CHAPTER 23
POPPY
There’s something deeply surreal about sipping champagne at a poolside bachelorette party while two vampires pretend to be normal resort guests.
Elena has been “reading” the same page in her book for forty minutes.
I’m not even sure she’s noticed it’s upside down.
Sofia is doing yoga on a mat near the entrance, holding poses that would make my muscles scream after thirty seconds.
She’s been in the same one for fifteen minutes without so much as a wobble.
Meanwhile, I’m surrounded by Violet’s college friends, all of whom are at various stages of tipsy and very interested in my love life.
“So the video,” says Madison—or maybe Morgan, I’ve lost track. “The one where he carries you into the ocean? That has like two million views now.”
“Two million?” I nearly choke on my champagne.
“Girl, you’re trending. #MysteryMan is everywhere.” She fans herself dramatically. “Where did you find him? Is he real? More importantly, does he have brothers?”
“We met on a dating app,” I say, which is technically not a lie. “And yes, he has brothers, but I haven’t met them yet.”
“Dating app?” Another bridesmaid—not sure of her name either—shakes her head. “I’ve been on every dating app in existence and the best I’ve found is a guy who listed ‘breathing’ as a hobby. Meanwhile, you get... that.”
She points to a picture of Julian on the phone, with “that” of course being Julian. Mysterious billionaire. Secret vampire. Currently watching me because he’s incapable of not worrying.
“I guess I got lucky,” I manage.
“Lucky?” Madison-or-Morgan snorts. “That’s one word for it. The way he looked at you in that video? Like you were the only person on the entire beach? I would commit crimes for a man to look at me like that.”
I think about Julian’s eyes. The way they track me across rooms. The way they soften when I say something that surprises him. The way they went dark and desperate when he told me the truth about what he was.
“It’s intense,” I admit. “And sweet.”
“Intense as in hot? Or intense as in concerning?”
“Both? Neither?” I take another sip of champagne. “It’s complicated.”
“Complicated how?”
How do I even begin to answer that? Complicated like he’s two hundred and fifty-seven years old. Complicated like he drinks blood to survive. Complicated like his oldest friend wants to destroy him by destroying me, and that friend is probably watching us right now.
“Just... complicated,” I say. “Wedding stress. You know how it is.”
Violet appears beside me, refilling my glass without asking. She’s glowing—that pre-wedding radiance that makes her look like she stepped out of a bridal magazine. Even with her hair in a messy bun, she looks perfect.
“Maddie, stop interrogating my sister,” she tells the bridesmaids—and helps me remember one of their names. “She’s entitled to some mystery.”
“We’re not interrogating. We’re curious.”
“Is that the same thing with both of you?” Violet settles onto the lounge chair beside me. “How are you doing? You’ve been quiet.”
“I’m fine. Just tired.”
“Tired or worried?”
I look at her. My perfect sister with her perfect life and her perfect fiancé. She has no idea what’s circling us right now. No idea that the sunny poolside paradise she’s enjoying is under surveillance by creatures that shouldn’t exist.
For a moment I consider lying, but no matter what, Vi can always tell when I’m worried. It’s like her “Spidey Sense.” So I try to hide it by sprinkling in some truth.
“Both,” I admit. “But it’s nothing you need to worry about. This is your weekend.”
“Poppy.” She lowers her voice. “What’s going on?”
Everything in me wants to brush it off, protect her from everything the way Julian tried to protect me.
But I don’t think I can muster up the energy to give her the performance she’ll need to get off my back.
“I’ll explain after the wedding,” I say. “I promise. Just—just trust that I’m handling it.”
“Handling what?”
“Vi.” I take her hand. “Please. Not now. Not today. Let me deal with this, and I’ll tell you everything once you’re married and on your honeymoon and too happy to care.”
She studies me, weighing whether to push and demand answers, go full big-sister mode, refusing to let it go, or get back to focusing on the biggest day of her life.
Then she squeezes my hand.
“Okay,” she says. “But if you need me—”
“I know. I know. I swear I’ll get you if I need you.” I cross my heart with my hand. “Promise.”
“And hope to die?” She doesn’t even know how close she is to the truth on that one.
“And hope not to die.”
“What are you doing?” She playfully swats my arm. “You just can’t go and change the saying.”
“Have you ever thought how morbid that sounds?”
“It is pretty creepy, isn’t it?”
“Yes. Very much so.”
“Okay, then a promise it is.”
She smiles before she gets pulled away by a bridesmaid who needs help with sunscreen application. I’m not sure of her name either. Bonnie, maybe. Or Brianna. Wow, I really need to learn my sister’s friends’ names.
I watch her leave. Think about how different our lives are. How different they’ve always been. Violet saves lives in operating rooms. I post photos of my breakfast and call it a career.
