Chapter Five
Sage
I'm still alive. For now.
I don't buy the whole "good vampire" angle, not for a second. But they want answers, and I need to make sure I'm still breathing once their curiosity is satisfied.
"The ones who had Kayden… they're part of an organization that hunts vampires for their blood," I say, keeping my tone even.
"It's highly valued for its healing properties.
Especially blood from older vampires—it stays 'fresh' longer, for lack of a better word.
Makes it easier to ship, sell, and use."
I say it clinically. Like it's just information. Like I wasn't a part of it.
I glance at Kayden, and the tension in the room sharpens.
"They target vampires with violent histories," I add, locking eyes with him. "The kind responsible for centuries of bloodshed."
I let the implication hang.
He smirks. Actually smirks. And raises his glass in mock salute, like I handed him a compliment.
I shift slightly, turning back to Asher.
Looking at Kayden is like staring into fire—dangerous, and yet something in me still wants to lean in.
My body remembers things I never asked it to.
The heat of his mouth on my throat. The sound of his breath.
The scent of him in that club. The bite still burning in me like a phantom brand.
There was nothing sweet about the way he touched me just now, but… it was more restrained than I expected. Considering I tried to stake him, I should probably be dead by now. If his older brother weren't in the room, I would be.
"But I wasn't part of it by choice. I was coerced," I add.
It's a lie. A softened one. The kind you lace between pieces of truth and hope no one catches.
"Ah, the old 'wrong person, wrong time' narrative," Kayden quips, his smirk unshaken. "Not buying it, sweetheart," he purrs, shifting a little closer.
"I'm not asking you to believe me. I'm telling you how it is," I reply, keeping my tone even, sipping the drink like I couldn't care less.
Asher crosses his arms, unreadable. "So the whole thing was for money?"
"Money that funds environmental causes," I say. "From their point of view, it's a win-win-win. Help the sick, fund the green revolution, take down killers."
Kayden's smirk fades. He glances at Asher. Clearly, they didn't expect that kind of answer.
Kayden scoffs, shaking his head. "Environmental causes? Draining vampire blood to save the trees? I didn't see that one coming. That's… ironically noble."
Asher lowers his gaze, thoughtful. "I've heard whispers. Rumors. I didn't think it was a real operation." His eyes flick up to mine. "If it's run by non-humans, that explains the secrecy. Who's behind it? You mentioned a name—Darius. Is he the boss?"
My gaze slides to the window at the sound of that name. Some instinct deep in my bones expects him to appear when spoken aloud. But there's nothing outside, just wind, rain, and the bone-rattle of thunder.
I finish my drink, set the glass on the table, and ask, "Can I get another?"
"By all means," Kayden says, rising with a theatrical sigh. "Let's keep the lady comfortable while she's under interrogation." The sarcasm's smooth, but his eyes are still watching me closely. Like a cat circling a cornered bird. He moves to the bar, still listening.
"Yes. The leader of the whole operation is Darius Hawthorn," I answer Asher.
Asher's brows lift. "The billionaire?" Then a quiet nod, the pieces aligning in his mind. "Right. Green tech. Carbon-neutral economy. Big political ties, deep pockets, whisper-clean reputation. I remember now."
"You know a lot about some random rich bastard," Kayden mutters, returning and handing me a fresh drink.
"I keep up to date with major developments," Asher replies flatly. "Some of us like to function in this century."
Kayden grunts a dry laugh and drops back on the sofa, one arm draped across the top cushion, his presence coiling around me again like smoke. It takes effort not to shift away.
"He's non-human, too, I'm guessing," Asher says.
Interesting. He's still not asking what I am. But we're circling closer.
"No. He's a satyr," I say, letting it drop like a stone.
They blink. That got them.
"Oh, a satyr?" Kayden drawls, voice thick with sarcasm. He leans forward, elbows on his knees, the grin returning with that hungry glint in his eyes. "What's next? The whole court of Oberon hiding in Silicon Valley?"
"I've met a lot of creatures over the centuries," Asher says, though doubt lines his voice. "We've got coyote shifters, a banshee, even a valkyrie in town. But satyrs? Leshy? Never outside myth."
I shrug. "Because creatures of life, of nature, don't mix with beings like you. It's dangerous for us."
I didn't even know they existed six years ago. But now I'm one of them. And we're good at hiding. Better than anyone realized.
"Seems like knowing you is more dangerous to us," Kayden says, lips curling into that wicked smirk.
