on his staff, I think we’d see a lot more es— exan— ex—” He blinked, looking puzzled for a second, before his brow furrowed and he held up a hand. “Ex-san-gui-na-ted,” he said slowly, counting each syllable off on his fingers as he sounded the word out, then let his hand drop back into his lap. “Bodies at the Institute,” he finished.

Cloud and Azure stared at him with identical blank expressions.

Flint sighed. “Bodies drained of blood.”

“Ohhhh,” they said in unison, before Cloud shook their head. “Well, maybe he doesn’t eat people. Maybe he gets blood from blood banks, or from ani—”

They stopped. “No. No, wait, I realized that was wrong as I was saying it.”

“Yeeeeah, I think Irratino would rather starve to death than hurt an animal,” Azure said with a sheepish chuckle.

“Who now?”

All three nearly jumped in place, looking at the door. Irratino had come back to the parlor, carrying a first-aid kit and pulling the door close behind him. “What’re you talking about?” he asked, tilting his head slightly.

“Uh...” Cloud hesitated. “You?” There was a pause.

Then, Irratino shrugged. “No, you’re right, that’s fair.” With a soft sigh, he walked up to Cloud. “Alright, lemme see...”

The good news was that the cut wasn’t that serious, and thus Cloud wouldn’t be spending the night in the hospital again (an experience they were all too familiar with from childhood). The bad news was that they had still flung themself into a vase and injured themself for absolutely nothing. (Frankly, they weren’t entirely sure why they thought it would work in the first place. They’d seen Irratino around murder victims before, he clearly didn’t go feral at the sight of blood.)

Even more annoyingly, Irratino’s hands had been perfectly warm when he’d been treating Cloud’s injury.

So that was “ice cold” crossed off the list.

The mirror thing had been a bit weird.

Some sources said vampires had no reflections at all, others that they just didn’t appear in mirrors. Some said they had no reflection because they had no soul. A few said they wouldn’t appear in cameras or film either (Does that extend to smartphone cameras? Cloud had briefly wondered, before putting it aside to focus on the task at hand). All told, it was a mess of confusing and contradictory information, and Cloud had considered just crossing it off to get it out of the way—especially since he already knew Irratino had a reflection. Guy had to get his corpse-makeup on for his Sunday routine somehow.

But digging deeper revealed that while modern mirrors were made of aluminum, older ones were made with silver. And in recent years, the lack of vampiric reflections had been attributed to—aha!—the presence of silver. So all Cloud needed to do was find a silver-plated mirror, see if Irratino had any reflection in it, and bingo!

The first part was shockingly easy. He asked Night where he could get a silver mirror, since they were smart and probably knew these things, and it turned out the Institute was storing one such mirror in the attic. So now he, Night, and Raven (who’d asked where they were going and decided to accompany them) were up in the attic, searching for that mirror.

“So what’s the difference between silver and aluminum mirrors, anyway?” Raven asked, pushing one of the many cardboard boxes aside. The attic wasn’t too small, even with the slanted roofs and visible support beams, but the cobwebs stretching across the corners, the boxes haphazardly piled and strewn across every inch of available space, and the dim lighting even though it was the middle of the afternoon made it feel small. Almost like you were surrounded, or trapped. Which might’ve been why they’d left the trapdoor open.

“Well, silver is significantly more reflective than aluminum,” Night explained, brushing some dust off a (not silver) hand mirror with their sleeve. “So it produces a sharper and more vivid reflection. But silver tarnishes a lot quicker, and costs more, so most people use aluminum.” They shrugged, setting the mirror back down. “I can’t say I’m too surprised Irratino has one, though.”

Cloud just gave a noncommittal hum, nudging aside a stack of boxes with his foot to check another corner.

“Why did you want a silver mirror, anyway?”

Cloud blinked, turning around to see Night curiously looking at him over their shoulder. “Well—”

“Wait, no, I’ve heard this one,” Raven said, and the suppressed laughter in her tone made Cloud’s eye involuntarily twitch. “I heard it from Flint—he thinks Irratino’s a vampire, doesn’t he?”

Night’s curiosity turned to incredulity. Cloud hissed in a breath, shoulders tensing as he shot a quick glare at Raven, before he simply sighed. “Yes.”

“...why?”

“Look, you look at a mysterious and super-rich guy who lives in a mansion and is obsessed with the occult and tell me—I’ve been trying to gather evidence, it isn’t really working out but I’m trying!”

“I think I’d know if my college friend was a vampire,” Night said. (Raven, for her part, had gone deeper into the maze of boxes.) “I think I’d notice if he had fangs. Or if his eyes changed color, or if he turned incredibly pale. He only looks like that when he’s faking his own murder.”

“I’m not accusing him based on if he looks too pale,” Cloud said, annoyance bubbling in his chest (actually, he was wondering how he’d forgotten that for his list, but then again it wasn’t like it applied to Irratino either way).

“No. You’d have to accuse yourself if you used that as your basis.”

“I grew up chronically ill with health conditions,” Cloud retorted, folding his arms with a huff. “I have an excuse.”

“Isn’t vampirism the ultimate health condition?” Raven called from behind the boxes.

Cloud opened his mouth, then paused. “...not wrong,” he admitted.

“Maybe you’re the vampire,” Night said dryly.

“Ha.”

The banter was cut short, though, when Raven shouted “Found it!” Cloud turned to where her voice came from in surprise, and her arm shot up over the boxes to wave them over. He hurried over, weaving through the maze of boxes with Night following close behind, and after a good few seconds they found Raven staring at the mirror and came to a stop.

Then, they looked at the mirror, and also stared.

“Wow,” Cloud said.

“Wow,” Night agreed.

It was gorgeous. The mirror was almost as tall as them, the curved frame made of metal and shaped to look like twisting, flowering vines, spiraling into a top that looked like a flower in full bloom. Even coated in dust and stuck in the dark, the mirror seemed to shine, their reflections just visible in the glass. “Is this it?” Cloud asked, stepping forward. “Would be kind of a shame if something this nice was just an ordinary aluminum mirror...”

