Chapter 3
Chapter
Three
Maximus leaves me in the medical facility with instructions to rest, which is hilarious considering I've been a vampire for eight months and still don't entirely understand what "rest" means anymore.
I don't sleep the way I used to. It's more like… shutting down. Going dormant. My body enters a state somewhere between sleep and death, and I wake up feeling neither refreshed nor tired. Just… existing.
But I'm not ready to shut down yet. Not here, in a stranger's compound, no matter how fancy the medical equipment or how clean the blood supply.
I swing my legs off the table and stand carefully. The room tilts slightly, but nowhere near as bad as before. The second bag of clean blood did its job. I can feel my body repairing itself, vampire healing working the way it's supposed to when it has proper fuel.
The black veins under my skin have faded to faint shadows. If I weren't looking for them, I might miss them entirely. My strength is returning, that supernatural power that still feels foreign even after eight months. Like wearing someone else's body.
I explore the medical facility slowly, cataloging details the way I used to before fights. Know your environment. Identify exits. Understand the terrain.
The room is pristine, with white walls, stainless steel equipment, and everything organized with obsessive precision.
There's a sink in the corner, cabinets that probably contain medical supplies, and that refrigerator full of blood bags.
Each one is labeled with a date, blood type, and what looks like a donor ID number.
This isn't some makeshift operation. This is a system. Infrastructure. The kind of thing that takes years, maybe decades, to build.
How powerful is Maximus, exactly?
I move to the door and press my ear against it. Vampire hearing picks up sounds from deeper in the building. Footsteps. Voices too low to make out words. The hum of climate control systems.
The door isn't locked.
That surprises me more than it should. He told me not to leave, but he didn't actually restrain me. Either he's confident I won't try to escape, or he's confident he could stop me if I did.
Probably both.
I crack the door open and peer into the hallway. Empty. The floor is the same black and white marble as the foyer, lit by recessed lighting that's probably on automated timers.
Everything about this place screams money, power, and control.
I step into the hallway, closing the door quietly behind me. I'm not trying to escape. Where would I even go? But I need to understand where I am. What I've agreed to.
The hallway extends in both directions. To the left, it leads back toward the foyer I remember from when we arrived. To the right, it continues deeper into the building, with multiple doors branching off.
I go right.
The first door I pass is closed, but there's a small window set into it. I peek through and see what looks like a server room, rows of equipment with blinking lights, climate-controlled, and humming with power. Serious tech. Not what I expected in a vampire's compound.
The second door is open, revealing a library. Floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, a rolling ladder, and leather chairs positioned near a fireplace that's currently dark. The books look old, like, really old. Leather-bound volumes with titles in languages I don't recognize.
How long does it take to collect a library like this? Centuries, probably.
"You were told to rest."
I spin around, my body automatically dropping into a defensive stance before I can stop myself.
The man standing behind me is massive. Six-foot-four at least, built like he could bench press a car. Dark skin, close-cropped hair, and dark brown eyes that assess me with the cold calculation of someone who's decided I'm a potential threat.
He's also a vampire. I can feel it now that I'm paying attention, that sense of recognition, like my body knows it's in the presence of another predator.
"And you are?" I ask, straightening but not relaxing.
"Marcellus. Maximus's second-in-command." His voice is deep, with an accent I can't quite place. Old world. European, maybe. "You should be in the medical facility."
"I was. It got boring."
His expression doesn't change. "Return to the medical facility."
"Or what?"
"Or I will escort you there. Forcibly, if necessary."
I believe him. There's no bluster in his tone, no ego. Just a statement of fact. He's bigger than me, probably stronger, and definitely has more experience.
But I've fought people bigger than me before. Size isn't everything.
"Maximus said I'd be working off my debt," I say, keeping my voice level. "That makes me an employee, not a prisoner. So unless there's a specific reason I need to be locked in that room, I'm going to explore my new workplace."
Marcellus studies me for a long moment. I can almost see him calculating, is subduing me worth the effort?
"Stay out of Maximus's private quarters," he finally says. "Stay out of the donor areas. Stay out of the security center. Everywhere else, you're free to explore until he returns."
