Page 8 of Vampire Bite

He gave me a small, almost amused look. “Not exactly a good idea,” he said, his tone gentle but firm. “We need to keep our scent masked. The dirtier, the better.”

I wrinkled my nose, not thrilled about the idea, but I could see his point. This place required sacrifices, down to the smallest detail, and one day of discomfort wouldn’t kill me. I took a steadying breath, nodding.

We slipped out cautiously, moving like shadows through the streets. Every step was silent, every pause calculated as he listened for any signs of life. The morning here barely broke through the haze, leaving the streets cloaked in a thick, ghostly fog. The buildings around us were gray and crumbling, like skeletons of a town long forgotten.

I kept close to him, feeling the tension radiate from his every movement, as if he was a shield between me and the darkness that seemed to bleed from the very walls of this place. He’d glance back every few steps, his eyes flicking to me,reassuring, and I found myself feeling oddly safe despite the circumstances.

After what felt like an eternity of weaving through alleys and slipping between buildings, we finally stopped in front of a dilapidated old structure that looked more like a ruin than a meeting spot. The windows were shattered, boards nailed over the gaps, but they’d long since rotted and hung loose, creaking in the faint breeze. The entire building seemed to sag inward, as if it was exhausted from holding itself together.

I shot him a skeptical look, raising an eyebrow. “This is it?”

He nodded, glancing around before resting a hand on my shoulder. His touch was steady, grounding. “It’s not much, but that’s why it works. The shifters don’t bother with places that look ready to fall apart. It’s a kind of… camouflage.”

I looked back at the building, my apprehension warring with the flicker of hope that had sparked earlier. This place might’ve looked as beaten down as I felt, but if there were people inside—real people, others who hadn’t lost their minds to this twisted world—then maybe, just maybe, they could help me find the man I was looking for. Hopefully then, I would be able to go back home… home, where Mom was waiting, sick and in bed.

I banished the thought, with a shake of my head.

“Are you all right?” he asked, looking concerned.

“Of course,” I replied hastily. That wasn’t something I wanted to divulge. Besides, I hadn’t planned on staying here long enough to make any friends.

He obviously thought that I was worried about meeting the people inside, so I felt him squeezing my shoulder gently.

“They’re good people,” he murmured in a low voice. “They’re like us. Caught here, but still holding on, refusing to bow down. We’re not alone.”

I nodded. “Lead the way.”

He led me inside, and I followed him through the narrow, dusty corridors of the crumbling building, every step echoing faintly off the cracked walls. We descended down a series of steep, winding stairs that seemed to go on forever, the dim light barely illuminating the path ahead. Finally, he stopped in front of a heavy door at the very bottom, a door that looked like it hadn’t been opened in years.

I hesitated, taking in the dark, cold air that seeped through the cracks. Every part of my mind was telling me to turn back, to question this choice, this blind trust I’d thrown his way. But then he chuckled, low and amused, glancing back at me.

“If I wanted to kill you, I would’ve already done that. No?”

A small, dry laugh escaped me despite myself. “Maybe you want me alive for something.”

He raised a brow, his eyes glinting with amusement. “Maybe. But have you come all the way here to stop now?”

His words hung in the air, daring me. Without another word, I stepped forward, my heart pounding, and followed him down the last stretch. Whatever I was about to find, I’d decided to see it through. Besides, maybe those people had the information I was searching for. I had to see.

The basement felt different, almost like a hidden fortress. The room was larger than I’d expected, dimly lit by an array of monitors and equipment, cobbled together and buzzing quietly. The space was filled with wires, makeshift tables, scattered maps, and a heavy, almost electric sense of purpose that seemed to hum in the air.

Three figures waited there, watching me with varying expressions of curiosity and suspicion. The first was a wiry woman with cropped, bleach-blonde hair and a calculating gaze. Her fingers were flying over a keyboard, her eyes flicking from screen to screen, barely acknowledging me as I entered. She looked like the kind of person who’d seen a few too many thingsfor her liking and had turned her knowledge into armor. A techie, I realized—a hacker, maybe.

Next to her stood a man, broad-shouldered and steady, with an air of calm that only came from years of battle. His presence was grounding, a solid force that made the whole room feel just a little safer. I noticed the way he glanced from me to the vampire at my side, his face unreadable but alert. A soldier, clearly—someone who’d once fought in a war and carried it with him.

But it was the third figure that drew my attention. He sat alone in the far corner, wrists bound with heavy chains that didn’t link together at all, but remained solely around his wrists. His face was half-hidden in shadows, but I could see his intense, haunted gaze watching me, as if sizing me up, calculating. He was silent, didn’t say a word. There was something different about him, something mysterious and dangerous. I felt a shiver pass through me as I looked back at Lucas.

He nodded to each of them, introducing them one by one.

“Lena,” he said, gesturing to the blonde woman still focused on the screens. She shot me a quick, appraising glance, then went right back to her work, fingers flying like lightning over the keyboard.

I could tell there wasn’t much that escaped her notice. She was watching everything and everybody. She was probably even reading my body language, which made me shift weight onto one leg nervously and cross my arms at the level of my chest.

“And this is Callum.” He turned to the broad-shouldered man, who gave me a slow, almost respectful nod.

His gaze was steady, assessing. I felt the weight of it, like he was measuring whether I was worth the trouble of their attention. He looked like he belonged on a battlefield, not in a basement, yet here he was, as serious and grounded as a stone pillar.

Finally, the vampire’s eyes moved to the chained man, sitting in the shadows. “That one… he’s Isaac.”

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