Chapter Ten #2
"That's why you're the bait," Asher says, slipping his phone into his pocket. "You attract attention, but you don't flinch from vampires like other nymphs do."
I nod, confirming his read, though I don't offer anything else. But then he keeps going.
"These people you were with, they taught you everything. How to spot, how to survive. They trained you," he says, watching me closely. "You weren't coerced, were you? You worked with them. Willingly."
I tense, my spine straightening, but I don't respond.
Asher lets out a soft breath. "I'm not accusing you. I want to understand. Something made you run, and I doubt it was a sudden attack of conscience. And I don't believe for a second that they're chasing you down just because they need you back as a decoy."
He steps closer, arms crossed, not in a threatening way, but firm and commanding.
"You're running," he says quietly, "but you don't have a destination. No endgame. That's not a strategy. Not if the people chasing you are serious. They'll catch up eventually."
"I know," I murmur, lowering my gaze.
"If you tell us more, we can help," Asher says.
"That offer hasn't changed. And there's someone in town who might be useful—a friend of ours.
Collector of oddities, old grimoires, bestiaries, rare books from all over the world.
He might have something on satyrs. If Darius is as powerful as you say, you'll need more than instincts to keep him off your trail. "
I hesitate, thinking it through. Darius… if there's even a sliver of knowledge that could shield me from him and his powers, I should at least look.
"I could push the ticket," I say slowly. "Check out the books."
"Finally," Kayden grunts, settling back into an armchair with a refill. "Getting you to accept help is like pulling teeth."
I shoot him a look. He grins.
"Good. Then let's start there," Asher says with a nod. "But you still haven't answered the question." He holds my gaze, steady and unflinching. "Why are you running, Sage?"
I inhale slowly and take another sip of the drink. The warmth steadies me. I owe them something. Not everything, but at least a sliver of the truth.
"I won't get into the details of how I became a nymph," I begin, voice level.
"Let's just say… I woke up in a forest feeling different.
Nature itself made the call, so there was no 'maker,' no mystical mentor to greet me.
No instruction manual, either. Just the overwhelming certainty that something had been accepted—some kind of deal—and I wasn't human anymore. "
I pause, eyes on the amber liquid in my glass.
"I tried to go back," I admit. "To slide back into my old life with other humans. Pretend I was just a little weird, a little wild. But it didn't fit no matter how hard I tried. So I gave up. Packed what little I had and started wandering."
The glass empties. Kayden, without a word, refills it for me. I offer him a nod of thanks, but I don't stop talking.
"I was in California when it happened. A group of vampires jumped me. I didn't even know they existed. One minute I was walking through Golden Gate Park, next thing I knew, I was bleeding out on the grass. If Darlene hadn't found me, I would've died."
A frown tugs at my mouth at the memory of sharp teeth and harsh hands.
"She's a dryad—a wood nymph. Older and stronger. And also Darius's right hand. She was tracking the same group, saw what was happening and killed them to save me."
Kayden tilts his head. "Dark hair, looked like she wanted to murder me with her eyes the entire time?"
I nod. "Yeah. That's Darlene Sharma. She brought me to Darius after that. They told me what I was, what I could do. At first, I thought it was all some elaborate cult or fever dream brought on by blood loss. So I ran."
Kayden smirks. "Your signature move."
Asher shoots him a sharp look. "Continue," he says, voice calm.
I breathe out through my nose, steadying.
"Eventually, I was attacked again. Another vampire. And this time, it was Darius who stepped in. Turned out he'd been tracking me since I bolted. After that, I figured I wouldn't survive long unless I actually learned what I was. What this world was."
I pause, fingers wrapped tightly around the glass.
"So I stayed. Almost three years. I healed, trained, learned how to survive.
At first, everything aligned with what I believed in.
Darius's empire—Hawthorn Industries—has real green tech branches, eco-construction, clean energy.
The works. On the surface, it all looked legit.
Like I'd somehow found a powerful man who was actually trying to fix the world, not just feed off it. "
Kayden raises an eyebrow. "And all of that was just smoke and mirrors?"
I shake my head. "No. That's the thing—it's not a front. Darius is a satyr. He's life-aligned, nature-bound. That part of him is genuine. He truly believes in healing Earth, undoing the damage of centuries. And most of his people are the same."
I pause, swirl the liquid in my glass.
"I earned my way into the inner circle—those who handle less public work. The blood market. Darlene ran that side of things. She trained me herself."
Kayden lets out a short laugh, sharp and humorless. "Blood market. What a lovely euphemism."
I glance at him. "When they realized I didn't flinch around vampires, that I didn't carry the same instinctive disgust nymphs have, they offered me a special position.
Elite team, quiet ops. First missions were easy.
Young vamps, newly turned. We sprayed them with nightshade, waited until they were down, and…
" I gesture vaguely. "They never woke up. "
"They woke up," Kayden mutters. "Right as the sun hit their skin."