“Irratino talked about the mirror to me and Umber a couple times,” Night murmured, not breaking their gaze. “This is definitely it.”

Cloud just nodded, dusting off the mirror with his sleeve. He took a moment to take it in (admittedly, he couldn’t see much of a difference between a silver reflection and an aluminum one), then looked over his shoulder to give Night a small smirk. “See? I have a reflection.”

“Yes, yes, I see.”

“Now, we just have to find out—” Cloud bent over and carefully grabbed the mirror by the frame “—if Irratino— has a—” He strained for a few moments to lift it, only getting it about an inch off the floor before he set it back down with a gasp. “Good god, that’s heavy!”

“Here, let me help.” Raven came over, and Cloud shifted to the right of the mirror so she could take the left. Together, they managed to get it off the floor, though they struggled a bit with exactly how to carry it, shifting it constantly and nearly dropping it a few times. By the time they finally settled on something—Cloud carrying the bottom of the mirror in front, Raven supporting the top in the back—Cloud’s arms were already burning from exertion and his legs wobbled from the weight.

“I’ve got the door,” said Night, who had headed over to the trapdoor to hold it open. “You, uh, you guys need hel—?”

“We’re good!” Cloud’s voice came out a lot more breathless than he expected, and he groaned; they needed to wrap this up quickly. With slow, shaky steps, he and Raven carefully maneuvered the mirror across the attic to the exit, Cloud looking over his shoulder to keep from running into anything. It was a bit of a struggle, and they nearly dropped it once (it didn’t help that Cloud’s hands were becoming slick with sweat by now), but they eventually made it over.

Unfortunately for Cloud, carrying the bottom of the mirror meant he had to climb down the ladder first.

Slowly—very, very slowly—Cloud stepped onto the rungs of the ladder and began climbing down with one hand, holding onto the mirror with the other. Above him, Raven very carefully lowered the mirror down, her grip wobbly but firm. Neither said a word, too focused on trying to get the mirror out of the attic without either Cloud falling off the ladder or the mirror falling on him.

“What’re you guys doing?”

Cloud gasped—he tilted dangerously back, and pulled himself closer to the ladder. “Oh—hi, Irratino!” He looked over his shoulder and gave him a strained smile, before immediately looking back at the mirror.

“Is...that the antique mirror?” Irratino asked. “Why’re you bringing it out?”

“We’re, uh, redecorating!” Cloud’s legs were trembling now, and he took a tentative step down the ladder. “There’s a wall! It’s kind of bare! We’d figured we’d get—” The mirror slipped slightly, and Raven hurriedly adjusted her grip “—get the mirror out! Put it up! You know?”

“Oh.” Irratino still sounded a bit confused, but he seemed willing to let it slide. Gritting his teeth, Cloud took another step—and then a thought struck him. He looked up at the mirror and began to ever so slightly tilt it. Just enough to see the rest of the corridor, just enough to see if Irratino appeared in the glass...

His heart sank. Darn. The mirror greeted him with a perfectly ordinary reflection of Irratino. No conspicuous lack of anything, no floating clothes without a person wearing them. Just Irratino, and no one else.

“Where did you—” Cloud huffed with effort as he took another step—just a few more and he’d be at the bottom. “Where did you get this, anyway?” Even if the mirror had turned out to be a dud—as had most of Cloud’s efforts—he’d already gotten it this far, so he might as well keep going.

“Uh...family heirloom,” Irratino said, watching the proceedings with no small amount of concern. “It...was my grandfather’s— are you okay? That looks heavy.”

“I’m fine!” Cloud’s hand slipped on the ladder, and he tightened his grip. “Just a few more steps!”

“Is redecorating really worth it? I do not want you to end up in the ER.”

“Everything’s just—!”

“Is now really the time?”

The new voice caused both Cloud and Raven to yelp in surprise, and Raven’s hands slipped from the mirror. Cloud shrieked as it started to fall, losing his grip on the ladder and pitching dangerously backwards—Irratino dashed forward, hands shooting out to catch him as Raven grabbed hold of the mirror again.

For a few seconds, Cloud just stood there, panting heavily as his heart rate slowly returned to normal. Okay. Way to almost break your neck trying to prove your point. Steadily, he climbed down the rest of the way with Irratino’s support, Raven coming down the ladder to lower the mirror all the way down. A deep sense of relief swept through him when his feet touched the floor, and another when Raven climbed down and Irratino released him, taking a step back.

“Thanks,” Cloud said, voice coming out a bit wheezy—his limbs felt like they’d been set on fire and used as a stress ball, and he dreaded the rest of the walk. He then looked over at the source of the voice that had almost startled him to his death. “Oh...hey, Deductive.”

Deductive Logico was staring at them with a deadpan look and raised brow, which seemed to be his default expression whenever at the Investigation Institute; he didn’t seem to like the staff very much, but none of the staff were quite sure they liked him, so it balanced out. He looked the same as he always did: black trench coat and fedora, leather gloves, scarf around his neck. Sometimes, Cloud wondered if he owned a thousand identical copies of the same trench coat. “Is this what you people do in your spare time?” he asked dryly. “Nearly crush yourself under mirrors?”

“Oh, shut up,” Cloud grumbled.

“What’s going on?” Night poked their head through the trapdoor, looking around a bit before their eyes fell on the small group in the hallway. “Oh—did someone get murdered?”

“Uh—yep.” Irratino chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his head and pushing his hair askew; Cloud caught a glimpse of amethysts hanging from his ears before his curls fell back to cover them. “Theologist got killed. We’re, ah, looking for clues.”

“We were going to search the attic,” Logico added. “But given you three were there, that doesn’t seem too necessary.”

“No, it isn’t.” Night climbed down the ladder with a swiftness Cloud envied. “We’ve been there for fifteen minutes—if there was anything or anyone out of place, we would’ve found it.”

“Yeah, cool, got it,” Cloud said—his arms were beginning to shake from the strain. “C’mon, guys, we gotta—”

“Wait, wait,” Irratino cut in, staring at the mirror like he was only now recognizing it. “What...mirror is that, again?”

