Page 8 of Valentine's With A Vampire

Her smile reveals another flash of fang. Ask anything.”

I clear my throat. “Crystal looks a few years older than me, and I’m thirty. You look a bit younger than her and me, but you’re calling her your mother. That can’t be right.”

Her lips twitch. “Vampires don’t exactly age the same way humans do.”

My stomach knots. I lean back, crossing my arms. “You really believe you’re a vampire?”

She lifts her cup, sipping slowly, eyes glinting with a flash of red over the rim. “I don’t just believe it.”

A heavy silence hangs between us. The pink hearts continue drifting around my shoulders, making the scene look ridiculous. “I can’t explain your reflection in the mirror or your mother’s either. Vampires don’t have reflections.”

She laughs. “Old myths. Reality is quite different. Before you ask, we drink blood, but it’s not from sentient beings. It’s also fortified with a magical concoction to reduce the need for consumption as well, and we can still eat food.”

I press my elbows against the table. “And you’re their daughter.”

She nods, gaze steady. “I am. I was born seventy years ago, and my mother is over two hundred. That’s normal for vampires, who can be born or turned.”

My spine stiffens. “That’s not normal.” Then I catch the flash of hurt in her eyes, and my tone softens. “Look, I’m sorry. That came out wrong.”

She runs her thumb along the edge of her mug. “It’s fine. We’re used to it.” She straightens. “You don’t have to believe right now. Just give yourself a chance to see this town for what it is.”

I breathe in coffee-scented air and shake my head. “This is still too much.”

She shifts her focus to the lantern, which floats near my right ear. “That thing likes you. People are starting to talk.”

Two older women at a nearby table glance over with impish grins. One jots something into a small notepad. The other stifles a chuckle, gaze flicking between me and Vandria. My skin prickles.

She squints at them. “They’re placing bets.”

My jaw tightens. “Bets on what?”

She tilts her chin, annoyance crossing her features. “How long until you accept the magic.” She forces a thin smile in their direction, then focuses on me again.

My stomach churns. “They’re treating me like a sideshow.”

She lifts a shoulder. “Small-town curiosity. They don’t mean harm.”

My gaze drops to the steaming latte. I swirl it, watching tiny hearts dissolve. “I’m not here for a magical matchmaking experiment.”

She looks away for a moment, gaze shifting to the window where a cluster of lanterns hovers in the distance. “You might not have a choice. Our barrier is stubborn. The festival is in full swing. The lantern does what it wants.”

My fingers drum the table. “Is the festival because of Valentine’s Day?”

She arches a brow, prompting me to tell her about our holiday. Vandria shakes her head. “No. It’s from a fae tradition, I think. Something about finding one’s mate before the spring equinox to ensure maximum fertility.” She grins. “I hear you’re stuck here for now.”

I nod. “The orc said probably not until the festival ends.”

She hesitates. “You might not want my advice, but...embrace the magic, at least a little. It might help you accept what’s happening here.”

I push up from my seat, ignoring the hearts that swirl around me. “I refuse. This is insane. I’m just trying to leave.”The frustration almost chokes me. “I can’t do this. It’s all so ridiculous.”

She shifts her weight. “I’m sorry.”

My jaw tightens. “It’s not your fault.”

She glances at the lantern. “I hope you find a way to cope with that thing. If you need me, my shop is open.”

My throat feels scratchy. “Thanks.”

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