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joannasteez

Jun 12

333creolelady

Dracula: Penance Ch.11

The Death Rattle Pt.1

Pairing: Dracula (Jacob Anderson) X Blk Fem OC

Warnings: Blood/ Gore, sexually suggestive themes, cursing, critiques on religion, murder, occult practices.

Disclaimer: Accompanied music for Dracula is available via Pandora App which is free. Links will be available throughout the chapter. Be sure to download the app to get the full reading experience.

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Amina Boudreaux POV

Vlad sears my steak with a glob of herb butter. I keep sneaking the homemade croutons from the salad bowl. I thought I was getting away with it until he sets me down on the counter while he cooks to keep a watchful eye on me.

“ How do you want your steak?” he asks. He's trying to hide his smirk because of my wandering foot. I’ve been rolling it up his leg and trying to pinch him with it for the past 15 minutes.

I snort, “ I like it raw” between swigs of my champagne. That one little immature joke, of all things, finally gets him to crack. “ I’m supposed to be celebrating you, and you’re making it really hard for me”, he chuckles softly.

“ I told you how we can celebrate, but you didn’t wanna hear it”, I sigh.

He throws in fresh thyme and a little more garlic. “ That’s the after party”, he jokes. “Excuse me for trying to cook my girlfriend a nice dinner”, he says as he flips the meat.

“ Alright, alright, fiiineee”, I sigh, trying to discreetly slip off the counter. A gentle hand on my knees lets me know that I am NOT free to go.

I wait patiently as he finishes the food. When he’s done, he slips me a piece of steak, and of course, it's perfectly tender and flavorful. I help him set the table, and he plates my food. Wagu, scalloped potatoes, and a salad. He fills up my champagne glass and then his own, sitting across from me.

“The food looks and smells amazing”, I say as I dig into my potatoes.

He adds homemade steak sauce to my Wagyu for me. “ Now, tell me again how she reacted”, he says.

Vlad was so ecstatic about my painting selling for 5 grand. He very well may have been more excited than I was. I could hardly believe I’d made that much money from my work, and the buyer didn’t even flinch at the price. “ This is so beautiful, I feel like I stole it for 5k”, I mimic in a tiny voice.

His face lights up with joy, and he laughs quietly to himself. He was really, truly proud of me. “ So how much longer do you think you’ll keep your job?” he asks.

I pause briefly, surprised at where this conversation is going. “ ….Well, it’s only one painting, Vlad.”

He half shrugs. “ There will be more.”

I shake my head in disbelief. “ I would have to sell at least…ten more to feel comfortable. It would be just my luck if I quit and suddenly my commissions slow.”

Vlad disagrees. “ That’s not gonna happen. Worst case scenario, I have a couple of friends always looking to buy art.”

“ I don’t know. I gotta’ think about it”, I sigh. Vlad backs off, not wanting to pressure me. I compliment him again on dinner because it’s just that good. He seems fairly flattered that I like the meal, and leans to cut my steak into smaller pieces for me.

“Tell me more about the ceremony”, I mutter casually, between bites of my salad. I pause at the taste of the lemony dressing. Even the fucking Parmesan was perfect. I probably look like a chipmunk right now. My brain references the dinner scene in white chicks, and I actively make myself slow down. If I were alone, this salad wouldn't stand a chance.

“ What do you want to know?” he says, resting his chin on his fist as he tops off my drink. He looks so good in his t-shirt and sweatpants, painfully casual but a nice difference compared to the tailored clothes he wears. He got his hair touched up, trimming the top just slightly and shaping the edges. His curls were tighter than usual, but they looked great. He looked great. It’s why I’ve been trying to fuck for the past hour. “ Amina”, he says, pulling me out of my thoughts. Jesus, maybe I’m really no better than a man.

“ Oh…”, I trail off, trying to organize my thoughts. I take a long swig of my wine. “ The reception…right. What’s the order of events? What goes down?”

He pauses for a moment. “ Well, every reception is different. Some are like parties and others are like Gala’s. Vampires have a flair for the dramatic, so some performance art will be incorporated. As for the main event, there will be a speech. After the entertainment, Luna and Sophia will dance. Sometime after that, they will begin the transformation. Sophia will drink from Luna right before the point of death and leave her there. Afterward, I will bless their union.”

I squint at him. “...Elaborate.”

There's another pause. I know the details are likely unsavory if he’s hesitating. Still, Vlad made a vow to always be honest with me, and he hasn’t broken it just yet. “ There is always a human offering. The offerings are people who’ve done irreparable harm to others. It's usually 10-20 people. Then, I guess you can say that I transform in a way? I will feed Luna my blood to honor her. The altered form I take is what is preferred for these ceremonies. I’ve always thought it quenched the audience's blood lust in some capacity”, he says. The tension in his shoulders tells me that this process will probably be anything but pretty.

“ Cool, I understand”, I quip.

His forehead wrinkles. “ Do you?”

I chuckle. “ Clearly, I don't, otherwise I wouldn’t be asking you any of this. What I DO understand is that this will be highly intense and that’s why you’re pussyfooting around your explanation because you don’t want me to get freaked out and leave you”, I ramble.

He flippantly rolls his eyes, leaning back into his seat to size up my reaction. “ It’s more than intense, Amina.”

“ Oh, I’m sure, but who and what you are are beyond your control. There’s going to come a day when I’m in Luna’s position. I have to be ready and willing to make that sacrifice”, I counter. Holding steadfast in my point of view. It was easy to push the idea out of my mind now. As for how I’ll feel on the day of the event, that’s another story entirely. I wanted to make a good impression and accepting this part of Vlad’s culture was important for us both.

Vlad goes quiet, and for a moment I think maybe I’ve said the wrong thing until he nods. “ My form will be very distressing. No harm will come to you. I can assure you that,” he warns. He leans forward slightly. “ I just need you to understand that you’re going to see me cause great harm. I’m going to drink from them, and they won’t be coming back. Not like Luna will”, he stressed.

I slow my chewing and place my fork on my plate. We look at each other for a moment, letting his words marinate. People are going to die. Thankfully for him, I just so happened to be someone who knows what that looks like. “ I hear you. I do...”, I murmur.

That seems to settle him a bit because there’s a slight drop in his shoulders. “ How about I show you?”, he suggests.

I slowly shake my head. “ Can I be honest?” I blurt. He, of course, waits patiently. “ I’m not really in the mood to be scared. I want to be surprised alongside the audience. I wanna’ finish this meal and maybe take a dip in the hot tub and watch some tv. I'm in this wayyyy too deep for the monster version of you to unravel the hundreds of years of history we have. That’s not gonna’ go away just because I see you in a different light. I trust you fully, Vlad. Don’t you understand that by now?” I ask, tilting my head at him.

He relaxes fully. I’m not entirely sure if it was a surrender, but it seemed pretty damn close. I get up and slide into his lap. “ I love you, and there’s nothing you can do about it, sorry”, I hum, pressing my lips to his cheek.

He chuckles and turn his head to peck my mouth, mirroring the same words back. “ I love you, and there’s nothing you can do about it either.”

“ I swear, all you Scorpios are the same. Always tryna’ scare somebody away”, I sigh as I return to my seat.

Thankfully, we do make it to that hot tub and crack open another bottle of wine. We even watched a few movies. It was hard to keep his attention on the Sci-fi pictures, but he surprisingly liked the romance ones. Of course, we didn’t finish the last movie I picked because one thing turned into another. I had all these different plans about what I was going to do to him. So prepared to hand him his ass like back at the hotel. His approach was softer than I expected, using his mouth against every square inch of my body far longer than any other man had the patience for.

I fail to understand people who say missionary is boring, because with Vlad, it’s something entirely different. In the end, he just wanted me close. No bells and whistles or whips this time, just him and all the sweet words he whispered to me. Every word that left our lips was a confession or a promise in some way or another. He practically murdered me when he pressed his fingers against me to finish me off for the 4th time. I’m unable to recover, falling asleep shortly after.

When I open my eyes, I peer down onto a woman’s head. She sits at a desk with her raven black hair twisted into a crown. Her wooden desk is lined with two books, one of which is open to a page that appears to show an herb.

“ Now, class. Surprise questions. Who can tell me the base for a tincture?” a woman calls in the distance. The girl below me raises her hand.

Movement to my left snaps me out of my concentration. It’s another veiled woman. Just like in that strange library a few nights ago. I stare at her hard, trying to make out her features. I squint to make out an eye color, but nothing.

A modulated and distorted voice seeps from behind the veil. “ You will be tested in your ability to camouflage yourself into another. Enter from the highest point of her head and wear her ”, she commands firmly. I blink at her, trying to process what’s happening.

“ I’d like to wake up,” I command my body, pinching myself.

Nothing.

She tilts her head as if to challenge me. “ You are on my time”, she warned.

I sneer. “ Wake up,” I command harder, pinching myself a second time.

“You can either wear that girl, or I can send you to a harder room? And trust me, it will feel like days within the few hours you sleep”, she warns.

I jump. Not because I want to, but because I don’t want to stay a second longer in space with that fucking weirdo.

Soon, I realize the mistake I've made. When I get that falling sensation in my gut, I want nothing more than to turn back. The drop is steeper than I anticipated, and then there’s nothing. Nothing at all but my thoughts in an enclosed space. Too small to breathe.

I stretch into her. I line my feet with her feet. My shoulders with her shoulders. It feels wrong. Like I’m slipping into a cold latex. It’s too compressing . This is wrong. This is wrong.

My inner thoughts flatten to a whisper. Her body tries to reject me when she begins coughing. The pull in my lungs burns. The girls in the class turn to look at her worriedly. When she stops, her will overpowers mine.

Amina Smith POV

Miss Wood scans the room carefully, holding a piece of candy in her hand. The rest of the girls and I giggled at her antics. At the end of the class, she always gave away treats. She didn’t make it easy though, one would have to work for it. “ I have two pieces of taffy for whoever gets this question right. Are you ready, girls? In our book of tall tales and mythology, one of the Roman gods grants a peasant a wish. He asks for the flower of life to escape death. What is the scientific name for this flower?”

I gasp quietly, raising my hand. I was the only one who remembered. Miss Wood was testing our memory for the Latin names. An important part of the apothecary and herbology class. Thankfully, she picks me and awaits my answer. “Rosa Aeternitas!”, I beam.

“ Clever girl”, she chuckles before throwing me the taffy. Once Miss Wood picks you, you're out. I wait patiently for the rest of the surprise questions to be over. She dismisses our class, and I gather my books and my purse from my desk and scurry out the door.

