Chapter 25
Chapter
Twenty-Five
The gravel driveway curved through manicured woodland for nearly a quarter mile before the main building came into view in the headlights of Viktor's car.
A little while later they stopped in front of what looked like a cross between a nineteenth-century manor house and a yoga influencer's fever dream.
"Reconnect Retreat," Charlie read from the tastefully weathered wooden sign. "Digital Wellness & Authentic Living."
"Subtle, right?" Viktor killed the engine. "Nothing keeps mortals away like the threat of having to disconnect from their phones."
Charlie nodded distractedly while he studied the building, looking at the ivy that crawled up the brick walls. "You sure about this?"
"These aren't regular vampires." Viktor's fingers drummed against the steering wheel. "We'll be okay here."
Before Charlie could ask more questions, the massive front door opened. A woman in linen pants and a cream sweater glided down the steps. She looked to be in her mid-forties and her heartbeat sounded human.
"Welcome to Reconnect!" She smiled brightly. "I'm Sage. You must be Viktor's friend."
Charlie climbed out of the car, immediately aware of his borrowed clothes and the faint smell of rabbit that still clung to him somehow. "Charlie."
"Wonderful. We're so pleased you're joining us for this journey back to authentic connection." Sage's eyes swept over him with the practiced assessment of someone who'd worked customer service for years. "First time?"
"Yeah."
"You'll love it here. We're all about stripping away the artificial barriers modern life creates." She held out a small linen bag. "Phones, tablets, any devices go in here. Part of the digital detox."
Charlie pulled out his dead phone, its black screen reflecting nothing. "It's already pretty detoxed."
Sage laughed. "Perfect. You're ahead of the curve."
Viktor handed over his phone as well, without comment.
Sage offered another smile. "Now, let me show you to registration." She led them through the doorway into a large foyer with dark wood paneling and white expensive-looking rugs.
The registration desk looked like an antique. Another human girl sat behind it, this one younger, with the dead eyes of someone who'd expected way more from adulthood than this.
"Charlie and Viktor, checking in for our..." Sage paused delicately, "evening program."
The girl's fingers flew across a tablet that looked completely out of place in this resort. "Ah," she murmured. "The Lunar Cohort. Room twelve for Mr. Charlie, and Viktor, you're back in seven."
The girl slid two old-fashioned keys across the desk. Actual keys, not cards.
Sage clasped her hands together. "Dinner service begins at nine.
We align our meals with natural digestive rhythms here.
The Lunar Cohort has exclusive use of the east dining room.
" Her smile never wavered. "You'll find your cohort in the library.
Integration activities don't begin until ten, but informal socializing is encouraged. "
She glided away, leaving Charlie standing in the large foyer holding a key with a brass tag.
"Lunar Cohort?" Charlie muttered to Viktor.
"Code for 'actually we're all vampires but the human staff doesn't need to know that.'" Viktor pocketed his key. "Come on. Let's see who else is here."
The library was at the back of the house, its tall walls covered in book shelves that were stacked to the brim. The rest of the space had been furnished with cozy armchairs and small tables and small lamps that dipped the room in a warm but not too-bright glow.
Three people looked up as they entered.
Three vampires. Charlie could tell immediately, but instead of the sneering superiority he'd come to expect, one of them waved.
"New blood!" The waver was a Black woman who looked about thirty, wearing paint-splattered jeans and a Harvard sweatshirt. "Sorry, terrible joke. I'm Maya."
"Charlie."
"And Viktor's back." This from a man who could have been anywhere from twenty-five to two hundred, sprawled in a wingback chair with a book. "Thought you'd sworn off group therapy."
"Charlie needed somewhere safe." Viktor's tone carried a warning.
The third vampire, a guy with aggressively normal suburban dad energy looked up from the coffee table where he was... was that a jigsaw puzzle?
"Safe is relative," he said. "But yeah, safer than out there. I'm Connor."
Maya patted the couch beside her. "Sit. Tell us your tragic backstory. We're all about oversharing here."
Charlie perched on the edge of the couch. "I don't really have a tragic backstory."
"Bullshit." But Maya said it kindly. "Nobody ends up at vampire rehab without drama."
"It's not rehab," Connor said without looking up from his puzzle. "It's a 'restorative community for mindful integration.'"
"You memorized the brochure?" Maya laughed. "That's the most Connor thing ever."
