Clerk squatted down, scooping up some white powder from the edge of the drink stand. He sniffed it carefully, and his expression instantly changed, his eyes narrowing in realization.
"This is vampire hunter's mist powder," he muttered under his breath. The powder was only effective against humans, rendering them unconscious. It had no effect on vampires. Which meant, if he allowed himself to think bigger, could this be interpreted as someone within the Vampire Enforcement Agency (VEA) having turned traitor?
Before he could process the implications, an unexpected crash disrupted the moment.
Bang!
Elena, flung out of the window by Damon, crashed heavily onto the roof of a red Ferrari Enzo parked below. The impact was loud enough that Mason, who had just parked, witnessed the chaotic scene unfold right before his eyes. He nearly dropped his keys in shock. "Who—who did this?"
A trembling hand appeared from the roof of the car, followed by Elena, who barely managed to lift her head. She groaned, struggling to speak. "Is this car expensive?"
Mason raised an eyebrow, surveying the car. "Eh, it's alright. Around four million for the Ferrari Enzo."
"Oh, then I must be hurt. My arm's definitely broken," Elena said with a sigh, letting her head fall back onto the car, clearly embarrassed by the situation.
Mason chuckled, shaking his head. "You're acting like a little nun, huh?"
"Elena" looked up from the car roof, her eyes narrowing as she shot back, "Acting? Doesn't it seem real enough?"
With a swift motion, Elena sat up, propped herself on the car door, and jumped down, landing effortlessly in front of Mason. Her posture was poised and graceful, a sharp contrast to the messy scene moments ago.
"You want to discuss compensation for the car?" Mason grinned, clearly amused. "How do you plan to pay? Cash, strength, or perhaps a person?"
Elena, unfazed by his mockery, responded bluntly. "I'll pay within my means."
Mason, who had been eyeing her curiously, opened the back of his car and pulled out a suit. He eyed Elena from head to toe, pausing briefly at her smooth neck. "You look like the right size. This should fit."
Elena raised an eyebrow, clearly confused. "What is this?"
"A dress," Mason explained, his tone casual. "I'm going to a luncheon, and I need a partner. Since monks are supposed to be merciful, consider it part of the payment for the car."
Elena frowned. She wasn't here for any of his games, but the prospect of attending a gathering with fresh, enthusiastic youths intrigued her. She asked, "Is it a crowded event?"
Mason shrugged nonchalantly, "Sorry, I'm just a guest. I don't know how big it'll be. As for you, well, I need someone who'll keep their eyes on me."
"Fine," Elena said. "But first, you'll need to take me to buy shoes and a wig. You pay."
Mason, flashing a wide grin, agreed, "Sure! I've got plenty of money. You pick whatever you want."
Elena glared at the Ferrari, her finger tapping the damaged roof. "Are you seriously going to use this car to take me shopping?"
Mason, ever the show-off, threw his arms wide. "Of course not! I have more cars, you know? I take an hour just to pick the right one!"
"Do you have a delusion?" Elena smirked. "That's a sickness, you know. Should probably get it checked."
Mason leaned in suddenly, his body close to hers, his warm breath brushing against her ear. "I do have a sickness. A heart sickness. Do you have medicine for it?"
Elena, never one to miss an opportunity for humor, pulled out a small packet from her pocket. It was labeled "cockroach medicine." "Been hunting cockroaches for decades. Want to try it?"
Mason couldn't help but laugh. He took another car key from his pocket, handing it to her. "Let's go. We'll use the McLaren instead. It's only around 2 million, but it'll still be enough for a nice pair of shoes."
"That's more like it," Elena said, satisfied with his choice. "It's not bad. I like luxury cars."
"Name's Mason. And you are...?" Mason asked casually.
"Elena," she replied.
Mason paused, his brows furrowing slightly. The name felt familiar, but he couldn't quite place it.
Meanwhile, at Serenity Café.
Damon stood at the door, scanning the area but finding no trace of Elena. He suspected she had already gone back, and a brief sense of relief washed over him. The nagging worry he'd felt earlier slowly dissipated.
"Mr. Gilbert, don't we have a public lecture today?" one of the boys asked, scratching his head as he followed Damon out of the café.
The boys had been out drinking and flirting on campus, and if Damon had reported them, they'd be in serious trouble. But Damon had let it slide, casually remarking, "Don't let it happen again," before leaving.
Though the students had no public lecture that day, Damon did. He had to attend a critical session involving the evaluation for next year's staff positions. He couldn't afford to miss or be late.
Ding-ding!
Damon's phone buzzed constantly as he walked. He checked the messages. Two were from Caroline, urging him to hurry up and get to class. The other two were from his assistant, Will.
Will reminded Damon not to forget about the luncheon in the afternoon. It was hosted by the senior leaders of Windy City University as part of the upcoming Vampire Hunter Exchange Conference. Several vampire hunters would be presenting their experiences on vampire hunting, offering live demonstrations and discussions for other hunters to learn from.
Additionally, Will mentioned that Damon had been given a special task by the university's higher-ups. He was one of the official representatives for Windy City University and would be participating in the speeches and discussions. Will's message made it clear that Damon couldn't afford to mess this up—there would be serious consequences if he did.
......
