Beware the eerie calm; beneath it, lies the storm's hidden wrath.
Darkness... A figure drenched in blood... I must run, I must escape...
My eyes snapped open, and I shot up in bed as if my very soul was trying to flee. A breathless gasp escaped me as I stared around the room in a daze, my heart pounding like a war drum. When I realized I was dreaming, I slumped back against my pillow, pulling it tightly to my chest. The fear still gripped me, and I couldn't shake the feeling that something awful had just passed through me. I'd never been so terrified in my life.
"Good morning," Alice's voice broke through the haze and he pressed a mug of hot cocoa into my hand.
"Thanks," I mumbled.
Alice had already made me breakfast as a thank-you for letting him crash at my place. I shoved a fried egg into my mouth with barely a thought when a soft knock echoed from the door. Alice ignored it completely, continuing to sip his cocoa like the knock wasn't happening.
But something in my gut told me Des had already visited this morning—several times, probably. I almost felt bad for him. Almost. But then I turned to face Alice, and I saw it—the dark, unsettling aura surrounding him. It felt like the universe was trying to send a message. I decided my brother was better off outside.
The knocking became more insistent, transforming into full-on banging, when the little patience he had left ran out, the hunter simply kicked the door down. The fork fell from my hand. What the hell did he think to just kick my door down? Did he even think? Who the hell's gonna pay for that?!
I was about to open my mouth to say something, Des seemed to read my mind because he said:
"I swear I'll fix it."
Well, that was it. I clamped my mouth shut, fighting the urge to strangle someone with my own hands. That could wait. So I sat back watching my life unfold like the most cringe-worthy, low-budget soap opera ever made.
Alice, of course, seemed perfectly unbothered, continuing to ignore the world around him as he nonchalantly ate his breakfast.
Des, on the other hand, finally spoke up, his voice a mix of irritation and reluctant honesty. "I... overdid things last night."
Alice glanced up from his plate, but the look he gave my brother could have been described as disinterested at best. My brother just stood there, wearing that trademark "don't-bother-waiting-for-me-to-apologize-because-I'm-not-going-to-do-it" expression.
"Sorry, okay?" Des muttered.
Alice didn't even flinch. He just kept staring at Des, like he was trying to figure out if my brother had just landed from another planet.
"I'm really sorry," Des tried again, his tone edging on desperation, his words now tumbling out like he was racing against some invisible clock. "I regret it. It won't happen again, I swear."
I chewed my scrambled eggs like they were the most tasteless thing on Earth. I saw it—the cracks in Alice's cold, indifferent facade, and it was as if the seer had finally reached his breaking point. He smiled.
"Darling, you've been a bit too much," Alice said, his voice light and teasing, "will you get out so I can finally get some sleep?"
There was no anger in his tone, just a level of exhaustion that was almost palpable. It seemed my instincts were spot-on: Des had been knocking for ages. How the hell had I managed to sleep through that?
"So everything's OK now?" Des asked, a cocky grin on his face. "I mean, show me another guy who can tell someone to leave and still have him hanging around. And you've gotta admit, I'm hot stuff. It would be a crime to miss me! Hell, I could have taken offense to your words..."
Alice raised an eyebrow. "Don't you want to be a little offended?"
Des gave a dramatic eye roll and leaned in so close to Alice, I was convinced they were one ill-timed breath away from making it way too intimate. "Oh, stop it," Des muttered, his face dangerously close to Alice's.
I cleared my throat loudly.
"Okay, okay," I said, holding up my hands. "I know you love each other, this is starting to get a little too intimate for me."
"Piss off, Shay," my miserable brother growled, completely unfazed, and kept going like I wasn't even there.
Luckily Alice stopped him in time before I had to claw my eyes out.
Des was the embodiment of hypocrisy. Resting his chin on Alice's shoulder, he looked up with those wide, innocent blue eyes of his. If you didn't know better, you'd think he was an angel sent from heaven. Oh, Gods, save us from this beast in disguise.
"There's something you need to see," Alice said, his voice suddenly all business as he shoved the future diary in Des's face.
Des froze, his expression unreadable. "Is this...?"
Alice didn't need to finish the sentence. His face alone answered Des's unspoken question with a grave seriousness that made my stomach churn.
