"Mr. Gilbert?" Will froze for a moment, then quickly turned around with a smile, "What are you doing here? It's not time to clock off yet."
"No class. Left early," Damon replied, walking to the hospital bed and glancing at the IV drip.
He gently flicked his fingers, tapping away the air bubbles in the drip bag.
In the sunlight, his side profile was stunning, bathed in a patchwork of light, with sharp, defined features and elegant curves. Dressed simply in a white shirt, he stood tall and composed. His chestnut-colored hair was soft and glossy, and his skin was so pale it almost looked translucent. His face was strikingly handsome, but his expression was distant, almost cold. His light brown eyes were deep, void of warmth, and his lips, slightly pink, were sparse in expression. There was an undeniable aura of death surrounding him.
"Mr. Gilbert?" Elena squinted slightly, her mind made up.
Yes, this was the one.
He knew her name—Elena!
She only had one thought: he must be a vampire hunter.
"Hello, I'm Damon." Damon finished adjusting the drip, then turned around and gave her a brief glance before handing over a business card.
Elena took it, her dark eyes flickering with a fleeting, unreadable gleam before she said, "Your name is very similar to an old acquaintance of mine… though he's been dead for a long time."
"Miss Trevino, I must remind you that your comparison is rather inappropriate," Damon spoke lightly, his tone distant, almost detached.
Will, sensing the shift in tension, quickly intervened. "Mr. Gilbert, would you like to continue your conversation? I have something I need to take care of."
"Sure. Be back before two. I still have a class this afternoon."
"Got it, understood!" Will grabbed his bag and hurried out. When big players go head-to-head, the small fry like him knew to stay out of it.
"When can I be discharged?" Elena was uncomfortable with the hospital's sterile smell, and more importantly, she wasn't sure what kind of person this man was. Her powers weren't fully recovered, and she wasn't confident about going head-to-head with him just yet.
Also, she didn't want to risk losing control and feeding off some well-meaning young doctor just to ease her hunger. Expired blood was way too disgusting.
Damon walked over to the window, drawing the blinds to block out the last of the sunlight. He rested one hand on the windowsill and said, "I'll come pick you up in three days."
"Why? What's your game?" Since Damon arrived, Elena had sensed a strong, ominous presence. The man carried an intense aura of death, blood, and violence.
Damon lowered his gaze slightly, his lips curling into a faint smile as he spoke, "Monster, do you need me to expose your true form?"
It was said that Elena's eyes were silver in color—usually a light silver-gray.
"Monster? What the hell! Am I supposed to drink your blood or suck your whole family dry? Based on my family's status, you, a foreign hunter, barely even qualify as a half-decent Taoist priest!" Elena sneered, a fire igniting in her chest.
She had been tempted to throw a blood bag at him, but on second thought, she reconsidered. She was starving.
"Taoist priest?" In the dimming light, Damon's expression grew even colder and more unfathomable.
He turned and started walking out, coolly throwing back a parting shot: "In three days, you won't be able to leave."
He had set up a barrier.
"Well, if I can't leave, then I won't," Elena smirked cryptically, completely unconcerned. She liked his handsome face, but more importantly, she needed to figure out who he really was.
"What about my food?" Elena suddenly remembered something important. She needed fresh blood.
"You won't starve." Damon's voice echoed from the hallway as he ascended the stairs, his footsteps fading.
Elena stared at the half-open door, lost in thought. That business card Damon had given her earlier had a raised embossed mark on it—"Vampire Hunters."
Damn it! Was he warning her?
Three days later, Elena, wearing a long golden wig, was led by Damon to his home.
It was a farmhouse located in the outskirts of Windy City. The yard had a two-story house with simple, aged décor. In front of the house was a garden and a small vegetable patch. The garden had a swing set and wicker chairs. The vegetable patch had seasonal greens, and there was a grapevine that stretched across the entire courtyard.
The backyard had three dogs—what people affectionately called the "sled dogs": a Husky, an Alaskan Malamute, and a Samoyed.
Under the house was a basement, which served as Damon's workshop. It was filled with various hunting weapons, including an ancient Verdant Soulblade, mysterious and ancient Taoist texts, and vampire hunting materials. There were also annual papers from the Vampire Enforcement Agency (VEA) and various silver powder medicines.
Elena entered the yard for the first time, surveying the small garden, and nodded in approval. "Not bad. Looks like it's perfect for brewing flower tea."
"It's poisonous," Damon replied, carrying a cold pack and walking past her.
Elena walked over to the swing set and gave it a gentle push. "Do you have women here?"
"Used to," Damon's voice drifted in the wind, brushing past Elena's ear.
Elena walked under the grapevine and mused, "I guess in autumn, I'll be able to drink some wine made from these, right?"
"You're dreaming. They're sold, not drunk," Damon replied flatly, his arms crossed, expression unreadable.
Suddenly, the dogs in the backyard started barking, particularly the overly excited Samoyed.
"Woof!"
Elena's expression twisted as she revealed her sharp Lunar Trace Teeth, instantly scaring the three dogs back into their kennel.
Damon, holding a bowl of dog food, walked over and glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. "Aren't you supposed to be a purebred Vampire Clan? What's the deal with picking fights with dogs?"
"True," Elena withdrew her teeth with a smirk. "These dumb dogs really do take after their owner."
Damon froze for a moment, his back stiffening. The bowl of dog food in his hand slipped, spilling all over the ground.
Is she insulting him?
Elena wandered into the vegetable patch, looking at the flourishing greenery, and couldn't help but ask, "Damon, why don't you pull up the weeds? Are you saving them to play soccer?"
Damon shot her a disdainful look. "Those are vegetables, Fluffy vegetables."
At noon, Damon really did pick a pot of Fluffy vegetables from the garden and paired them with a block of tofu. He made a hearty stew with fatty pork, Fluffy vegetables, and tofu.
Elena grabbed a few blood bags from the fridge, drank them down, and then smirked, looking at the food. "Poor humans, resorting to eating grass now."
Elena turned her gaze away, clearly uninterested in further conversation. She lifted her chin and continued to taunt him, "Stupid humans, ignorant humans, pathetic humans, eating grass humans..."