“Family heirloom,” Raven got out, sounding just as strained as Cloud felt. “You said so.”

“But...” Irratino’s eyes then went wide with dawning comprehension. “Wait. That mirror?”

“Yeah. Sure. That one.”

“And you’re hanging it up?!”

Cloud had no idea why Irratino would be opposed to that—especially since he did, in fact, have a reflection—but before either he could ask or his arms fell off, Night smoothly interjected, “Yes, we are, and if you don’t let these two put it down, they’re probably going to collapse, so if you don’t mind...”

“...oh.” Irratino stepped in front of Logico, who looked a tad confused at the gesture. “Right. Yes. Go ahead.” His voice sounded stiff, and for a moment, Cloud wondered why—but then Raven started moving and his own feet had to hurry to keep up, leaving no time to wonder.

“See you later!” he called out as he and Raven scurried down the hallway on pure momentum, barely managing to round the corner before they set the mirror against the wall and dropped, exhaustion swiftly taking over. Cloud’s entire body ached from exertion, almost to the point where even breathing burned his chest, and his face and hands were coated in sweat. He let out a breathless chuckle as he flicked a strand of wet white hair from his forehead, even as he was panting.

A few seconds later, Night came around the corner, raising an eyebrow at Cloud and Raven’s disheveled appearances. “I’m going to assume you two do not have the strength to carry that,” they said dryly.

“It...hurts...to hold,” Cloud managed between breaths.

“It’s a mirror. It can’t be that heavy. Though I suppose if you have weak nerd arms, it feels heavy...”

“So do...” Raven had to pause for air. “So do you.”

“...touché.” Night sighed. “Fine, fine. I have an idea where to put it. I’ll get Umber and Flint to carry it the rest of the way. Ya big babies,” they muttered to themself as they left.

Normally, Cloud would protest or make a cutting remark of his own, but right now, he was not in the mood for much other than lying on the floor.

“Why did you think this was a good idea?”

Onyx’s tone was sharp and biting as she yanked the string of garlic cloves from the calculator room wall, nose wrinkling at the strong smell. By now, pretty much everyone at the Institute save Irratino himself knew about Cloud’s ongoing efforts to prove Irratino was a vampire (reactions varied from incredulity to amusement to “oh lord you’re actually serious”). So when they’d come in to find strings of garlic hung from the wall in several rooms in the chateau, everyone immediately blamed Cloud.

Cloud hadn’t protested, because they were right. “It...seemed like a better idea at the time,” he said weakly, holding out a trash bag for Onyx to dump the garlic into. He’d hung it up overnight, in the hopes of getting some reaction out of Irratino in the morning. Unfortunately, this brilliant plan was stymied by two factors. The first was that the smell was practically overpowering, enough to make your eyes tear up, and would probably debilitate anyone regardless if they were a vampire or not. The second, and probably more important factor, was that today was Sunday and Irratino was not even at the Institute.

At least he didn’t have to clean the whole thing up himself. The others were helping. (They were not, however, going to help if Irratino noticed any trace of this experiment and asked. Cloud did not particularly want to have to explain everything he’d been doing to his boss, but he’d grudgingly conceded, mostly because they weren’t going to help clean up if he didn’t.)

“How?” Onyx demanded, dropping the string of garlic into the bag. “How could it seem like a good idea ever? He’s not even here!”

“I...” Cloud hesitated, eyes flicking to the side. “...forgot?”

Onyx groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. “You are exhausting,” she muttered.

“Irratino says that about us all the time,” Seashell chimed in from across the room, sliding the window open to air the room out. “Usually about me.” He shrugged, leaning against the windowsill. “No idea why—I mean, corpses don’t need all their teeth, I don’t see the harm in yanking a few out.”

Cloud blinked, sharing an awkward look with Onyx. “Uh...right.” Even for the many murderers on staff, Seashell was a bit unhinged. Which might’ve been why he was Irratino’s decidedly least favorite employee. (Irratino never said it, but everybody knew.)

“Have you checked his teeth?” Seashell suddenly asked, a manic glint in his eye.

“Uh...” Cloud blinked again. “No—?”

“You should!” Seashell exclaimed, darting up to Cloud’s face and causing him to yelp in surprise and jerk backwards. “Seriously, if you want to know if he’s a vampire, all you have to do is check for fangs and wha-bam—there’s your answer!” An ear-to-ear grin stretched across Seashell’s face, making him look even more manic, and Cloud took a tentative step backwards. “And if you do find fangs, tell me! I’d love to get a closer look—”

“I don’t think Irratino would let you do dental work on him,” Onyx said, grimacing at Seashell’s enthusiasm over the prospect.

“I don’t need to! Just, uh, hit him over the head and I can pull one.”

“What?!”

“He’ll be fine! Vampires only need one fang, probably!” Seashell thankfully backed up at this point, putting a finger to his chin and frowning in thought. “Actually, how does that work? What, do they...tear a hole in the neck with their teeth and drink the blood from there? Are the fangs, like, biological straws? Do they even need fangs, human teeth can break skin just fine...”

Seashell turned, muttering to himself, and Cloud decided it would be best to exit while he was distracted. Mentally apologizing to Onyx for abandoning her to Seashell’s ramblings, he slowly backed up to the door and reached for the handle—only for the door to slam open with a BANG.

“Cloud!” Raven stood in the doorway, face splotchy and goggles askew—did she run all the way here? “You gotta— you gotta see this!”

“Huh?” Cloud said, eyebrows knitting together; Seashell had stopped talking, and both he and Onyx looked as confused as Cloud felt. “Why? What is it?”

“Dead body?” Onyx guessed.

“No— not this time, but— come on!” And before Cloud could say anything, Raven grabbed his hand and took off down the hallway, racing through book-lined corridors, up a set of staircases, and through yet more corridors. It wasn’t long before Cloud felt a stitch burn in his side, and he was about to call for a break (or, more likely, collapse onto the floor) when Raven skidded to a halt and he nearly knocked into her.

“What—” His words came out a wheeze, hand on her shoulder to keep from doubling over. “What did—”

“Look!” Raven pointed to the wall, and Cloud looked.

