35. Darius – Vampires at The Cliffs
Chapter thirty-five
Darius – Vampires at The Cliffs
Rain now lashes faintly against the upper windows while the sea groans far below. The vampires of The Cliffs have gathered in Marcus’ grand living room.
I can sense some confusion, fear, hunger and agitation. Too many vampires in one confined place carrying too much unease.
Bella stands quietly near me, as I insisted. She observes everything with sharp, intelligent eyes. Human. Mortal. Fragile.
And somehow she might be the bravest person in this room.
Several vampires glance toward her openly as we enter the room. Curious. Hungry. Some are distrustful. Some are neutral. They all take note of her blood scent. I dislike all of those looks immediately.
“You brought a mortal here, to treat Marcus. And now to this meeting?” Victor asks coldly as he descends the stairs.
Ancient even by our standards, Victor moves with the smooth confidence of old predators who survived centuries by trusting very little. Gold glints faintly at his cuffs while his pale eyes settle on Bella.
“She is involved already,” I reply evenly. “She’s the island doctor.”
“She is human.”
“She is also the only physician currently tracking this … infection.”
Murmurs ripple through the chamber. The word infection changes everything. Because now it has a name. And naming fear makes it real.
Bella remains perfectly calm despite the attention turning toward her.
Gods above, even now she fascinates me. Most humans would already be terrified in this room. Or would have refused to enter. Or would have fled the island by now.
Bella studies vampires the way another doctor might study a difficult diagnosis. Fear present. Curiosity stronger.
My assistant Charles moves toward the center table where old maps of Bloodhaven Cove already lie spread open beside donor registries and feeding schedules.
“We have confirmed four infected humans, three of which were donors,” he says quietly. “And now Marcus.”
A low murmur spreads immediately.
“That should not be possible,” Isabelle whispers.
“It is possible,” Victor snaps. “You saw Marcus yourself.”
“No vampire has ever reacted this way before,” another says sharply. “In all of the appearances of this disease over time.”
And there it is. The truth sitting beneath all of this.
In all of the Risings: Humans died. People vanished. The Wilds became dangerous.
But vampires?
We remained ourselves. Controlled. Disciplined. Safe. Except that my brother Drake disappeared. My jaw tightens automatically at the thought of my brother.
I push it away. Now is not the time.
“It is different this time,” I say quietly.
Silence falls immediately. Because when I speak in this room, they listen.
They remember what existed before structure. Before rules. Before the donor system. Before Bloodhaven Cove became stable.
“We believe the corruption now spreads through blood exchange,” I continue. “Donor to vampire. Vampire to donor. But the source is still unknown. The thing in The Wilds? But the main point of this meeting is that vampires are now susceptible, and it spreads through blood exchange.”
The room erupts instantly. Impossible! Dangerous! By feeding?
Then donors are compromised—
We must stop feeding immediately—
But that’s suicide—
Several voices rise at once. And beneath the panic now: hunger. Fear of not feeding. Not having enough blood.
“Lena was the donor for Marcus. They are both infected. Lucius, your donor Maris is infected, and Adrian, your Jenna is infected. You should both isolate at my home.”
Bella watches the room carefully, taking in every reaction.
Victor’s gaze sharpens toward me.
“If donors are infected, then feeding becomes unsafe.”
“Yes it does.”
A younger vampire near the back laughs harshly.
“Unsafe?” he repeats. “We are predators. We feed. We survive on blood.”
“And if you get the disease and lose control?” I ask calmly. That quiets him instantly. Because they know about Marcus. And they all know what uncontrolled hunger looks like.
God knows we remember.
“You said humans are infected too,” Isabelle says carefully, glancing toward Bella. “What symptoms?”
Bella hesitates only briefly before stepping forward.
The room shifts subtly at her movement. Some intrigued. Some irritated. Some hungry. My instincts sharpen instantly.
Bella speaks anyway.
