Marcus stepped out of The Black Swan, a rare smile playing on his lips. The encounter with the woman at the bar lingered in his mind, her fiery spirit a refreshing change from the usual. It had been far too long since anyone had sparked his interest like that.
As he walked to his car, Marcus couldn't shake the image of her defiant blue eyes and the way she'd stood up to him. Most humans cowered in his presence, maybe sensing the predator beneath the surface. But not her. She'd met his gaze unflinchingly, matching his arrogance with her own.
Marcus slid into the driver's seat of his sleek black Aston Martin, the engine purring to life with a touch. He should be heading back to the sanctuary, where Lucian and the rest of the coven waited. But something tugged at him, an old memory stirring.
With a start, Marcus realized what day it was. How could he have forgotten? It had been nearly a year since his last visit. Without conscious thought, his hands turned the steering wheel, guiding the car away from the city center and towards the outskirts.
The drive was long, giving Marcus plenty of time to reminisce.
He'd been human once, centuries ago. A wealthy businessman with a sprawling estate and a staff of loyal servants. That life seemed like a dream now, hazy and distant. But he clung to it, making his yearly pilgrimage back to the place that had once been home.
As he turned onto the familiar driveway, Marcus felt a weight settle in his chest. The mansion loomed before him, grand and imposing as ever. Lights blazed in several windows, a welcoming beacon in the night.
Before he could even cut the engine, the front door swung open.
Thomas, the elderly butler whose family had served Marcus' family for generations, hurried down the steps. His weathered face broke into a wide smile as Marcus emerged from the car.
"Master Marcus," Thomas said, bowing slightly. "We've been expecting you."
Marcus nodded, a lump forming in his throat. When he'd first turned, he'd tried to send the staff away. It wasn't safe for them to stay, he'd argued. But they had refused, swearing to maintain the estate until his return. Their loyalty still astounded him.
"Thomas," Marcus greeted, his voice gruff with emotion. "The place looks good."
"We do our best, sir," Thomas replied. "Will you be staying long?"
Marcus shook his head. " Not long. I have... business to attend to."
Understanding flashed in Thomas' eyes. Without another word, he stepped aside, allowing Marcus to enter the house.
Inside, everything was just as Marcus remembered. The grand foyer with its sweeping staircase, the priceless artwork adorning the walls, the antique furniture passed down through generations. It was like stepping back in time.
Marcus moved through the house, nodding at the few staff members he passed. They all greeted him warmly, as if no time had passed since his last visit. Their acceptance of his changed nature never failed to humble him.
Finally, he reached the master bedroom. Pushing open the heavy oak door, Marcus paused on the threshold. The room was immaculate, not a speck of dust to be seen. Fresh flowers sat in a vase by the window, their sweet scent filling the air.
Marcus' eyes were drawn to the bookshelf that dominated one wall. Row upon row of leather-bound volumes, each one a treasured part of his collection. But it wasn't the books themselves that called to him.
With slow, deliberate steps, Marcus approached the shelf. His hand hovered over the spines, fingers tracing the gilt lettering.
He hesitated, doubt creeping in. Did he really want to do this? To open old wounds and relive painful memories?
But he'd come too far to turn back now. With a deep breath, Marcus selected a book – an old copy of "The Count of Monte Cristo."
The irony wasn't lost on him. He flipped it open, revealing a small silver key nestled in the hollowed-out pages.
Key in hand, Marcus turned to his closet. He pushed aside the expensive suits and shirts, revealing a section of wall that looked no different from the rest.
But as he pressed his palm against it, a faint click sounded. A panel slid back, exposing a hidden door.
The key fit perfectly into the lock. With a turn of his wrist, Marcus heard the mechanism engage. The door swung open silently, revealing a narrow staircase descending into darkness.
Marcus took a deep breath, steeling himself for what lay ahead. As he placed his foot on the third step, lights flickered to life below, illuminating a world few had ever seen.
The basement was vast, far larger than one might expect. It stretched the length of the house, filled with an eclectic array of items that told the story of Marcus' long and complex life.
In the center of the room stood a peculiar contraption. At first glance, it might have been mistaken for some kind of exercise equipment.
Thick chains dangled from various points, their links gleaming in the low light. But the worn leather straps attached to the chains told a different story.
Marcus approached the device, his fingers trailing over the cool metal. The chains clinked softly as he gathered them, winding them around his hands.
With a sudden burst of strength, he yanked hard, testing their durability. They held firm, not even a link out of place.
A flood of memories washed over him. The early days after his turning, when the bloodlust had been nearly uncontrollable. The fear of hurting those he cared about, of losing the last shreds of his humanity.
This contraption had been his salvation and his prison, keeping him restrained during the worst of the cravings.
Marcus closed his eyes, remembering the agony of those long nights. The way his body had burned with need, every cell screaming for blood.
The chains had bit into his skin, leaving marks that took days to heal even with his accelerated healing. But they had held, keeping him from harming anyone.
It had been Lucian who had found him like that, wild-eyed and desperate. The older vampire had seen potential in Marcus, offering him a place in the coven and teaching him to control his urges.
Without Lucian's guidance, Marcus wasn't sure he would have survived those early years.