And double-taked.

After retrieving the mirror from the attic, Night had set it up on a wall in one of the corridors. Or, more accurately, they’d directed Umber and Flint to set it up—for being two of the tiniest people in the Institute, the two were surprisingly strong. There, it hung above a cushioned armless bench, flanked by two potted plants, and for a spur-of-the-moment addition, it looked very nice.

Or, well, it had looked very nice. Because the mirror was gone. It had been removed from the wall, leaving a large empty space where it used to be.

“...uh” was all Cloud could say, staring wide-eyed at the wall.

“I asked,” Raven hurriedly explained, wringing her hands out. “I asked Night, and Umber, and Flint, but they all said they haven’t even touched the mirror since putting it up and no one else had a reason to get rid of it, so—” She gestured at the wall. “How could it have just— disappeared?”

Cloud said nothing for a while, brow furrowed and lip curled in thought—and then his eyes went wide. “I think I know.”

Because there was only one person who would have a reason to take the mirror down.

There was a SLAM as Cloud threw the door to Irratino’s office open. “What did you do with the mirror?”

Irratino paused, looking up from whatever he’d been typing on his computer. “What do you mean?”

“The mirror. The one we took out of the attic and hung up a week ago. It’s gone.” Cloud stepped forward, coming closer until they were in front of Irratino’s desk. “What did you do with it?”

Irratino was silent for a good few seconds, before his lip curled and his eyes flicked back to his work. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said lightly. “I never touched that mirror.”

“Well, who else could it have been?”

“You know that there are other people at the Institute, right?”

“None of them have any reason to take it!”

“You don’t know that. Maybe someone thought it was valuable and decided to steal it. Maybe someone accidentally broke it and got rid of the evidence.” Irratino lightly shrugged. “Could be anything.”

“Shouldn’t you be more concerned about this?” Cloud snapped, and had to stop and breathe deeply through their nose, trying to rein themself in—probably a bad idea to get snappy with the guy paying them. “If it wasn’t you,” they said, keeping their voice as steady as possible, “then shouldn’t you be looking for who did it?”

“It’s a mirror,” Irratino replied, even as the small frown on his face deepened. “It’s not that big a deal.”

“You said it was a family heirloom. Shouldn’t that be a big deal?”

Irratino didn’t say anything, gaze dropping to his lap and fingers twitching like he was trying not to fidget. “It is disappointing,” he eventually said, after a too-long pause. “But I have my priorities in order.”

“What priorities?!” Cloud exclaimed, throwing their hands in the air. “You know, you saying stuff like that really doesn’t help your case? It just makes it sound like you’re hiding something, or there’s something you aren’t telling me, because you’re being so vague I have to assume you’re lying and you know more than you—!”

“Cloud!” Irratino snapped, standing up so fast his chair spun backwards, and Cloud flinched, suddenly very aware of their height difference. Irratino blinked a few times at their reaction, then closed his eyes and took a deep breath, shoulders tensing slightly before relaxing and face settling into an impressively neutral expression. “I think,” he said, voice slow and carefully controlled, “that you should go.”

Irratino wasn’t quite using the Boss Tone, but the way he said it made it clear the conversation was over, and Cloud’s shoulders slumped as they turned to leave with a huff. They made it to the door before they paused and looked over their shoulder. “Why are you being so vague?” they asked—maybe this was pressing their luck a little, but maybe it would pay off.

Irratino had pulled his chair back to his desk and was sitting back down when he paused. His fingers twitched like he wanted to fidget again, and he brushed some of his hair behind his ear, silver star glinting. Then, his expression grew unreadable as he sat back down, once again focusing on his work. “I don’t know what you mean,” he said. “I have nothing to hide.”

Cloud was certain he was lying.

It was not a good day at the Institute.

A couple days had passed since Cloud’s attempted interrogation, and in that time, he’d questioned just about everyone—from the people whose names he knew to the people whose names he didn’t—to try to figure out what could’ve happened to the mirror. No dice—as far as everyone knew, it was there one day and gone the next. He and Night had headed back to the attic to check, but couldn’t find the mirror there, either. It was like it had just disappeared from the Institute grounds. Combined with the fact that every attempt to figure out if Irratino was a vampire had proved a resounding failure, Cloud was in a bit of a sour mood.

Everyone else was in a sour mood because the air conditioner was broken, and it was a million degrees outside, and the groundskeeper had been murdered that morning. Needless to say, everyone was a little on edge and a lot crabbier than normal.

As evidenced by right now.

“Will you cut that out?” Onyx snapped, yanking the curtains that Azure had just opened shut. The three of them had holed up in a small room that was marginally cooler than everywhere else, water bottles shoved into a nearby cooler in an effort to keep from dying of heatstroke and a bucket resting on the desk for...some reason. Cloud’s brain was too fried to ponder that.

“But the sun is shining!” Azure argued, pulling the curtains open again.

Onyx stared at her incredulously. “Azure. Azure. ‘The sun is shining’ does not begin to describe it. We are melting as I speak—my plants are crying into their leaves!”

“Shouldn’t you be tending to them?” Cloud mumbled, opening another water bottle and drinking half the contents in one go.

“I did that this morning—it was suffering, by the way, I thought I was hallucinating near the end—when is the repair person getting here?” Onyx groaned, scrubbing a hand across her face, slick with sweat. “I think we’re all going to die here if they don’t.”

“Irratino has trouble getting repair people here,” Azure chimed in, bobbing back and forth on her heels. “They keep getting lost. Or murdered.”

Might be our fault, Cloud did not say, because he was too focused on staying hydrated so as to not spontaneously combust on the spot.

There was a knock on the door. “Can we come in?” Irratino’s exhausted voice floated in through the door.

“Why, what do you need?” Onyx asked.

“Cards said one of the murder weapons was here. Didn’t say which. Or maybe they did and I didn’t notice.”

Everyone looked at the conspicuous bucket on the desk.

“That’ll do it,” Onyx muttered. “Yeah, okay, sure, you can...come...in...” Her voice died out, staring in bafflement as Cloud grabbed a few water bottles from the cooler and started pouring them into the bucket.