The bustle of Cambridge in the afternoon always flustered me. Naturally, people were on their way home. Usually, I’d be taking a Hansom cab deeper into the city to not exert myself, lest I end up in one of my episodes. My Dear Edmond would have a conniption if I dared to walk the entire way.

I make my trek towards the local park to meet Julia, a friend I’d made last year at a boutique. At first, I found her quite eccentric. She dressed in elaborate fashions and conducted herself in such a laissez-faire manner. However, it was hard to dislike her. When we met, I’d only just moved to the city and was desperate for friends. A woman can waste away in her marriage if she does not have a friend to chat with from time to time. At least that’s what Julia said. For a woman on her fourth marriage, I’d take her word for it.

I make my usual stop after class at the roasted potato cart. I grab one wrapped in paper and begin to peel it with my teeth. I should have been paying attention. When I round the corner, I bump into something firm and hard, which nearly knocks me off balance. A large hand wraps around my wrist and keeps me upright. “ Sorry”, I wince. My books slide across the cobblestone walkway, and the wind sends my hat flying. A strange man, standing well over 6 feet in a maroon suit and glasses, catches my hat and picks up my books.

“ My apologies, ma’am. Are you Alright? ” he says in a strange accent. I accept the books from him. When our eyes meet, the power of his gaze nearly knocks me off balance again. It startles me in that way something frightening does. Shocks me in a way that something beautiful does. I once saw a tiger at a zoo when I was a small girl. It felt like that. I avert my gaze before I can take in the rest of his face. I’m flustered and shuffling my things back into my bag.

“ No bother, I hear that I have two left feet”, I banter. I put my hat back on and fasten my bag, slinging it around my back. I inevitably have to meet his eyes again. Though I don’t want to. I do. They’re the most peculiar pair I’ve ever seen. Brown, but then a prism of other things, the longer you look. Like church windows. Something hot rushes through my chest when I study his face. His expression is twisted in pain. His hat is pressed against his chest in respect. Broad straight nose, perfectly proportioned lips, bronze complexion and a sharp jaw.

“ Never”, he murmurs. As if he could possibly know. His hands have a slight tremor. Maybe he’s poorly ? He’s handsome beyond compare. I tried not to dwell on that feeling too long. I’d already found my great love. I gather myself and shoot a look of disinterest. I wouldn’t want him to assume I’m open to conversation. He's well put together. feet. Here in London, a wealthy man of color was a rarity. I should know. I found one and married him.

I feel that familiar tickle in my chest. I reach for my handkerchief and begin to cough into it. His eyes darken with sadness as he watches me. I’m in no mood for a pity party. Clearing my throat, I sputter, “Thank you and Good day, Sir.” He’s stunned as he watches me walk away. Mouth moving but not finding the words. Maybe he’s not well in his mind. Either way, I wouldn’t stay to find out.

I find Julia on a park bench overlooking a large pond with swans and ducks. I hug her, as it has been a few weeks since I saw her. A honeymoon in Italy left her revitalized and glowing. “ Amina! Oh, how I’ve missed you!” she gushed. I chuckle, embracing her tightly. Her auburn hair is pinned perfectly. Her fur coat is tailored to perfection.

“ How was your honeymoon?” I exclaim, sitting down beside her.

She moans exasperatedly. I gawk. “ Splendid. We were on the Amalfi Coast. He was absolutely delicious. You know, I dobelieve this is the one. I know I said that about the first two, but this one is just….”, she trails off and shivers, cat-like eyes widening and squinting as she reminisces. She laughs at the astonished face I make.

I giggle. “ I’m happy to have you back. Please tell me all about it. Was the ocean beautiful?”

She shakes her head. “ No more about me! What about you? What have you been up to?!”, she grins like a Cheshire.

I nod. “ Well, I started my apothecary class. Edmond encouraged me to do it. It’s been really helpful. You know, I’ve been trying to find something to help with how poorly I’ve been feeling. Whatever the doctor prescribed hasn’t been working for me. It’s very insightful, and it’s nice to get away from the house for a few hours.”

Her cheerful expression drops a bit when I mention my health. It’s something I’ve gotten used to with people. She pauses momentarily, almost as if the knowledge had been dropped down into her. “ I hear mullein is quite beneficial for the lungs. Perhaps you could give that a try?” she suggests. I pull out my pencil and write it down in my book for later on. I could use all the help I could get with my search for “the cure”.

Her demeanor shifts back into her eccentric self, and she turns to me with an excited expression. “ Well, I’m glad you mentioned getting out of the house. Have you heard that the carnival is coming to the city? I think we should go. I’ll be able to introduce you to my gentleman friend that I was telling you about. The one who introduced me to my husband. He’s hosting a group of his friends and should like to show us an exciting evening on the town. Afterward, he’d like to have dinner with us at his new property”, she suggests.

I hesitate. “ Are you certain this will be appropriate? Should I bring Edmond?” I nudge.

She waves her hand flippantly. “ Of course not. There will be other people at the dinner, of course. Other women and men. It is simply a soirée. You’ll find that Mr. Tepes is quite fond of music. We will likely listen to his collection rather than speak. He’s a man of few words. It should be a fine evening indeed”, she urges. I reluctantly hesitate but ultimately agree.

Amina Boudreaux Pov

I blink awake in Vlad's bedroom. I hold my fingers out in front of me and count each finger out loud. A trick to see if I was still dreaming. My grandmother taught me this when I’d wake from one dream and fall into another.

I’m here. My body feels heavy. My energy is low. A cup of coffee helps me kick-start my morning. Nya is beside herself with joy. When I told her the news about Mexico, she screamed, and then she cried, which was understandable. This was practically a teenage dream for her. I fondly remember being in our late teens and figuring out the astrocartography for the places she wanted to visit. Her Venus line ran through Mexico —it was meant to be. The astrological place where she’d feel the most beautiful, romantic, and creative. It wasn’t hard to understand why she was drawn to it.

Her first time on a private jet was like taking a kid to a zoo. She ran her fingers along buttons and stitches. Our pilot introduced himself, and she flirted with him for shits and giggles. We took a celebratory shot before takeoff. I was under the assumption that Nya would be her usual high-energy self, but she dozed off an hour in. I kept counting my fingers in my head, discreetly pushing my fingers down one by one. Vlad quietly worked on his computer, but he caught me counting. I can see the question forming on his face, but he doesn’t say a thing. I roll my shoulders and close my eyes, trying to follow suit with Nya.

A quick nap serves me some good. I eventually tune my thoughts out and focus on Nya's experience. I’m forehand deep in a box of chicken biscuit crackers. Vlad is working in a quiet room in the back of the cabin. I notice Nya pull out one of her carry-ons, and it takes a minute for it to register. I see the colorful packaging, and then it clicks. Edibles. I gawk at her audacity.

“ I’m telling”, I blurt. She dives for me, slapping her hand over my mouth. I can taste the cheese dust on them. I lick her hand, and she moves it from my lips like she touched fire.

“You're a fuckin' loser if you tell”, she warns.

I roll my eyes. “ You’re a nurse. What if they drug test you?!” I snort.

Nya sighs with exaggeration. “ We finished our testing at the top of the year already. I don’t smoke or consume this stuff regularly, so it will clear out of my system quicker than an avid user. Any more remarks, you little prude?” she warns.

I start laughing uncontrollably. “ Don’t let them catch yo’ black ass, I’m not getting you outta’ jail”, I cackle.

I see her cut her eyes at me before she closes her bag and puts it back into the overhead cubby. “ You must not want none then”, she sings.

My laughter is cut short. “ I ain’t say all that”, I excuse.

She smirks at me. “ Whatchu’ sayin’ then?”

“ We aren’t 19 anymore, is what I’m saying”, I excuse.

She shrugs. “ That may be true, but I’m getting high on the beach, and nobody is stopping me”, she plops back down in her seat dramatically.

“ Policia! Policia!”, I yell playfully. Nya jumps on me, hand on my mouth, trying to stifle my yells. “ Poliiimmmhm!”, I screech behind my hand.

I can hear Vlad shuffle from his cabin and walk around the corner to check on us. Nya’s eyes widen when she sees him like she got in trouble. I laugh even harder. The puzzled look on his face makes me feel bad for his confusion because I realize he's been sleeping. “ Sorry.." I pout at his face.

Nya scrambles off me. “ Sorry, Slenderman! We didn’t mean to wake you. We’ll keep it down”, Nya pleads. Vlad shakes his head at us and leaves. I throw a pillow at her head, which sends us both I nto an air boxing match.

Los Cabos, Mexico, is on southern tip of the Baja California peninsula. Nothing but cliffs and beaches and a slew of resorts. It's absolutely stunning. When our jet landed, I marveled at how blue the water was. It's so bright it’s nearly neon. Nya squeezes my hand when our pilot announces our arrival on the overhead speakers.

Las Ventanas al Paraíso, A Rosewood Resort is all I see in big letters when we arrive. We’d come to find that this luxury resort was practically everything we dreamed of along the Sea of Cortez.

Our villa was disconnected from the hotel. The concierge called it the “Ty Warner mansion,” which featured two ocean-view master suites with their own bathrooms, a 328-foot infinity pool, an oceanfront terrace, a fire pit, a private garden, a private theatre room, a gym, a bar, and full staff service. I did a quick Google search as our luggage was unloaded into our room. 200k for a 4-night stay. As for Vlad? Free of charge. I found a handwritten note from the resort's owner, with a bottle of champagne, on the dining room table. Apparently, it was a Thankyou for his investments and support over the years. All vampire-related, I’m sure. Speaking of vampires, this place was crawling with them. Once you spot one, it’s hard to stop.

Everything is so blue from the amount of light the windows let in. I feel like I’m in a 2000’s sandals resort commercial. Nya takes a walk around the villa with a dirty Shirley in her hand, rubbing her fingers across the indigenous wooden sculptures in each room. The bathrooms are always my favorite part. You could see the pool from the roof.

Eventually, we both showered, changing into our bathing suits while Vlad ordered room service. We eat outside on the terrace, sun beaming down on us as we sip margaritas as big as our heads. I’m already planning what pictures to take with my camera at sunset.

When Vlad joins us again, I can already tell he’s about to give us the rundown. “ Enjoying yourselves?” he says as he slides next to me.

“ Best. Day. Ever”, Nya sighs, clearly content with the meal we both ate. We struggle to finish our drinks.

Vlad nods. “ You guys know we’ll be here for four nights. Pretty soon, security will be right outside the entrance. If you need to travel off Ty Warner, then you must have security with you”, he explains. A knock on the door cuts his speech short. Vlad heads for the door and opens it.

