Valentine’s With A Vampire (Evershift Haven #5)

Chapter 2—Vandria

I SLIDE INTO THE DINING room 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.”

I swirl the blood coffee, ignoring her concern. “If he’s anything like the other outsiders who wander in, he’ll likely assume we’re all cosplayers until something impossible smacks him in the face.” I slide out of my chair, collecting my mug as I stand. “I can’t promise I won’t tease him. That would be a lie.”

Etienne’s shoulders shake in a silent laugh. “You’re impossible.”

Crystal sighs. “At least try to be kind.”

A playful grin creeps onto my lips. I lean down to kiss her cheek. “Always, Mother.”

She groans like she doesn’t believe me, but she knows me well enough to trust I won’t send him running for the hills. Probably. With that, I sweep out of the room and glide up to my bedroom. I tug on black leather pants, lace up my boots, and throw on a fitted jacket. My long, dark hair is braided over one shoulder. It’s easier to manage that way when spells and lanterns start swirling.

I dash downstairs, wave a quick goodbye, and head outside. Evershift Haven greets me with crisp autumn air. Cobblestones gleam under angled sunlight, and a few enchanted decorations swirl around lamp posts. The festival’s magic is already stirring.

Lanterns dangle overhead in neat rows, with each glass orb filled with swirling pastel light. They aren’t fully awakened yet. Soon, they’ll float freely to guide people toward their “destined loves” or so the legend says. I’ve seen it happen too many times to call it myth, but I still enjoy pretending it’s nonsense when explaining it to outsiders. Declan’s confusion will be entertaining.

I slip down Main Street, giving a polite nod to Willow Whisperwind. She’s positioning potted, singing sunflowers outside “Fae Fitness.” The flowers hum a cheerful tune. Willow says good morning, and I lift a hand in greeting. Beyond her, the Town Square’s ancient oak tree stands tall, branches shifting in a gentle breeze. Not many people wander about yet. Just a few residents setting up booths for tonight’s celebration.

I push open the door to my shop, and the familiar smell of old parchment, ink, and leather rises to greet me. Soft dust motes drift in the angled light. I set my mug behind the counter, flip the sign to “Open,” and start organizing a new shipment of reference books about local magical flora.

A slight shuffle at the door draws my attention. I glance up to see a handsome human standing in the entrance. He’s tall and fit, with a rugged edge that sends my pulse skyrocketing. He’s delicious, and I’m not thinking about his blood, though I’m aware of his rapid pulse too. Sunlight frames his broad shoulders, and tension lines his brow. He closes the door behind him carefully, like he’s not sure it’ll stay on its hinges.

I hang back a moment, letting him take in the shop. He’s wearing simple clothes—jeans, a dark shirt, and a jacket—but his posture screams ex-military. Every shift of his stance looks deliberate. He finally meets my gaze, and for a second, neither of us speaks. The corner of my mouth lifts.

He clears his throat. “Hi. This is your store?”

I lean on the counter. “It is. ‘Vandria’s Vellum & Tomes.’ I’m Vandria. Book purveyor and occasional troublemaker. You must be the outsider who arrived last night. My parents are Etienne and Crystal.”

He gives a stiff nod. “Declan Stewart.” He cups the back of his neck.

I study him, noting the faint circles under his eyes. “Sleep poorly?” Impossible with my parents’ enchanted beds, at least from a physical perspective.

He grunts. “Not used to the bed. Or the...ambiance.”

I try not to grin. “Moonlit Inn’s” ambiance can be a little intense for a newcomer. “What brings you to my shop?”

He glances around the shelves of books, scanning the titles on spines. Some glow with subtle enchantments. He makes a face like he’s wrestling with words. “I was told you might have maps. Actual, usable maps.”

My eyes light with amusement. “Of course I have maps. You planning to navigate your way out of Evershift Haven? That’s not as simple as it sounds.”

He steps closer, cautious. “I can try.”

I arch an eyebrow. “Would you prefer an illustrated fantasy map? Complete with whimsical creatures? I have a few that show imaginary roads that twist back into themselves. Quite entertaining.”

He scowls. “I need something real. Something that might get me to the main highway without...” He trails off.

“Without what?”

He exhales. “Without more weirdness. My phone died, my GPS is shot, my van refuses to start, and this entire place—” He gestures vaguely at the floating candelabra overhead. “This entire place can’t be real.”

I fold my arms. “Is that what you think?”

He shrugs, frustration clouding his features. “I’m trying to keep an open mind, but you have illusions and special effects everywhere. I saw a ghost maid last night. The folks at the inn already knew my name. Feels like I stumbled into some bizarre live-action role-play.”

My chest tightens with a laugh. “LARP? That’s a new one. Evershift Haven is absolutely real, magic and all.”

He shakes his head. “Magic.”

I move around the counter. “Your rational brain is probably telling you it’s a bunch of props. Yet you keep seeing things you can’t explain, correct?”

His shoulders hitch. “Maybe it’s advanced technology. Holograms or something. I’ve seen weirder government prototypes.” He swallows, shifting from foot to foot. “But that ghost...yeah. That one’s tough to explain.”

