Page 6 of A Touch of Madness

Both of them look at me, startled.

“Now that I know what and who I truly am, I’d rather just stick with my supernatural classes for now. I’m going to talk to Mr. Fallon and let him know I want to keep my two supernatural classes but drop the rest for the remainder of the semester,” I explain. “Between Lara and... everything, I can’t focus. I just don’t have it in me right now. I want to keep learning about this other side of me, though. I’ve really enjoyed those classes, and I think I can keep up with them, even with the Lara issue.” I sigh deeply. “There’s one more thing,” I tell them.

They each give me a look of disdain, as if I’m going to tell them I’m vanishing from the face of the earth.

“I’m moving out of the dorms. At least for now.”

Rebecca’s brow furrows. “What?” she asks, shaking her head. “Why?”

I shrug. “Honestly, it doesn’t feel safe. Amara knows where I was staying, and if she comes back...” I glance down at my still-steaming mug. “And I can’t exactly live with Lara, either. She currently hates me. And Lucian says she isn’t safe because she isn’t herself. I don’t want to believe she would ever truly hurt me but?—”

“Nothing is as expected right now, Sylvie,” Nicole says. “With the way the Society has her, she isn’t thinking clearly. You can’t be too sure.”

“I agree with Nic on this one. And at least you won’t be homeless while we figure all of this out. You can stay with Professor Draedon,” Rebecca says matter-of-factly, as if it’s the most obvious solution in the world.

I’m surprised she suggested it, although I’m unsure as to why. The girls have been privy to everything going on with Lucian—even the fact that I lost my virginity to him. I didn’t tell them until after the switch of my blood for Lara, but I was glad to have them to confide in about it.

“Yeah. He has more than enough space,” Nicole continues. “And if you’re worried about safety, there’s no one better to keep you protected. Plus,” she adds with a teasing smirk, “he owes you, doesn’t he? After everything.” She’s clearly referencing the fact that he hid the whole Seraphina thing from me—and the fact that we were lovers in my past life.

“I don’t think I want to fully move in with him,” I protest, though the idea isn’t as outrageous as I try to make it sound. When it comes from my lips, it seems almost…natural. I’ve already been staying with him anyways, and it’s working…quite well. “Maybe just stay for an indefinite…amount…of time.” I offer the words up like I’m not exactly sure where I’m going with it. And I suppose I’m not.

I think back to my time with Lucian. How we went from strangers…sort of…to partners in research, to…lovers.

It’s so much more than me losing my virginity.

It’s the intense bond I feel with him—even more so now.

He is everything. Everything I could ever want. And he’s only proven that to me time and time again. I’d like to think that I’ve proven it to him, too. He’s been necessary for my sanity, especially since finding out Lara’s humanity is gone. Sure, in the beginning he was vital to me learning and growing as a witch. He pushed me to learn and research. He helped me when others couldn’t. But the moment we first kissed, everything shifted.

I’m falling in love with him. And the bond I feel to him is unlike anything I’ve ever felt in all my life.

Rebecca shrugs. “I mean, it’s practical. And honestly, he probably wouldn’t mind. You’re kind of important to him, Sylvie.”

Before I can argue, Nicole sits up straighter, her expression shifting. “We’ll get your stuff for you. No need to go back there yourself.”

“What do you mean?”

Nicole grins, wiggling her fingers in the air. “A little magic goes a long way. Just tell us what you need, and we’ll have it out of your dorm and into the professor’s gigantic mansion before you can blink.”

I hesitate, the weight of everything threatening to overwhelm me again. But as I look at Nicole and Rebecca, their unwavering support shining through, I feel the smallest flicker of relief.

The pulse of Midnight Delight hums low, a languid rhythm that thrums like an ancient heartbeat. The club breathes life in its peculiar way, a sanctuary where shadow and sin entwine. Among these velvet-dark walls, the undead and the living intermingle in whispered revelries, their desires bleeding into one another. Silken drapes of plum and obsidian cascade down, catching the faint gleam of silver from chandeliers that hang like spectral sentinels above. The air is rich with the heady aroma of spiced wine and cloves, laced with the subtle, unmistakable tang of blood—an undercurrent that lingers like a ghostly caress.

All around, decadence reigns. Vampires and their mortal vessels recline at tables draped in velvet, their voices hushed, smoky with indulgence. A sultry jazz melody weaves through the air, its bassline a languorous echo of the world’s primal beat.

Sylvie stands beside me, an ember of reluctant light amidst this sea of shadows. Her unease betrays her newness to this realm, where the rules of humanity falter and the macabre becomes commonplace. Her wariness of my kind—a wariness she wears like armor—is only natural, though her curiosity gleams through the cracks.

Her gaze flits across the room, alighting on vampires and their human companions entwined in intimate rituals. One couple in a far corner commands her attention: a woman, bound and suspended, her body a willing altar to the vampiric hunger. Her partner drinks deeply as he moves within her, their union a symphony of ecstasy. The tableau is raw, electric—a vision designed to seduce even the most reticent.

“It’s not what I expected,” Sylvie murmurs at last, her voice tinged with wonder and trepidation.

I tilt my glass, the bourbon within catching the faint light as I swirl it. “And what, pray tell, did you expect, my love?”

Her lips press together as she considers, then she gestures vaguely toward the room. “Something... darker. This feels almost normal. Like some kind of gothic cocktail lounge.”

A smile, faint and sardonic, curls at the edges of my mouth. “Normality is but a thin veil, Sylvie. Tug at its edges, and the truth lies bare beneath it.”

Her eyes drift to a nearby booth where a vampire drinks deeply from a human’s wrist, their gazes locked in an unbroken communion. The human tilts their head back, a soundless gasp frozen on parted lips as bliss overtakes them. A faint tremor ripples through Sylvie, her breath quickening ever so slightly.

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