I turn to him, wary. "What happened to the two leshy who pursued me?"
He stretches lazily. "They won't be a problem for you or anyone else. I can give you the gory details if you're into that kind of thing."
I glance away, swallowing hard. I was never close with the leshy, especially those two—Eastern European transplants loyal to Darius first and foremost. But that doesn't mean I wanted them dead.
And Darius… he'll feel the loss. And he'll make someone pay.
"No need." My voice tightens. "That's why it's dangerous. Vampires are stronger than most of us, and our blood…" I stop myself, too late. The words are already hanging in the air, heavy with implication.
Kayden catches the slip like a scent in the wind.
He leans forward, his eyes lit with something far more complex than hunger.
"Now we're getting to the crucial part, sunshine," he says, voice low and coaxing.
"What are you, exactly, among your eco-friendly supernatural bandits?
You're not leshy. That I know. Their blood tastes like sap and bark.
Yours was…" His gaze drops to my lips, then back to my eyes. "Different."
The way he says it, it's not just about the taste. There's something deeper behind it. Something that rattles me more than I care to admit.
I sit back, dread coiling tight in my stomach. Doesn't matter if I confess now or later, they were always going to ask.
I swirl the amber liquid in my glass, avoiding both their eyes. "If I tell you… you'll kill me."
A bitter flash cuts across my memory. Vampires who caught me before I even understood what I was. The bites. The agony. The way they drained me dry. I would've died if Darlene hadn't found me when she did.
Kayden's voice cuts through the haze, dark and deliberate. "We could kill you anyway."
I don't flinch, but the chill of it sinks into my bones.
"Kayden," Asher snaps, steel slipping into his voice. "We have a deal. Sage, we're not here to hurt you. We can help. But we need the truth. Not pieces of it."
I look up at him, searching his face. Testing the claim behind his calm. Something about Asher makes me feel like I can trust him.
A mistake, probably. But I say it anyway: "I'm a nymph."
Silence stretches for half a breath. Then Kayden laughs—sharp, disbelieving, borderline feral.
"Oh, of course you are. A satyr boss, leshy muscle, and now a nymph?
All we need are a few muses and gorgons and we've got ourselves a full-blown Bacchanalia.
" Then he adds, his smirk widening, "Aren't nymphs supposed to bounce around naked? Tied to some tree or a river?"
I deadpan: "Aren't you supposed to sleep in a coffin and recoil from garlic?"
He grins, tipping his drink. "Touché, flower girl."
Asher stays serious and thoughtful. His eyes narrow, voice steady. "Why would we kill you for that? Because your blood tastes different?"
They don't know. Not really. Kayden only had a sip. Enough to notice something off. Not enough to understand what it really does.
I set the glass down with deliberate care and meet their gazes.
One truth. One lie. Blend it just right.
"Exactly," I say smoothly. "Not like vampires are picky, but when something tastes better, it becomes a more lucrative product. Rarer. More tempting. I've been drained almost to death by a group that figured that out, so… I know."
But it's not the full truth.
What I don't say is that nymph blood doesn't just taste different. It gives vampires something they were never meant to have—life. A flash of everything they've lost. Color, sensation, breath, hunger, joy. Like stepping back into humanity if only temporarily.
I study their faces closely, watching for the smallest flicker of suspicion. Because if they knew what it really does, I'm not sure I'd leave this house alive.
Kayden
A goddamn nymph.
Even as she talks, offering tidbits wrapped in half-truths, I can hear it ringing in my head.
Nymph.
Because of course the girl who tastes like sunlight and wilderness, who nearly staked me in my living room, is a walking, mythical fever dream.
I remember the taste of her blood—sweet and wild and alive in a way that still haunts the back of my throat. But everything else that night stole the rest.
"So," I drawl, eyes fixed on her, "you think being vampire candy is what would get you killed? Not the whole blood-harvesting gig? Not, say, draining me like a tapped keg or trying to ram a stake through my heart after I saved you? Please."
I scoff, letting the sarcasm roll heavy as I tip my glass toward her. "If you're that much of a sweet treat, maybe I should lock you up and keep you as my personal vintage. One little sip at a time… forever."
Her eyes widen, just a flicker, but I catch it. And she squirms.
Good.
"We're not like those vampires," Asher cuts in, giving me a sharp glare as if it ever worked. "We won't attack you, Sage."
"Yeah," she mutters, dry as sandpaper, her gaze sliding to me. "Sure."
I offer her a toothy grin.