27. Darius - Vanessa
Chapter twenty-seven
Darius - Vanessa
Waves slam against the cliffs below the mansion hard enough to shake the windows, white spray exploding upward into the darkness. Fog moves over Bloodhaven Cove in slow drifting ribbons, swallowing pieces of the island whole before revealing them again.
I’ve just returned from the clinic and on the way, stood in The Wilds for a while. Listening and watching. But nothing showed itself.
I stand alone in my study with a glass of untouched blood wine in my hand and think about the Hunger and then about Arabella Russo. Bella.
Again. Always her now.
It has become somewhat exhausting. And exciting. And dangerous.
I’ve existed for a very long time. Long enough to understand desire. Long enough to understand obsession. Hunger. Weakness. Men like me do not survive centuries without learning discipline.
But Bella…
Bella dismantles my discipline simply by entering a room. The smell of her blood. Her eyes and lips. Her spirit, so courageous. In my soul for so long, in those recurring dreams.
I think of her standing in the clinic with her sleeves rolled up, stubborn determination written across her face while she argues with Finn or comforts frightened patients.
I think of the way she narrows her eyes when she suspects someone is lying to her.
The way she walks through Bloodhaven Cove like she refuses to be intimidated by it, though she has barely arrived. She’s not easily intimidated.
Including by me. I should terrify her. Or I will when she learns what I really am.
For now she looks at me with curiosity. Heat. Recognition. Her heart flutters and her skin flushes when I’m near. And every time she does, something ancient in me stirs.
Something I buried long ago. I close my eyes briefly. I know her voice already.
For over a century she has appeared in my dreams.
And every time I wake with the same terrible certainty—
that I love her. That she has come back to me. The dreams became stronger the year before she arrived. Then unbearable. Then constant.
And now she is here. Breathing my air. Walking my island. Pushing into my soul. Looking at me with those impossible eyes while pretending she does not feel this thing between us pulling tighter every day. I know she does. I hear her pulse.
I set the glass down untouched.
I realize it is not merely her blood I crave. It is her. Her voice. Her scent. Her laugh. Her presence in a room.
God help me, I even crave her defiance.
The house creaks softly behind me. Old stone. Old ghosts. Old mistakes.
My thoughts are interrupted suddenly. I hear someone at the front door, and Charles answering. They make their way to my study. When will she ever give up?
I already know who it is before I answer the knock.
Vanessa duPont slips inside without waiting for permission, draped in black silk that clings to her like smoke. Beautiful. Elegant. Long silver-blond hair, dramatic face. Dangerous in the practiced way only old vampires become.
“Vanessa,” I say flatly. “Why are you here?”
“Darius.” Her lips curve faintly. “You look troubled.”
“I was enjoying the silence.”
“That’s never stopped me before.”
True.
She moves toward the fireplace slowly, glass of blood wine already in hand, probably from Charles. Because Vanessa has long behaved as if my home belongs partially to her.
“I heard there’s a new doctor in town,” she says casually.
My body stills before I can stop it and she notices immediately. I realize she’s on a hunting expedition. Hunting for information.
“Ah,” she murmurs softly. “So the rumors are interesting after all.”
“There are no rumors.”
“Darius.” She smiles faintly. “You haven’t looked at anyone with interest in over a century. Including me, though I often try. Forgive me if I notice the sudden change.”
I say nothing.
Vanessa steps closer then, resting elegant fingers lightly against my chest.
“You know,” she says softly, “one day you may discover that immortality becomes unbearably long when spent alone.”
Under different circumstances, perhaps I might have pitied her. Vanessa has offered herself to me in a hundred subtle ways across the decades. Companionship. Loyalty. Seduction. Sexual temptation.
But never love. And I’ve never been interested in her.
I gently remove her hand.
“You should stop trying.”
The words come out quieter than intended. A flicker of hurt crosses her expression before the mask returns smoothly into place.