“Something wrong?” Irratino asked.

“...nooooo...?” Azure said uncertainly. Both she and Onyx took a few steps away from the door, Cloud lifting the bucket with a huff of effort.

“...alright, cool, coming in. If something is wrong, it probably isn’t lethal, at least...” With a soft creak, the door opened and Irratino stepped inside—and Cloud hurled the water on him with a loud SPLASH!

There was a prolonged, stunned silence, the only sound the water dripping off onto the floor. Onyx and Azure—who’d barely avoided the splash zone—were staring wide-eyed and open-mouthed. Irratino slowly reached up to rub the water out of his eyes, clothes clinging to his skin and hair flat against his skull. When his hands dropped, his lips were pressed into a thin line, eyes narrowed.

“...it was hot” was all Cloud could think to say.

“Give me that!” Irratino snapped, storming forward and snatching the bucket from Cloud’s hands. “Can’t even stay put without contaminating evidence, why do I put up with any of this...” He whipped around, sending droplets of water flying and causing his own wet hair to smack him in the face; grumbling to himself, he pushed it behind his ears, amethyst earrings swaying slightly from the movement, and stalked out of the room.

“...wow,” Azure said, blinking.

Onyx turned to Cloud, eyebrow raised, but whatever she was about to say was cut off when Logico poked his head through the doorway. “What just happened?” he asked.

“Cloud threw a bucket of water onto Irratino,” Azure supplied. “The bucket might’ve been a murder weapon? But we dunno.”

Logico blinked, staring at Cloud. “It was hot,” Cloud said again.

Logico just sighed. “Well, could’ve been a lot worse.” He entered the room, neatly sidestepping the puddle on the floor. Sunlight shone down on it from the window, doing its best to evaporate the water in record time. “He’ll apologize when he’s in a better mood—I don’t think high temperatures agree with him.”

“They agree with you,” Onyx said, blinking. “How are you not dead right now?” Which, Cloud had to admit, was a very good question, because Logico was still wearing his detective get-up even though it was a kabillion degrees outside and was somehow not only still standing but perfectly fine. Well, mostly. He did look pallid and...washed out, for lack of a better word, so maybe the heat was getting to him.

“I’m usually cold,” Logico said with a shrug. “Some kind of circulatory issue.”

Cloud sucked in a breath through his teeth, wincing in sympathy. “Ooh. Feel that.” He paused. “Well, not that exactly, but—my health’s not great. I get what you mean.”

Logico stared at Cloud a bit strangely. “Er...right.” He cleared his throat. “Anyway, would you all mind leaving? I need to search this room for evidence.” The three made mumbles of assent, Cloud grabbing the cooler and lifting it with a huff of effort, and Logico stepped aside, letting them file out of the room.

Once they were out, and had walked a bit down the corridor, Onyx looked over her shoulder to level Cloud with a deadpan stare. “Let me guess. Running water?”

Cloud nodded.

Onyx rolled her eyes, and Azure cut in with a confused, “If he can’t cross running water, then how come he can get around places with indoor plumbing?”

Cloud opened his mouth.

And then closed it, because oh yeah that was a really good point, wasn’t it.

“...oops” was all he could say.

• Burns in sunlight (big one)
• Drinks blood (also big one!)
• Doesn’t appear in mirrors
• Immortal (big one but probably untestable!)
• Turns into a bat (also untestable but it would be so cute)
• Vulnerable to silver
• Vulnerable to running water
• Vulnerable to garlic
• Vulnerable to crosses (weird amount of vulnerabilities)
• Killed by a stake to the heart no wait that would kill anyone
• Must be invited that one’s just false
• Ice cold to the touch
• FANGS! Biggest one of all

Cloud frowned at their list, letting out a soft sigh. This isn’t working. Most of the tests had failed, and they didn’t have high hopes for what was remaining. What were they missing? Was Irratino some kind of undead for which the normal stories didn’t apply? Was every story about vampires wrong, somehow?

“What’re you doing?” Umber asked, sliding into the chair next to them. They were sitting at a table in the library, a winding maze of bookshelves stretching to the ceiling surrounding the dark wood tables. Off to the side was the front desk, staffed by a librarian whose name Cloud didn’t know, going through a few papers. It was one of the quieter places in the Institute, making it a good place to think.

“Just checking my list,” Cloud replied. They lightly ran their pencil down the notebook page, frown deepening. “I don’t get it, shouldn’t something work? I’ve tried almost everything, but...”

Umber snorted. “Yeah,” she said dryly. “Wonder why.”

Cloud shot her an annoyed glance. “Thanks for the support.”

She sighed. “Look, Cloud—” Umber folded her arms “—what do you think is more likely? That every story about vampires isn’t true or doesn’t apply or whatever, or...?”

Cloud looked back down at their list, not meeting her eyes. Their eyebrows furrowed and their lip tightened, stubbornly refusing to answer for several seconds...before sighing, shoulders slumping in defeat. “Okay. Fine. I was wrong. Irratino isn’t a vampire.”

“And so you admit it.”

“But that doesn’t explain the mirror!” Cloud insisted. Their hands jerked about as they spoke. “He appeared in it, I saw him—why get rid of it? No one else could’ve done it, so—”

“Weird thing to get caught up on.”

“I know, it is weird!” They put a finger to their chin. “He has a reflection, we definitely saw that, so unless he has some other weird reaction to silver mirrors, I don’t know what he thought we would...see...”

Their voice died out, eyes going wide. They had seen something...or, rather, hadn’t seen someone. Logico, who had been right there, who should’ve been just as visible in the mirror as Irratino was—and yet, Cloud hadn’t even noticed him until he’d spoken.

“Uh...Cloud?”

Cloud didn’t respond, brain too busy spinning. Logico, who always wore that ridiculously covering detective get-up, and had steered clear of the sunlight. Logico, who’d said he’d had “circulatory issues” and was always cold. Logico, who Irratino had never worn silver earrings around—and who Irratino would have a very good reason to want to protect.

Irratino hadn’t been lying. He had nothing to hide. But his partner?

