Chapter 4
Aster and Sylvia’s friendship had very few downsides. So few that Aster could count them on one hand.
Aster had lived long enough to know star signs weren’t just ways to sell horoscope magazines to insecure women. No, the tradition of following the stars had actually started with vampires; it was humans who took it and made it into subscription apps.
Historically, if another vampire was born in your season, under your star, it meant you were destined to be at each other's throats, one way or another. It meant that she and Sylvia shared strengths, and they also shared weaknesses.
They were both cocky. Sylvia more so. They were both loyal. Aster more so. They were both shitty at confrontation. Great at doing the confronting, terrible at being confronted.
Then there were their differences. Aster was born a human, and Sylvia was born a vampire. That meant that for nineteen years, they received completely different educations.
Aster learned how to harvest vegetables, and Sylvia learned how to command a room of ancient blood-sucking politicians.
Aster learned how to fear God, and Sylvia learned what it meant to bite.
Aster had been bitten only once in her life by another vampire—well, before Sylvia. It had been an older man, a stranger, one that belonged to Sylvia’s clan.
Aster had expunged his name and face from her mind, drowned it in the blood of every sick creature that belonged to the Maroven clan. All who she rid the Earth of, forever.
All except Sylvia.
This was all to say, she knew vampire bites to do three things—to turn someone, to kill them, or to enthrall them; to make them your slave.
There was apparently a fourth, non-lethal thing bites had the potential to do, one Sylvia had mentioned maybe twice in their six hundred years together, but she’d only ever referred to it as just that—a “fourth thing.”
She refused to elaborate, even back then.
Aster had deduced that it had something to do with sex. She only guessed this because of the way that Sylvia flushed whenever she brought it up, the way her hands got clammy, how her throat bobbed just a bit.
It seemed a reasonable explanation, at least superficially, that vampires might bite as some kind of erotic foreplay. Personally, she had never had the urge to do so; she wouldn’t want to risk creating a thrall out of a one-night-stand.
But now, all her plausible explanations seemed to faint and die when exposed to the oxygen of reality.
None of it added up in her head. Because sure, she could buy Sylvia’s explanation for biting her—she was hungry, the blood-bag blood was shitty and tasteless—but what didn’t make sense was how Aster had begun to feel in the aftermath.
These… bodily shocks, so to speak. Lethargy.
Faintness. Her heartbeat racketing in her chest like a heart-attack patient.
She knew what a panic attack felt like. That had not been a panic attack.
Aster knew that. Sylvia knew that. And yet.
She was being, per usual, a total asshole.
***
“I don’t get why you won’t just tell me about the fourth thing.”
“I don’t get why you won’t just tell me about the fourth thing,” Sylvia repeated mockingly, lowering her voice to an almost demonic grumble—a pitiful and frankly rude impersonation.
Aster nearly snarled in frustration as she tried to keep pace with the other vampire.
She kept losing track of her between the undulating packs of tourists and bank workers, a dust cloud of travel bags and well-ironed suits.
Sylvia was weaving like a bird through the crowds, stilettos tapping like percussion instruments on pavement.
Despite appearances, Sylvia wasn’t speed walking just for the purposes of being a dick.
It was half past ten, and they were late to work.
Sylvia would tell you it was because Aster would not stop pestering her; Aster would tell you it was because Sylvia would not stop evading her very reasonable questions.
Either way, the end result was the same.
The imposing facade of the VioCroft office materialized before them. Having jogged ahead of Aster to avoid further conversation, Sylvia yanked open the front doors of the office and—to Aster’s surprise—actually waited for her at the gates instead of rushing upstairs.
Of course, she had to ruin what minor goodwill she’d just gained by giving Aster a ridiculous bow. Like some kind of royal butler.
Aster just sighed, her fury drained by Sylvia’s idiocy.
“What on Earth are you doing?”
“Being a gentleman,” Sylvia said, tipping her head back up to bat her eyelashes at Aster. “Can’t have you handling heavy machinery. You might get all faint on me again.”
“By heavy machinery you mean the door?”
“It’s a pretty heavy door.”
And oh, Heaven have mercy—Sylvia was driving Aster absolutely insane.
The green eyed vampire was flip-flopping so quickly between charm and avoidance, humor and cruelty.
Aster had known her long enough to understand this was a symptom of Sylvia avoiding something, but what she was avoiding and why was completely alien to Aster. A big blank spot in her mind.
Sylvia gestured for Aster to go inside, but Aster shook her head.
