Layla gulped nervously.
"Who... who are you? What do you want from me? I don't have any money..."
Her mind was spinning with fear. She started recalling the moment everything went black and then, suddenly, she was in this strange place. Was it some kind of magic trick? Or maybe real magic? Were these people even human?
A voice answered her question:
"Little girl, we only need you as a hostage. As long as you behave, we won't harm you."
"Hostage? For whom?"
Layla asked in confusion. Could they be planning to use her to threaten her parents? Were they debt collectors? Had her parents gone bankrupt, or had they offended someone?
But fortunately, these people only took her and not Andrew. Layla let out a silent sigh of relief. However, just as that thought crossed her mind, a voice suddenly shouted:
"Let her go!"
Even without seeing the newcomer, Layla knew it was Andrew. She was far too familiar with his voice. Seeing him appear, Layla immediately screamed:
"Andrew, run! Get away! Go, call the police!"
"My, my, this little sister sure knows how to joke around. Humans are always so amusing, no wonder Count Andrew wanted to stay here and refused to return."
The person behind Layla tightened his grip on her neck, not only preventing her from speaking but also making it hard for her to breathe. Layla struggled like a fish on the chopping block, her face turning crimson from lack of oxygen.
"I said, let her go!"
Andrew roared and rushed forward like a gust of wind. Even though Layla was at her weakest moment, her mind suddenly cleared. She stared blankly at the scene unfolding before her, then remembered the way these people had addressed Andrew—Count.
What's happening?
This must be a dream, or maybe these people are just acting, right? "Count" is an ancient title from hundreds of years ago. And what does Andrew have to do with them for them to call him that?
But contrary to her expectations, Andrew didn't object.
It was as if he had known these people for a long time, and the title felt natural, almost familiar.
Layla's confusion grew as she watched Andrew fighting the men. His speed was unbelievably fast, and his leaps and flips left her in awe—no athlete she had ever seen could move like that.
What... what is this?
"Count Andrew, we're glad to have found your weakness. If you don't come back with us, we'll kill this girl. After all, young blood tastes delicious. And after we're done with her, we might as well pay a visit to those two people in the house over there. It would make for a splendid feast."
Young blood tastes delicious...
A splendid feast...
Those disgusting words sent chills down Layla's spine. She turned to look at the man holding her neck and saw two sharp white fangs growing from his mouth. Vampires!
"Ah! Andrew, help me!"
Layla screamed in terror as the fangs brushed against her neck. At that moment, she saw something in Andrew's eyes that she had never seen before—a deep, overwhelming fear. He shouted:
"Stop right now!"
"Count Andrew, this girl and her family have nothing to do with you. Why are you hesitating? This world isn't yours; you belong with us. Humans are just food for us. Do you really think if you tell this girl the truth, she won't be afraid of you? She'll leave you the moment she finds out what you truly are."
Andrew's gaze shifted to Layla, filled with complicated emotions.
As for her, it was as if every nerve in her body had gone numb. Even though the vampire's fangs were grazing her neck, she felt no fear. The only thought running through her mind was: *the truth*.
"Andrew… what is happening?" Layla asked in confusion. Right now, she couldn't care less about anything else around her. All that mattered was Andrew. When she voiced the question, it was as if she already knew the answer deep down, but she asked anyway, hoping, praying that it wasn't true.
If only this were a joke. But no, Andrew never joked, and he would never concoct such an elaborate prank to mess with her. Never.
Tears welled up in Layla's eyes as she waited for Andrew's response. Or more accurately, she waited for a denial. But to her dismay, Andrew remained silent.
That silence was an answer in itself.
"Andrew…"
"Layla, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry I didn't tell you sooner. I'm... I'm really... a vampire."
"No, that can't be!" Layla screamed, refusing to believe it. It was too surreal, too much like a nightmare. If Andrew was a vampire, then what did that make her? But more than anyone, she knew she was just an ordinary human.
Layla took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. She recalled what these people had said earlier—Andrew didn't belong among humans, and he wasn't related to her family. What did that mean?
"Seeing this little girl so heartbroken, anyone would feel sorry for her. But Count Andrew, today you have to choose. If you come back with us to the castle, we'll let her and her family live. But if you refuse, I'll drain her blood dry and make her into a lifeless corpse, and her parents won't be spared either. Or perhaps we won't kill them; we'll just let them die of grief after losing their only daughter."
The man's vicious words made Layla seethe with rage. She looked at Andrew, who was now staring at the ground, fists clenched tightly as if battling an internal war. Layla couldn't bear it any longer. So what if he was a vampire? All she knew was that Andrew was her family.
"Andrew, don't think about it anymore. When I was little, Mom would force me to eat vegetables because they were good for me, but I didn't want to, so I cried. You told me back then not to do things I didn't want to. It's the same now. You don't have to do what you don't want to. I'm not afraid, and Mom and Dad won't be either. I won't live without you. We need to be together to be a family."
Layla's bold declaration made the vampires turn their eyes toward her. The man holding her neck tightened his grip slightly, as if just a bit more force would cause his nails to pierce her skin. Layla's brow furrowed in pain and shortness of breath, but she quickly realized that she couldn't show any emotion. Because her emotions would affect Andrew.