“Cloud, are you—”

“EUREKA!” Cloud exclaimed, leaping out of their chair with a grin and pumping a fist in the air.

“Shhhhh!” the librarian hissed.

Cloud blinked. “Sorry,” they whispered, sitting back down.

“So, uh,” Umber began, as Cloud flipped to a new page in their notebook and started writing, “what was that about?”

“I can prove it,” Cloud said quickly.

“Prove what?”

“Vampires!”

Umber facepalmed. “Cloud, we literally just—”

“No. You’re right. Irratino’s a normal human. But vampires are real!” Cloud shut their notebook, grinning. “And I can prove it!”

This isn’t going to work.

It was funny that that was what Cloud was thinking, when they were so close to proving the existence of vampires once and for all. When they’d headed home that day, they’d gone through their things for about an hour before finding what they were looking for: a cross necklace, made of sterling silver. It had been their grandma’s, and had gone to them when she’d died, but Cloud had never taken it out of its box. Until now.

They’d brought it to work every day, tucked safely in their pocket for the day it would be needed. And today, a week after their case-cracking realization, that day had come: the replacement groundskeeper had been murdered, Irratino had called Logico in to solve it, and once the case was solved—Secretary Celadon with hyper-allergenic oil in the observatory, for those who were curious—Logico had decided to stick around for a bit.

So while their fellow employees were in the staff room, setting up the betting pool for when the next murder would be—Onyx had won this round, breaking Night’s three-murder winning streak—Cloud had headed for the parlor, hid behind one of the chairs, and waited for Logico to show up.

And thus, the situation they were in now, where, with the finish line in sight, doubt was starting to creep in. Cloud fidgeted with the necklace in their hands, their stomach twisted into a tense knot. Was this going to work? Had they just misread all those signs? There could be perfectly logical explanations for everything, right? Maybe that wasn’t the best attitude to have in an institute dedicated to investigating the illogical, but for some reason, it had been easier to believe Irratino was a vampire with no evidence than it was to believe Logico was a vampire with evidence. Maybe it was just human nature, to deny the supernatural even when it was staring you in the face.

Or maybe Cloud was a little afraid of what they might find.

The door swung open, and Cloud’s eyes went wide. Oh boy. They swiftly ducked behind the chair as Logico and Irratino entered the room, their grip on the necklace tightening. “I mean, seriously,” Logico was saying, “don’t you find it a bit concerning how much murder goes on in this place?”

“Murder goes on everywhere,” Irratino said with an airy shrug. “But I suppose it is a bit odd, how many people have died here.” He gasped dramatically. “You don’t suppose this building is cursed, do you? Is that why the original owners were so desperate to get rid of it?”

Logico gave him a deadpan stare. “No, I think that has to do with the fact that this building was old and falling apart when you bought it.”

“That would explain why they sold it to me for cheap,” Irratino admitted.

“And I think the murders have to do with the fact that all of your employees have killed someone at least once and you still keep them on.” Logico raised an eyebrow. “Any particular reason for that?”

“Okay, one, this wasn’t any of their faults this time, two, I actually like my employees and I’d feel bad if I fired them and they couldn’t find work because they’re all murderers, and three...” Irratino let out a weary sigh. “Occult experts don’t grow on trees. I’ve checked.”

Okay, well, that was a splash of cold water.

“Besides, I’m used to the murders by now,” Irratino continued, pacing in a small circle. “You and your habit of tripping over dead bodies has inured me to this sort of thing.”

“Oh, sure, blame me,” Logico huffed. “Even though whenever you go solo, you run into just as many corpses.”

“Which only started after I met you.” A light, teasing smile crossed Irratino’s face. “Almost like it’s not a coincidence at all.”

Logico sighed, reaching up to unwind his scarf from his neck. “For the last time, Tino, I’m not cursed. It’s not—”

He pulled his scarf from his neck, and Cloud realized with a jolt this was their chance—they scrambled out from behind the chair and shot forward. Logico yelled in surprise, and Irratino whipped around, but before either of them could do anything, Cloud’s hand shot out and pressed the silver necklace against Logico’s neck.

If they were being fully honest, what they expected to happen was nothing. And then for either Logico or Irratino to ask what the heck they were doing. And then for Cloud to have to explain, not just this, but everything they’d been doing over the past few weeks. And then for everything to be extremely awkward.

What actually happened was that Cloud had a fraction of a second to feel icy skin against their knuckles before a sizzling sound hissed from where the silver met skin—and a strangled gasp escaped their mouth as Logico’s skin beneath the necklace began to blister.

Logico howled in pain, and Cloud hurriedly yanked the necklace away as he stumbled backwards, the right side of his neck blistered and bright red and shiny like he’d been burned. His hand clutched his shoulder as he gasped for breath, before smacking against his mouth—but Cloud had already seen them, seen the pointed teeth—the actual freaking fangs, holy-freaking-CRAP—in his mouth. “H-holy crap!” they squawked, frantically gesturing to him, unable to say or do anything more eloquent. “Holy crap you’re actually—!”

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!” Irratino screamed, lunging forward and tearing the necklace from Cloud’s hands, causing Cloud to shriek in surprise. He looked—and sounded—more horrified than angry, hands shaking and face pale. “Cloud, what the HELL—”

“He’s a VAMPIRE!” Cloud shrieked, hands just about flailing with how much they were moving. “He’s a— he’s actually a vampire! I don’t— I—!”

“What happened?!” A muffled shout came from the hall, along with several sets of racing footsteps, and Cloud realized it was Night, and also that everyone had definitely heard all their screaming. “What’s going—”

The door began to push open, and Irratino practically leapt across the room, slamming it shut and holding it there. “Nothing! Don’t come in!” Cloud cast a terrified glance at Logico, who’d slumped against the wall, twitching. Did I actually kill him?!

Onyx yelled from behind the door, “You’re all screaming, clearly something happ—!”

“No one come in!” Irratino’s voice had gone straight into Boss Tone, and everyone outside quieted down in an instant. He whipped to face Cloud, who shrunk back, because now Irratino looked angry. “Cloud! Office! Now!”