“Sylvia.” She laid her hand over Sylvia’s warm knuckles. “We need to talk.”
Sylvia tried to pull away. “I’m good, actually—”
Oh, fuck it.
Keeping her hand firmly pressed to Sylvia’s, Aster’s pupils exploded into crimson. Her fangs dug against her gums. She stared straight into Sylvia’s eyes, and whispered a hint of Suggestion into them. A command. Listen to me, you idiot.
Sylvia snorted. Her pupils flared right back, and she smirked wildly. Aster felt a much larger punch of Suggestion pummel her in the gut. Like a tidal wave crashing on her sandcastle.
It said: We can talk about this later.
It was a true testament to just how powerful Sylvia was that all the fight immediately drained out of Aster’s body, replaced with a dull, agreeable apathy.
She nodded reluctantly, and they filed inside.
It wasn’t until lunch that Aster woke up from her Suggestion stupor.
It was like she’d been unknowingly towing around three hundred pounds of deadweight on her shoulders, only for someone to quietly inform her that she could just take it all off.
The spell slid off of her like a jacket, and her eyes widened, blinking at the short boy with curly-hair.
“...And that’s how I knew I was gay,” he said.
What the hell? Aster’s mind spun. How long was I out?
Wallace brushed a stray tear out from under his eye, then smiled at her softly.
“You’re such a good listener, Aster. Thank you for that.”
She blinked several times, then rubbed her own eyes. They felt so dry.
“Oh, don’t cry Aster. I know my coming out story is emotional, but…”
I’m not crying, you dipshit, is what Sylvia would have said, followed by and I really don’t care about your coming out story, but Aster was the nicer Leo, so she just stood, abruptly, and began to stalk towards the sound of Sylvia’s laugh—it was echoing from down the hall like a banshee’s wail.
Aster flung open several doors before she finally caught the right one.
“Sylvia—”
“Oh, Selene. You are a hoot.”
Aster stopped in her tracks. Sylvia was sitting on the meeting table, her leg draped over a chair, practically spread eagle.
A man in a tuxedo sat a few feet from her in an office chair, grinning like a wolf who had just snuck up on some livestock.
Aster recognized him immediately. The scruffy mustache, the toothpaste-white teeth, the gleaming blue eyes.
He looked straight out of a dental advertisement. Or maybe an Axe Body spray one.
“Ms. Valdez,” Sylvia gasped. “Do learn to knock, honey.”
The man, who was undoubtedly Tommy Ashcroft, looked her up and down shamelessly. “Oh it’s no problem at all Selene, I know how in-demand you are.”
Sylvia laughed again, but it was too civilized and polite to be genuine.
“Oh, Mr. Ashcroft—”
He waved her off. “It’s Tommy. Really.”
“Tommy. Where were we? Lunch tomorrow, right?”
The man hummed. Aster honed in on his eyes, expecting to see crimson.
Wait. Why are his eyes blue? Shouldn’t they be red?
It hit Aster like a freight train. Sylvia wasn’t manipulating him using her powers. She was doing it the old fashioned way, for whatever fucking reason. Plain old Maroven Charisma.
Probably just to see if she could. This absolute freak of nature.
“Tomorrow’s a little busy, but…” He began thumbing through his phone. Sylvia leaned forward and batted her eyelashes, kicked her heel against his leg playfully. This is literal, textbook workplace harassment. “You know what, I can move some things around.”
Sylvia clapped. “Brilliant! And you’ll invite Ms. Valdez, too?”
Both Aster and Tommy looked like she’d dumped a bucket of ice water on them.
“Huh?” they said in unison, looking at each other, then at Sylvia, who was completely unfazed. She just shrugged, and kept that easy, gorgeous smile on her face.
“I didn’t mean to overstep. I just think Ms. Valdez could offer some insightful perspectives on the topics we were planning to discuss.”
Tommy stared at Sylvia for several seconds, then laughed. “I’m sorry.... I just... Let me know if I’m hearing this right. You think the IT girl has some… insightful perspectives… on how to best conduct mass layoffs without hurting your company’s brand image?”
Oh my god.
It took everything within Aster not to laugh.
Here she had assumed that Sylvia had enticed the man with her sexuality. No, of course not. How outdated of Aster to guess that. They had simply bonded over being completely morally bankrupt assholes. 2025, baby. Equality for all.
“I love mass layoffs,” Aster said, because she couldn’t fucking help herself.
And maybe just a little bit because of the full-body smile Sylvia gave her afterwards.
***