Mason parked the car in the underground parking lot of the Grand Shan Hotel half an hour later, his eyes flicking over to Elena, still asleep in the passenger seat. He decided to let her rest until it was time to join the luncheon. The grand academic vampire hunter exchange was being held at Windy City's most luxurious five-star hotel, and Mason could already sense the event would be enormous.
Elena, however, was starting to stir. The weight of her body had been heavy with exhaustion ever since Damon had brought her home, and no amount of sleep or blood seemed to alleviate it. She rubbed her eyes, trying to shake off the fatigue as the car came to a stop.
The moment Elena stepped out of the car, she felt the eyes of the high-end hotel staff and other guests on her. Her black dress, which clung to her figure like a second skin, drew attention for all the right reasons—an elegant yet subtly seductive aura wrapped in sophistication. The dress's upper half, a strapless corset, presented an air of grace, while the lower half was slit just high enough to give a teasing glimpse of her legs when she moved.
Mason, ever the confidant, strolled beside her, his gaze sweeping the room before him. He seemed at ease, his tall form leaning casually against the bar, glass of champagne in hand. The event's attendees, dressed in formal, business-like attire, had no idea that one of the most dangerous vampires in the room was standing right among them. Yet, Elena couldn't help but feel a little irritated.
"Mr. Green," she began, her voice tinged with annoyance, "Did you really have to make me dress up so elaborately? You're just going to let me blind all these old men with my sparkle, aren't you?"
Mason, lifting his glass to his lips with an easy smile, responded, "Old men? I told you, I have no idea how big this event is. If you're mad at anyone, blame me for wanting you to look good. After all, I'm paying for all this, aren't I?"
Elena's eyes narrowed at the subtle jab. Paying? Of course, Mason was a man who loved his money, but Elena wasn't here for his wealth. Not that she'd ever let him know how little she cared for it. She didn't bother to continue the argument, choosing instead to glance around the room. The crowd, filled with veteran hunters and their colleagues, seemed more like a herd of middle-aged men than the fresh, enthusiastic crowd she secretly longed for.
For Elena, the blood of seasoned, aging men didn't hold the same appeal. They're not fresh enough, she thought bitterly, her mind drifting to thoughts of more desirable prey.
She took a glass of red wine from a nearby table, swirling it in her hand as she observed the room. A few hunters, mostly men, eyed her in obvious appreciation. But to her, they were just old and overdone. She longed for something more... invigorating.
Mason raised his glass, as if inviting her attention, and spoke with a playful yet confident tone, "Actually, I enjoy the spotlight on my companion. You see, if you stand out, it shows that I've taken good care of you. It means I'm a good... provider, in a sense."
Elena shot him a sharp look, her lips curling into a slight sneer. "You mean to say I'm a pet?" Her tone was dripping with sarcasm.
Mason didn't flinch. Instead, he laughed, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "No, no. You're the one who made that connection, not me. I simply said you're smart enough to understand my deeper thoughts."
"You want a fight, Mason?" Elena's voice dropped a notch, the words heavy with challenge as she stared him down, a flicker of fang threatening to appear.
Mason chuckled, unfazed, though he couldn't help but admire her fierce demeanor. He took a step back, putting his glass down on the nearby table, his hands raised in mock surrender. "Whoa, whoa! I don't want any trouble. A gentleman never hits a lady."
Elena leaned in closer, her voice a low whisper that only he could hear, "I'm not a lady. You know exactly what I am."
"Ha!" Mason laughed, clearly entertained, his gaze flicking over to her as he slowly rolled up his sleeve, revealing just enough of his arm to make the invitation clear. "Well, if you're not a lady, why don't you take a bite, Elena? Come on, I'm sure you've been craving a little snack."
For a brief moment, the tension between them crackled, an unspoken challenge hanging in the air. Elena, with her heightened senses and insatiable thirst, was tempted, but she held herself back, her gaze not leaving his arm.
"Don't push it," she warned, her eyes glowing briefly with a dangerous gleam. But beneath that, there was a curiosity—a test of how far Mason would go to provoke her. Would he really be foolish enough to taunt a vampire so openly?
Mason, still smirking, lowered his sleeve and shrugged. "Oh, come on. You're a vampire. I'm sure I'm not the first person you've tempted, and certainly won't be the last. Just consider it a game. We all have our... appetites."
Elena didn't respond immediately, her thoughts racing. This Mason, this vampire hunter, was certainly more interesting than she had originally given him credit for. He wasn't like the others, who tried to trap or control her with empty words. No, he seemed to be testing boundaries, as if he wanted to see just how far their strange connection would go.
But Elena wasn't one to be easily provoked. She had her own games to play.
"Keep your arm to yourself, Mason. I don't feel like feeding just yet," she said, with a finality in her voice that brooked no argument.
"Fair enough," Mason replied, raising his glass once again. "But you know, the night is still young, and we're only getting started."
As the night wore on, Elena's mind began to wander again, her eyes sweeping over the crowded hall. She was still on the lookout for something... or someone that might catch her attention. But her curiosity about Mason and his strange, almost playful behavior kept creeping into her thoughts. What was his real game? Could it be that, despite all his bravado, he wasn't entirely in control? Was he testing her? Or was she simply another distraction in his life, another interesting puzzle to solve?
For now, the answers were unclear. But Elena was far from satisfied with this encounter. The night was still long.