Page 14 of Valentine's With A Vampire

Back on the inn’s front porch, the new clue says“A rosebush stands in the garden fair, and hearts will bloom if you truly care.”

We slip around the side yard, where a spiral of steppingstones leads to a rosebush brimming with tight buds. The lantern overhead flickers excitedly when we approach. Vandria arches a brow at me. “This might be more illusions.”

Tentatively, I lean in to investigate. Several buds quiver, then pop open into red hearts. It’s so abrupt, I jerk backward, and she laughs under her breath.

“Why hearts?” I grouse.

She points to a small plaque:“These blooms respond to the presence of attraction.”

I glance away, a knot forming in my stomach. The bush keeps sprouting hearts, and a few swirl gently toward us. I cough, ignoring a flush creeping up my neck. “It’s broken, obviously.”

She hides a smirk, stepping closer to a blossom. Immediately, more hearts open in a flurry. My cheeks blaze.

She murmurs, “Must be a glitch, right?”

I press my lips together. “Totally.”

Despite my denial, the cascade of heart blooms intensifies whenever we stand near each other. My pulse soars, but I force myself to focus on searching for another clue. She helps, rummaging under leaves, until we find a small scroll tied to a thorny branch. We pluck it carefully, ignoring the hearts floating around us.

She unrolls it. “Last location is...my bookstore?” She glances up, confusion flickering across her face. “Why would it end there?”

I shrug, clearing my throat. “No idea. Let’s just finish this.”

NIGHT DEEPENS AS WEjog through winding streets. Some participants look tired, but the festival’s energy hums on. We approach “Vandria’s Vellum & Tomes,” where the lights are dimmed. She fiddles with the door, and I’m surprised to find no one waiting for entry to finish the scavenger hunt. Could we be the first to figure it out?

Stepping inside, we find the interior eerily still, lit only by a few floating candles. I shine my phone’s flashlight over the shelves, breath still heaving from the sprint here. The place is empty. Our scavenger clue claims the final token is here, stashed among rare volumes. She flips the last note in her hand, scanning it again, eyes narrowed.

“According to this, it’s hidden near the archives. That’s in the back.”

We’ve been racing all over town collecting riddles and items—enough that my mind is whirling. A piece of me never expected to get so into it. Another part notices how Vandria’s eyes glint whenever she solves a puzzle. Each success has drawn us closer, in ways I can’t fully explain.

She leads me past the main counter. The air smells like dusty parchment and a hint of vanilla. The deeper we go, the quieter everything becomes. A single candle flickers on a nearby table, casting long shadows on the old wood floor.

A heavy door at the back stands ajar, enough to let us slip through. I take the lead, elbow pushing the door open. The space beyond is dim, cluttered with half-labeled boxes and stacks of books. I blink, letting my eyes adjust.

“There.” She points at a squat wooden chest in the corner.

We weave around random crates. The chest’s lid stands propped open, revealing a swirl of parchment strips. My pulse beats faster. This must be it. I tug one out, scanning the words, but can’t make sense of them. The swirling letters slip through my focus like illusions.

She crouches next to me, shoulder against mine. “It might rearrange if we read it together,” she says, mouth near my ear.

I hold the parchment toward the nearest candle. The text wavers, then clarifies, forming a single sentence:

“Love’s final token blossoms where hearts meet.”

Vandria traces the words. “Sounds like an item or a sign.”

“Guess so? We should—”

A sudden slam behind us cuts me off. I whip around, heart lurching. The door is shut. I rush back and twist the handle. It won’t budge.

She stands, approaching to join me. She tries her key in the lock, but it won’t move. “Magically locked.”

My fist hits the solid wood. “Locked from the outside?”

She crosses her arms, gaze darting over the runic etchings across the frame. “Feels like magic. Or Grizelda messing with us.” Her voice drops, slightly annoyed. “She must’ve timed this to create some forced bonding moment.”

A frustrated breath leaves me. “We can’t just break it down?”

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