In walks this ruggishly handsome, greying man who stood at about 6ft tall. He’s in a black hat, jeans, and a black shirt that reads 'security'. His brown hair is pushed back, short and curly, hanging behind his ear under his cap. He’s got a gun on his hip too, which I found strange. His presence smacks me in the face. I feel a chill when our eyes meet and something tells me he’s not human.

Eventually he’s eyes roll to Nya. Vlad is now behind me, hand resting gently on my waist. And I can’t help but notice that it’s a polite but subtle way to signal who’s who. A quiet “this one is with me”. I’m sure the guard didn’t need to question who was who when he saw Nya. I can see his pupils dilate as she walks towards him. She stunned in a too small sunset colored bikini, showing off pretty much every dip and curve of her body, except the cover-up wrapped around her hips to cover her butt. He takes a quick eyefull of her body and recovers quickly, but I know that look. He’s attracted to her and for good reason. I’ve told her many times she should try her hand at modeling, but she chose the stethoscope instead. I can’t entirely blame her.

I know the sparkle in her eye. She’s up to something already. She begins to circle him like he’s prey, which is quite comical considering he towers over her, even with her above-average height. She sizes him up before standing in front of him. His piercing eyes follow her, not breaking eye contact once. “ Who are you supposed to be?” she teases.

The security guard clears his throat, “Alex, ma’am. Alex O’Neil. Head of security operations.”

“Nya…”, she drawls boredly. No handshake. No welcoming smile, just a hand on her hip and a suspicious stare.

“ Hi Alex, I’m Amina”, I wave to him. He nods in my direction but fails to meet my eyes because he’s still staring at her. And it takes everything in me not to laugh because he has no idea he might as well be staring down a shark. When Nya didn’t like somebody, it was always quite funny to me because she liked everybody. And everybody liked her. It was just the type of person she was.

She folds her arms defensively. “ You won’t be a problem, will you, Alex? I’d hate for you to put a damper on my vacation”, she warns.

Alex chuckles and shakes his head. “ No ma’am. It’ll be like I’m not even there, I assure you”, he says. I can hear the southern drawl in his voice. It’s a little too sharp to be Louisianaian. Maybe the Carolinas? Texas? Georgia?

“Is that so?” she hums. A nasty, playful edge to her words. She stands straighter now. Reeking of a quiet confidence.

“ My company prides itself on a more hands-off approach to security. I’ll stay behind to give you ladies enough space to feel comfortable. Trailing just out of sight. I intervene only when absolutely necessary while ensuring your safety and evaluating and eliminating perceived threats ”, he explains.

She cocks her head to the side smartly, as if to challenge him. “You think you’ll be able to keep your distance at a bar or a club and do your job? How would you be able to hear if something went down and you're ten seats away? Seems pointless.”

A slow smirk spread across his face. He’s enjoying this, and I nearly have to press my lips together to hold in my laugh. She doesn’t find anything funny, of course. “ Well, I have excellent hearing. It boarders on the supernatural, some might say. Don't worry”, he confirms. She doesn’t look convinced.

I quietly clear my throat and turn to Vlad, whispering quietly to him. “Is he a…?”

He gently shakes his head. “No.”

“Human?”, I counter.

Vlad shakes his head once more. “Werewolf”, he mouths to me. I gasp quietly, and I see Alex watching me. He offers me a stern but somehow reassuring look. As if to say that I can trust him? As Nya and Alex chat, I turn to Vlad quietly.

“Why?” I ask.

Vlad shrugs and whispers, “They’re masters of security, remote viewing, safety, and combat. Their ability to assess and detect danger borders on psychic. They’re the muscle of our world with a natural inclination to be protective of humankind. They will keep you safe, and they get along with humans far better than my kind do.”

I smile. “Well, I think we get along pretty well”, I flirt. A small smile graces his face, and I lean in to peck him on the cheek.

Vlad interjects Nya’s interrogation so that he and Alex can talk about the itinerary . She joins me on the couch, staring at Alex every few minutes. Alex’s gaze finds hers each and every time. “He’s really gonna let this Sons of Anarchy lookin' muthafucka' tail us the whole damn time”, she hisses.

I stifle my laugh. “ Nya, be nice.”

She quietly pouts until he leaves. Eventually, I pull her out of her sulking with her playlist, hooking it up to the Bluetooth speaker in the villa. Vlad is a great sport, retiring early so we can dance, drink, and be obnoxious. He knew how special this trip was for Nya, and I appreciated that he gave us our privacy.

I have a little bit more to drink than I probably should. We were tipsy, walking down to the beach from the villa steps. The sunset was the most beautiful one I’d seen, maybe in my entire life. Nya makes a joke about playing mermaids, and I accept the offer. That’s how we end up collecting seashells on the bank in plastic bags. At night, the waves swell so large that we have to make our way back towards the villa to get out of its path. Butler service starts a bonfire for us, and we watch TV outside until we fall asleep.

I unfortunately don’t remember much else from our night. I barely remember my back touching the couch, or even if I had dinner. That familiar falling sensation was back when I closed my eyes. This wasn’t the spins. This was dreadful. I’m pulled back into a body that doesn’t want me in it.

Amina Smith POV

Absinthe and cigar-scented nights seemed to be a regular occurrence for Julia's strange gentleman friend. Mr. Tepes has every vice a man or woman could desire. He was simply a supplier and a man of excess. If one wanted opium, Mr. Tepes could provide it. If one needed cannabis, he gave it freely. All the liquor one could hope for. A gaggle of beautiful women and men—pick your preference. Whatever the wish…he would grant it. His very presence brings out a vile hedonism in the room. People over ate, over drank, over-talked, and drowned their senses rather than gently indulging them. Something about that made me feel sick. As if it were some bribe. In a way, it kept everybody around him subdued and unable to question his curious nature. Mr.Tepes does not eat, rarely speaks, and wears glasses indoors as if lamp lights offend him. This posse he keeps around cannot look him in the eye. It brings me great offense.

I think back to the circus just hours before our current dinner. Imagine my shock when I realized that I had already met Julia’s Gentleman friend on the corner of the street. Without a doubt, I can say that this was the most peculiar evening of my life. Not even the animals could resist Mr. Tepes's presence. The wolves trailed him behind him in their cages as if they wished to stroll beside him. The birds chirped with unrest. The dancing mice ran around their enclosures in complete disarray. The owls hoot and squawk, chests swelling with fright. The foxes chirp a strange cry. It was quite disturbing to me, though the crowds enjoyed it very much. To them, it would seem that it was just a lively night for the animals. A luck of the draw. But I knew. I knew that everything in Mr. Tepes' path unraveled and malfunctioned at his feet. Though I couldn’t be sure why.

Mr. Tepes cleared a path ahead of us, strolling casually with his hands behind his back. The crowd parts in his favor as Julia and I follow, arms interlinked. There was a strange chill to the air tonight. We bundled ourselves the best we could in our coats. The animals' unrest had reached a fever pitch. They were screaming now. Mr. Tepes calmly drawls, almost as if the entire ordeal was ordinary to him. “Listen to them. The children of the night. What music they make”, he sighs in a quiet tone.

I push my food around my plate in deep thought. I study his profile while a gentleman has his attention. There is an unnatural shine to him. A strange and timed perfection to his posture, his features, the way he breathes unevenly as if to remind himself. With the grace of a swan in a skin suit. What if he were a demon? Did I even believe in such a thing? To my dismay, he catches me staring with a swift snap of his head. As if the word itself echoed into his mind the minute it materialized in my own. I can hardly hide my disgust. I look away, then down, back down at my roast.

“ Ms. Smith…?” Mr.Tepes calls for my attention.

I look up shyly. “ Mrs. Jones”, I clear my throat nervously. “It’s Mrs.Jones now, sir”, I quip.

A small smirk graces his lips. “ My apologies. Mrs…Jones. How are you enjoying the roast?” he asks me.

“ It’s delicious, "I answered shortly.

A brunette woman with strange-colored eyes sat across from me, her bubbly exterior bordering on frightening. She lifts one of the trays. “Treacle tart?” she asks.

I smile politely. “ I had one earlier. Very tasty. Thank you.”

She nods and sets the tray back down. She was another who drank but did not eat. Mr. Tepes slowly stands from his seat and walks over to the window to open the curtain, revealing a large view of Cambridge. His guests gasp with exaggeration. I can concede that Mr.Tepes has one of the largest and most extravagant apartments in all of London. I will say, however, that even with all these beautiful wonders surrounding him, he seems rather lonely. A wife and a child would surely solve his woes. I wonder why he hasn’t gone down that route.

We listen to more of the records with Mr.Tepes while his dinner guests boast about their adventures around the world. Julia knew how to work a room with her stories in France and the Far East. Even I couldn’t deny myself the entertainment of watching her speak. Mr.Tepes, however, no matter how formal, had a wandering eye. One that would land on me when he felt I was not looking. I didn’t understand this push-and-pull. It was clear he wanted to speak with me. Why? I did not know, and as the night rolled on, I realized I did not care to know. Because I dislike Mr.Tepes most ardently. His incessant need to seem mysterious was a bothersome gimmick. One, I grew tired of when the clock struck 11.

Julia decided to stay longer, which meant my walk around the corner to catch my ride would be quiet. Perhaps it was for the best, considering that I was ready to snuggle into bed with Edmond, enjoy a cup of tea, and drift off to sleep. I don’t make my exit grand. In fact, I don’t announce it at all. I sneak out during one of the performances of the rented ballet dancers in the living room.

It's meant to be a short and brisk walk. Nothing that my body can't handle. London is wet and cold tonight, as expected. My ride is just a block away once I turn the corner. I can hear thunder in the distance. It's a good thing that home is somewhat close to the fair.

My shoes click along the cobblestone as I pull my coat tighter around my neck. Londoners were lively tonight, and the party was clearly only just starting. Drunkards pass me with warble hellos. I keep my head down and track the final minutes before I reach my destination, and then I feel something pull my arm back. I react with fists, slamming against a heavy chest.

“What's the rush there, love?” a drunkard slurs, pulls me into his grasp.

“ Get away from me!!”, I seethe, leaning in to bite him on the arm. He yowls in pain and releases me with a shove. I stumble on my bum and fall backward, padding my fall with my hands. The drunkard falls back, too, drunkenly falling on his bum and flailing on his back like a bug. His hands are bleeding from scraping the ground. He raises them up to his eye level and drunkenly wheezes out a laugh when he sees the blood trickle down his forearms. I make a slow rise to stand as the man suddenly looks to his left. His eyes widen into saucers as he stares into the dark alleyway.

