I opened my eyes to sunlight slicing through the curtains, falling in a bright bar straight across the bed. The warmth pressed heavy on my skin. I tried to move and felt the exhaustion in every part of , deep, bone-heavy, like sothing vital had been drained.
That wasn’t a normal release, I thought, forcing myself upright. My arms trembled slightly as I pushed up. I had poured sothing real out of myself last night. The marking had cost in a way regular charging never had.
A sound from the living room. Knocking, three soft, deliberate raps.
I sat up fully. The hunger arrived all at once, deeper than ordinary hunger, the specific emptiness of a body that had spent sothing significant. I glanced at myself in the wall mirror. Shirtless, hair disheveled, eyes shadowed with bruises of fatigue and sothing darker lurking beneath.
Probably Sherry, I thought, and sothing tightened sharply in my chest at the na.
I stood, legs unsteady for a mont, and walked to the door. A folded note had been forced underneath it, the edge of white paper just visible against the threshold. I picked it up, slid it into my pocket without reading, and opened the door.
"Hey." Carrise stood there with a tray of covered plates and a tall glass of juice, wearing a light dress that clung softly to her body, the fabric draping over her curves with gentle, flowing lines. "Good morning."
"Good morning," I said, stepping aside to let her in, my voice rough with sleep and unspoken weight. "I was actually starving."
She passed , expensive perfu trailing in her wake, clean floral with a warr base note. She set the tray on the low table in front of the couch and turned toward .
"You look good," she said, fingers brushing lightly across my bare chest before catching my hand to guide to the sofa. "Eat."
"Haven’t even brushed," I said, settling onto the cushions and reaching for the tray.
She perched on the arm of the couch and watched as I uncovered the plate. Warm cookies, still soft in the middle.
"I didn’t thank you for last night," she said.
"It’s fine," I said, biting into one. The sweetness spread across my tongue.
"I enjoyed every mont of it," she continued, voice softer. "Did you?"
I finished the cookie. "Yeah."
"There’s sothing I want to tell you," she said, her voice dropping.
"Now?"
"Yeah."
I looked at her. The note burning in my pocket. The hunger gnawing deeper. The exhaustion still sitting in my limbs. The fourth floor above . And Carrise Vale — marked, bound, and sitting on the arm of my couch with sothing she wanted to say.
"Go ahead," I said.
She leaned in slightly, the light dress shifting against her thighs, dark eyes steady on mine. The morning sun caught the side of her face, highlighting the smooth line of her jaw and the faint flush still lingering on her skin from the night before.
"First," she said, "my na isn’t Catarina. I’m sorry I lied."
"It’s okay," I said, biting into another cookie.
"My na is Carrise."
"Carrise," I repeated, keeping my eyes on the plate. "That’s a nice na."
She stood from the arm of the couch and walked to the window, her bare feet padding softly across the floor. Her fingers caught the edge of the thick curtain and pulled it aside. Morning sunlight poured in, sharp and unforgiving, landing directly on her in a blinding bar of gold.
I watched her transform.
The change was instant and violent. Her skin burned at the surface, faint smoke rising in thin white wisps. Her teeth sharpened, elongating into fangs that pressed against her lower lip with visible strain. The veins along her arms and neck flared brighter, pulsing like living things beneath the surface, dark and prominent. Her eyes flashed with that unnatural depth as she winced, shoulders curling inward against the light.
I crossed the room fast, feet silent on the floor, and yanked the curtain closed. The room plunged back into soft shadow. I pulled her against , arms wrapping around her waist, one hand cradling the back of her head.
"That’s who I am," she whispered against my shoulder, voice tight. "I didn’t want to keep anything from you."
"It’s okay, Carrise," I said, holding her tighter. Her body trembled once, then slowly relaxed against mine as the burning subsided. Her skin cooled under my palms, returning to its smooth, normal state.
I kept my arms around her waist as we walked back to the couch together. She settled beside , legs folding beneath her, the light dress whispering against her thighs.
"You’re a vampire," I said, in the tone of soone who had just been told sothing he was pretending to hear for the first ti.
"Yes. All my family are." She paused, fingers tracing the edge of the couch cushion. "But I feel like sothing has changed inside ."
"What do you an?"
"I don’t know exactly," she said. "I just feel... at peace. Like I’m finally whole, and there’s no need to fight the bloodthirst anymore."
I kept eating and said nothing, the cookie crumbling between my fingers.
"My sister is coming tonight," she said after a mont. "She’ll stay two days. I’d like you to et her."
I looked up from the plate.
"You know I ran away from ho," she continued, "but I’ve stayed in touch with her. She’s a bit different from the rest of them. I want to introduce you."
Her sister, I thought. Another Vale woman. Another na on the list. Is it Celestine?
"I’m okay with that," I said.
She smiled, soft and relieved, and stood. "Thank you for not making this difficult." She leaned down and kissed my cheek, lips warm and lingering for a second. "I’ll see you soon."
She walked out, closing the door quietly behind her.
I sat with the half-eaten cookies and the empty plate, staring at the closed door. Another Vale woman was coming to this building tonight. Whoever she was, the hunt was tilting further in my favor.
They’re about to cross, I thought, brushing crumbs from my fingers.
The ga had just beco much more interesting.
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