I don't respond. There's no point in defending it.
"So you're the good guys," he adds, voice bitter. "Saving Earth one crispy vampire at a time."
"Don't start," Asher says, quiet but firm.
I exhale and continue. "At first, I told myself it was justice. Most of the targets were predators. But over time, I started noticing cracks. Shadier things going on. Criminal connections. And then—"
I pause. The words knot in my throat, and I down half the glass to loosen them.
"Well, I found out that Darius, being a satyr, the so-called king of the forest, has a kind of influence over nymphs.
It's not like vampire compulsion—nymphs aren't affected by that.
His power… it's different. More insidious.
You don't feel it. Don't even know it's happening.
No warning bells. No resistance. It just weaves itself into you and bends your emotions. "
I pause, watching their reactions.
"That was the first time I started doubting everything. When I realized I couldn't trust my own instincts, my feelings around him."
Asher nods slowly. "I can imagine that's unsettling." Then he asks, "Is that the reason they're after you? Because you know too much?"
"Yes," I answer simply.
Not the only reason, but I'm not ready to admit that.
"And there's more," I add, my fingers tightening around the glass.
"I started digging. Nothing crazy at first, some internal notes, calendar logs.
But then I got into email chains I wasn't supposed to see, quiet correspondences in encrypted drives.
That's when I learned that the second vampire attack—the one that sent me running back to them—was staged. "
The words come out heavy.
"It was all orchestrated. The attack, the rescue. They made sure I couldn't see any other path but theirs. And I took it. Trusted them. Felt grateful."
Saying it aloud still burns.
Kayden's voice is quieter than usual, but laced with that familiar edge. "Now that's some vile eco-savior behavior."
Asher cuts to the core. "How exactly does this influence work? Does it make you act? Obey?"
"I don't know the exact mechanics," I admit. "It's not like a voice in your head or an urge you recognize. It's emotional nudging. Intensifying some feelings, blurring others. Warmth, loyalty, comfort, or suspicion, resentment—he can manipulate them all."
Asher's jaw ticks. "So in theory, he could push you to return. Or make you turn on someone just by altering how you feel about them."
I nod, lips pressed tight. "That's what scares me. That I might not even realize it's happening. That I could become… a ticking bomb to anyone who's near me. Another reason to use that bus ticket."
Kayden growls. "I swear to the fucking moon, I'm gonna find that ticket and rip it to shreds."
Asher ignores him, eyes on mine, voice calm. "All right. If that's the risk, it gives us a clear direction. We can look for ways to shield you. At the very least, weaken the influence. That's something concrete to work with."
He offers a faint smile. "It's a ticking bomb we can defuse. I would know, since I've worked with explosives before."
I crack a smile in return. Damn them both. They're trying. And it feels good to be worth trying for.
"I'm still keeping the ticket," I say, lifting my glass again.
"As you should," Asher replies, as he finally tosses the towel away and mercifully puts on a shirt.
"Hold on to it as long as you want, Sage.
Thank you for telling us all this. It matters.
Not just for you. Darius's actions, his plans, whatever they are, could affect all of our lives, sooner or later. "
I sip more of the drink, letting the warmth settle in my chest while my thoughts refuse to do the same. I opened up. Told them the truth, or at least a version of it. But there's still more buried deeper, things I can't hand over. Not yet. Maybe not ever.
A sudden growl from my stomach interrupts the spiral. Right. I haven't eaten anything since that granola bar hours ago.
I reach for my backpack and pull out the sad excuse for dinner—those dollar store instant meal trays. "At least I'm a self-sufficient guest," I announce, holding them up like some kind of badge of independence.
Kayden makes a face like I just unwrapped roadkill. "All right, I don't eat food anymore, but even I know that's an abomination."
Asher frowns in agreement and steps forward, plucking the boxes from my hands with that effortless confidence of his. "You're not eating this. Not under my roof."
I sigh, already defeated. "You two are so damn stubborn. You know that, right?"
They glance at each other with perfectly synchronized smugness.
"Oh, we know," Asher says calmly.
"Not always a bad thing," Kayden adds, propping his arm on the counter like he's posing for a supernatural GQ shoot. "Especially when we agree. And we definitely agree that your dinner belongs in a landfill."
In the kitchen, Asher chucks the boxes straight into the trash with no hesitation. Then he rolls up his sleeves and starts pulling ingredients from the fridge—onions, eggs, herbs—prepping everything with ease and confidence.
Meanwhile, Kayden launches into a dramatic retelling of how he once tried to cook a steak and nearly set a hotel on fire. I half-listen, half-watch Asher move through the kitchen. He probably cooked for his unit back in the day. Or maybe for someone else, long ago.
A homemade dinner in a house full of vampires, where you're not on the menu—not something I thought existed.
But here I am.
What else might I be wrong about?