His face contorts into terror as he begins to crawl l away from something. “ No! No, please”, he stutters. I can barely see anything, but something closes in on him. One second, he’s a couple of feet in front of me, and then he’s gone, pulled by both legs into the alley. And then he’s shouting. Shouting and pleading. My heart is beating so fast that I have to put my hand over my face to quiet down. I don’t know what to do. Do I call for help? He may have been a drunken fool, but he deserved better than to be mauled alive. My body creeps forward. I won’t be of much help, but I looked. So maybe, if his family asks how it happened, I can tell them what ate him. It’s the right thing to do. Surely?

I creep around the corner to take a peek. I expect a fox or Cayote. Perhaps a rabid dog? Maybe even one of the animals from the circus. But no. Nothing like that at all. It’s a person. Or maybe it used to be. Standing at 7 feet tall, the tall humanoid crouched over the now dead drunkard, pulling away heaps of flesh from his neck as if it were biting into a melon. The poor victim's fingers twitch despite him being long gone, like a dead animal after a kill. I freeze in terror. It’s bulky and human-like, with sharp, pointed ears, razor-sharp teeth, and reflective eyes. I notice the too-tight clothing on its form. Shades, tall hat, crocodile gentleman dress shoes, imported suit. Just like Mr.Tepes….

The demon's head slowly turns towards me, mouth covered in flesh and blood. It slings the drunkard away from it like trash, letting his deceased form slide down the wall. I begin to carefully back away. Its hands are up in a careful surrender as if to subdue me. “ Amina!”, it rasps. Dear god. Dear god. Oh god. I grab the cross on my necklace and begin to pray.

Amina Boudreaux POV

I can feel someone gently nudging me. I jump when I see Vlad, and actively recoil. I’m so frightened I can’t even manage a sound. He flinches away. His brows are drawn back in confusion, but also in slight hurt. And that look alone grounds me back into reality.

Nya lets out a breath of relief. “We’ve been trying to wake you up for 10 minutes! I was about to call an ambulance, girl!” she exasperated.

I slowly rise from my seat, peeling my body away from the couch like a Post-it note. The evidence from last night is sitting on the coffee table. Good wine. And a few shots. I guess I stopped right before my guts could churn, but I definitely had a headache.

Vlad is already handing me a bottle of an electrolyte mix and a delicious breakfast bowl decorated with flowers, exotic plants, and fruits. I mumble in appreciation and take it from him. He looks a little worried but he doesn’t express that in front of Nya.

“I’m okay, promise,” I kiss his temple. I finish breakfast, narrowly avoiding an interrogation from him.

We started the day with a shopping spree on Vlad’s card. As it turns out, Alex was right about us barely noticing him. Once we left our escort car, we lost track of him almost immediately. I was happy that I waited until Nya was with me to do something frivolous. I might not have been able to do it alone without feeling guilty about it. I watch her try on leather Prada gloves for the winter, knowing damn well New Orleans is rarely cold enough for that kind of thing. She can’t choose between red and black, so chooses both.

Designer Resort wear was my weakness. I couldn’t stop buying those loose-fitting dresses that hugged at the hip and exposed the back. But my favorite part of high-end shopping was the champagne flutes while somebody else picked my shoes for me. The red carpet rolls out when an associate knows you’ll spend the money.

At lunch we find ourselves sitting on a cliffside restaurant overlooking the vibrant Pacific Ocean. We eat the fancy head-on fish and pluck ice-cold shrimp from the cocktail cups. In between beats of silence, all we could do was stare out into the water in awe. As little girls, we always pretended that we were on vacation and now ….here we are.

“I feel like I’m in a dream…”, Nya sighs, leaning back into her seat.

“ It’s beautiful right? ”, I smile.

“Can you believe people live like this all the time? ” she asks with an incredulous expression.

I nod. “ It took me a while to wrap my head around it. Vlad isn’t particularly a minimalist.”

She scoffs. “ Ya’ think!”

“ What do you wanna’ get into tonight?” I waved my hand at the waiter, who was thankfully already in our vicinity.

“ I definitely wanna’ do the club just to say that we did it. But more than anything, I wanna keep exploring. I mean, there’s so much we haven’t done. I saw a couple parasailing…”, she suggests.

I shake my head like a rabid dog. “ Hell fuckin’ no. Get Alex to do it. You’re a little daredevil”.

“ You’re such a baby”, she whined.

“ If you're hungry for some ocean action, why don’t we go on a dolphin tour?” I suggest.

Nya rolls her eyes playfully. “ Alright. Got any Dramamine?”

I greet the waiter and place the card on the checkbook with the cash tip. She collects it and leaves. “ I’m sure it’s stocked in the escort car. Vlad put just about everything in there. I remember one night I found a fresh pack of organic tampons in there. Dude is ready for anything”, I laughed.

Nya smiled. Her tone turned inquisitive. “ Ya’ know…he really trusts you to be giving you his card this early. I mean, no complaints from me, but rich guys are usually a lot more careful, right? What voodoo are you workin'?!”, she giggles.

I grin fondly. “We trust each other. He’s proven himself to me quite a bit.”

“ You wanna head back to the villa for a bit after the tour? I think I wanna’ nap before—-there he is”, Nya hisses, squinting her eyes.

I can see Alex in the distance, mid-call about 50-60 feet away. He waves over at both of us, and Nya rolls her eyes with irritation. Clearly, he saw her annoyance because he playfully inches his finger at her, and it gets her even more upset. “ Why don’t you like this man? You just met him. Vlad vetted him, he’s cool”, I laugh.

Nya crosses her arm and whips her head in my direction, stopping in her pursuit of the car. “ I need to get laid tonight, I really don’t need 'Mr. Foo Fighters' up my ass and in my business the whole evening.”

Alex is leaning up against the car, aimlessly chewing his gum, smirking at Nya. He opened the door so we could slide in. I nestle into my seat. Nya stares him down, eyes scanning down his features. “ I’m actually more of a Deftones guy”, he chuckles raspily at her pissed expression. Her eyes widen in fear as she slides in next to me, wondering how on earth he heard her from that far. Before he shuts the door, he mutters, “Super hearing…remember?” As he slams it closed.

The Dolphin tour was the perfect way to end the day. Imagine my shock when I realized how big they are up close. Back at the villa, I pick out a skimpy outfit for the night club before curling and rolling my hair in preparation for our post-dinner nap. Vlad had been gone most of the day and still hadn’t come back.

When it’s time to leave again, around 11pm, we stand at the door, double-checking our bags for the essentials. I add another coat of lip gloss to my lips. I’m in huge barrel curls, a mint-colored spaghetti-strap mini dress, and heels to match. Nya wore a burnt orange cowl-neck mini dress that showed off her perfect legs and complemented her skin tone. Her thick, coily hair was pinned up into a large pineapple. I helped with her makeup and accessories since I brought way more than I should have. I chose silver, and she chose gold.

Alex nearly inhales his gum when he sees her walk out of the hotel room, causing him to cough on and off for about ten minutes. It takes everything in me not to start laughing.

A club carved into the edge of a cliff had wait lines around the corner. One mention of Vlad's name got us on the list. It was gorgeous on the outside, with white stone, glass railings, and a hot-pink dance floor. Waves crashed somewhere beneath the thump of the music, the rhythm swallowed by reggaeton and flashing lights. A line of fire pits flickered along the perimeter, and the wind fanning the flames sent a thin mist of ocean water into the air. Nya stopped just past the entrance, taking it in with a slow grin.

“ Alex, can you help me up the stairs?” She turned to him as he trailed behind us. I shake my head quietly. Her tone was just a little too sweet to be entirely innocent. Alex holds out his large hand, and she thwacks her purse into it. He raises a brow at her and then tosses the handle of the bag into his other hand before offering his palm to her once more. She delicately takes it as he leads her up the steep stone steps. I click behind them, watching as the lights engulf their backs and then me. The music is so loud I can feel it in my chest.

After we ditched our purses, we headed straight for the bar. Its soft gold glow felt like a beacon. An invitation to get fucked up. We start off with two shots first. Then Nya ordered a tall, icy margarita rimmed with chili salt, mango, and lime. I go for a paloma with grapefruit fizzing under a clean pour of tequila, and a sprig of rosemary that I leave on the counter before we make a toast. “To bad decisions,” Nya said.

I add a swift, “To safe ones that feel bad”, before we clink glasses.

After a bit of liquid courage, the dance floor pulled us in like a high tide. Bodies moved close, music threading through everything like our hips, shoulders. Nya was already gone in it, her rhythm easy and magnetic. It didn’t take long before the attention followed. The music and the drinks were so good tonight that I couldn’t help but dance.

I roll my hips to Masego as we dance together. I could feel the hot air rising in the club, as the humidity from the sea air seeped onto the dance floor. A thin film of sweat coats my arms and legs, as bodies close in from all sides. I couldn’t remember the last time that everybody danced at a nightclub. It’s never been my reality before now. The movies with the dance battles were clearly all lying unless the fear of being recorded killed the dancing spirits in club participants.

Every song the DJ played kept getting better and better. Beyonce, Masego, house mixes, dancehall, reggaeton. Nya leaned in towards me. “That DJ is fine as fuck. He’d been staring for the past hour!” Nya shouted. I looked over and, lo and behold, he was. And he was exactly Nya’s type. Tall, muscular, long hair (locs), facial hair, and nice clothes. He was already smiling at her, and she was smiling at him. “ Imma’ request a song. I’ll be right back”, she slinks over to DJbooth. I head back to the bar and order another drink.

I look through the drink menu, and I feel a presence behind me, which causes me to turn my head. An ambiguous-looking guy with shoulder-length hair and a muscular build sits next to me. “ Hi, I’m Enez. I saw you from across the bar. Can I buy you a drink?” he asks politely with a soft smile. He didn’t seem all that threatening, but that didn’t mean anything. From what I could tell, he was human.

I smile back politely. “ Hi, I already paid for my drink.”

He tilts his head. “ Water, maybe? It’s pretty hot in here. Even I’m sweating a bit ”, he adds in a polite tone.

I chuckle. “It is, but I’m good. I’ve got water in the car. Thanks though”, I urge.

He nods and turns to the bar to order a shot. The waitress hands me a tequila sunrise, and I sip a bit of it before eating the cherry and placing the stem on the counter. I swirl my straw into the ice and sip it slowly, trying to look as disinterested as possible. I can feel his stare on the side of my face.

