In the dimly lit corner of an exclusive restaurant in town, hidden from prying eyes, a gathering of vampires took place. The vampire lord, Damon, sat at the head of the table, his regal demeanor befitting his status. There was a champagne glass in his hand, but instead of champagne, it was filled with blood. He was surrounded by his cadre. Joel, Romulus, Faye and Levi. Ravenna was the only member of his cadre that was not present. Together, they indulged in their nocturnal desires, savoring the taste of blood.
As the night unfolded, Faye leaned in towards a young lady, her large eyes blank and her body motionless. It wasn't hard to see that she was under Faye's glamour. She would remember nothing of the night, or even the pain, that gave Damon a bit of relief. Faye's fangs glistened in the flickering candlelight. With a swift motion, she pierced the tender skin on the lady's neck, savoring the blood that flowed. The scene disgusted Damon, the repulsion visible in his intense gaze, but he refrained from uttering a word. Everyone in his cadre knew that he didn't drink from the vein and he had not done so in years. Although he didn't chastise them from doing the same, he still couldn't stand the sight.
Romulus noticed the unease lingering on Damon's face. "Is something amiss, my lord?" he inquired, raising a brow in curiosity.
Damon shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his voice carrying a subtle tinge of displeasure. "It's nothing," he replied, his tone laced with restraint. "Merely a momentary distaste. Carry on."
Faye withdrew from her feeding, her eyes glimmering with satisfaction. She didn't even wipe the blood from her lips, or glance at the young lady who was slowly bleeding out right in front of them and rejoined the conversation at the table. "Ah, the thrill of fresh blood," she exclaimed, her voice filled with a shrewd delight. "There is nothing quite like it."
Damon managed a weak smile, his fangs slightly revealed. "Indeed," he responded.
"You sure you don't want a taste? She's quite fresh."
Damon shook his head.
"No, but thank you for the offer."
Faye was relentless, she continued.
"You know, there's nothing that matches the thrill from drinking straight from the vein..."
Damon smiled at her, a superficial smile.
"Go get the girl cleaned up, we have urgent matters to discuss."
He motioned to the young lady that was stumbling on her feet. The front of her dress was soaked with blood. Faye had made such a mess.
Faye stood up, her eyes on Damon as she left with the young lady.
"Joel has been working on our new strategy, so far, he has examined at least more than half of the attendees in the ball. We have more to go."
Levi started.
Damon nodded.
"Joel, you mentioned something about an anonymous call. Did you check it out?"
Joel sat up in his chair.
"Yes. I have our contacts in San Francisco searching, but I don't think it's a real lead..."
"Don't leave any stone unturned. We don't have that much time left to complete the ritual."
Faye said as she walked back in.
Joel rolled his eyes.
"I'm positive that we will find her before the time lapses."
"Did you find out who made the anonymous call?"
Damon asked and Joel shrugged.
"It was made from a burner cell, I have a contact looking into it but it will take a while."
"I don't think she's in San Francisco though, I think she's here in this town." Romulus sounded very confident, Damon looked at him thoughtfully, pondering on his words. Faye glared at him with her depthless black eyes and gave him a response.
"We have scoured the whole town, my Lord." she said softly. "But our efforts have yielded no results. Sometimes it is as though she vanished from existence."
Damon clenched his fists, his voice trembling with unspoken emotions. "I cannot rest until I find her," he declared, his gaze unwavering.
"There is too much that depends on her. And now with talks of the sire line..."
Joel placed a reassuring hand on Damon's shoulder, offering solace amidst the confusion. "We are with you, my lord," he vowed, his voice filled with loyalty. "We will continue the search, for as long as it takes, until we reunite you with your bride."
..............................
Bathed in the warm glow of the afternoon sun, the study exuded an air of sophistication. Mahogany bookcases adorned the walls, their shelves brimming with leather-bound tomes, each whispering tales of knowledge and wisdom. A grand oak desk took center stage, polished to a gleaming sheen, displaying an array of intricate stationary and a golden inkwell. Above, an exquisite chandelier cascaded delicate crystal droplets, casting dancing rainbows upon the rich Persian carpet that blanketed the floor.
