Chapter 6
Beth slowed her Prius as she approached Nighthawk Customs. At the end of the street, a massive brick building loomed, set back from the road behind a curved driveway.
The substantial brick structure commanded attention, its weathered red facade speaking of history and permanence.
Tall, arched windows marched in symmetrical rows across both floors, their decorative stonework catching the sun.
High clerestory windows running along the roof ridge softened the warehouse's utilitarian nature.
Dense woods pressed close to the back and far side of the building, their bare winter branches creating a natural barrier. The trees reminded her of protective sentinels standing guard over the property.
Despite its imposing presence, the structure maintained a welcoming atmosphere - much like the vampire twins who called it home. Beth smiled to herself as she noticed the neat landscaping around the entrance, softening the industrial structure's stern lines.
She pulled into one of the few clear spaces in the parking lot, carefully avoiding the scattered construction equipment.
The rumble of her engine died, leaving an almost eerie quiet.
No sounds of hammering, no workers calling to each other, no equipment whirring - just the soft whisper of wind through bare tree branches.
The last, quickly fading rays of the sun cast long shadows across piles of lumber and stacks of building materials.
Light spilled from the open bay door, creating a bright rectangle against the growing dusk. The warm glow invited her forward, promising warmth and activity within the otherwise silent building.
Her boots crunched on gravel as she made her way between a cement mixer and stacks of scaffolding. The scent of fresh sawdust and new paint tickled her sensitive nose. Whisper raised her head curiously, nostrils flaring, intrigued by all the new smells.
As Beth stepped inside the bay doors, the expanse of the newly renovated motorcycle shop revealed itself.
The space retained its Civil War era industrial character, with impressive wooden cross-braced trusses forming X patterns overhead throughout the high-ceilinged room.
Light from the overhead fixtures washed over the honey-colored pine flooring that had been carefully restored to its original luster.
The industrial-style lighting cast a warm glow throughout the space, highlighting the rich tones of the wood.
To the left, a sleek reception desk of polished metal and reclaimed wood stood as the sole piece of furniture in the otherwise empty waiting area.
The desk faced the entrance, positioned at an angle that allowed whoever would sit behind it to greet visitors while maintaining a view of the entire shop floor.
A small sign reading "Custom Cycles" sat on the desk's corner, the only indication of the business that would soon fill this space.
Along the right wall, a raised platform had been constructed, its fresh wood still carrying the scent of recent carpentry.
Upon this display dais sat a single custom motorcycle – a sleek café racer with matte black exhaust pipes contrasting against polished chrome details.
The bike gleamed under strategically placed spotlights, drawing Beth's eye to its craftsmanship.
The center of the space stretched toward the back, open and ready for workstations and equipment.
At the rear right corner, a recently installed glass partition wall created what would become a separate work area – its transparency ensuring the space would remain visually connected while containing whatever activities would take place inside.
The back left portion of the shop was similarly prepared for some purpose Beth couldn't yet determine, with newly installed electrical outlets and lighting fixtures strategically placed along the walls.
Though tools and workbenches had yet to arrive, the careful planning of the space was evident in the layout.
Throughout the room, the building's heritage remained the dominant feature – the weathered brick walls and restored wooden beams created a striking contrast with the modern, polished concrete floors that gleamed under the new lighting system.
A door to the left of the large bay swung open, and Tyr emerged. She instantly knew it was Tyr and not his twin - there was something in the way he carried himself, a subtle intensity that Tobi's more theatrical personality lacked.
His face lit up as he spotted her, his serious expression transforming into a warm smile that made her heart skip. He crossed the space between them with fluid grace, his boots silent on the polished concrete floor.
"Welcome to Nighthawk Customs," he said, his voice carrying genuine pleasure at her presence. The way his gaze swept over her, an appreciative gleam in his eyes, sent a flutter through her stomach.
Beth gazed around the spacious bay, taking in the careful restoration work and thoughtful design choices. "This is incredible. You've managed to preserve the building's character while making it completely modern."
