Chapter 5 Diantha
Diantha
He’s a vampire. A motherfucking vampire.
And then, after making this announcement, he has the balls to look at me like I’m the insane one.
Oh, sure! Right!
I lock the bathroom door behind me and take seven deep gulps of air.
Vampire.
An Italian vampire.
As if that makes some sort of difference. Like, what if Santa Claus were from Algeria? Or Australia? What if unicorns had seasonal affective disorder?
I sit down on the edge of the bathtub and bury my face in my clammy palms, head spinning and chest constricting as every muscle in my body simultaneously tenses and vibrates.
My poor mother spent my entire childhood warning me that there were things in this world more powerful, more terrifying, than burglars in balaclavas and rageful ex-husbands who’d had too many beers.
She spent so much time trying to prepare me for moments exactly like this, trying to get me to embrace my lineage and power so I could defend myself. And instead, what do I do?
I land directly in harm’s way. With a fucking vampire in my house and a bunch of freaky fucking demons on my ass!
“Oh my god,” I whisper into my hands. “I’m turning into my mother.”
“Diantha, please.” Orfeo’s voice snaps me to attention. I spin around and grab hold of my toilet brush, brandishing it at the locked door.
“Stay away from me. Don’t take another fucking step!”
I won’t die. I can’t die. I refuse to leave this realm before I fulfill the promise I made my mother. I will not let us both become trapped in the Dream Place.
“What the fuck is going on? Your pasta aglio e olio is ready—” The doorknob rattles. “Diantha, ma porco due—”
I throw the toilet brush aside, rip off my heavy winter boot, and launch it at the door. “Get back!”
“Apri ’sto cazzo de porta!”
“Go. Away.”
“I thought you knew.” His voice is much closer now, deeper, like he’s pressed up against the door. “I thought you could tell, the same way I could tell about you.” His accent grows stronger with each word, and against my own will, I feel myself believing him.
“Tell what about me?! I’m a fucking human.” I rip off my other boot and throw it at the door. “And you aren’t allowed to fucking eat me!”
The doorknob stops rattling. Orfeo falls completely silent.
Do Italian vampires breathe? I have no idea, since they can apparently touch garlic and come into my house without a damn invitation.
Many, many seconds pass.
Maybe…I’ve insulted him. Maybe it’s extremely disrespectful to accuse a vampire of wanting to eat you.
I swallow against the throb of fear in my throat. “Hello?”
“Diantha.” His tone is gentle again, soft and sweet with the lilt you might use while reasoning with a toddler.
“You are not a human. You’re…something. I don’t know what.
But I can help you, if you just tell me what happened tonight.
When I found you, you were in some sort of coma or having a seizure.
And then you collapsed. I just want to know—”
I cross the room, unlock the door, and open it just a crack.
And there he is—shirtless and gorgeous, amber eyes wide.
Fingers buried in his pitch-black hair, the angle of his jaw cast in harsh relief by the dim lighting coming from the kitchen.
If he were a human man, his cheeks would be flushed.
But they’re not. They’re hollow, and the skin around his eyes has gone transparent, tiny green veins visible.
Is he hungry—or sad? The thought flashes through my mind. I catch it, crush it, throw it away. Who cares? I can’t care, that’s all I know.
Orfeo steps back, fingers flexing into fists at his sides. His jaw clicks.
“Tell me,” I say. “Tell me what I am.”
The vampire sets a steaming bowl of spaghetti aglio e olio down in front of me.
Then, he hands me a fork. I flash him a look of gratitude, wishing briefly he had a shirt on.
Not because I’m not enjoying the soft, etched contours of his muscles.
It’s just awkward, I guess. My face heats as soon as our eyes catch.
I don’t think I’m blushing, but what do I know? Can vampires smell emotions?
“Can I,” I whisper, “also have a spoon?”
He frowns. “What, are you German?”
“No, I just—” He hands me a spoon. I barely saw him move, but I know he did because the air around us feels disturbed. His wavy black hair is slightly askew, as if he just dodged a bullet.
“Thank you.”
Orfeo settles across from me at the kitchen table, pressing a cigarette between his lips. “I don’t know what you are. But when I look at you, I can tell from your energy that you are not only human.”
Holy shit, this pasta is good. I try for one single second to eat slowly and demurely, but my primal instincts take over and I realize I’m starving. I barely come up for air while Orfeo talks.
“You’re not a demon, I know that much. If you were a demon, you would know Leo and Nis. You’d know about Hades House being purchased by Alfo. You would know a lot more about Echidna in general.” He shakes his head and pulls the unlit cigarette from his puckered lips. “And you would be much less…”
I pause mid–pasta twirl and narrow my eyes at him. “Less what?”
His lips twitch. “Beautiful.”
“Oh.” I shake my head, burying my face back in my bowl. He thinks I’m beautiful. He said it so casually—as if it’s just a fact. This Italian vampire thinks I’m beautiful. A sentence no one else in my lineage has ever thought before.
“Maybe you’re a witch,” Orfeo continues. “Or, I don’t know, part fairy.”
I swallow an enormous, cheek-bulging mouthful of pasta. Finally, I feel like I’m back in my body. “Part fairy? How would that even work?”
“Well, Diantha, when a man and a woman love each other very much—”
I cut him off with a scoff. “Those guys didn’t put a spell on me.
What you saw…The way you found me? I don’t know what it’s actually called, but me and my mom always called it decoupling.