“But—”

“I said get in the office.”

And so, Cloud found themself squirming in the faux-leather armchair in Irratino’s office, awaiting judgment.

Irratino himself wasn’t there; as Cloud had hurried out of the parlor, he’d rushed straight to Logico, probably to check if he was okay. Meaning Cloud was alone in his office, waiting for Irratino to show up, confirm whether or not Cloud had killed someone accidentally as opposed to intentionally, and then...well, Cloud had no idea what would happen next.

They shifted uncomfortably in their chair and swallowed, their stomach tied into knots. They...sincerely hoped they weren’t going to be fired over this. There weren’t exactly many places a cryptozoologist could find work. Sure, Irratino was fairly forgiving—you had to be, to employ so many murderers—but Cloud was pretty sure that killing his partner would be beyond the limits of that forgiveness, even if it was an accident. And even if their limited skill set and also being a murderer wasn’t an issue, they liked working at the Institute.

They really didn’t want to lose that over their poorly-thought-out experiment.

The door opened behind them, and Cloud jolted, straightening in their seat. Irratino’s footsteps click-clacked against the hardwood floor as he walked up to his desk, sitting down in his chair with a heavy sigh. He didn’t look as angry as he had back in the parlor, but his gaze was still hard as he looked at Cloud, eyes narrowed into slits and mouth pressed into the thinnest of lines.

They sat in silence for a while, Cloud squirming in their seat even worse than before. The tension in the air was as thick as molasses. Why isn’t he saying anything? Am I fired? Am I WORSE than fired? What is there worse than firing?! Is Logico dead and that’s why he isn’t talking?! Irratino took a deep breath, but before he could say anything, Cloud blurted out, “Is he okay?!”

Irratino stopped. His eyes went wide for a second, before his glare softened into something more neutral. “He’ll be fine. He told me. It might scar over if he’s unlucky, but the silver didn’t touch him for too long. It would’ve been a lot worse if it had.”

Cloud released a breath they hadn’t realized they’d been holding, sagging into their chair with relief.

“But,” Irratino said, and the sharpness in his tone caused Cloud to tense up again, “you are not off the hook.” He folded his arms, eyes narrowing again. “What. Were. You. Thinking?”

Cloud’s mouth suddenly felt dry. “I-I...um...” They looked down at their lap, hand fidgeting with their wispy hair. “I...didn’t think it would work,” they mumbled.

“What?”

“I didn’t think it would work,” Cloud repeated, looking up to meet Irratino’s baffled expression. “I...okay, so, I originally thought you were a vampire.”

Irratino blinked. “Oh. Is that why...all the stuff?”

“The stuff?”

“With the water bucket and the mirror and the vase and the blinds and...” Irratino pinwheeled his hands. “I mean, you were acting weirder than normal and your normal is pretty weird.”

“...yeah,” Cloud said sheepishly. “That’s why. All the stuff. So, I mean...I realized you weren’t a vampire, but then I thought...what if Logico is? So I brought the necklace to work—”

“And you didn’t think using silver on someone you thought was a vampire could result in serious injury?” Irratino cut in, voice growing sharp again.

“I didn’t think it would work!” Cloud exclaimed, a note of desperation entering their tone. There was a brief silence, before Irratino gestured for them to continue. “I-I thought it was— impossible, y’know? I was like ‘there’s no way Logico could be a vampire, that’s just ridiculous’ and— I thought nothing would happen and I’d have to explain all the stuff I’d been doing, but—” Their voice caught in their throat, and their gaze dropped to their lap. “I’m sorry, okay? I swear, I didn’t mean to hurt him. I definitely wouldn’t have meant to kill him.”

A very long second passed. Then two. Then three. Then, Irratino sighed. “Alright. I believe you.”

“Really?!” Cloud exclaimed, head jerking up and eyes shining with hope.

“Oh, believe me, if you had intended to kill him, or actually killed him, or both, you would absolutely be fired right now. But neither of that happened, and you legitimately didn’t mean any harm for once, so...” Irratino shrugged, a light smile crossing his face. “I forgive you.” The smile dropped. “But you will have to apologize to Logico once we’re done.”

A slow smile stretched across Cloud’s face, and they could barely hold back a relieved laugh. “Yeah,” they said, sinking into their seat. “Yeah, I can do that.”

“Good.” Another pause. Cloud’s feet began to drum against the floor, fingers tapping against the armrest of the chair as their mouth curved into a tiny frown. “And I can already tell,” Irratino said with a wry smile, “that you have many questions, and I’m not going to be able to leave without answering at least some of them. So, to get a few out of the way...”

He held up a hand, counting each answer on his fingers. “Yes, I have known the whole time. Yes, the detective outfit is partially for sun protection, partially because he just likes the look. Yes, he drinks blood. No, no one here is in danger, he has that covered, and yes...” Irratino hesitated, then sighed, dropping his hand to his lap. “I moved the mirror.”

“I knew it!” Cloud cheered, pumping a fist in the air.

“Yeah, you really beat the odds there, Cloud.”

A much shorter pause followed, Cloud’s eyes flicking to Irratino’s neck. “And I know what you’re thinking here,” Irratino said. “And no, I’m not the ‘donor’, I think the doctors would become suspicious if I kept coming in for amenia. He...gets animal blood.” He grimaced. “From the butcher.”

Cloud winced, their stomach briefly twisting again.

“Yeah, I don’t like it either, but the alternatives are worse, so I learn to live with it.” Irratino leaned back in his chair and shrugged, crossing one leg over the other. “Besides, neither of us actually know how you get vampirism, and accidentally turning into a vampire isn’t on my agenda for the foreseeable future.”

“...I mean,” Cloud began, somewhat hesitantly, “if you aren’t a vampire, he’s probably going to outlive you by, like, a lot—”

“Anyway!” Irratino spoke a little too quickly, sitting up straight in his chair. “Any more questions, I can probably answer a few!”

“Uh—” Cloud blinked, a bit disoriented at the sudden shift, before they shook their head and asked, “Do you know how it happened?”

