"Who was it? One of her rats?" Viviane asked, a touch of concern in her voice.
"No," Madeline replied, dismissing the thought with a wave. "Doesn't matter. I don't think they heard much anyway." She closed the door again, though Seamus could hear Viviane protest faintly on the other side.
"I told you we need to talk about this in—" Viviane's voice was cut off as the room light suddenly dimmed.
Seamus, breath ragged, pressed himself against the wall just around the corner in the hallway. His heart pounded in his chest, but he let out a quiet sigh of relief when he heard no more voices.
His mind raced with questions. What was their plan? Why was he involved? He had no idea what kind of relationship Viviane and Madeline shared, but he knew one thing, he couldn't stand by and do nothing. He needed to find out more.
***
Tomorrow came and Seamus found himself waiting in front of Viviane's class as usual, hoping they could have lunch together. But when the lecture ended, Viviane didn't come out. Her friends mentioned that she had left the class in the middle of it.
Seamus frowned. She always messaged him if something was wrong, but not this time. No messages, no explanation, just silence.
Something didn't feel right. He could sense that something important, maybe even dangerous, was happening and as always, he was right in the middle of it, with no clue about what was going on.
Worst of all, he had no idea where to start, nor how to track Viviane down. Despite being a well-known figure at the university, Viviane kept her distance from everyone. She was the kind of person who kept to herself, and if Seamus didn't know where she was, no one else would either.
"Damn it, this is bad." He ran his hand through his disheveled hair, frustration mounting. But then, he remembered he had other things to do.
He decided to head over to the family restaurant, not as a worker, but as a customer, to collect his payment for the half-month he'd worked there. He had decided to quit his job.
"I heard your dad's marrying a hot rich widow," came the familiar voice of the head chef, David, from the kitchen. The door swung open and he stepped into view, wiping his hands on a towel.
Seamus blinked. "How'd you hear that?" he asked, accepting the white envelope of cash from the manager.
"Oh, please. Everyone knows," Betty chimed in from the counter.
David leaned on the counter, grinning. "Your dad and I share the same barber. And a bartender. Neither of them can shut up about how lucky he is."
"Ah, well… they're not wrong," Seamus admitted with a crooked smile. Though honestly, it felt more like he was the one who'd been dragged into the madness that came with his father's new wife and stepdaughter.
David suddenly leaned in close and whispered, "Tell me, boy. Is it true they're vampires?"
Seamus flinched, caught off guard. "Wh-what? Where's that coming from?"
David's expression turned serious. "My old man used to warn me about that mansion on the hill. Swore there were women in the woods who sucked blood outta children. Said he saw them more than once."
Betty nodded in agreement. "He's not the only one. There've been plenty of missing persons around here. The media blames wolves or bears, but my cousin in the police says the bodies are drained of blood, all thin, like they've been sucked dry."
Seamus froze, not just by the terrifying gossip, but by the fact that he'd never heard any of this before, even though he'd lived in the city since he was twelve.
Well… maybe because he was too busy working his ass off while his dad spent every day drunk.
"Right," Seamus finally said, shaking his head. "No, they're just normal people. My new… mom is pretty welcoming, and so is my stepsister."
David sighed and placed a hand on Seamus' shoulder. "I worry about you, kid. Your dad? He can rot. But if anything weird ever happens—or if you see something you shouldn't—you come to us, yeah?"
Betty smiled warmly and handed him a paper bag. "We're like family here, Seamus. Take care of yourself."
Seamus gave a grateful but awkward nod. "Thanks, everyone..." He rubbed the back of his neck, still not used to this kind of care.
The three of them continued talking, drifting into nostalgia as the hours slipped by unnoticed. They reminisced about their first meeting, laughed over shared memories, and lost themselves in the comfort of familiarity. None of them realized how quickly evening had crept in until Betty glanced toward the window.
Her voice dropped into a murmur as she pointed outside. "Oh, the mist is already down…"
Seamus followed her gaze, his eyes narrowing as the fog began to spread across the road. He stood from his seat. "This is bad. I need to go back."
"You can stay here and call your dad to pick you up," David offered, his voice laced with concern. "It's dangerous when the mist comes down from the mountain."
"I'll be fine," Seamus replied with a small, dismissive smile. "I'm not a kid anymore, and the mist isn't even that thick."
Without waiting for further protest, he turned and left the restaurant, never once glancing back. He didn't notice how the eyes of both his so-called friends darkened in his absence.
As Seamus made his way up the hill, a chill crawled across his skin, raising every hair on the back of his neck. The road ahead was empty, no cars like usual. The mist, once thin and harmless, had grown heavier, swallowing the path ahead in a gray haze.
He tried to shake the unease creeping into his bones, but the forest seemed to close in tighter with every step. The stories Betty and David used to tell him flickered through his memory.
Still, he reminded himself that most of those stories likely traced back to the Velstrath family and their theatrics. At least, he hoped they did. Viviane had once told him about vampires who lived outside the Seven Great Covenants.
These weren't the elegant, disciplined kind who followed strict rules when feeding. They were wild, feral things, devoured by thirst and hunger, unable—or unwilling—to control themselves.
The vampire society called them the Scavangers.
"But most of them are weak," Seamus muttered under his breath, trying to reassure himself. "So it should be fine."
He suddenly heard footsteps echo faintly behind him, matching his pace. He told himself it was paranoia, nerves playing tricks on his ears, but his feet moved faster anyway. He turned back and from the side of his eyes, he could see creatures moving.
He decided to use Isolde's power, preparing to draw blood from his finger. But before he could, something slammed into him with brutal force the point he was thrown into the forest. The impact hurled him off his feet, his back striking the cold, damp ground.
Seamus lifted his head and saw it wasn't something that had hit him, it was someone.
The figure was hunched and monstrous. Its head was nearly bald, with only a few wisps of wiry hair clinging to the scalp. Deep wrinkles carved through its skin, and its grin stretched unnaturally wide.
Rows of jagged, yellowed fangs and thick drool dripped down its chin, splattering onto the ground and onto Seamus.
"Hehe… hehe… Crimson Nectar," the creature rasped. "I can finally taste it. I can finally be free from this cursed thirst."