Suddenly, A fog wafts over me so heavily that I have to blink to clear it. Why do I feel so drunk all of a sudden? “ Look at me”, Enez quietly whispers. My eyes meet his, and I feel the colors in the room begin to swirl and run together like paint on a canvas. His eyes are pulsing with a warmth that pulls me in like a vortex.

“ You are sooo….gorgeous”, I slur.

There’s a disturbance. I’m jolted back into sobriety. I push my drink away standing up with a stumble, and bumping into a warm body. Alex stables me with his hand to keep me from falling. His chest is puffed and defensive, and for the first time, I see that almost crazed wolfish quality that he has. “ Do you have any fucking idea who you're fucking with right now? Do you know who she is, son?” Alex reprimands Enez in an almost authoritative tone. And considering he was clearly his senior, it was even more embarrassing. Enez stands defensively, eyes morphing to slits, and for a second, his eyes turn completely black, and it startles me. It startles me so much that I grab the back of Alex’s shirt.

Alex scoffs at his attempt to scare him. “ That’s Dracula’s bride. Wait until I tell him the shit you tried to pull. Call your buddies off the other girl, too, or I will make a scene. Do it. Now,” Alex commands. His southern drawl was thinning with each word.

Enez’s facade crumbles into fear. “ Listen, man… I didn’t know, dude,” he pleads. He then turns and whistles, which signals the Dj’s attention. The DJ stops to look at our group. I see Nya standing next to him at the booth, wearing his headphones. She waves excitedly to me, and I frown as I trail behind Alex onto the dance floor.

“ What was that?” I shout over the music, holding onto the back of his shirt so that I don’t get lost.

“ Incubus. Nasty fucking creatures. Stay away. This place is crawling with them. He was trying to siphon your attention and your money. In the worst-case scenario, he would have tried to steal your essence. Your beauty--everything”, Alex shouts back, stopping just at the bottom of the DJ booth. The Dj holds his hands up as if to surrender and whispers something into Nya’s ear. She removes her headphones and joins us on the dance floor. When she comes closer into view, I can see her frowning.

“ What the fuck?”, she snaps at Alex. I go to try and a block Alex from her incoming fury, speaking before he had time to explain.

“ They’re pervs”, I mutter. “ Trust me. Some guy at the bar was making a pass, and the DJ was in on it. Let’s go to another club”, I insist.

She puts her hand on her hip and sighs. “ Fine. I’ll take your word for it, but NOT his”, she says before cutting her eyes at him and walking towards the exit with my hand in her own.

We do eventually find another club, smaller, more exclusive. The drinks were admittedly better here, and it was right on the beach. I went heavier on the tequila than I should have. I could feel the introvert leaving my body with each sip. Nya is officially tipsy and barreling towards drunk. The dancing wasn’t helping. The night was starting to take on a strange, fuzzy quality. My memory was working less and less, until each moment felt more special than it should have. Nya and I are dancing without a care in the center of dance floor. A man attempts to get her attention.

He leans in, saying something neither of us could fully hear.

Nya tilted her head. “What?” He tried again, louder.

She laughed, not unkind, but not interested either, and turned back to me, grabbing my hands, spinning me into the beat." Stay with me,” she said.

“I’m not going nowhere,” I replied, grinning with all my teeth. Whatever they put in the drinks here made me feel like I could lift a car.

Our dance was loose, in sync without trying. Years of knowing each other show in small things. How we mirrored, how we made space, how she knew I was getting winded before I did.

Another drink appeared. Another break. Then repeat.

Somewhere beyond all the moody lighting, Alex blended into the walls like an enigma of sorts. I couldn’t spot him. Couldn’t find him. And maybe for the first time in years, neither one of us cared about getting hammered. There’s no designated driver between the two of us so why not?

Another round of shots and I felt like I could fly. We leave the club and walk back up the cobblestone steps to the main boardwalk. Everything’s funny. Nothing is serious. We dance to something I can’t remember. Nya ends up on a table somehow, and I fall into a fit of laughter that nearly takes my breath away. We run into a group of girls who buy us drinks, and we swap numbers, the liquor adding an extra layer of friendliness that we didn’t need.

Time slipped.

The ocean air was sobering enough to keep me upright. Men came and went—some bold, some polite, some instantly forgettable. Nya entertained it, flirted when she felt like it, dismissed it when she didn’t. I stayed close, amused, occasionally stepping in with a look that said enough before words were needed. We bar hop and don't pay for a single thing--not even fries.

Another drink.

This one was stronger. As soon as it hit my stomach, I just knew I fucked up. That was the last drink. Was every person we passed staring? Was it just my imagination? I felt the brush of a woman’s arm against mine as we passed a crowd. A wave of irritation descends over me, and I react before thinking. “ Jesus fucking Christ. Do people say excuse me anymore?” I scoff.

“ That girl wasn't paying attention, Mimi,” Nya slurred. I whip my head around to look back at her and I see those eyes. Lined with black. Sharp black holes pin me in place.

Amina Medina.

I dart for the trashcan to empty up the last 4 hours. “ Shit”, Nya sneers as she holds my hair. I can hear the thump of Alex’s boots in the distance.

“You're done” is the last thing I hear him mutter before my vision goes black.

My head is pounding when I wake up. A breeze of ocean mist licks my skin, and I crack my eyes open. It’s still dark. I’m on the patio, and Vlad is across from me with his laptop in his lap. There’s a tiny lined trashcan below me and a bottle of water. I sit up, holding my head. The pain is sharp and ice-picky. In a blink, he’s at my side, nursing me with water.

I grab the bottle and sit up straight, fully accepting whatever my stomach does with the fluid I add back into my body. Thankfully, my stomach seems to have settled, but my head is still pounding.

“ I wasn’t aware you were such a party girl”, he chuckles as he joins me on the opposite chair.

I shake my head in utter regret. “ Nya brings it out of me. I figured, why not for old time's sake, and clearly that was a mistake”, I chuckled painfully.

“ Let’s get you washed up and in bed”, he soothes, picking me up bridal style. A long shower helped take the edge off the headache. By the time I got to my room, the sun was starting to come up. I knew it would be a late start to the day.

Amina Smith Pov

My tears spill into my Lapsang. Edmond rests his hand on my knee in support as I begin to quiver in thought. "Razor-sharp teeth. Pale skin. L-Like he could be made of stone. Glowing eyes. Like a cat's eyes. And the wings. I couldn't tell how long they were, but they were as wide as his body. M-Maybe wider", I stuttered.

Doctor Van Helsing smokes from his pipe and offers me a sympathetic look. "I see", he ponders. His eyes trail around the room before they land on something placed far behind me. He slowly stands and retrieves it. It's a brown journal. He flips through the pages before he lands on a photo. He holds the book up. "Like this?" he says, flashing the page in my direction. I scream in fright, slapping my hand over my mouth, feeling the tears gather in the inner corners of my eye.

Doctor Van Helsing takes my cup and places it on the coffee table. Emond grabs both of my hands, trying to soothe me quietly. "I apologize for the scare, Mrs.Jones. I just had to be sure. This creature you've stumbled across is very old. Very, very old. A calculated beast. There is a Latin word called sanguisuga, which means blood sucker or leech. Romanian folklore tells the story of a man named Dracula, the father of all vampiric life. The name of this creature comes from the Greek word Pi which means "to drink". He was the King of Wallachia in the 1400s. He was cursed by god for his cruelty and brutality. In turn, he was forced to live the rest of his days entirely immortal. This demon feasts on the blood of human beings to stay alive. It is very powerful indeed. It can only be killed through fire or decapitation. Wood can badly injure, but the correct blow can be fatal. It's a nasty creature. He has spread this curse to other people through his bite. I've encountered quite a few cases of vampirism. It cannot be undone. Consider yourself lucky to have gotten away, my dear", he warns.

I can feel the panic bubbling up inside my stomach. To think that I was so close to death. "I-I do not feel that I have escaped him. I-I feel that I am being watched. Especially at night, doctor", I plead.

Van Helsing does not look surprised. "Oh yes, my dear. You are being watched indeed. But never the matter. We will not let him take you. I specialize in this type of beast. They seem to have taken a liking to England recently. Every few years, there is a trend in a new country. There were whispers in the coastal African cities and Eastern Europe. In America, the natives were calling it all kinds of names. Wendigo. Skin walker. Wabanaki. In my research, they said the creature was feeding on the white-skinned settlers. And then some of the natives started disappearing and coming back, but not quite like before. Something had changed. I do not feel you need to worry about this creature harming you. If it wanted to kill you, it would have done so the moment it laid eyes on you. Instead, this creature is stalking you. Tell me, Mrs.Jones. Who introduced you to this man? "he urges.

"Dear god, Edmond shuddered.

"My friend. Julia. Julia Moreau", I blurt

"Expect any friend you've been in contact with recently to be compromised. They're informants. Spies. Cease contact with them immediately", Helsing warns.

I nod earnestly. "Of course, Doctor."

"The stalking? What interest do you suspect he has taken in her? What are his intentions?" Emond asks carefully.

Van Helsing takes a deep breath of his pipe and exhales for a moment.

"I have reason to think that this creature believes that Mrs.Jones is his lost bride.”

Amina Boudreaux POV

Another dream. Another dream I didn’t ask for. I calm my mind at the wash bowl, checking my missed messages. Zanto wanted to speak with me.

For some reason, her message sent my stomach into knots. I can’t think of a single positive reason as to why I’d fully hallucinate my past life after one too many shots.

I send back a quick and kind reply before I close my phone and try to get through my hair appointment without freaking out.

Apparently, the twins had sent special instructions about how they wanted my hair. I'd be getting a shiny, slick ponytail. Nya, on the other hand, was encouraged to play up the curly hair.

An hour later, we were inside Nya’s bedroom, with racks full of clothes. Chichi and Ada absolutely adored Nya. Nya was clearly likable, but I was worried they would clash with her strong personality. She didn’t always hold her tongue. Off the clock, she’d say the first thing on her mind. They loved that about her in an almost maternal way, which was strange because the twins looked to be around our age.

The twins decided on our look. “We want Nya to be the garden, and we want you, Amina, to be the flowers", said Ada.

The garment bag slid open, and honestly, it looked less like a dress and more like a garden. Just as the twins envisioned. Nya stepped into a mess of silk, shimmying the bodice up her body. The color was this gorgeous, a pale seafoam green Elie Saab 2004 couture gown. But it wasn't just plain green. It was covered in these tiny blush-pink floral bits that made it come to life. My favorite part was the gold thread stitched everywhere. It caught the light every time she breathed, giving the dress a bit of a shimmer. The body shimmer she added to her arms was the perfect finishing touch. The fit was perfect, hugging her in all the right places at the top before cascading into a massive, flowy skirt with peekaboo pink thundering underneath. She took a quick spin, and the silk trailed behind her like a cloud.