Opening his eyes, Marcus surveyed the rest of the basement.
In one corner stood a padded bench, designed for a person to bend over. Over the years, he'd left it untouched, a relic of his human past.
Another caught his eye – a large X-shaped frame where a person could be restrained with arms and legs spread wide.
Marcus ran his hands over it, memories of past pleasures flickering through his mind.
But it was the large bed that drew his attention. Marcus walked to it, running his fingers over the intricate carvings he had designed himself.
At first glance, it looked like a regular bed, but closer inspection revealed various attachment points for restraints.
He noticed something sticking out under the plush pillows. Immediately, he recognized the photo album.
Inside lay a collection of photographs, yellowed with age. He pulled one out, a sad smile tugging at his lips.
The photo showed a younger version of himself – or at least, the human he had once been. Beside him stood a beautiful woman, her eyes crinkled with laughter.
Elena, his wife. The love of his human life, lost to time while he remained unchanged.
Marcus traced her face with a gentle finger, memories flooding back. Their courtship, their wedding day, the plans they'd made for the future.
All of it cut short by the vampire who had turned him, leaving Elena a widow.
He'd watched over her from afar after his turning, making sure she was taken care of financially.
But he'd never revealed himself, knowing it would only cause her pain.
Elena had lived a long life, remarrying and having children. Her descendants still lived in the city, though they knew nothing of their connection to Marcus.
Carefully, Marcus returned the photo and placed the album back under the pillow. Some memories were too painful to dwell on for long.
As he turned away, Marcus' gaze fell on a full-length mirror tucked away in a corner.
He approached it slowly, studying his reflection. It was a common misconception that vampires couldn't see themselves in mirrors. The truth was far more complex.
Marcus could see himself clearly, but the image seemed... off somehow.
There was a shimmer around the edges, as if his reflection wasn't quite solid. And his eyes... in the mirror, they glowed with an otherworldly light, revealing the predator within.
He stared at himself for a long moment, taking in the face that hadn't changed in centuries. The same strong jawline, the same piercing gray eyes.
But there was a hardness there now, a cold edge that hadn't existed in his human days.
Turning away from the mirror, Marcus' thoughts drifted back to the woman at the bar.
There had been something different about her, a spark that had caught his attention. For a brief moment, he'd felt almost human again in her presence.
But he'd pushed her away, falling back on the gruff persona he'd cultivated over the years. It was safer that way, for both of them. Humans and vampires didn't mix, no matter how intriguing they might be.
Still, he couldn't shake the feeling that their paths would cross again. The city wasn't that large, and The Black Swan attracted an eclectic clientele.
If she returned, would he be able to resist talking to her again?
Marcus shook his head, pushing the thoughts aside.
He had responsibilities to the coven, a role to play in vampire society. There was no room for distractions, no matter how tempting.
With a sigh, Marcus made his way back to the stairs. He paused at the bottom, looking back at the room that held so many memories.
Part of him wanted to stay, to lose himself in the nostalgia of his human life. But that wasn't an option.
As he climbed the stairs, Marcus felt the weight of centuries settling on his shoulders once more. The yearly visit to his old home always left him feeling melancholy, caught between two worlds. He didn't belong in either, not fully.
Back in his bedroom, Marcus carefully replaced the key in its hiding spot. He ran his hand along the spines of the books, a fond farewell to old friends. Then he turned away, heading for the door.
When he emerged from the room, Thomas was waiting with a travel mug. Steam rose from the top, carrying the rich scent of blood mixed with coffee. A way to consume blood in public without drawing attention.
"Will we see you again soon, Sir Marcus?" Thomas asked as they walked to the front door.
Marcus paused, his hand on the doorknob. "I'm not sure," he admitted. "But keep the place ready, just in case."
Thomas nodded, understanding in his eyes. "We always will, sir. Safe travels."
With a final nod to his loyal butler, Marcus stepped out into the night. The cool air helped clear his head, washing away the last traces of nostalgia. He had a job to do, a coven to protect.
As he slid behind the wheel of his car, Marcus took a long sip from the travel mug. The taste of blood mixed with rich coffee danced on his tongue, energizing him for the night ahead. He had a long drive back to the sanctuary.
But as Marcus pulled out of the driveway, his thoughts strayed once more to the woman from the bar.
He couldn't shake the feeling that they would see each other again soon. And next time, he might not be so quick to push her away.
With a small smile, Marcus accelerated down the dark road, leaving his past behind once more.
Whatever the future held, he would face it as he always had – one night at a time.
As he drove, the car's built-in phone system chimed. Marcus tapped the steering wheel, answering the call.
"Marcus," Lucian's voice filled the car, tense and urgent. "Where are you? We have a situation."
Marcus's grip tightened on the wheel. "I'm on my way back now. What's happened?"
"There's been an attack," Lucian said.
Marcus's mind raced.
"I'm ten minutes out," he said, pressing down on the accelerator.
As he ended the call, Marcus couldn't shake the feeling that his carefully ordered world was about to be turned upside down.
And somehow, he had a feeling that fiery woman from the bar would be at the center of it all.
The night, it seemed, was far from over.