It’s like I can pull my spirit out of my body and…
walk around. I can go anywhere, as long as I can picture exactly where I want to go.
And when I get there…” I chew at my lip for a moment.
How do I describe this? “It’s like I’m a ghost.”
Even when I stop talking, Orfeo doesn’t pull his eyes off of me.
The color of his eyes—the intensity of that brown-yellow—has calmed, but his pupils are still so focused I feel like he could etch my bones.
He runs his tongue along his bottom lip, and I glimpse his fangs. Bone-white, both terrifying and…
And what?
“That’s what you were doing?” he asks.
I nod. “But I haven’t done it in a really long time, and I think…I think my body was shocked. Or maybe being around other magic messed with my energy. I wouldn’t know, because I don’t think I’ve ever met a demon before. Usually, I can decide when I go back inside my body, but tonight…”
Orfeo pushes back from the table and lets out a chestful of air. “Can I smoke?”
“Does nicotine work on vampires? Also…” I lean forward. “What the fuck, you’re a vampire?”
He rolls his eyes, but I catch a prideful little flicker of a smile on his lips. “Is that a yes or a no?”
“Fine.” I push my empty dish toward him. “Do not get any ash on this table. It’s an heirloom.”
He raises his brows. “You like old things?”
I ignore the curl of excitement behind my belly button just as I ignore the flirtation in his voice. “Old things? Yes. Old men? No.”
Orfeo laughs—thankfully. Could you imagine if he just got sick of my bad attitude, reached across the table, snapped my neck, sucked me dry like an applesauce pouch, and then went toodles into the ether?
I need to keep my wits about me. Never before has my shitty attitude been such an enormous liability.
“You were saying…” He waves me on.
“Right. I usually decide when I go back into my body. But tonight, it all happened so fast. And then I was…”
Maybe I shouldn’t tell him about the Dream Place.
“Unconscious. For like, twenty-five minutes.” He finishes my thought for me, blowing out a cloud of smoke. “But you weren’t dead. You were fighting something, some energy.”
I pull in a breath. My mom had always been clear that I shouldn’t decouple when my body was exposed and unguarded. And tonight, I flat-out ignored that foundational rule. It hadn’t seemed dangerous at the time, I try to remind myself. How could I have known what I was getting caught up in?
“Did they see me? Those half-demons. Leo and…?”
“Nisos.” Orfeo grimaces. “We call him Nis. And yes, they came after you. But they didn’t seem to realize you were using magic. Fucking idiots.” He shakes his head.
“You…saved me?”
Orfeo doesn’t reply, and my question hangs heavy in the air around us. You saved me. I sound like a dumb kid.
“Of course I did.” He stubs out his cigarette, stands, and pulls on the shirt he’d discarded over the back of a chair.
His back muscles flex with effort as he slides one arm in, then the other, taking special care not to wrinkle the fabric.
Soft, diffused light catches on each pull of his muscles, on his profile.
He looks like an oil painting, all rich shadows and decadent shades of gold and cream.
“You are special, Diantha. But even if you weren’t, I would have still saved you from those beasts. ”
I’m special?
I force myself to stand up and begin cleaning up the kitchenette. If I’m not human, then maybe I’m not his prey. That feels important to me, suddenly. So suddenly that it kind of scares me. He’s a stranger, I remind myself. And a vampire.
And of course, he’s handsome. He has to be. It’s an evolutionary necessity. How else would he convince people to let him eat them?
I fill the sink with hot, soapy water and drop my dirty dishes in. “Who bought Hades House?”
“A bunch of jackasses. Bullies and thugs. People who like to take advantage of the weak.”
In an instant, he’s beside me, and I jump, sending suds up into the air between us. “Jesus, fuck—”
“Diantha.” He slips a finger beneath my chin.
His touch is hot, hotter than the water my hands are submerged in.
My chest constricts, breath stalling in my chest. I catch a gasp between my teeth and pray he hasn’t noticed.
I also pray he doesn’t feel the way my pulse has begun to thud in my neck—or, I don’t know, sense the gentle ratcheting of pressure deep in my abdomen.
Orfeo coaxes me toward him with a microscopic flex of his finger. His eyes search my face. Standing this close, I see them—his fangs. Gentle points that press into the soft flesh of his bottom lip. Like the rest of his teeth, they’re perfectly straight and white.
Kiss me, I think. Such a foreign thought. But I want it so badly. I want his mouth on mine, on my jaw, on my neck.
Am I his prey? I need to know. I need to know if all of everything I’m feeling is some form of enchantment. Or if I’ve just lost my mind.
“I don’t know how much or how little of you they saw, and if they ever learn what you can do, they will try everything possible to trap you in their world.
This power you have…” He devours my features with his gaze, settling for a moment on my lips.
Orfeo pulls in a quick breath. “It’s incredible. Stay away from Hades House, Diantha.”
“Okay,” I whisper.
Orfeo holds me there, eyes narrowed. Is he trying to read my mind? Then, he drops his finger from under my chin. Instantly, I miss the warmth. “I’m going to leave now.”
I don’t want him to go. I don’t want to sleep in my apartment, alone with my thoughts and the vague terror that something bad is happening in Echidna.
But I also don’t want him to leave just yet.
I need more information. I want him to take off his shirt again and slip between my sheets and speak to me in that deep, throaty voice for hours.
I force myself to turn away from him. “See you tomorrow night in class.”
“Tomorrow night.” Orfeo clears his throat. “Ciao, Diantha.”
The balcony doors slam shut. He’s gone.