Chi Chi turns to her. “ Isn’t she just darling, Ada? Like a little doll”, she swooned as she fixed Nya’s dress in the mirror.

“ I’ve been telling you, Chichi. We need one of our own”, her sister retorts.

“ Whatever that means, chile,” Nya hums as she does another twirl, not caring to ask them to elaborate.

I'm put into a pink Atelier Versace 2012 fall couture gown. Ada finally stepped away after fidgeting with the back of my dress. It was something like orchid, a shade of pink so vibrant against my skin.The fit was exact, with a deconstructed cage of silk strips and neon patent leather that nipped my waist into a sharp, dramatic curve. Nearly transparent silicone threads ran along my shoulder, making the gown look as if it were floating. I shake the ends of my dress with my hands and then drop it.

“ Perfect”, Ada spreads out the bottom of my dress to keep it from catching my heels. I look in the mirror, running my hands down my cinched stomach. I turn to Nya, standing behind me.

“ You look incredible”, I gush at Nya as she shifts her coily hair into the correct position.

Nya seemed to shrink away from my compliment in a shy manner. An expression I so rarely see from her, and I feel her pull me into her side as we both now stand in the mirror. “ You know what I was thinking earlier?” she asks.

“Mm?” I turned to look at her.

“ We look so much better than we could have imagined as little kids. I mean, I even got the titties I wanted so badly. It’s poetic, really,” she blurts. I laugh at the thought of us stuffing our shirts and putting on our fake, imaginary lipstick and drinking our imaginary liquor from soda bottle caps.

“ Well, we’re finally women. We can drink the wine, pay the bill, and wear the bras. All the shit we dreamed about. Not as fun as I thought it would be”, I snort.

“ Sometimes it’s fun but only with you", she nudges me with her hip.

Ada and ChiChi present us to Vlad, satisfied with their own work. He compliments us both in that gentlemanly way. The way only he could.

We’re off to the wedding in a black car, all three of us. Alex and his car full of beefy guards follow behind us. I inch my hand into Vlad’s open palm as our car traces the side of a cliff.

The heat of Los Cabos usually sticks to your skin like a thin sheet, but at the southern tip of the Baja peninsula, the breeze off the Pacific made it all the more bareable. Vlad leads Nya and me towards an entirely paved cliffside lookout, our heels clicking against the cobblestone in unison. Usually, this spot was swarming with tourists taking selfies against the horizon, but today the public had been cleared out, leaving the expanse as a private sanctuary for the ceremony.

I gasp at the foggy aquamarine view. The water crashes onto the jagged rocks below, spraying a mist of salt in the air. The setup was very much an intimate garden party, a sharp contrast to the desert-meets-ocean landscape. The steep stone steps were lined with lush flower arrangements—mostly white roses. In the distance, I can hear a live orchestra thanks to the speakers installed behind the roses to carry the sound.

"They really rented out the whole lookout," Nya whispered, adjusting her sunglasses as we approached the crowd of about fifty guests. “ Looks like something out of Eat, Pray, Love, " she chimes. I couldn’t agree more.

At the very edge of the cliff, a simple wooden arch draped in white linen, vines, and white roses, sat framed by the turquoise water below. In the sitting area, there's a large glass canopy that blocks UV light, likely for the vampires in attendance. A live orchestra was tucked into a shaded corner near the entrance. A cello and three violins played a rhythmic, classical cover of a contemporary song, the music swelling to compete with the crashing waves against the rocks.

We’d have to go down three flights of these steep cobblestone steps that left me feeling unsteady. Vlad already takes my hand with his steady, firm one. I turn to grab Nya behind me, and in a moment's notice, Alex swoops in and grabs her free hand. She whips her head around to see him in a cream suit and an earpiece that was likely for show more than anything. His hair was still wet like he had just hopped out of the shower. “ Oh, you saved me”, Nya teased with the back of her hand on her forehead. I could already see her wheels turning, thinking of something smart to say, but it was clear she liked what she saw. Alex looks at her with a softness that hardens when he notices Vlad and me eyeing the interaction.

“ You clean up nice, Alex,” I say kindly.

Alex clears his throat. “ Much obliged, Ms.Boudreaux,” he drawls.

Vlad gently guides me to our seats, just a row behind the close family and friends section. We were early because not even his fledgling was standing there waiting for her bride.

“He is very fond of Nya,” Vlad speaks up.

“Isn’t everyone?” I ask.

“ She makes him nervous. Alex doesn’t get nervous. Out of respect for your friend, I didn’t do any digging on her behalf. But her heart races when he is near. It’s impossible to ignore”, says Vlad.

I nudge his side.“ Boy, do I know the feeling”, I joke.

He pulls the back of my hand to his lips and pecks it before resting it back in his lap. I take a look around the venue, watching guests fill the seats and talk amongst themselves. “Small wedding?” I ask.

Vlad shrugs. “ The ceremony is more so for Luna’s human side. There are about a dozen vampires here—all older. The reception will have many more. Hundreds. The two compromised. You see.”

“ Ah. Well, it seems like they’re already off to a great start on the marriage front. Not that I know anything about what makes a marriage…a good one”, I ramble.

“ Your parents?”, he adds.

Now it's my turn to shrug. “ They weren’t perfect, but I guess there was a concerted effort.”

In a playful tone, he counters my argument. “ I’m sure you’ll get some firsthand experience soon.”

My head whips to look at him, but he stares ahead, and I can see a small smirk on his face. A 6-foot-tall woman in a sharp black tuxedo walks down the aisle. She has long, curly, black hair and hazel eyes, looking to be in her early 30s. There’s a masculine air about her. She's a beautiful woman with strong features. She swoops in for Vlad, and he stands before she even rounds the corner. They embrace wordlessly and tightly. I figure him being here meant a lot to her because I can see tears rim her eyes.

“ This is her?”, the mysterious woman asks incredulously. She shakes her head silently. “ Aye Dios mios”, she murmurs to herself.

Vlad quietly nods, and they both smile at me with so much warmth, likely in some cerebral conversation that I’m not privy to.

The woman shakes her head. “ Where are my manners? I am Sophia Mendoza. I was Vlad’s fledgling. He helped me a lot in my formative years”, she explained, wiping her eyes. I stood to meet her and shake her hand.

“ So, where did you guys meet?” I ask.

She smiles widely. “ Long story, but we actually met in the mid-30s. I’m from Michoacán. West Central Mexico,” she explains.

My eyes widen in fascination. “ Wow. The 30’s. What was that like?”

She laughs. “ Chaotic, but thankfully Vlad saved my ass quite a few times. I owe him my eternal life. By the way, is she coming to the reception?” she turns to Vlad.

“ We’ll both be there”, he says. I pick up a hesitant expression on Sophia’s face. Vlad adds, “ We felt it would be good to prepare her. I think she's ready”, Vlad reassures her. Sofia’s shoulders relax.

Sophia eventually leaves to greet Luna’s friends and family. Vlad and I sit back down, and Nya rounds the corner where Alex deposits her in her seat next to me. I can see her winking at him as he hands her back her purse and walks off, stealing a few glances as he walks away. Nya’s a professional tease. She was collecting and giving away phone numbers left and right all night. There may be an attraction there, but I wasn’t entirely sure if she’d make a real move on him.

The bride, Luna, was gorgeous. Strangely enough, she shared a slight resemblance to Sophia, though she looked to be in her 40’s. The resemblance wasn’t the weird kind, either. Rather, they had the same stylistic font. Dark features, long voluminous hair, dark brows. Luna, every bit of 5 feet 4 was in a cream silk slip wedding gown with her hair in beach waves and a floor-length veil.

Sophia slips a few tears. They exchange their own vows which I thought was incredibly sweet. I see a few misty eyes in the crowd as well. The love radiating off the couple was palpable. There was a sense of relief between them. Almost as if they fought like hell to make it to this very moment.

In their vows, I can pick up that they'd been together for quite some time. Luna, visibly a little older than her partner, clearly needed more time to make up her mind about things. That was perfectly fine with Sophia, who was clearly enamored by her. No way would Luna get rid of her that easily. She'd wait. And if there's one thing I know about vampires, they’re incredibly patient.

After the wedding, Vlad stays behind for a bit to catch up with Sophia and her new bride. The reception wouldn't be for another two hours. This time, it's my job to dress myself. The twins left me a Black Saint Laurent Mini slip dress. As for the shoes, Tom Ford Padlock sandals. I inspected the padlock design on the side of them. I find the styling a little edgy for a reception, but I'm no professional stylist. Nya slips into the bathroom while I smoke out my waterline.

" You look sexy", she says. She sits on the edge of the tub watching me touch up my makeup. "You nervous?" she asked.

"As hell…", I sigh, leaning on the counter.

" Why? You've been to events with him before", she counters.

" Not like this one. This one is special", I said.

I hear the crinkle of a bag behind me. I turn to watch her as she breaks it in half and pushes the entire thing into the side of her cheek. I stare at her, stunned. "Nya. That's too fucking much", I scold her, grabbing the package to look at the dosage.

She shrugs. "I've had this brand before with the exact dosage. I'm good. Here. You need to chill out", she grabs the bag back from me and breaks a fourth of the half piece off. She hands it to me, and I eye it hesitantly before popping it into my mouth and chewing. It's a very small piece—maybe 2mg at best. It should be enough to mellow me out.

When the car finally comes, I rummage through my luggage trying to find a shawl. I find a red one and throw it over my arm as I grab my clutch and head for the door. Nya whistles at me on the way out as I shoot past Alex.

I smell the smoke from outside the car as I slide inside. Vlad had the window halfway cracked, but not by much. He's taken off his jacket, loosened his cuffs, and tie. I'd been too busy assessing him that I didn't notice him assessing me.

“ Are you trying to stay here?” he asks in a falsely curious tone. I roll my eyes playfully.

“ Why would I want that?” I snort.

I can see him wet his lips and put out the end of his cigar with his ashtray.“ It would be awfully easy to convince me right about now", he murmured. I shake my head, looking out the window as we drive further and further away from the villa. “ Tempting offer, but you won’t get out of this that easily”, I warn. My seatbelt ruffles and unclicks. I look down and notice the belt slowly retracting into the holder. Vlad looks out the window to throw me off before his hand shoots out, clasping my waist and pulling me into his lap as I squeal in surprise. I’m giggling, pushing against him when he kisses the side of my face.