"Where is he?"
"That's not your concern."
Fair enough.
Marcellus turns and walks away, his footsteps silent despite his size. I watch him disappear around a corner.
I continue my exploration, more carefully now. The compound is massive, corridors branching off into wings, staircases leading to upper floors. Everything is pristine, organized, controlled. Like Maximus himself.
I find a training room on the ground floor and pause in the doorway. It's equipped better than any gym I've ever used: mats, weights, a boxing bag, and even weapons mounted on the walls. Swords, staffs, knives. All of them look functional, not decorative.
My fingers itch to test them. To move, to fight, to do something physical after lying on that medical table.
But I keep moving instead. There'll be time for training later.
I pass what looks like a dining room, formal, with a table that could seat twenty. Do vampires even use dining rooms? I guess if you're hundreds of years old, you keep up appearances.
Eventually, I find a sitting room with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the grounds. I can see gardens, perfectly manicured. Security lighting illuminates paths between hedges and fountains. The whole estate is probably walled, gated, and monitored.
A fortress disguised as a mansion.
I sink into one of the chairs, expensive leather, probably Italian, and stare out at the grounds.
What the hell am I doing here?
A few hours ago, I was dying in an alley. Now I'm sitting in a vampire lord's compound, having agreed to work off a debt I don't fully understand to a man I barely know.
My phone is still in my apartment. My clothes, my few possessions, everything I owned. Even if I could go back, Maximus knows where I live. If he wanted to kill me, he could have done it a dozen times over the last three days.
The fact that he didn't, that he watched me instead, learned about me, decided I was worth saving, that's what unsettles me most.
What does he want from me?
He said I was interesting. That I didn't beg. That I was useful.
But there's something else. Something in the way he looked at me in that alley. Like he recognized something.
"You must be Celeste."
I turn to find a woman standing in the doorway. Human, by the sound of her heartbeat. Mid-thirties, professionally dressed in slacks and a blouse, dark hair pulled back in a neat bun. She's pretty in an understated way, and her expression is cautiously friendly.
"I am," I confirm. "And you are?"
"Elena. I coordinate the donor network for Maximus." She steps into the room, maintaining a respectful distance. "I heard we had a new arrival. Wanted to introduce myself."
"The donor network," I repeat. "You manage the clean blood supply."
"Among other things. Vetting, scheduling, and health monitoring. Making sure our donors are safe and our vampires are fed." She smiles slightly. "It's more complicated than it sounds."
"I bet."
She settles into the chair across from me, crossing her legs. There's no fear in her body language, which is interesting. She works with vampires every day. Either she's incredibly brave or incredibly stupid.
"How are you feeling?" she asks. "Marcellus said you were badly contaminated."
"Better. The clean blood helped."
"You must not have been as bad as he thought to have cleared up so quickly.
" She pauses, frowning slightly. "Actually, Dr. Dalton mentioned something about your bloodwork.
He said the markers were unusual. Not bad, just..
. different from what he typically sees in fledglings.
" She shakes her head. "Anyway. I've been doing this for eight years.
We've had contaminated vampires brought to the containment wing before.
That's medical protocol. But I've never seen Maximus personally bring someone here as a guest. Give them free run of the compound. That never happens."
"He told me that."
"So you understand what it means."
"That he's making an exception. That I should be grateful and not cause trouble."
Elena laughs. "Something like that. But also… he doesn't make exceptions. Ever. So the fact that he made one for you? That's significant."
I don't know what to say to that.
"I'm not trying to make you uncomfortable," Elena continues. "Just… be careful. Maximus is…" She searches for words. "He's fair. Honorable, even by vampire standards. But he's also been alone for a very long time. He doesn't let people close. Doesn't trust easily."
"He watched me for three days before deciding whether to kill me or save me," I say dryly. "Trust isn't exactly his strong suit."
"No, it's not." Elena's expression softens. "But if he's given you a chance, he means it. Just don't make him regret it."
"Second person to tell me that today."
"Because it's true."
Before I can respond, a sound cuts through the building. A scream, raw, agonized, inhuman.