Tyr's hand swept through the air, encompassing the exposed brick walls and massive wooden beams overhead. "We're trying to maintain as much of the building's historical integrity as possible," he explained, pride evident in his voice.
"These trusses are original to the Civil War era. The floors too - though we had to replace some damaged sections."
Beth's gaze followed his gesture upward, admiring how the wooden cross-braces formed dramatic X patterns across the ceiling.
Now that she knew to look, she could pick out the subtle differences between the original timbers and the carefully matched replacements.
The craftsmanship was impressive - she could barely tell where old met new.
"The building has such character," she murmured, breathing in the mingled scents of aged wood, fresh paint, and something uniquely Tyr. "You can feel its history in every beam and brick."
"That's exactly what we wanted to preserve." Tyr's blue eyes warmed as they met hers, clearly pleased by her appreciation of their work. "The industrial heritage, the solid craftsmanship - it deserves to be honored while we create something new here."
"It looks impressive," Beth told him.
"Wait until you see it finished," Tyr said, his blue eyes bright with pride as he gestured toward the empty spaces. "The workstations will go here, with specialized equipment for custom builds. And inside that glass partition will be our fabrication area."
Beth followed Tyr to the glass partition, admiring how the late afternoon sunlight played across its pristine surface. His knuckles rapped against the glass with a solid thunk.
"Completely soundproofed," he explained, his voice carrying pride, gesturing with obvious pride to the enclosed space. "The fabrication work gets pretty loud - grinding, welding, that sort of thing. This way customers can still watch the process without going deaf."
Beth peered through the clear barrier, noting the specialized ventilation system and what looked like mounting points for equipment along the walls.
"The glass is specially rated to contain sparks and debris," Tyr continued, running his hand along the frame. "Safety first, but we didn't want to hide the craftsmanship. People love watching their bikes come together."
"It's like a workshop aquarium," Beth mused, earning a rich chuckle from Tyr that made her cheeks warm.
"How much of the building are you renovating?" Beth asked, her curiosity piqued by the scope of the project.
"The whole thing… all three floors, plus the gallery on the top floor.
Though we prioritized the living spaces first." Tyr ran a hand through his fair hair.
"The vampires' apartments are on the second floor - steel-shuttered windows to keep us safe during our day sleep. The third floor is for our Companions."
Beth's eyebrows rose in surprise. "Companions?"
"Human blood donors," Tyr clarified. "They live here voluntarily, providing fresh blood in exchange for protection and generous compensation. It's a mutually beneficial arrangement that keeps everyone safe and well-fed."
Beth blushed in embarrassment. She had totally forgotten. "Oh, that's right… you mentioned that before."
"It's better than having to hunt for our meals," he explained with dry humor. "Much more civilized. Plus, no one gets hurt or drained. We're very careful about taking only what we need."
Beth struggled to wrap her mind around the concept. The idea of humans voluntarily living with vampires, offering their blood... it challenged everything she thought she knew about vampire-human relationships.
"So they just... live here? And let you feed from them?" Her voice came out higher than intended, making her cheeks flush.
"They're more like family than food sources," Tyr explained gently. "Many have been with us for years. Some are retired military or law enforcement who appreciate our security measures. Others simply prefer the safety and stability we offer compared to civilian life."
Beth's cheeks flamed hotter as she struggled to form her next question. Her curiosity burned, but heat flooded her cheeks as her heart hammered against her ribs. The words stuck in her throat, her natural shyness warring with her intense curiosity.
"So... um... does that mean..." She twisted her fingers together nervously. "I mean, do they also...?" She couldn't quite bring herself to say the word 'sex' out loud.
Tyr chuckled warmly, amusement dancing in his gaze at her obvious discomfort. "It depends on the arrangement," he said with dry humor. "Some relationships remain strictly professional - blood donation only. Others develop into more... intimate partnerships."