Chapter 11 #2
“Great,” I muttered. “Now you’ve offended the vampire and the spirits. Fantastic work, Lena.”
But she was already at the coffee table, setting the board down, muttering to herself about ‘ambiance’ while nearly setting her sleeve on fire.
I gestured at her with my wineglass. “And that, ladies and gentlemen, is the woman who’s supposed to save your life in an emergency.”
Lena didn’t look up. “Technically, I just stabilize them until someone who gets paid more shows up.”
“Well, that’s comforting.”
I knew I wouldn’t be getting out of this, so I downed the last of my wine, poured myself another, and took a seat at the table of death.
Cristian’s eyes followed Lena’s movements, then flicked to me.
I could feel the bond tugging faintly at my chest—awareness pulling us closer even when I wanted to stay still.
Lena was in her most chaotic energy. Me, nervous but pretending otherwise. Cristian, hovering just behind me, arms folded.
“Spirits of the beyond,” Lena said dramatically, “give us a sign!”
At first, nothing. Then the air shifted. The chandelier gave a faint groan. One candle flickered.
I froze. “Lena—”
“It’s working,” she whispered.
“No, it’s just—”
The planchette moved.
I jerked my hands away. “Did you do that?”
Lena grinned. “Obviously not. It’s him.” She pointed at Cristian.
He looked insulted. “I am not touching it.”
The planchette slid again, slowly, deliberately. My stomach tightened. I laughed, because that’s what my brain did when it was two seconds from panic.
Cristian leaned forward, eyes narrowed. “Something is wrong.”
“Oh, great,” I said. “The immortal bloodsucker says something is wrong. That’s comforting.”
Before anyone could move, the board vibrated under our hands, and the candles went out. Darkness rushed in. Then came a sound from upstairs—a loud crack, like something heavy falling.
Lena screamed. I grabbed the table. Cristian was already beside me before I could blink. He caught my hand, pulling me back against his chest as glass shattered somewhere near the window.
The bond between us flared, hot and alive. My fear melted under it, replaced by something that made it hard to breathe.
“Don’t worry about me,” Lena said, her voice wobbly. “I’m fine. Really fine. Just stay where you are.”
Cristian’s arm tightened around me. “The air shifted,” he murmured against my ear. “That was no friendly ghost.”
“Comforting,” I whispered. My voice didn’t sound like my own.
Lena peeked over the table and saw us. “Oh my god. Are you two seriously doing this right now?”
“What?” I said, still pressed to Cristian’s chest.
“This whole smoldering, bodyguard-meets-bonded-lovers thing. It’s unholy. Get a room. Or don’t.” She grinned, half-hysterical. “Actually, go ahead, I wouldn’t mind watching.”
“Lena,” I hissed.
Cristian looked down at me. His gaze was unreadable, his lips too close. “Your friend is unwell.”
“Yeah,” I whispered. “I like them a little crazy.”
He didn’t move. Neither did I. The house creaked again. “I am a third-grade teacher. I am not qualified for ghost management. Fix it, Lena!”
Lena exhaled loudly. “Okay. Séance over. Spirits, go back to your haunted nine-to-five or whatever you do.”
Cristian’s hand stayed around my waist, firm and protective. “Next time, ask permission before you invite the dead.”
Lena blinked. “From you or from them?”
“Both,” he said.
The air in the room shifted again, but it was less tense this time. The candles steadied. The house seemed to exhale and settle back into its usual haunted peace.
Lena let out a breath. “Well, that was mildly traumatizing.” She looked around at the extinguished candles and broken glass. “Ten out of ten ambiance, though.”
Cristian released me slowly, his hand falling away like he’d just remembered it was still there. The warmth lingered.
No one spoke for a moment. Then Lena clapped her hands once.
“Okay. Spirits appeased, trauma logged.” Her phone buzzed.
She groaned as she checked the screen. “Ugh. Work. Apparently, sick people refuse to schedule their hospital visits around my social life.” She stood and stretched.
“Well, I’ll leave you two to your weird tension and unspoken feelings. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
Cristian frowned. “That eliminates nothing.”
“Exactly,” she said, grabbing her purse.
Once she was gone, the house felt quieter. Cristian held my gaze for just a second too long. Something danced there—
I cleared my throat. “So, how are your toenails holding up?”
He looked down at his feet and sighed. “It’s tragic.”
I smiled. “You’ll survive.”
He didn’t answer. But his eyes lingered, and I felt the pull settle warm and steady between us.
The doorbell rang at seven.
Seven. In the morning.
For one glorious second, I thought it was a dream, but then it rang again.
Cristian was apparently still dead to the world—literally—so I dragged myself out of bed, cardigan half-on, hair doing an interpretive dance around my face and shoulders. The tether pulled faintly, but it was calm. Cristian was resting. Good. Maybe some good sleep would make him less brooding.
When I opened the door, a man stood on the porch wearing an actual suit, too polished for this early in the day, and holding a briefcase that screamed, “I still fax things.”
“Good morning,” he said brightly. “My name is Hammond. I’m with the Universal Encyclopedia Collective. May I have a moment of your time?”
I blinked. “You’re… selling encyclopedias?”
He smiled wider. “Indeed. A full, comprehensive collection. They’re timeless, really.”
My brain struggled to compute. “Do you mean… books?”
“Yes.”
This was the part where I would take a sip of coffee if I had any. “Like… physical books? About facts?”
“Precisely.”
I stared at him. “This is a scam, right?”
He chuckled. “You’d be surprised how many households lack foundational knowledge. History, science, the arts—vital information lost to digital decay.”
“Uh-huh.” I started to close the door. “Well, good luck with that.”
Before the latch clicked, a polished shoe blocked the frame.
I froze. “Excuse me?”
“Just a moment,” he said, pressing his hand against the wood. “I’d love to show you the craftsmanship. The binding alone—”
“I’m not interested.”
He kept talking. His words blended together in a soothing murmur. Something about “preserving wisdom” and “illuminating the ignorant.”
I was suddenly tired. Not regular tired. The kind that made my limbs heavy and my head floaty.
“Okay,” I said weakly. “You really need to—”
The world tilted. I reached for the doorframe and missed, lowering myself to the floor before my body decided to fall on its own.
Hammond stepped closer, crouching until we were eye-level. His eyes had a faint shimmer to them, too bright to be normal. His smile was patient.
“Knowledge,” he said softly, “should never be refused.”
I wanted to tell him he was giving cult-leader energy, but my tongue wouldn’t cooperate. My thoughts were sludge.
He kept talking about encyclopedias—how each volume contained “power” and “legacy” and “names worth remembering.”
My body wouldn’t move. My vision blurred.
The bond tugged.
I heard him before I saw him. “Step away from her.”
It cut through the fog. I tried to turn my head toward his voice, but everything was going soft and far away. Cristian’s footsteps drew closer. The tether between us snapped taut, alive with warning.
The room tilted again.
Cristian’s voice came one last time, sharp and cold. “Get your foot off my door.”
Then everything went dark.