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

Chapter 5—Declan

I’M RELUCTANTLY DRAWN in and soon running alongside Vandria as we round the corner, heading toward the Celestial Clock Tower. There’s no time to process how I ended up in a full-blown scavenger hunt. One moment, I was sulking under a lamppost, the next I’m sprinting through Evershift Haven with a vampire at my side, chasing magical clues like it’s a normal Friday night.

We reach the tower, which stands in majestic contrast to the swirling illusions overhead. Metal cogs bigger than car tires spin silently behind the tower’s transparent face. Lanterns bob around, guiding other teams. Several pairs crowd near the base, reading the parchment pinned to the clocktower.

“Within the ringing of midnight’s tower,

Seek the shape that holds time’s power.

Count gears of gold and name them all—

Share the sum or watch them fall.”

She points upward. “We need to identify every gold gear up there. That means we’re climbing, right?”

I glance at the spiral staircase snaking up the tower’s interior. “Uh, yeah, guess so.”

“Better than letting someone else claim the prize first.” She flashes a grin that lights something inside me. Maybe it’s the festival, or maybe it’s her. Either way, I’m not about to back down.

We slip in through an arched door. The tower’s interior hums with clockwork. A slow, rhythmic whirr resonates in my chest. A flicker of excitement breaks past my frustration. I’ve always enjoyed challenges, and I guess you can’t get more challenging than a magical gear-counting puzzle.

Vandria leads the way up the stairs, footsteps echoing on iron steps. Partway up, we pass a sign that reads No Unauthorized Tampering in shifting script. Someone’s scrawled “Good luck, lovebirds,” underneath. Vandria laughs softly when she sees it, but she doesn’t comment.

We reach a broad landing where giant cogs mesh in front of a window. Each gear is a different shade of gold, silver, or bronze, all spinning in hypnotic precision. She pulls out a small notepad and scribbles tallies.

I inch closer, counting each golden cog through the tinted glass. The tower’s mechanical heart thrums steadily. My shoulder brushes Vandria’s, and that faint contact sends a jolt down my spine.

After a minute, we compare notes. Vandria’s brow furrows. “I see fifteen. You?”

“Fourteen,” I say. “Where’s your extra gear?”

She points to a partially obscured cog behind a bigger one. Leaning in, we both peer through a narrow gap in the machinery. The space is so tight, our arms press together. My heartbeat stutters. She tips her head, nearly brushing my cheek. “See it?”

My voice drops. “Yeah, you’re right. Fifteen.”

Her smile warms me in an unsettling, pleasant way. “Let’s hope that’s correct. Now we sho—”

A swirl of pink confetti flutters down from an overhead vent. We jump back, startled. Then we exchange a look and burst into unexpected laughter. Something about the absurdity deflates my tension.

I clear my throat, stepping away. “We’ll go with fifteen. Next clue says we name them all to someone. Probably the caretaker, Chronos Ticktock?”

She nods. “There’s a kiosk on the ground floor. Let’s go.”

We head back down, passing other teams struggling to see behind gears. Outside at the kiosk, a clockwork golem wearing a vest of brass plates awaits. Its mechanical eyes whirl with a gentle hum.

I steel myself. “Fifteen gold gears, right?”

The golem’s mouth opens with a clicking sound. “Correct. Please proceed to your next clue.” A miniature door slides open in its chest, presenting us with a sealed envelope.

Vandria snatches it, scanning it quickly. “We need to head across town to the restaurant. “Beastly Bites,” and something about an enchanted kitten. Let’s move.”

We jog off, the golden lantern flickering in enthusiasm at my shoulder. A competitive urge flares in me, surprising in its intensity. Maybe I want to prove I’m not just a surly outsider, or maybe I’m enjoying the challenge more than I’ll admit. Either way, Vandria’s right by my side, matching my pace stride for stride.

“BEASTLY BITES” IS BUSTLING with festival-goers grabbing dinner. We slip around the corner to find a smaller courtyard, following the riddle’s instructions. “Seek the creature that darts through flame. Catch the stolen clue and make your claim.”

“Darts through flame?” I mutter. “Some kind of fire spirit?”

We spot a tiny kitten on the patio, tail aflame with harmless purple fire. Its big eyes fix on us. Then it meows, dashes over, and snags a scrap of parchment from Vandria’s belt with its teeth. Before either of us can react, it blinks out of sight, reappearing on a balcony ledge above.