Carolyn Wright sat behind the desk, her eyes looking at her phone eagerly. She had been watching Caelia through the cameras and there was an air of mystery surrounding the girl that she couldn't explain. She waited patiently, she had sent for some tea and she had specifically requested for Caelia to deliver it. The door to the study suddenly swung open, revealing Caelia standing on the threshold. Even with the simple maid's attire that she wore, Caelia was far from ordinary. Her thick black hair that was in a braid had strands that framed her face perfectly, even with the drabness of the attire, one could see her figure peeking out from the uniform, the slenderness of her waist and the flare of her hips. She had the most beautiful eyes too. And even with a pale face scrubbed clean, devoid of makeup or any adornment, she was a beautiful sight to behold. Carolyn could hardly blame Damon for having his eyes on her, she stood out, she was a beautiful little thing, how could he not notice her?
Or could it be because of the blood bond?
The concept of blood bonds was a large myth in their community, because vampires, especially ones like them rarely gave their blood to humans to heal them. It was a secret that they had preserved for centuries, that vampire blood had the power to heal humans and it was one that they used sparingly. She partly remembered that the reason why she had used Damon's blood for Caelia was out of curiosity. The child was so sick, she had thought she would die or that it would not work, but it did work. And she had lived so long too. And now, Damon had fallen for her, even if he refused to admit it, she knew her son and she could see the truth.
All she wanted was that they found his bride early enough so he could move on from her.
Caelia clutched a tray, bearing a steaming cup of tea, in her hands and approached the desk with measured steps, trying her best not to disturb the silence. This was the very first time Carolyn had specifically requested that she should deliver her tea for her and she had been very nervous when she heard the news.
Carolyn peered down at Caelia, her expression remaining impassive, as if studying a curious specimen. The contrast between their appearances and stations in life was stark, a reminder of the privilege the Wrights held, while Caelia lived a life of servitude. A flicker of superiority danced in Carolyn's eyes, a subtle satisfaction at the imbalance of power.
Leave it there, Caelia," she said, her voice laced with an air of authority. Caelia carefully placed the tray on the edge of the desk, her fingers trembling slightly under her piercing gaze. As Carolyn lifted the cup, her perfectly manicured fingers delicately clasping the porcelain, she savored the aroma of the tea. Then she took a small sip and dropped the cup gently. Then she looked at Caelia again.
"Margaret tells me you broke a vase."
"Yes ma'am."
Caelia replied.
"And how do you intend to pay for it?"
Caelia was quiet for a while, then she replied in defiance.
"I don't intend to pay for it."
"Excuse me?"
Mrs Wright asked.
"I don't have the money to pay for the vase."
"Well, you should have thought of that before breaking it, shouldn't you?"
Caelia looked up and glared at her.
"I didn't break it on purpose. It was an accident."
Carolyn tilted her head.
"Accident or not, you deserve to be punished."
"Then punish me."
Caelia replied boldly, waiting for Carolyn's next statement.
Carolyn tilted her head and stared at her. There was something different in the way she talked to her, she didn't sound as fearful of her as she did before. What changed?
"There's one thing you can do for me."
"What's that?"
"Give me your hand."
Caelia furrowed her eyebrows.
"What?"
She asked as she stretched out her hand.
Carolyn Wright stood up slowly, walking towards Caelia. Caelia noticed the letter opener in her hand a little too late.
"Don't worry, I only need just a little of your blood."
She whispered as she took her wrist, she noticed a previous faint scar on her wrist.
Carolyn squinted at it.
"What's this?"
She asked.
Caelie stammered.
"I cut myself while working in the kitchen."
It was the scar she had gotten from that night at the ball, it had taken a ridiculous amount of time to heal and the scar had been so prominent that she had been unable to wear anything but long sleeves for a really long time.
Carolyn didn't look convinced, but she let it go.
"I only need a little."
"Of what?"
Caelia asked, fear creeping in her voice.
"Of your blood."
With that, Carolyn pressed the letter opener on Caelia's skin, blood welled from the wound and Carolyn brought the letter opener stained with Caelia's blood to her face, Caelia thought she was going to lick it, but the woman only took a sniff of it and her eyes widened in realization.
It had been years since Damon donated his blood to Caelia, over a decade even and yet she could still smell her son's blood in the girl's blood.
The blood bond was real.
She was linked to him.