“Sort of?” Irratino shrugged again. “Logico said he doesn’t remember all the details. Just...an investigation in some back-alley joint, getting cornered, and waking up the next morning. He thinks it was one of the suspects, but...he doesn’t remember them, and none of them were from our usual crowd, so there’s no clues there.” He went silent for a moment, before his eyebrows knitted together and he looked down at his feet. “He says he doesn’t think it hurts,” he continued, voice much quieter. “Because he doesn’t remember any pain. I’m not sure I believe it.”

“Or it hurt so much his brain actively repressed it,” Cloud murmured, mostly to themself. It was an experience they were familiar with, mostly from when they were young; pain so awful they could barely move and their voice went hoarse from crying, but all they could recall was the knowledge they’d experienced it.

Irratino snorted, but there wasn’t any humor behind it. “Wouldn’t be the first time he repressed memories he didn’t like.”

They sat in silence for a while, lost in their own thoughts, before Cloud cleared their throat. “So, uh, what can vampires do, exactly?”

“Uh—” Irratino’s brow furrowed in thought. “Let me think, uh...” He held up his hand to count off on his fingers again. “Okay, so they heal a lot faster, and I think they’re harder to hurt in general...I think they can also move faster, but I don’t have confirmation on that...they don’t need to eat or drink, they can, but they don’t need to...don’t need to sleep, either...senses are better—vision, hearing, smell, taste, maybe touch but I don’t know—”

“Does that mean you wouldn’t need glasses if you were a vampire?” Cloud asked—Irratino wasn’t wearing glasses now, but the question still stood.

“Uh...maybe? But honestly, super senses kind of suck from what I’ve heard. Lights are too bright, sounds are too loud, you can’t eat or drink anything because the smell and taste is too strong...” Irratino tapped his temple, a wry smile crossing his face. “I think I’ll keep my myopia, thanks.”

“Oh.” Cloud was silent for a moment, searching for another question, before a thought struck them. “Wait, shouldn’t he have some kind of—special powers, beyond that? You know—mind reading, turning into a bat, hypnosis, anything?”

“Uh...no. No, he...he doesn’t have any of that. It’s just...improved biology, a need for blood, and a weakness to sunlight and silver.”

“...oh.” Cloud couldn’t help but feel like this was a bit of an anticlimax. “That’s...underwhelming. And disappointingly mundane.”

“Yeah, the only real differences between dating a human and dating a vampire is that I am acutely aware that whenever we go out, I’m the only one who’s actually enjoying the food, and that I can’t wear my favorite earrings around him.” Irratino tilted his head slightly, showing off the pear-shaped amethysts that hung from his ears. “These are my second favorite pair, so it works out, but still.” A sheepish smile crossed his face. “Noooot exactly the epic gothic romance I used to daydream about back in high school.”

Cloud snorted out a laugh at that, and Irratino chuckled, before clearing his throat and standing up. “Right. I think we’re done here. I’d like to check in on Logico again, and everyone else is probably worried you’ve been fired, so—”

“Can I have my necklace back?” Cloud asked. Irratino stopped, staring at them. “...please?” they added weakly. “It was my grandma’s...”

Irratino sighed, reaching into his pocket and pulling out the silver necklace. “Promise you won’t do that again,” he said, dropping it into Cloud’s outstretched hand.

“I promise,” Cloud said immediately, tucking the necklace into their own pocket.

“Alright. Before we go, one more thing.” Irratino moved from behind his desk to pace in the center of the office. “You cannot tell a soul everything you just learned today.”

“What?” Cloud stood up, eyebrows creased in confusion. “Why not? This is proof vampires exist! The Institute would love—”

“I know,” Irratino said. “But Logico would rather keep this fact about himself a secret, and I’m respecting that. So as awesome as it would be to prove the existence of a mythical creature, we can’t do that. Understood?”

Cloud hesitated, then sighed. “Got it,” they said, giving a thumbs-up.

“Good.” Irratino headed over to the door, grabbing the handle. “You can go now. Just remember, none of this conversation leaves this office.”

He pulled the handle—and the door crashed open as several people fell through and landed with a SMACK on the floor, Irratino shrieking in surprise and leaping back to keep from being knocked over. Cloud’s eyes widened, and they shot over to see seven people, lying on the floor and each other, groaning in pain.

“I told you to not crowd the door!” Umber snapped, unfortunate enough to be at the bottom of the people-pile.

“I didn’t think he was going to open it!” Seashell replied indignantly, trying to free himself from where he was squished between Night and Onyx.

“We should’ve taken turns or something,” Raven groaned.

“Guys,” Flint wheezed, also at the bottom of the pile, “I can’t breathe—”

“Uh,” said Cloud, for lack of any better reaction.

Their co-workers stopped, immediately looking at them. “Cloud!” Azure cheered, pulling herself free of the pile and rushing up to wrap them in a tight hug. “You’re still here! We thought you were gonna get fired!”

“You did?” Cloud squeaked out, their own voice wheezy from Azure’s squeezing embrace; thankfully, she noticed this and let go, stepping back. The others had managed to untangle the pile by now, and were now getting to their feet.

“Yeah...yeah,” Raven said, taking a moment to steady herself. “Umber’s idea. We listened in. We were worried for you.”

Cloud blinked, before a soft smile crossed their face. “You guys...”

“How many of you were here?” Irratino suddenly asked. There was a stunned, blank expression on his face.

Onyx shrugged. “Everyone with a name.”

“Not everyone,” Night said, rolling their eyes. “Myself, Onyx, Raven, Flint, Umber, Azure, and Seashell were all present.”

“Like I said. Everyone with a name.”

“Other employees have names, you’ve just never bothered to learn them.”

“I don’t need to learn them, they have too high a turnover rate!”

“That is—”

“How much did you hear?!” Irratino cut in—and Cloud’s eyes widened as they realized the implications.

No one said anything for several seconds. “Uh...” Flint sheepishly rubbed the back of his head. “All of it?”

An extremely long, awkward pause followed, Irratino with that same stunned expression.

“So vampires are real?” Raven asked.

Irratino just facepalmed.