Charlie found himself relaxing fractionally. These vampires weren't circling him like prey or sneering at his existence. They were just... there. Being normal.
Well, as normal as vampires doing jigsaw puzzles could be.
"So what's your thing?" Maya asked. "We've all got a thing. Connor can't handle blood if it's not exactly body temperature. Makes him gag."
"It's a texture thing," Connor muttered, fitting another puzzle piece.
"And I grow things." Maya gestured vaguely toward the window. "Turns out vampires can have green thumbs. Who knew? I like to grow blood oranges, because I think I'm hilarious."
The book reader—he still hadn't introduced himself—looked up. "Thomas. I make furniture. Keeps the hands busy, keeps the mind quiet."
"That's nice," Viktor said. "Charlie's still figuring out his thing."
"I faint at the sight of blood." The words tumbled out before Charlie could stop them. He waited for the laughter, the disgust, the familiar contempt.
Instead, Maya brightened. "Oh my god, finally! Someone else!"
Charlie blinked. "You too?"
"Not anymore, but my first three months? I was a total disaster. I just kept passing out mid-feed if you can believe it!" She leaned forward conspiratorially. "There's actually a whole section in the library here about vasovagal responses in new vampires. Super common, just nobody talks about it."
"Because it's embarrassing," Connor added, still focused on his puzzle. "Growing pains. Like how I threw up the first six times I tried to drink blood."
"Or how I couldn't retract my fangs for two weeks," Thomas said. "I had to learn to talk around them. I swear I sounded like I had the world's worst lisp."
Charlie stared at them. "But... other vampires I've met made it seem like I was broken. Like I was insulting the species by existing."
Maya's expression darkened. "Yeah, there's a lot of those assholes out there.
The ones who think being turned makes them superior, not just different.
" She shrugged. "That's why places like this exist. For those of us who didn't get the memo that vampirism was supposed to turn us into pretentious dickheads. "
"Speaking of which," Thomas closed his book, "dinner should be starting soon. Fair warning, Charlie, the presentation here is intense."
"Presentation?"
Connor finally looked up from his puzzle. "They treat blood like it's wine service at a Michelin star restaurant. It's a little much if you ask me."
"But it works," Maya admitted. "Whatever they're doing, it makes it easier. Even for those of us with... complications."
A soft chime echoed through the house.
"Dinner bell." Viktor stood. "Come on, Charlie. Let's see if the east dining room is as pretentious as I remember."
It was worse.
The dining room looked like something from a period drama—candlelit despite the electric sconces, long mahogany table set with actual china and crystal. Each place setting had three different glasses.
"Why three glasses?" Charlie whispered to Viktor.
"Different types. You'll see."
More vampires filtered in. An elderly woman who moved like a dancer, twin brothers who couldn't have been older than nineteen when turned, a middle-aged man in a cardigan who looked like he should be teaching high school English.
Nobody stared at Charlie. Nobody sneered. They just took their seats, continuing quiet conversations.
A door at the far end opened, and staff emerged carrying covered silver trays. Human staff, Charlie noted, but they didn't seem scared in the least.
"Good evening, everyone." A woman who could have been Sage's sister addressed the room. "Tonight's selection includes Type O positive from our Pacific Northwest collection, AB negative from our Midwest reserve, and a special treat: B positive from our Mediterranean series."
Charlie watched in fascination as she lifted the covers with a flourish. Crystal decanters filled with blood, each a slightly different shade of red. The smell hit immediately, rich and complex and nothing like the medical blood bags he'd expected.
He could almost fool himself into believing that it actually was wine.
In any case, his brain was sufficiently tricked for him not to faint at the sight of so much blood.
"The O positive has notes of iron and earth, excellent body, pairs well with contemplative evening activities.
" The woman at the front poured a small amount into the leftmost glass at each setting.
"The AB negative is lighter, almost floral, perfect for those seeking clarity.
And the B positive..." She smiled. "Sun-warmed stones and herbs.
Our donors follow a specific diet to achieve this profile. "
"Donors?" Charlie asked before he could stop himself.
The woman's smile never wavered. "Of course. All our blood comes from willing donors who are compensated generously for their contributions. We maintain the highest ethical standards."
Maya leaned over. "They have a whole program. People sign up, get health screenings, and donate on a schedule. Like a very exclusive, very expensive plasma center."
It sounded too good to be true.