But right now, in this moment, I’m the one protecting her. Even if she doesn’t know it.
My phone buzzes.
SAGE: Update please
SAGE: I’ve been patient for THREE HOURS
SAGE: That’s like a year in Sage time
I type back quickly:
ME: Still at pool party. Still alive.
SAGE: That’s a weirdly specific reassurance
ME: Wedding stress makes me dramatic
SAGE: You’re ALWAYS dramatic
SAGE: It’s part of your charm
ME: Rude but fair
SAGE: How’s that hunk of a vampire boyfriend doing?
I nearly drop my phone.
ME: What???
SAGE: Did my BFF lose her sense of humor?
SAGE: Hahaha
SAGE: Obvs a JOKE
SAGE: At least the vampire part
SAGE: Not the other
SAGE: He’s a total hunk!!
SAGE: But he never eats and he’s always cold and he says old timey thing
SAGE: Just saying
SAGE: Does he sparkle in the daylight?
ME: This isn’t Twilight
SAGE: Mmmm... Edward
SAGE: I’d love me some of that tasty vampire
ME: You’re ridiculous
SAGE: You know you’d totally date a vampire if he looked like Robert Pattinson
SAGE: Or Julian ;)
ME: I’m not sure that deserves a response
SAGE: That’s EXACTLY what someone dating a vampire would say
ME: I’m hanging up
SAGE: We’re not on the phone
ME: Metaphorically hanging up
SAGE: Call me tonight. For real. I need to hear your voice and confirm you haven’t been turned into a creature of the night.
ME: I promise I will call you tonight and confirm my continued humanity
SAGE: That’s all I ask
SAGE: Love you, weirdo
ME: Love you too
I take a long breath. Sage is way too perceptive for her own good.
Although “my boyfriend is a vampire and his vengeful progeny is stalking us” probably isn’t the conclusion she’d reach. Even Sage has limits to her imagination.
Damien is somewhere on this resort. Watching. Waiting. Planning something terrible.
And I’m at a pool party pretending to have fun. I should be keeping up appearances, so I take a photo. Force myself to smile. Angle the camera to catch the palm trees and the turquoise water and the picture-perfect paradise that doesn’t feel like paradise at all right now.
The photo looks great.
I look happy.
The lie is so complete I almost believe it myself.
What I could post: “Pool day with my girls! ?? Nothing but good vibes and great company!”
What’s actually happening: Two vampires are positioned around this pool watching for another vampire who wants to destroy everyone I love, and I’m one wrong move away from a supernatural incident at my sister’s bachelorette party.
The algorithm wouldn’t know what to do with that.
First line it is!
Post done.
Madison-or-Morgan—I know Vi just said it, but it’s already gone—splashes past me, shrieking about the water temperature. Two of the other bridesmaids are taking selfies by the swim-up bar. Someone hands me another glass of champagne that I definitely shouldn’t drink.
I sip. Look up. And freeze.
He’s here.
“Everyone.” Julian breaks in on my earpiece. “He’s here. East path, approaching the pool bar.”
Damien is walking along the path toward the pool bar. Casual. Unhurried. Wearing the kind of resort outfit that costs a fortune and blends in with any other wealthy guest enjoying a tropical afternoon.
He looks like a man who has all the time in the world.
Because he does. He’s had a hundred and forty-six years to plan this moment.
I see Elena close her book. See Sofia shift her weight, ready to move. They’ve spotted him, too. They’re tracking his approach with the focused attention of predators sizing up prey.
“We see him.” Sofia’s voice is tense. “Orders?”
Damien spots every single one of them.
“Hold position,” Julian responds. “Let him approach. Don’t intervene unless he tries to harm her.”
It was hard for him to say that last part.
Then Damien walks toward me, and my earpiece cuts out.
There’s a team of vampires watching me, but I feel all alone.
My heart is pounding. My hands want to shake. Every instinct screams at me to run, to call for help, to do anything other than sit here and wait for that monster to reach me.
But I don’t run.
I set down my champagne glass. Remove my sunglasses. Meet his eyes as he approaches.
If I’m going to face this, I’m going to face it head-on.
Damien sits on the lounge chair beside me, casual as anything. Like we’re old friends catching up. Like he wasn’t threatening Julian to hurt me.
“We should talk,” he says. “About Julian. The real Julian.”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“Please.” His smile has an edge. “Drop the pretense. I know he told you what he is. The question is whether he’s told you everything.”
I keep my voice steady. Barely. “What do you want?”
“To tell you a story.” He places his drink on the table next to him. “About a woman named Katya.”
The woman Damien loved. The woman whose death started all of this.
“I’m listening,” I say.