“Early-stage symptoms in humans include anemia, bruising, insomnia. Documentation of this disease in the past said hallucinations, heightened emotional behavior, and eventually compulsive behavior may manifest.”
Her voice remains steady. Clinical. Controlled. “But in vampires…” She glances briefly toward Marcus. “The same strange webbing of veins appears in both humans and vampires. The disease appears to amplify appetite and destabilize restraint, almost immediately.”
Silence settles heavily again. Because she said the word none of them wanted spoken aloud.
Restraint.
A vampire woman near the staircase folds her arms tightly. “So what?” she says coldly. “We isolate infected donors. Feed elsewhere if necessary.”
Bella blinks and looks at me.
“Elsewhere?” I ask coldly.
The woman’s expression hardens slightly.
“Other islands. Or the mainland.”
Ah. There it is. The old instinct. Hunt. Feed. Take. My voice cuts through the room sharply.
“No.”
Every eye turns toward me.
“No feeding outside the donor system,” I say calmly.
“No uncontrolled hunting and killing. No violations. What if you are infected and go elsewhere? That means others become infected and now we have larger problems. An exponential spread and an uncontrollable situation. It could become a pandemic. That brings scrutiny to Bloodhaven Cove. To us.”
The younger vampire scoffs.
“And when our hunger worsens?”
I step closer slowly. Very slowly.
“Then you remember what happened before I created these laws.”
Silence crashes down instantly. Because they do remember. Or at least the oldest among them do. Bodies found bloodless. Humans arriving with torches and silver, stakes and vengeance. Being hunted.
I built Bloodhaven Cove specifically so we would never endure that again. Never become that again.
“You all wear elegance well,” I say quietly. “You enjoy civilization. Music. Art. Lovers. Safety. Community.”
My gaze moves across the room.
“All of that disappears if this island falls.”
No one argues now. Because beneath the fear and hunger, they understand.
If vampires lose control publicly, Bloodhaven Cove dies. Humans revolt. Donors flee. The mainland notices. And centuries of secrecy collapse overnight. Larger forces could become involved. Military, even. Chaos.
Bella studies me quietly. I can feel her watching. Can feel her beginning to understand what leadership costs in a place like this.
Charles clears his throat softly.
“We need a protocol.”
“Yes,” I agree immediately.
And so we begin. Infected donors quarantined quietly and put on sedation to slow the disease. Infected vampires heavily sedated and silvered.
Vampire feeding from donors suspended immediately.
Blood stores and blood wine shared and pooled among residents.
Blood testing. Restricted movement after sunset.
Silver enforcement among human donors (donors typically do not wear the silver necklace to endanger their vampire.)
Emergency donor protections.
Bella contributes calmly throughout it all, already organizing systems and symptom progression in her notebook while several vampires continue glancing toward her with varying levels of suspicion.
And fascination. One vampire finally says what several are clearly thinking.
“You trust her very quickly, Darius.”
The chamber stills again. Bella looks up slowly. I hold the vampire’s gaze evenly.
“Yes,” I say. Simple. Absolute. Dangerous.
Something shifts in the room at that answer. Recognition perhaps. Because vampires notice attachment immediately.
And unfortunately, they are not wrong.
Vanessa watches me next to Bella and says to the vampire next her, “I’ve known Darius Hunt for one hundred and eighty years. He’s never looked at a woman the way he looks at her.”
Of course I can hear. Vanessa knows it.
Marcus suddenly convulses violently in his room. We hear it and the entire room snaps to attention.
Bella runs there as fast as a mortal can, and I am beside her. A few others follow.
His eyes are open, black, hungry and terrified. The silver holds him in place, burning his pale skin.
“The forest,” he rasps weakly. “Something in the forest is calling us. Calling me.”
A chill moves through the chamber. Several vampires visibly tense.
Not because of Marcus. Because somewhere deep inside themselves, they understand exactly what he means.