"I have to take it to the Crosspherat," Des said grimly. "Maybe they can figure out something new if they examine it there."
The seer nodded. Soon after, I left for school with Alice, and Des, as promised, took the diary with him.
(...)
Wednesday was another grueling, exhausting day. And of course, it was twice as draining without Alex by my side. Especially, since we had group assignments in literature—my absolute favorite, clearly.
"I'm Moses," he said, breaking into my internal monologue. Not that I hadn't already heard of Misfortune Mose. "Wanna partner up?"
I shot him the stink eye. I didn't even know who he was—or, more accurately, I knew exactly who he was—but did we really need to be friends? No, thanks. Still, I let out a resigned sigh. I had to work with someone, right?
"'Kay," I muttered, before turning to the teacher, who had arrived at our desk with the kind of determination that suggested she was ready to dictate our futures.
It was in that moment, staring at the teacher's eager face, that it hit me: school was basically for people who feared being alone. For those who needed constant interaction, whether they liked the people around them or not. Being a student meant endlessly studying as if your very survival depended on it, forcing yourself to socialize, joining the collective misery, and suffering together.
And that, I realized, was not my thing. Not without Alex, anyway. So, doing what I always did when the weight of the world felt too much, I slipped away to the bench hidden in the bushes. I needed an hour of silence to get my head together, away from all the humans.
Jo didn't come looking for me this time, but I knew it was because she hadn't realized I was missing. She always used to find me—without fail. And, if I was honest, I was starting to like her more than I expected. When exactly that shift happened, I couldn't pinpoint, but there was one moment I remembered clearly.
She plopped down next to me on the bench, making a face like this rundown, hidden spot was the most exciting seat in the entire school. I didn't say anything as I took another drag from my cigarette, letting the smoke curl up between us while she fidgeted with the zipper of her jacket.
After a while, I sighed.
"What?"
"Ah," she glanced up, her eyes soft with some unspoken thought. "Nothing."
I raised an eyebrow, skeptical.
"I just wanted to be alone," she muttered, her voice almost too quiet.
I smirked. "I don't think you understand the meaning of the word." I gestured between us. "You can't be alone when there are two of us."
I was about to get up and walk away, but Jo stopped me with a light touch. She only grabbed my coat sleeve, but it was as if her whole world depended on holding it. I found myself stuck between sitting and standing, awkwardly frozen in place. It was uncomfortable and made me look like an idiot, so I had no choice but to sit back down.
Since Jo wasn't letting go, dragging her to class would be a challenge I wasn't keen to explain. She didn't want me to leave, but she remained silent, her lips opening nervously now and then, like she wanted to say something but couldn't quite figure out the right words.
I sighed again, breaking the stillness. "What is it?"
"Nothing, just..." she said and was quiet for a moment before continuing, "I envy you a little."
"Nothing, just..." She trailed off, and after a beat, added, "I envy you a little."
I shot her a grin, the kind that always felt
a bit too self-assured. Jo pursed her lips in response, and we sat in silence for a moment longer. I thought maybe that would be the end of it, but she whispered to herself, almost as if she hadn't meant for me to hear.
"You seem so free," she murmured, her voice barely audible. "You don't care what anyone thinks of you. You can do whatever you want."
I took another drag from my cigarette, the acrid smoke stinging as I pulled it deep into my lungs. I held it there for a long moment before letting it out in a slow exhale. I guess I had always been that way.
Hunters hated me—deeply, viscerally—so I never worried about being disliked more. No matter what I did, there was always something to scorn. I got used to that long ago, and after a while, I stopped caring about their opinions. It became second nature not to care about anyone's.
"Everyone had high expectations of me ever since I was a kid," Jo said softly, her voice tinged with frustration. "Sometimes I just want to say no. Sometimes, I just don't want to be the good girl anymore."
I met her gaze, already knowing what I had to say. "Then there's only one thing you can do," I replied. Jo looked up at me, her wide green eyes curious and questioning.
I gave her a small smile. "You just don't have to give a shit about other people's opinions."
After that, we fell into a comfortable silence. Jo seemed lost in thought, while I contentedly smoked my cigarette, not realizing the weight of what I had said. I didn't see the effect until the next day, when Jo showed up with bleached blond hair and bold, glamorous makeup.