“One would think I’d have learned that by now,” she says lightly.
“Yes.”
Silence stretches between us. Then Vanessa studies me carefully.
“This human woman,” she says slowly. “Who is she? Why does she matter to you?.”
I’m silent. Dangerous how quickly Bella has become visible in me. I turn toward the window overlooking the fog-covered cliffs.
“She is not your concern.”
Vanessa watches me for a long moment. And when she speaks again, there’s something sad beneath the amusement.
“That,” she murmurs, “is the closest thing to desire I’ve ever heard from you. I should be jealous, but after all, she’s just a mortal human.”
Then she turns gracefully toward the door. But before leaving, she pauses.
“Be careful, Darius,” she says quietly. “Humans don’t survive being loved by vampires for very long.”
Then she disappears into the dark hallway beyond.
I walk toward the window overlooking the harbor below. Lights glow warmly. Everyone is indoors. Safe. Protected. Comfortable.
Because that was the entire point.
When I was first turned in 1830, and vampires started arriving to live at The Cliffs, feeding was chaos. Violence. Panic. Hunting. Too many deaths. Too much fear. There was a larger population then, during the thriving times of whaling. Young vampires lost control constantly. Uncontrolled feeding.
I still remember the shame of it. The horror. The blood.
So I changed things. Swiftly but carefully.
Bloodhaven Coven was starting to die economically even then. First the whaling industry slowed and died when electricity came and no one needed the oil anymore. Young people fled the island. Families starved quietly while pretending they weren’t. The fishing industry slowed.
I saw opportunities where others saw desperation.
So I created the donor system on the island. As a means for humans to make money and vampires to feed.
At first it was crude. Voluntary blood donations disguised as medical assistance programs. Then stipends.
Eventually it became something structured. Sacred. Necessary.
Now Charles oversees most of the recruitment alongside the high school guidance counselor and several trusted families. Every spring they identify candidates quietly. Islanders unlikely to leave. People who need money. People loyal to Bloodhaven Cove. People capable of keeping secrets.
Candidates who are uninterested are glamoured gently and sent on their way.
Those who agree … learn the truth. What we are. Why we exist. Why the island survives because of balance.
Every donor enters a blood vow. A mutual exchange. The Ceremony. The blood donors are compensated generously. Protected. Cared for medically. Matched carefully with compatible vampires. Feeding is monitored. Regulated.
Controlled.
At least it was.
The Ceremony began sixty years ago or more. Always held on the first full moon in June. The donor and vampire are paired formally there.
Some leave eventually. Marriage. Pregnancy. Dreams beyond the island. Those people are glamoured before departure. Memories softened. Edges blurred.
The secret remains.
But now there is a problem. A sickness, the strange blood reactions. Affecting humans and vampires.
It last happened twenty years ago. But we contained it and vampires were not affected. And the Hunger happened before that, every twenty years or so, but always faded away or was contained.
Now my dilemma.
Charles believes we should keep the secret from Bella.
I believe we should tell her everything immediately.
She could help, and her medical skills and fortitude are needed.
I need her. And frankly, she is already uncovering pieces on her own.
I don’t want to have secrets from her. I don’t want to hide the truth.
She needs to know I am vampire and others live here. She needs to know about the blood donors who do not wear silver necklaces and give blood regularly. Now she is detecting anemia, marks and webbing. The rumors and fear are spreading through the town.
I suspect Dr. Mercer has shown himself as well. She is waking up to this island faster than she understands.
I want to tell her, show her everything. The truth, what I am.
To hear her heartbeat echo in those corridors while she looks at me with shock and fury and fascination.
I grip the edge of the desk. These are dangerous thoughts.
We vampires live on secrecy. I live on it, always have, and I insisted on it at The Cliffs. For our survival.
If Bella learns the truth now, what I am, what lives here, she will either run from me which I could not bear. Or step willingly into my darkness and its impending danger.
And I’m no longer certain which outcome frightens me more.