CHAPTER 1 #4
Five years with Max has been a long exhale—steady, undemanding, and exactly what I needed to drown out the echoes of my past. Lately, however, something’s been feeling off.
Is it really a proposal? Or is something else going on?
As if on cue, the door swings open again, bringing with it a gust of wind and Max’s familiar scent: sandalwood cologne, coffee, and that uniquely living heat no vampire can replicate.
His tall frame stands out among the other patrons as he navigates through the crowd. Despite his casual demeanor, I notice how his eyes dart around the room, cataloging exits and potential threats.
A habit he’s picked up from me.
His usually scrupulously styled brown hair is disheveled, as though he’s been running his hands through it repeatedly. Instead of meeting my eyes across the room with that smile that makes my stomach flutter, he presses his lips together nervously, his shoulders tense beneath his navy blazer.
I raise my hand to catch his attention.
When he finally spots me, his expression doesn’t light up the way it normally does.
“Hey,” he says when he reaches me, leaning in for a perfunctory kiss that barely grazes my cheeks.
No lingering touch or whispered chuckle, just one mechanical gesture that feels more like obligation than desire. “Sorry I’m late.”
“It’s fine,” I reply, studying his face. There is tension in his jaw and a tightness around his eyes that wasn’t there this morning. “Everything okay?”
He nods too quickly. “Just work stuff. You look beautiful.”
“Thanks.” I smile, blushing a little, although the compliment feels rehearsed. It seems to lack his usual warmth. I try not to overthink it. “I thought we could celebrate a little early,” I say, gesturing to my outfit. “Our anniversary is coming up, and—”
“Sorry, can we go somewhere else?” Max interrupts, glancing over his shoulder. “Somewhere quieter?”
I blink, surprised by his urgency. “Sure.” My suspicions rise as I slide off the barstool. Something is definitely wrong.
Max’s hand finds the small of my back, but there is no warmth in that touch either, just a desperate pressure guiding me toward the exit.
My thoughts spin with possibilities, each one more unsettling than the last. What if Evan was right?
What if Max’s perfect plans have gone awry, and now he’s scrambling to regain control?
What if it’s something way worse than that?
I shove the fears aside, hoping for the best but bracing for something less.
Max pushes through the front doors with me in tow. His grip slips from my back to my hand and squeezes it in a way that feels somewhat apologetic. The platinum blue sheen of his donation band catches the light, speaking of his strong sense of duty to the system.
Outside, cold night air rushes over me, its harshness a stark contrast to Hot Shot’s mellow interior.
As we cross the street with haste, I glance over my shoulder at the bar, its windows now glowing invitingly from a distance.
The noise and laughter that reaches us feels disconnected, worlds away from the tension hanging between us.
Finally, we stop beneath the flickering light of a streetlamp, the bulb sputtering like a dying star. Max looks at me, his eyes full of a hesitation that makes my heart sink even further.
“I don’t even know where to start…” he says with a half-smile of concession.
A chill that has nothing to do with the temperature crawls up my spine. “Just spit it out.”
He takes a deep breath, and I hope for him to go on one knee and tell me how nervous he has been for this moment. How he hasn’t even been able to be himself just now because of it.
“Someone just died from a vampire bite.”
Oh.
My face falls, excitement dissolving into horror. “For Blod’s sake, that’s terrible.” I try to focus on what he’s saying, but disappointment gnaws at me. Is this what had him so on edge?
Max nods, his demeanor changing to one of resigned acceptance.
“Yeah… The suspect was found at the scene, only a few blocks from here, bloodsucking someone else right next to the corpse.” He pauses for a few seconds, letting the chilling image settle before adding, “Her name is Kyla Rogues. Ring any bells?”
I shift uncomfortably, grappling with my own hesitation.
He narrows his eyes at me, suspicion hardening his gaze as I look away. “You knew, didn’t you? About the bloodsucking.”
I open my mouth to speak, but struggle to find the words. “I—”
Max seems to have lost his patience already, anger rising in his voice. “Spare me your lies, Seraph. Your face says it all. You’ve been harboring criminals this whole time!”
“They’re my friends!” I bark back, defensive.
“What was I supposed to do? They’re not bad people; they just engage in certain illegal activities.
It’s generally harmless and strictly happens with consent.
No one has ever died from their bite before…
” My voice trails off as I realize how unconvincing that argument is, considering what just happened.
I know better than to think such actions come without risks.
A storm of emotions brews on his face. “Are you hearing yourself?!”
I hate seeing Max like this. I know this hurts him.
I lower my voice, hoping to mitigate his distress. “I’m sorry, okay. I’m sorry. I know it’s wrong. I’ll talk to them about it, I promise.”
His eyebrows shoot up like rockets. “You’re going to talk to them about it? Those vampires need to be put behind bars, Seraph. Tell me, have you ever—”
“No! Hell, no.” The words rush out of me, my heart pounding at the implication.
A breath of relief escapes him, the tension in his face easing slightly. “Alright, I believe you. I won’t rat them out this time, but only because I know how much they mean to you. Just make sure something like this never happens again. If it does, I won’t hesitate to turn you in too.”
I only manage a nod, the gravity of his words sinking in.
“Can you leave me alone for a bit?” he huffs, his voice weary. “I need to process this.”
“Sure,” I say, taking a few steps back. “I’ll go talk to them.”
As I turn to walk away, Max’s words echo in my head. I won’t hesitate to turn you in too.
We have our differences, but I didn’t expect him to threaten me like that. He means well—I know he does. It’s just his way of laying down an ultimatum, a heavy-handed attempt to keep me in line. After all, Max is a lawyer down to the bone; bending the law for me would mean betraying himself.
I can’t fault him for that.