Most people barely recognized her. Me? I was so taken aback, I had to stop for a moment and stare. Alex leaned in beside me, his voice tinged with worry. "Is everything okay with our class's pretty little flower?"
I didn't know the answer to that question. Honestly, I didn't.
It took the class a whole week to adjust to her new look. More than that, they had to accept that Jo wasn't handing out homework anymore. It wasn't exactly earth-shattering, but I noticed a shift in her—she seemed more at ease, more herself.
By the end of the week, no one stared at her like she'd sprouted a second head. And by then, I found her back on my usual bench, skipping physics class with me.
She plopped down beside me, grinning like she'd just pulled off something brilliant.
"So, what do you think of my new look?" Jo asked with a self-assured grin.
I exhaled a cloud of smoke, letting it swirl in the air before I answered. "Blonde doesn't really suit you."
Her smile faltered for a second, but I wasn't done yet.
"Though, that confidence? It's sexy," I added, flashing her a charming smile.
Her smile returned, and I felt a small sense of victory. I took another drag of my cigarette, feeling pleased with myself.
"Can I have a cigarette?" she asked, her tone casual but expectant.
I raised an eyebrow, sizing her up, but with that look in her eyes, there was no turning her down. I pulled out my pack, and she selected a cigarette with a graceful flick of her fingers.
"Light?" I asked.
She nodded, bringing the cigarette to her lips.
I flicked the lighter open, and she leaned in closer, sticking the cigarette into the flame. Her movements were a little shaky, but there was something in her gaze—determination. It made her look even more captivating than usual.
"You should suck on it properly, girl," I teased, a grin tugging at my lips.
Jo's cheeks flushed a little, and she took a bold drag. The cigarette sputtered out a little, and she immediately started coughing. For the first time in my life, I thought a human was cute.
And just like that, my hiding place was no longer just mine. It was ours.
I found myself talking to Coffee again.
"What do you know about vampire-blood dealers?" I asked, cutting straight to the point.
Vampire blood is addictive—just a drop is enough to hook someone. It's said to be as sweet as the finest nectar, and for a brief moment, it consumes you completely. The spiritual healing it provides is accompanied by subtle physical restoration. I've read about hunters who captured vampires, using their blood to fortify their own bodies. It made them immune to human diseases and significantly improved their physical condition.
What most people don't know is that vampires' true power lies in their ability to regenerate. If any part of a vampire's body is severed, as long as it's sewn back on properly, they could use them in a few days. That's why hunters always burn their bodies, even after decapitation—better safe than sorry.
Vampires have a strict taboo against drinking the blood of their own kind. But of course, there are exceptions. I'm one of them. It's not as potent or sweet as theirs but my blood isn't addictive.
"Rumor has it that the Crosspherate has one of their best hounds on the case," she replied, her voice steady.
"Indeed," I nodded, then narrowed my eyes, "But what is it that I don't know, that you do?"
Coffee paused, thinking deeply.
"I heard the Fifth is involved," she said at last.
"Why would he be selling vampire blood?" I frowned, confused by the implication.
"That's how he pulls humans in," she shrugged nonchalantly. "You know, you have to feed an army. They lure humans to them, and once those humans taste vampire blood, they're hooked—unable to escape. It's a pretty clever tactic, when you think about it."
I shifted in my seat, thoughts swirling. "How's your dad handling the case?"
She locked eyes with me, as though debating whether to reveal the truth.
"Not well," she confessed after a pause. "His army's bigger than ours now. The problem stretches far beyond what we can control."
I hesitated for a moment, then asked, "Is war coming?"
I should have known the answer already, but she nodded grimly.
"Most certainly."
Coffee's gaze darkened, the weight of the situation pressing down on her. "We'll need to keep an eye on Jo," she said, her voice low.
I raised an eyebrow, already sensing where this was going. "So what's the plan?"
She met my eyes, steady and resolute. "I'll make sure to accompany her on her way to school and back when I can. You should do the same. We can't afford to leave her vulnerable, not with what's happening."
I exhaled slowly, feeling the weight of the responsibility settling over me. "Fine," I said.
We both fell silent, the gravity of the situation pressing down on us. It wasn't just about keeping Jo safe. It was about navigating a web of lies, half-truths, and hidden enemies, all while trying to keep her oblivious to the darker side of the world she was living in.