His mouth trails to my jaw, pulling back the strap on my dress, diving for the skin on my neck. My laughter turns into small sighs of pleasure when he finds my pulse with his lips. I get chills when he cups the back of my neck, holding me steady when he kisses me. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see that the partition was already up before I could say anything. My arms sprawl over his shoulders, leaning into him as he keeps me tight in his embrace, his nose takes in large helpings of my scent.

Here, on my neck, I’ve become so sensitive that I can hardly stand it. My body knows what comes next. He's inadvertently trained me to respond in this way. I struggle to sit still when he begins to suck the skin. His arms encase me, keeping me anchored to him as I bite down on my tongue, trying not to draw attention to the backseat in case the driver could hear.

I feel his hands trail up and down my dress, on my stomach, looking for an entryway, gaining intel. His thumbs sweep over my breast before he squeezes. My eyes fail to stay open, and the sound seeps out. I can’t hold out for much longer when I kiss him roughly. He's a wall I can’t get through because he hardens against me the more I push against him. I feel my temper flare as I try to seize control that he won’t let me have. These last three days he’s accommodated me endlessly, so I don’t suppose he’ll let me have this so easily.

I wrap my hands around his throat as I lick into him, feeling the way his tongue snakes into my mouth. He grunts as I twist my head to get a better angle. And then I grab the bottom of his face, pressing my nails into his skin. He squeezes me hard as I assert myself onto him. We kiss hungrily, and eagerly, as if trying to enhale one another. My hands run under his untucked shirt, feeling his abs flinch under the warmth of my palms as I trail them up and up, feeling the rouge scars on his stomach. I slowly run my nails back down and feel him shiver.

There's a switch in his demeanor that happens far too quickly. He grabs hold of my hair and pulls firmly until my neck is bared to him. His mouth cranks open, unfurling his fangs to me. They’re the shiniest thing in the car, needle sharp and glinting in the passing street lights. My heart is beating so quickly I can feel it in my ears and behind my eyes. I know what he’s going to ask. He'll ask me where.

“ Don’t tell me…”, I whisper.

He lets me stew in my anticipation. I feel his muscles tense as he calculates the best place to pierce. He strikes me the way a snake would, quick and fast before retracting completely. I whimper out in pain. He doesn’t suck. No, he watches the blood begin to pool from my exposed shoulder before he goes back in to suck slowly.

He’s taking large gulps, pulling my essence into his mouth like a leech. I hear him exhale softly, as if the pressure building between us had finally released itself. Every suckle makes me wince with a fleeting pain that doesn't stay for long. It's quickly soothed with a euphoric buzz that trickles down my body like static. I groan out when the feeling greets. His large hand blankets the bottom half of my face, silencing me as he laps at the trickle of blood running from my shoulder. When he’s had his fill, he pulls away to assess me. I look at him, eyes wide in the dark, with his hand still over my mouth. Slowly, he unseals his skin from my lips, and I take in a sharp inhale.

When I exhale, the tears come. They always do. I feel them dry on my temples. The pleasure seeps and spreads, here to wash away the pain he inflicted. I press myself back into his embrace and press my mouth to his. He’s iron and smoke. The two things I’ve become all too familiar with since knowing him. And pleasure. A third and very big theme in this dynamic. It’s practically all I know when I’m with him. It’s intoxicating…making me all pliant and fuzzy. He knows how to get my mind off of almost anything. And at times, I worry that it’s too shallow a feeling to keep this together. That maybe it’s too much of a good thing. Now I realize that I don’t really care.

I break away from our pleasure stupor to see that we've driven to the other side of the island, which isn’t nearly as developed as the rest of the resort. Dense jungle leads us down a pitch-black path that shoots off into a clearing overlooking a cliff. The car stops and Vlad lowers the partition. Demitri has his brights on, revealing something akin to a storm shelter nestled into the grass. A stoned path runs right up to the doors. What my brain took for trees were, in fact, not trees at all. On each side of the door stood 8-foot-tall beasts. I can think of no other word to describe it. One a smoky grey color and the other a light green. Short and small tusks jittued from their bottom teeth like walruses. Their bodies were an endless expanse of muscle under their custom suits. Their black hair was shaved short to the scalp. I can feel Vlad move, getting ready to leave the car. “ …..What is that?” I whisper under my breath. He chuckles softly.

“ Orcs. You’ll be fine. Come”, he encourages. He opens my door for me and pulls me out. I fix my dress and take a quick look in my compact mirror. My eyeliner is running, so I wipe the skin above my cheeks. What was left of my lipstain, I’m sure he ate. My hair is still somehow holding up, but the big mess had already dried on my shoulder. Blood.

“I need something to wipe this off.” I reach back into the car, but Vlad rests a hand on my back, a sign to slow down.

“ Leave it like that”, he murmurs. He kisses me on the shoulder, and it's pathetically enough to win me over. With his hand at my waist, he leads me towards the opening of the stairs.

The orcs quietly eye us with their black eyes, not saying a word. I can’t imagine what would happen to a trespasser in a place like that. They’d probably swing them over a cliff and go about their night. Thankfully, they open the doors for us, and we enter the stairwell. The steps are steep, and the narrow hall is dimly lit with torches spread a few inches apart from one another.

I followed behind him, stepping onto the stoned steps as the doors shut behind us with a loud clang. My fists are balled into the back of his shirt as we echo down the corridor. I keep my right hand against the wall as extra leverage in case my legs give out. I'm greatful that they don’t. When we reach the bottom, a set of elevators awaits, already open and completely transparent, exposing red brick on the opposite wall. “Must you vampires make everything feel like an Illuminati ritual?” I scoff.

“ What is life for a vampire if you can’t indulge in secret?” he murmurs humorously. We step into the elevator, and Vlad presses the only other button, a down arrow.

I fidget with my reflection. The piece of Nya's edible should be working by now, but I don't feel much of anything. Vlad reassures me that I look perfectly fine as the Elevator comes to a halting stop. We're spat out into an entirely red room. Red floors, red ceiling, red art. It’s disorienting and sharp. A woman dressed in black sits behind a translucent desk. A man in a black mesh mask walks towards us with trays holding flukes of blood. The stench of iron hits me like a train. It’s not the champagne glasses. No. It’s the red-tinted waterfall behind the receptionist. And then I realize…it’s not water.

It gives me pause. So much so that Vlad has to tug me along. He puts his hand up to the masked server, passing on the refreshments. Then another masked man appears with a real tray of champagne. I take one to be polite and fake a small sip as we approach the woman at the desk. The reception looks like Rita Hayworth with a wicked smile. The badge pinned above her right breast reads “ Sybil”. Her eyes are the color of flames, rings of orange and red, coming together just short of her large pupils. Her teeth are filed into tiny points that make me want to retreat.

“ What an honor it is to have you back, my liege. And you’ve brought a very special guest”, she turns to me expectantly. I give her a brief smile, even though I want to slip behind Vlad’s back. There’s an almost piranha-like quality to her that makes it hard to look at her for too long. “Welcome to the underworld, Persephone”, she jokes in a cheery tone. She chuckles at my dazed expression. “ Wrist please”, she quips in a syrupy transatlantic tone.

I look at Vlad for reassurance. He nods quietly, not bothered in the slightest. I slowly put my wrist on the table. “ Oh, I don’t bite”, she cooes, before placing a red band on my wrist. When she’s done she moves on to Vlad, placing a black band on him. I observe her as the two of them make small talk. That’s when I notice her sit back down on not a chair, but a person. A man, positioned on all fours, offers his back as her chair. He doesn’t speak or make a sound. He’s human furniture. All three of these men must be her human pets. The idea is confirmed when one of the servants kneels at her feet, and her hand sinks into the top of his curly hair as if he were a dog.

She waves me goodbye as we walk to the end of the room, taking a sharp left down a dark red hall. We step onto a black glossy escalator. I hold the railing, and Vlad stands close behind me. The sound of the escalator’s metallic gnashing groan echoed off the stone corridors. As we reached the bottom, the stairs flattened, ejecting us into an eerily quiet crowd in a large ballroom.

Floor-to-ceiling red velvet drapes hung in heavy, soft folds along the walls. The fabric turned every corner into an ocean of crimson, with the deep pleats creating endless vertical shadows with no beginning or end. Beneath us, the floor was a jarring, glossy onyx that twinkled under the light as if one were walking on stars in the night sky.

Black and red chairs and sofas sit a few inches apart. Some people sit and other stand in small groups. The ceiling mirrored the floor, black and endless. I had no idea where the light source was coming from, but it was just a few notches above candlelight. Could it have been magic? Or just a design trick? I couldn't be sure. I couldn’t be sure of anything. Not my sense of self. Not my sense of up or down. Not with the piercing eyes trailing our every move. This wasn’t like the gala. There was an unspoken tension in the room. I feel something coil deep in my stomach. Vlad presses a reassuring hand to my lower back as I look around at the spectators. They give nothing more than a polite nod. I’ve got a million and one questions in my head but I figure it’s best to wait until later to ask them. Vlad ushers me to the bar on the right. A dazzling monolithic slab of black obsidian, polished to a mirror finish. It was crowded with figures draped in silk and heavy jewelry, their movements unrushed and graceful. Something I believed most vampires possess. Masked servers waltz between groups in their black mesh masks. Their nametags were merely numbers. Was it meant to demean? Or is it for the server’s anonymity? Near the back, a narrow, shadowed gap in the velvet led to the washrooms, marked only by a stand with a sign that read “lavatory”.

I look around for some familiarity between myself and possibly anybody else here. Rainbow eyes find mine. Some are sharp blue, others coal black, and others in strange colors like purple or pink. Some eyes are too tiny and others too big to be human. A man with pointed ears passes me. He’s unusually tall with glowing skin, the same color as his hair. An almost translucent pale.

“ Fae. Irish fae to be exact”, Vlad murmurs to me, swirling his drink with his wrist.

I look at the side of his face in disbelief before watching the fae join a black woman with monarch wings on her back. Monarch wings of all things. I have to check my pulse at what I'm seeing.

“ Aziza. They're a more benevolent species of fae. There is also a Valkyrie around here somewhere. No shortage of wings in our world, as you can see,” Vlad explains humorously, like it's some inside joke. Really, I'm too busy questioning my reality. How on earth can all these beings exist on earth, and most humans never notice? Where do they go? Where do they hide? I take a tiny pacifying sip of my champagne. Maybe it was a good thing the edible didn’t really work. God knows how I would have taken all of this in under the influence.