He wants a real answer, but I doubt he’s ready. My mother told me not to tease him, though the temptation is strong. “We have no high-tech illusions. Only magic. This entire town is hidden behind a barrier that confuses outside travelers. Some manage to leave, some choose to stay, and others return.”

He looks at me like I’m speaking Greek. “So, you’re telling me I’m stuck?”

I tap my lip, eyeing him. “Not permanently. The barrier eventually releases outsiders, though not until it...or Grizelda...is ready.” I brush past him and pluck a rolled map from a shelf. “Here. This might help you see how Evershift’s roads connect, but it won’t break the enchantment forcing you to stay.”

He stares suspiciously at the rolled parchment in my hand. “What if I just try walking through the forest? There has to be a way around.”

I press the map into his grip. “You can try, though the forest might decide otherwise. The trees here are known to lead wanderers in circles. Of course, you’re free to attempt it. Just watch out for floating lanterns.”

He snorts. “Floating lanterns? That’s ridiculous.”

A soft tinkling sound draws our attention upward. The candelabra shifts aside, and a single glowing lantern drifts free from the overhead fixture. That was faster than expected. Normally, they start floating at dusk. The festival’s magic must be more potent today.

He steps back, eyes wide. The lantern bobs at the edge of his personal space, shining with a gentle gold light. He reaches out to swat it away, but it gently floats back. The orb pulses, almost like a heartbeat.

“Stop that.” His voice holds a tremor. “Why is it following me?”

I shrug. “It isn’t my doing, I promise. It’s the Festival of Luminaries. These lanterns choose people they believe have a destined love in town.”

He shoots me an incredulous look. “That’s insane.”

The lantern nudges his shoulder, reflecting a shimmer across his face. He flinches, tension coiling in his muscles. I fold my arms, lips curving into a lopsided smile. “I guess you’re a lucky one this year.”

He exhales a sharp breath. “Lucky? This thing is stalking me.”

I snicker. “They can be persistent.”

He grits his teeth. “Get rid of it.”

I shake my head. “It doesn’t work that way. It’ll follow you until the festival ends, or until it’s sure you’ve found your fated match.”

He stands frozen. The lantern hovers in front of him, glowing with a quiet confidence. His frustration radiates in the taut lines of his shoulders. He glances at me, a flicker of alarm behind his eyes. “Fated match. That implies—someone here is my...?”

“That’s the rumor.” I lean a bit closer. “Could be me.” I show the barest hint of fang. “Don’t worry, I already had breakfast.”

He backs away, face coloring. “You’re messing with me.”

I place a hand over my heart. “I might be teasing, but we do have real vampires, ghosts, witches, orcs...you name it.”

He seems unsure what to do with that. The lantern floats near his ear, bobbing in a friendly greeting. “I can’t handle this. You people are... Are you all serious about the magic stuff?”

I nod. “Why else would a lantern be floating next to your head?”

He closes his eyes for a moment as his pulse jumps in his throat. “I need to get out of here. This is too much.”

I press the map into his hand. “At least use this. It won’t solve everything, but it’s better than wandering aimlessly.”

He snatches it, voice hoarse. “Thanks.” He glances at the lantern, which bobs in place. “Stop following me,” he mutters.

I raise my palms in a gesture of helplessness. “Telling it to stop won’t help. Let it float. It means no harm.”

His jaw clenches while he pivots toward the door, clearly done with conversation. Halfway there, he pauses and looks back. I watch him carefully, and a flicker of regret tugs at my stomach. Maybe I’ve pushed too hard.

He shakes his head and storms out, trailing the lantern behind him. A hush settles in the shop. I stare at the door, trying to swallow the knot in my throat.

My mother warned me not to do this. He’s obviously disoriented, and I piled on a lot. That unsettled look in his eyes lingers in my mind. I was having fun until I caught that panicked edge in his voice.

I lean on the counter, pressing my palms against the worn wood. The swirl of guilt in my chest catches me off guard. Usually, I don’t regret messing with outsiders. They either accept the magic or leave. This time... I exhale. He’s not just any random outsider. Something about him... Seeing him so rattled makes me wonder if I was too harsh. My parents did say to be nice.

I pick up a stray piece of parchment and run my thumb over the edges. That lantern singled him out. The festival, like our town, has ways of revealing truths people don’t want to face, and Declan looks like a man already weighed down by burdens. My teasing might have been the last thing he needed.

A faint jingling from the door startles me. I glance up, half-hoping it’s him returning. Instead, one of the local witches pokes her head in to ask if a special order arrived. I paste on a polite smile and wave her inside. My thoughts linger on the memory of Declan’s tense shoulders, the confusion in his eyes, and the way I flippantly teased him about fate.

I sense the festival’s magic stirring in the town, stirring in me. There’s an odd feeling swirling in my chest, something I can’t quite name. Regret, maybe. Curiosity, definitely. Possibly a spark of anticipation. My parents always say Evershift works in mysterious ways. Perhaps I should ease up on the mischief and offer an olive branch next time. Or at least a gentler explanation.