23. The Truth
THE TRUTH
She couldn't stop seeing it.
Reign's face—his real face—twisted into something inhuman. His eyes glowing red in the darkness. His fangs sinking into that woman's neck. The blood pouring from the wound. The way he'd drunk from her like he was starving, like he couldn't stop, like it was the only thing that mattered.
The way he'd looked at Soreya afterward.
Like he'd been caught.
Like he was sorry.
Like he was a monster.
Soreya pressed her hands to her face, trying to breathe through the panic attack that had been building since she'd driven away from After Dark.
Her chest was tight. Her vision kept blurring.
Every time she closed her eyes, she saw him—covered in blood, standing over a corpse, looking at her with those glowing eyes.
What are you?
I'm a vampire.
The word didn't make sense. It couldn't be real. Vampires weren't real. They were stories, movies, Halloween costumes. They weren't—they couldn't be?—
But she'd seen it.
She'd seen him kill someone. Drain them. Drink their blood.
She'd seen what he really was.
Soreya's stomach lurched, and she scrambled to the toilet, dry-heaving because there was nothing left in her stomach to throw up. She'd already emptied it twice since getting to the motel. Her throat burned. Her whole body ached.
She didn't know how long she sat there on the cold tile floor, the shower still running, steam filling the small bathroom. Time felt meaningless. Everything felt meaningless.
Her phone buzzed on the counter.
She didn't look at it.
It had been buzzing nonstop since she'd left the club. Calls. Texts. Voicemails. All from Reign.
She couldn't answer. She couldn't talk to him. She couldn't?—
The phone buzzed again.
And again.
And again.
Soreya finally reached up, grabbed it, and looked at the screen through blurred vision.
Reign (4:11 AM): Baby please answer the phone
Reign (4:13 AM): I know you scared. I know what you saw. But please just let me explain
Reign (4:18 AM): Soreya I'm begging you. Just tell me where you at. I need to know you safe
Reign (4:24 AM): I went to your apartment. You not there. Where you at?
Reign (4:29 AM): Please don't shut me out. Not like this. I love you. That's the only thing that's real
Missed Call: Reign (4:31 AM)
Missed Call: Reign (4:32 AM)
Missed Call: Reign (4:33 AM)
Soreya's hands shook as she stared at the messages.
He was looking for her.
He was hunting her.
The thought made her blood run cold.
She turned off her phone, set it on the counter, and climbed into the shower fully clothed—leggings, hoodie, everything.
The hot water hit her like a physical force, soaking through her clothes, plastering her hair to her face.
She stood there under the spray, letting it burn her skin, trying to wash away the memory of what she'd seen.
But it wouldn't go away.
It was burned into her mind.
Reign Saint was a vampire.
And she'd been in love with him for six years without knowing.
By 5:47 AM, Soreya was sitting on the edge of the motel bed, wrapped in a scratchy towel, staring at the wall.
The room was small, depressing—beige walls, brown carpet with stains she didn't want to think about, a queen bed with a comforter that smelled faintly of cigarette smoke and industrial detergent.
The TV was bolted to the dresser. The air conditioner rattled in the window.
The bathroom light flickered every few seconds.
It was the kind of place that made you feel like you'd hit rock bottom.
And maybe she had.
Her phone was still off. She'd left it on the bathroom counter, too afraid to turn it back on, too afraid to see how many times he'd called.
She didn't know what to do.
She couldn't go home. Reign knew where she lived. He'd already been to her apartment looking for her.
She couldn't go to Vesper's. That would be the first place he'd check.
She couldn't go to her mama's house. How would she even explain this? Hey, Mama, my boyfriend's a vampire and I watched him kill someone tonight. Can I crash on your couch?
She was trapped.
Trapped in a cheap motel room with nowhere to go and no one to call.
Soreya pulled the towel tighter around herself and tried to think.
She needed to leave Richmond. Get out of the city. Go somewhere Reign couldn't find her. Maybe North Carolina. Maybe DC. Somewhere far enough that?—
A knock on the door made her jump so hard she almost fell off the bed.
Her heart slammed against her ribs.
She stared at the door, frozen.
Another knock. Louder this time.
"Housekeeping," a male voice called from the other side.
Soreya exhaled slowly. Housekeeping. It was just housekeeping.
She stood up, still wrapped in the towel, and walked toward the door. "I don't need?—"
She opened the door.
Reign was standing there.
Soreya's breath caught in her throat.
He looked—God, he looked like he'd been through hell.
He was still wearing the same clothes from earlier—black jeans, black hoodie, black leather jacket—but they were covered in blood. Dried blood on his hands, his jacket, his face. His hair was disheveled, his locs falling loose around his face. His eyes were bloodshot, exhausted, desperate.
