Page 12 of Vampire Bite

“Does it rain here?” I asked curiously.

There was something surreal about it, as if the world had shifted in tune with what had just happened.

He glanced toward the window, a faint smile pulling at his lips. “Not rain exactly. We’re underground here, remember? That’s just the runoff. Sometimes, after storms up above, it seeps down, dripping through the cracks.” His voice was low, almost soft in a way I hadn’t heard before. “But it does sound like rain, doesn’t it?”

I nodded, still listening. The sound was strangely comforting, a gentle rhythm in the silence that followed, like an echo of something familiar in this strange place. He moved to sit next to me on the sofa, settling in close enough that I could feel the warmth of his shoulder brushing against mine. For a while, we just sat there, side by side, listening to the water trickling down through the hidden walls, through all the layers between this place and the surface.

As we sat there in the silence, listening to the steady drip of water through the stone walls, I felt the questions I’d been holding back start to surface. I glanced over at him, watching his expression, the way he seemed so settled in this place—like he belonged here, in the shadows, far beneath the world I knew.

“How long have you been here?” I asked quietly, the words almost swallowed by the muted sound of the dripping water.

He looked at me, his eyes dark and unreadable, before turning his gaze toward the wall, as though he could see through it. “I don’t remember,” he said, voice barely above a whisper. “Long enough that the years blur together.”

I couldn’t quite understand that, couldn’t imagine the endlessness of it, the way time could melt into somethingwithout edges. “Don’t you miss it?” I asked, my voice softer now. “The world above?”

He paused, as if he had to consider his answer, a far-off look in his eyes. “I don’t remember it anymore. This is my home now.” There was a finality to his tone, something resigned, but not bitter. Just… accepting.

I nodded, looking down at my hands. For him, this was normal, the only life he knew. But for me, this underground world felt like a dream—a dark, twisted reflection of reality, a place I wasn’t sure I could ever call home. I’d been here only a short time, and already I felt a deep ache, a longing to return to something familiar.

“I want to go back home,” I murmured, almost to myself. “I have to. There’s… someone waiting for me.”

He turned to me, his expression shifting. “Who?” he asked, his voice low, but there was an edge there, a hint of something more.

I hesitated, the words catching in my throat. There was too much to explain, and somehow, it felt wrong to say it out loud in this place. “It’s… complicated,” I finally said, brushing it off, though I could see a flicker of something in his eyes—disappointment, perhaps, or curiosity. I couldn’t quite tell.

He didn’t press further, and for that, I was grateful. Instead, we both turned our gazes forward, letting the quiet settle between us again. Yet somehow, I felt the weight of my words lingering in the air, a silent reminder of the world waiting for me beyond these dark walls. And I knew that, for all his calm, he felt it too.

Chapter Eight

Lucas

It was dawn. We had gathered just outside the shifters’ compound, cloaked in shadow, every sense on edge. The others moved silently beside me, their faces set, eyes sharp. I glanced over at Annika, catching the determined look on her face, that fierce spark I’d come to admire more than I cared to admit.

“Everyone ready?” I whispered, my voice barely more than a breath, though I knew every one of them could hear it.

They nodded in silent agreement, the tension crackling between us. We were all on edge, every instinct on high alert. This was a dangerous plan, risky in ways I hadn’t shared with Annika, but I couldn’t afford to think about that now. We needed to get in, secure the weapons, and help any prisoners along the way.

I led the way, moving forward into the darkness. The entrance loomed ahead, half-buried in stone and earth, barely visible in the faint light that filtered down through the alley. I motioned for everyone to stay close, listening for even the slightest sign of movement. The shifters were unpredictable, brutal, and every one of us knew that getting caught meant a one-way trip to their cages—or worse.

We slipped inside, pressing up against the cold, rough walls as we moved deeper into the compound. The air was thick, filled with the stale scent of damp earth and something more acrid, like metal and decay. I could feel Annikajust behind me, her footsteps light, her breaths shallow. She was steady, focused, and even though she knew how dangerous this would be, she hadn’t hesitated once.

We moved through the narrow corridors, deeper into the heart of the place. The weapons storage was supposed to be nearby, past a guarded hallway and down a hidden stairwell. I motioned for everyone to stop, listening for guards. Somewhere ahead, I could hear faint footsteps, voices muttering low, and I clenched my jaw, signaling for silence.

A few moments later, the footsteps faded, and we crept forward again, slipping through the shadows like ghosts. I could feel the anticipation building, the sense that we were on the edge of something deadly, something we might not come back from. But I pushed it down, letting my focus sharpen, keeping Annika and the others close as we rounded the last corner.

The storage room lay ahead, its door heavy, reinforced. One last glance to everyone, then I moved forward, setting us into motion. This was it.

Just as we reached the storage room, the heavy door creaking open under my grip, a sudden noise echoed down the corridor. I froze, heart pounding, motioning for everyone to stay silent. Footsteps—several of them—thundered nearby, rushing toward the compound entrance. My instincts screamed at me to pull back, to get Annika and the others out of there before we were caught. But the footsteps didn’t get closer. Instead, they faded, one by one, replaced by shouts and muffled commands as the shifters were summoned outside.

We stood perfectly still, tense and ready for a fight. I glanced back at Annika, catching the flash of resolve in her eyes, the way her fingers hovered just over her weapon. She met my gaze, and for a moment, it was like we were the only two here, breathing in sync, hearts pounding in tandem.

After a few tense moments, the compound settled into silence. I could hear the distant clamor of shifters moving outside, leaving only a few scattered footsteps echoingsomewhere down the halls. A distraction, perfectly timed—and we hadn’t been the ones to create it.

“Move fast,” I murmured to the others, keeping my voice low.

We stepped inside the storage room, wasting no time. Metal glinted in the dim light, rows of weapons lining the walls, crates stacked high with ammunition, blades, and heavier artillery. This was it. The stash we’d been planning to hit for weeks, the stockpile the shifters had been guarding fiercely, a trove of weapons they used to terrorize the underground.

The others moved quickly, grabbing as much as they could carry. I found myself scanning the room, picking through items, then watching Annika as she secured a small crate of ammunition, her movements precise, efficient.

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