Vandria stifles laughter. “Teleporting feline. Perfect.”

I roll my shoulders, locking onto the cat. “I got this.”

The next few minutes are a series of humiliations. Each time I edge close, it teleports behind me or onto a higher ledge, flicking its flaming tail tauntingly. The courtyard crowd giggles as I scramble after it.

At last, Vandria stands in the center of the patio, arms folded, a sly grin on her face. “That’s not working. Let me try.”

She crouches, extending a hand. In a coaxing tone, she whispers nonsense words. The kitten cocks its head. Slowly, it teleports down, touches her hand with its little nose, and purrs. Vandria strokes its ears, retrieving the stolen note.

I watch, half-exasperated, half-impressed. “Good job.”

She laughs. “It’s the vampire charm.”

I straighten. “I thought you said you’re just another species?”

She sends me a wicked grin. “Yep. A species that can be very persuasive.”

She hands me the clue. I try not to think too hard about how her eyes can do that to me too.

We hurry to the next location. According to the note, we must find a riddle hidden in the “Moonlit Inn’s” library. The hallways are quieter now that most folks are out hunting clues. Candlelit sconces cast flickering shadows on the wood-paneled walls. My footsteps slow as we approach a large door labeled Private Reading Room.

Inside, rows of ancient books line tall shelves, and a battered table stands in the center. A single open tome rests there, glowing faintly. Vandria glances at me. “Looks like our riddle.”

We inch closer, each leaning over a corner of the table. The text shimmers, reorganizing into a new message.

When dawn meets dusk in whispered hush,

Look to the lines that hold the rush.

Find the phrase the lover penned,

Say it aloud, your heartbreak to mend.

I blow out a breath, scanning the old book. It’s a romantic epic about star-crossed lovers in a magical realm. Vandria flips pages. Our heads practically bump as we skim lines. Heat creeps up my neck, aware of how close we are. She murmurs directions, pointing to passages in a swirling language that half translates itself.

Finally, she finds a phrase in bold. “We’re bound by fate, yet free to choose.”

My pulse trips in my chest. Something about the line resonates too closely with my current situation. Her mouth curves into the barest smile before she whispers the phrase, “We’re bound by fate, yet free to choose.”

The text in the tome flashes gold. A new scrap of parchment unfurls from between the pages, falling into my hand. My heart races, though I can’t name why. Maybe it’s her intoxicating proximity, or the riddles that keep hinting at destiny. Either way, I’m relieved when we gather up the clue and hurry out of the room.

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 WE jog 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?”

She tilts her head. “Might cause more trouble. The bookstore is warded. Kicking in a door might set off enchantments.”

My shoulders sag. “Great.”

She steps closer, calm despite the predicament. The single candle flickers, reflecting in her eyes. “We might have to wait it out. Magically locked rooms eventually open, but it could be half an hour or hours.”

My chest tightens. “This is ridiculous.”

She places a hand on my arm. “Deep breaths. We’ll be fine.”

I swallow, trying to steady my pulse. The swirl of adrenaline from the scavenger hunt still courses through me, but there’s nowhere to channel it. The golden lantern that’s been haunting me all day floats in, bobbing near the ceiling.

She picks up a trio of stubby candles from a shelf, ignites them with a whispered word, and hands me one. I crouch and set it on an overturned crate. Warm light spreads over the space, revealing a cleared patch of floor with a couple of pillows, maybe left over from some reading circle. Musty but serviceable.

She lowers herself onto a pillow, folds her legs, and gestures for me to join. “We might as well get comfortable.”

My laugh comes out ragged. “Sure, why not?”

I sink onto the other pillow, the tension in my muscles refusing to leave. She offers a small, sympathetic smile, and that knot in my chest loosens a fraction. The door is locked, the festival roars on without us, and I’m stuck in a small, candlelit corner of a bookstore with a vampire. The thought should drive me crazy. Instead, it leaves me feeling oddly safe.

“It’s fine,” she says softly. “We’ll wait.”

I nod, swallowing. “All right. Let’s wait.”

A moment passes, thick with unspoken tension. She reaches for a spare blanket draped on a crate, spreads it over the dusty floor, and gestures for me to scoot in. My pulse flutters again. There’s nothing else to do but settle in.