Page 3 of Valentine's With A Vampire

I clear my throat. “I’d like it sooner if possible.”

His tone remains even. “Won’t do you any good tonight, friend. That van of yours needs more than a jump, and my fiancée is holding dinner for me. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Click. The line goes dead. I set it back, meeting the calm, knowing stares of Crystal and Etienne. A swirl of frustration rises in my chest. “Guess I’m stuck until morning.”

She folds her hands in front of her. “We have a lovely vacant room. You’re welcome to stay.”

The rational side of me would normally refuse. This entire place sets my nerves on edge. Something about them already knowing me, about ghosts drifting through doorways, about a phone that’s decades out of date but somehow works... None of it computes. Except there’s nowhere else to go, and a bed would beat sleeping in the van.

I give them a short nod. “I can pay in cash or card.”

Etienne waves a dismissive hand. “We’ll settle accounts later.”

Crystal glides toward the door. “Follow me. I’ll show you upstairs.”

I follow, looking around as we walk. The inn’s decor remains lavish and antique, yet somehow timeless, with arching hallways and paneling that gleams under ornate sconces. A few doors pass by on either side, each bearing a small plaque with swirling text. One door stands half-open, revealing a cozy reading nook that stretches outward in defiance of the mansion’s external dimensions. Another corridor holds paintings of moonlit landscapes.

Crystal stops at a large, intricately carved door with silver filigree around the handle. She gestures toward it. “This is the Luna Suite. You’ll rest well here.”

I brace a palm against the wood, expecting the door to be locked, but it swings open with a quiet click. The room beyond glows with subtle lamplight. A large canopied bed draped in velvet commands the space.

Crystal remains at the threshold, watching me as if checking my reaction. “If you need anything, ring the silver bell on the nightstand. We’ll hear it. Sleep well, Declan.”

She disappears down the corridor, leaving me alone in this surreal haven. I approach the bed, pressing a hand to the canopy’s soft material. The swirl of color beneath my fingers radiates a gentle warmth. A large window on the far wall reveals the street below. Lanterns illuminate the cobblestone, and from here, the entire town looks like a scene out of a fairy tale. Mist drifts at the far edges, where the road presumably leads back to the highway, though I didn’t see any sign of that highway while walking.

I cross the room and test the door, verifying it locks from the inside. A quiet click confirms it. The latch is solid. I press my back against it, seeking a flimsy sense of security. The bed offers an enticing invitation to rest. Sleep might be the best option if I’m to figure this out tomorrow. A single lamp rests on the nightstand. The silver bell glints, its tiny handle shaped like a crescent moon.

I get into bed and am immediately comfortable. It’s like the bed adjusts to my preferences and shape. I sigh, and my eyes close almost immediately. The bed is too comfortable.

No sense fighting it. Morning is soon enough to track down this Throk, get the van fixed, and leave. No reason to worry about creatures of the night or living illusions, since none of this is real...right?

Chapter 2—Vandria

I SLIDE INTO THE DININGroom and catch the aroma of coffee drifting from a polished silver carafe. My father, Etienne, stands near the curtained window, swirling a cup of coffee. It’s ruby color reveals he’s laced it with the herbed blood on which we rely. Mother sits at the head of our ornate table, finishing a plate of pumpkin waffles drizzled with syrup. She gestures for me to join them, though her bright eyes flick to the door as if expecting someone else.

She sets down her fork, the faint clink lost under the crackle of our small fireplace. “You’re late, Vandria. We wondered if you’d sleep through breakfast.”

I drop into the chair beside her and accept the mug she pushes toward me. “It’s only late by your standards, Mother. The sun barely came up.”

Etienne arches an eyebrow. “Our guest—Declan Stewart—left at dawn. He didn’t even wait to share a morning meal. Strange man. You missed him by ten minutes.”

That explains her watchful gaze on the door. She loves fussing over new visitors, especially uneasy ones. I cradle my mug, inhaling the earthy scent. “He left without eating? That’s no fun.”

Crystal tilts her head. “He slipped out looking determined. He refused help carrying his bag. I asked if he’d like a warm breakfast, but he only mumbled something about needing to explore town.”

She sounds a little disappointed. My mother’s nurturing streak never fails to amuse me. I reach for a slice of bacon and sink my teeth in, letting the salty flavor mingle with the faint hints of blood, herbs, and coffee on my tongue. “He’s an outsider, right? They do that. Outsiders think Evershift is some weird theme park until they realize it’s...real.”

She levels me with a stare. “Don’t antagonize him. He’s already anxious.”

My father sets aside his drink and flips open a folded paper that Throk must’ve left. “Throk suggests it’ll take at least a day to fix the van, maybe two. Declan tried to call him last night, but Throk was busy. Hence, the poor man roamed the streets at sunrise.”

I shrug and reach for more bacon. “Could be interesting. The Festival of Luminaries starts tonight. He picked quite the moment to get stranded.”

Crystal narrows her eyes, though there’s warmth behind them. “That’s exactly why you should go easy. This festival can be overwhelming. Lanterns floating everywhere, illusions swirling around—he’ll be confused enough.”

I fold my napkin across my lap. “Is that your gentle way of telling me to behave?”

Her expression says yes. “Promise you won’t toy with him. He’s not ready to hear the full scope of Evershift’s magic.”

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