“ Amina!” I hear my name in the distance. I look up towards the escalator to see Zanto and Mato. Her assistant, Jeff, gives her a supportive arm as he leads her to me. I spot Mato walking with three other women. A middle-aged blonde woman, a young Asian woman, and an older black woman with auburn locs.

I embrace her while Vlad and Mato talk quietly. “ Hey”, I beam, setting my glass down to give her a hug. Jeff heads to the bar. The three other women stand a short distance away, observing us. They look beautiful in their sparkly gowns, patiently waiting for…something? I’m not sure.

Zanto grins. “ It’s so great to hear your voice again. Is it okay if we speak privately? I want to introduce you to my sisters”, Zanto whispers. She looks gorgeous in her vintage red gown and pinned-up hair.

“ Of course, are you kidding?!”, I gush. The three women wave, signaling for me to follow them to the back of the ballroom. Zanto grabs my wrist as I follow behind them. We huddle into our own little human circle, and for the first time tonight, I take an actual breather.

“ Amina. Lisa, Deborah, and Lettie”, says Zanto. In order, the younger Asian woman, the older blonde woman, and the black woman.

“ We’re so excited to meet you. And don’t worry. This conversation is charmed. Nobody can hear us,” says Lisa. I chuckle at the redness in her cheeks. It’s a relief to know that my business won’t be put out on Front Street. Vampires and their hearing…

“ We’ve been wanting to do this for months, but we didn’t know if it was the right time”, Lettie explains.

I blink in confusion. Every knew something I didn’t. “..Do what?”, I ask.

Zanto clears her throat. “ Those dreams weren’t just dreams. We’ve all met before. After our meeting in Wallachia, I’ve realized how much potential you have. We’ve been testing you. You come from a line of very powerful women. But…have you ever thought about whether or not you’re the reason for that ?”, she suggests.

I laugh. “ The chicken or the egg thing. Right?”

Zanto chuckles. “ Exactly. I know you're trying to enjoy the reception, so I’ll keep this brief. All four of us are what you would consider high witches. In simpler terms, we’ve reached complete self-mastery. A high witch can work with any medium through practice and experience. We all started off much like you long ago…”, Zanto urged.

Deborah clears her throat. I find her to be a little cold. Not rude per se, but she wasn’t as warm. “ Our kind has a way of finding one another. Each of us has a role as a high witch, and each of us has a certain… specialty. For example, mine is scrying. Lisa's is energy manipulation. Lettie’s is spell casting, and Zanto’s is mediumship. I’m sure you have a certain specialty as well…likely potion brewing. Tell me, how good are you at making a drink? Considering your work—”, I cut her off with a discombobulated shake of my head.

“ Have you been spying on me?” I ask worriedly.

Deborah sighs tiredly. “ We don’t exactly have to, but all in all—yes. As I was saying, generally, we all collect data from past events and record them. But you're a natural dream walker. That means you can access information and events through sleep and sometimes involuntarily ”, she says. Now I remember her. She was the woman who pushed me into Anima Smith. I wasn’t a fan of her. It will probably stay that way.

Lisa chimes in now. She steps closer to me, looking right through me. As the youngest, it seems like she’s the most excited of all of them. “ Witches are archivists. To extract information from a specific event requires significant effort and many years of practice. Add your clairsentience and claircognizance, and you might as well be a time traveler. There is so much we could accomplish with your gift”, Lisa rambled. My mouth opens and closes in shock.

“ You’re overwhelming her….”, Zanto says in a flat tone.

I let out a long breath. Lisa steps back and smiles politely, as does Lettie. Deborah takes a sip of her champagne, looking around indifferently.

“ Our proposal is this. I would like you to consider training under us at our institute. There, you'll be able to develop your abilities and truly flourish into the witch that I know–WE know that you can be”, Zanto asks. A sincerity to her tone that never strays too far.

I shake my head cautiously. “ …The whole reason why I even came here is because im trying to prepare for the idea that I’d become…”, I trail off, pointing to the vampires in the crowd. I feel so incredibly out of my depth as I look at the group. “ I can’t leave him to endure his condition alone. He’s waited long enough. There will come a day when he will turn me. Surely I can't be both. Don't witches need a connection to a source? Vampires don’t have that, at least not entirely. Right?,” I rant.

Zanto takes hold of my hands. Her cloudy eyes stared directly into me as if she’d gained sight to relay the message more memorably.

“ We’re not asking you to choose. How old do you think I am?”, she challenges.

I scan her face. “ Uh….32?”, I blurt.

“ I am 506 years old”, she quips. My eyes widen with surprise.

Lisa chimes in. “ I’m 98 years old.”

Then Lettie. “ I’m 211”, she grins.

Then Deborah. “ I’m 463 and counting”, she challenges.

I look at their three faces, feeling a chill go down my spine as I look back at Zanto. Zanto is smiling knowingly. As if she knows exactly what I’m thinking. “ When you master yourself, you master the rules of your life. I won’t die for a long while. And when I’m ready I will join my husband. Amina, whatever you thought about your future. Think bigger”, she whispers.

A little tingle flutters over my entire body. “ Holy shit…”, I chuckle, nervously taking a small sip of my champagne and thinking about what this could mean for me.“ Okay. Okay, I hear you”, I press. Zanto backs away as the three of us stare at each other in silence. Deborah flagged down a server carrying a tray of champagne flutes, and they all grabbed one.

I let out a long sigh, feeling a familiar weightless feeling spread throughout my body. The fucking edible was working just when I thought it wouldn’t. Even more worrying, I should not be feeling like this from 1-2mg.

“ Ladies. It’s been amazing talking to you guys, but I’m just gonna’ be frank…” I pause, looking at all four of them. “ …. I’m high”, I mutter.

Lisa tucks in her lips to stop from laughing. Lettie gives me a sympathetic nod, and Deborah just stares at me. Zanto’s mouth opens for a brief moment, then closes before she mutters. “ Understandable. Let’s table this discussion for when you’re sober. When do you leave? ” she blurts.

I blink a few times, processing what she said. “ Monday morning, but maybe let's talk back in the states?" I ask.

Zanto gave the ladies my number. I suppress a needless giggle. Nothing was funny, but everything was funny in an almost sick kind of way. In fact, the urge to laugh is so strong that I have to look elsewhere. “ Sounds good. It was nice meeting you guys”, I put my hand out to shake their hands, and hugged Zanto last before heading back to Vlad. Mato was already walking back to his wife with a tip of his hat to me. I sit beside Vlad and rest my drink on the counter. I know he wants to know what we spoke about. I’d be sure to fill him in later, but right now I was just focused on getting through the night.

Two masked attendants cut through the crowd and pull back the velvety red curtains, revealing the wall behind them. What I thought would be a doorway was a massive, black iron portcullis, its teeth suspended over a jagged stone archway.

Applause echoes across the room as a crowd forms in the middle of the floor. Sophia and Luna are hand in hand. Luna wears a thin, simple nightgown with a silk robe over it. It’s just simple enough to look less like nightwear and more like something chic and intentional. That is, until I saw her lack of shoes. Sophia clears her throat and grabs a drink to make a toast. The applause quiets down as everyone waits for her speech.

“ Luna and I would like to thank you all for being a part of this special night as we accept her into this family. All of you know what an incredible sacrifice it is for somebody to join you in this condition we call vampirism. A condition we’ve failed to know the true origins of all these years later. Be it a curse from a god or the mark of the devil or sheer misfortune —or luck depending on your perspective”, Sophia pauses. The audience chuckles. I can feel Vlad pull me closer by my waist, throwing his arm over my shoulder.

Sophia continues. “ Some of you here didn’t have a choice. You were thrust into this world and had to find your own way. Some of you escaped a troubled past —like me. And maybe you’ve found life much better after death. Whatever your circumstance. No matter who or what situation put you here, know that we couldn’t be more honored to have you embrace Luna tonight. Know that we consider you an integral part of our lives, no matter how little or often we may speak. I know that you’ll all play a pivotal part in Luna's self-acceptance and her confidence in who she’ll become in this next phase of her life. I want to raise a toast to all of you and to my beautiful wife, Luna.” Sophia raised her glass.

We raise our glasses with her. An overwhelming sea of red peppered with yellow flukes. Then, Sophia and Luna wait at the gate as it rises. Luna directs the crowd to follow them both into the tunnel. The crowd divides into pairs, lining up behind the newlyweds and waltzing under the cold metal, passing the threshold that smelled of wet flint.

Vlad and I emerged into what could best be described as a Colosseum. A circular amphitheater of paved stone built to hold the crowd at maximum capacity. It’s subterranean engineering all the more obvious as the whispers bounced off the stone like we were standing inside a fish bowl. Each tier rose in these perfect, steep rings that gave the illusion of leaning inward. We spilled into the center of the room, looking at how high each tier of seats went. Endless rows that went up so high that I lost count.

Vlad did not lead me to a floor seat. Keeping his arm looped protectively through mine, he led me up a set of steep, narrow stone steps to a high, protruding dais that hung directly over the arena.

Our chairs were heavy and high-backed, made from dark basalt. The vantage point was nauseating. From this height, the circular rows looked like a giant eye, and we were perched right on the edge of the lid. Sophia and Luna sat on the other side of the room, in a dias identical to ours. Below, hundreds of watchful eyes tracked our movements with the synchronized, unblinking precision of a school of fish. It’s so quiet. Too quiet. This is a culture I don’t belong to. The baseline of what’s polite and what’s rude was all twisted and rearranged here. Tonight I was nothing more than an observer. Under the cover of the stone armrest, Vlad reached for my hand and squeezed, his thumb tracing my knuckles as the silence below became more and more absolute.

And the show began.

joannasteez

SAURRR happy to be back and reading.. my show is back on!! Literally haven't read anything else and now you're getting me brain moving again.. love the motivation.. your influence>>>

"It startles me in that way something frightening does. Shocks me in a way that something beautiful does"

Dont have an explanation for it but I love this little line. I feel like sometimes as writers we can get so wrapped up in the big blocks and word salad descriptions to describe something so when a simpler, less wordy little sentence comes along that gets the job done so effortlessly.. i must applaud. Also just love the comparisons of fear and excitement and beauty and how all those things can and do live together and in each other when it comes to the supernatural. (i did have an explanation apparently)

“Sometimes it’s fun but only with you", she nudges me with her hip.

OH BABY SOLANGE WROTE THIS SHT.. BEYONCE COULD NEVER WRITE THIS!!!!!!!!!

Nya and Aminas sisterhood>>> Ive already yapped about how much I adore the way you write them so wont do it again, but I do love that they got to experience this together and Nya is getting a piece of werewolf in the process🥳🙂‍↕️