Page 28 of Vampire Bite

Chapter Sixteen

Lucas

The others were still asleep, stretched out on couches or tucked into makeshift beds, but Annika looked peaceful, her face relaxed in a way I hadn’t seen before. I touched her shoulder gently, whispering her name.

“Annika… come with me…”

She stirred, blinking up at me with that hazy look of waking, and then a small smile crept across her lips. “What’s going on?” she murmured, pushing herself up.

“You’ll see,” I whispered back. “I’ve got something to show you.”

She followed me as I led her through the dimly lit corridors, up a winding staircase, our footsteps echoing in the silence. I glanced back at her a couple of times, catching the curiosity in her eyes, the trace of excitement that made her look almost like she belonged to another world—a world without darkness.

When we reached the roof, the sky stretched out in a deep blue expanse above us, stars glinting like shards of glass, and on the horizon, a hint of dawn just beginning to push through the edges of the night.

For a moment, we forgot that it wasn’t really there, that someone else was making us see everything there was around us. But right now, neither of us cared about that.

Annika’s breath caught as she looked out over the city, a blend of fading shadows and silver light. There was fog, but in it, there was a million flickering lights.

She looked at me, her eyes wide and soft with wonder. “This is beautiful…”

I nodded, unable to keep the small smile from my own face. “Sometimes, when everything seems impossible, you have to look at something that reminds you what it’s all for,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

I smiled, taking her by the hand. “Close your eyes.” She lifted a playful eyebrow at me, so I added, “please.”

That was when she obliged. I gazed at her for a moment, drinking in the sight of her. I knew that I would never forget how she looked now.

I reached behind a small ledge where I’d hidden the blanket and a bit of food. It wasn’t much, but it was enough. I laid it all out as quickly as I could, then I stood by her side.

“You can open your eyes now,” I told her.

Her eyes widened at the sight, a look of shock mixed with something softer. I could see the vulnerability in her now. She wasn’t trying so hard to mask it.

She immediately noticed the strawberries on the plate. We mostly had canned food here, but there was a small patch of land that we turned into a greenhouse, using artificial sunlight. Somehow, against all odds, it would bear occasional fruit.

She knelt beside the plate, brushing her fingers over them. “Strawberries are my favorite,” she confessed. “How… how did you know?”

I shrugged, trying to keep it casual. “Call it a hunch.”

The truth was, I’d overheard her mention it in passing, almost dismissively, one night in conversation. But the memory had stuck with me. Finding these little things hadn’t been easy, but seeing her face now, it felt more than worth it.

She looked up at me, and the disbelief in her eyes made me wonder if anyone had ever gone out of their way for her like this. “Lucas… you didn’t have to do this.”

It was such a simple thing. Just strawberries.

At first, I thought it was a stupid idea. She had probably gotten much better gifts from other men, much more valuable ones. But here… strawberries were priceless. I didn’t know if she would understand that. From the looks of it, she did.

“Maybe not,” I said, sitting down beside her on the blanket, the morning air cool against our faces. “But you’ve been through hell, Annika. I figured you could use something good—something familiar.”

She hesitated, then reached for a small strawberry, savoring the taste, her lips curling into a smile.

“Thank you,” she murmured, and that look in her eyes, that warmth, had me completely undone.

As we sat there, a soft warmth spreading between us, I found myself wanting to fill the silence with words—my words, her words. I wanted to hear her voice, learn more about the little things that made her, her. Maybe I was giving too much of myself away, but with Annika, it felt natural.

“So, what’s one thing you’ve always wanted to do but never did?” I asked, trying to keep it light, though I felt an inexplicable pull to know more, to dig a little deeper.

She tilted her head, thinking. “Well,” she said, a faint smile playing at the corner of her mouth, “I always wanted to learn how to surf. I know, totally impractical. But it’s one of those things… I’d see pictures, read about it, feel that draw to try it myself. There’s just never been time.” She laughed softly, shaking her head. “Not sure I’d be any good.”

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