He looked like a man who'd been searching for hours.
He looked like a monster who'd just killed someone.
Soreya took a step back, her hand flying to her mouth.
"Don't," she whispered. "Don't come near me."
Reign's expression shattered.
"Soreya—" His voice cracked. He held up his hands like he was trying to show her he wasn't a threat, but his hands were still stained with blood. "Baby, please. I just need five minutes. That's all I'm asking. Five minutes to explain."
"How did you find me?" Her voice was shaking so hard she could barely get the words out.
"I got people everywhere," Reign said quietly. "Cameras. Connections. I knew you'd go somewhere you could pay cash, somewhere off the main roads." He took a step closer to the doorway, and Soreya backed up further into the room. "Please. Just let me explain. Let me tell you the truth."
"I already know the truth!" Soreya's voice rose, hysteria creeping in. "You're a—you're a?—"
"A vampire," Reign finished for her. "Yeah. I am."
Hearing him say it out loud—hearing him confirm it again—made Soreya's knees buckle. She grabbed onto the edge of the dresser to keep from falling.
"I can't do this," she whispered. "I can't?—"
"Five minutes," Reign said, and his voice was so raw, so broken, that for a moment—just a moment—she almost believed he was still the man she'd loved.
"That's all I'm asking, Soreya. Five minutes.
And if you still want me to leave after that, I'll go.
I swear to God, I'll leave and you'll never see me again. "
Soreya stared at him, her whole body trembling.
She should slam the door in his face. She should call the police. She should run.
But she didn't.
Because underneath the terror, underneath the horror of what she'd seen, there was still a part of her—a stupid, desperate, broken part of her—that wanted answers.
That needed to understand.
"Five minutes," she said finally, her voice barely audible. "And you stay by the door. You don't come near me."
Reign nodded, relief flooding his face. "Aight. I won't move. I promise."
Soreya stepped back, pressing herself against the far wall, as far from him as she could get in the small room.
Reign stepped inside and closed the door behind him.
For a long moment, neither of them spoke.
Reign stood by the door, his hands at his sides, his whole body vibrating with tension. Soreya stood against the wall, wrapped in a towel, her arms crossed over her chest like she was trying to hold herself together.
The silence was suffocating.
Finally, Reign spoke.
"I'm not twenty-nine," he said quietly.
Soreya blinked. "What?"
"I'm not twenty-nine. That's what my ID says, but it's a lie." He ran a hand over his face, exhaustion written into every line of his expression. "I was born in 1847. I'm a hundred and seventy-six years old."
Soreya's vision blurred.
"That's—that's not possible."
"It is if you a vampire." Reign's voice was steady now, controlled, like he was trying to keep himself together. "I was turned when I was twenty-nine. Been that age ever since."
"Turned," Soreya repeated, her voice hollow. "By who?"
"Cairo. My uncle." Reign leaned back against the door, his eyes never leaving hers. "He the one who built the Saint family. He the patriarch. He been around since the 1600s. He turned me, Soleil, Sevyn—all of us. We his bloodline."
Soreya's stomach twisted.
"Your whole family," she whispered. "Your whole family is?—"
"Vampires. Yeah." Reign's jaw tightened. "We run the nightlife in Richmond. The clubs, the lounges, the after-hours spots. It's all feeding grounds. It's all territory. We control it, we protect it, and we use it to survive."
"Feeding grounds," Soreya said, and the words tasted like poison in her mouth. "You've been feeding on people. All this time."
"Yeah."
"How many?"
Reign hesitated. "I don't know. A lot."
"A lot," Soreya repeated, her voice rising. "You don't even know how many people you've?—"
"I never killed nobody who didn't deserve it," Reign said quickly. "I never forced nobody. The women I feed from—they consent. They know what I am. They get paid, they get protection, they get whatever they need. It's transactional."
"Transactional," Soreya said, and she laughed—a broken, hysterical sound. "You make it sound like a business deal."
"It is a business deal." Reign's voice was hard now. "That's how we survive, Soreya. We don't kill innocent people. We don't drain random civilians. We feed from people who understand the exchange. People who benefit from it."
"And the woman I saw you kill tonight?" Soreya's voice cracked. "Did she consent to that?"
Reign's expression darkened.
"She was sent by Noctis—a rival vampire family—to kill me. She was gonna kill you too if I didn't stop her." His voice dropped lower, more dangerous. "So yeah, I killed her. And I'd do it again."
Soreya pressed her hands to her face, trying to process what he was saying.