15. Chapter 15

15

Chapter 15

Darick

M y surroundings blur as I stare up at the ceiling. I've been lying like this for half an hour, trying to figure out what feels different.

I blink, my eyes adjusting to the darkness of my underground bedroom. Something feels…different. My body tingles with an unfamiliar energy.

Closing my eyes, I'm assaulted by a vivid flashback. Soft skin against my lips, the intoxicating scent of witch's blood flooding my senses. The memory is so clear, I can almost taste her again.

I sit up abruptly, stretching muscles stiffened by hours of sleep. That dream…it felt too real. And now this strange sensation coursing through me. I flex my fingers. There's a strange humming beneath my skin.

But most significantly, the hunger is gone.

Bullshit. That can't be right.

I swing my legs over the edge of the bed, my bare feet sinking into dense carpeting. The strange tingling sensation persists as I stand, feeling oddly energized despite hours of inactivity.

Crossing to the dressing room, I select a crisp black shirt and dark trousers. As I dress, my eyes adjust further to the darkness. A flick of a switch has the automated blinds gliding open, and heavy drapes slide aside, allowing moonlight to filter in.

I pause at the full-length mirror, studying my reflection. My skin seems to have a subtle glow, my eyes brighter than usual. But it's the absence of something that truly unsettles me. And that something is the ever-present gnawing hunger that's plagued me for months…it's gone.

Wishful thinking, Drake. It can't be gone.

Shaking my head, I stride to the door. This isn't going to last. It's a cruel trick of my mind, nothing more.

The air is cool as I step out into the hallway, my footsteps echoing on polished marble as I make my way toward the main level of the mansion. A figure emerges from the shadows – Sebastian, my manservant.

"Good evening, my Lord," he says with a slight bow. "You're up earlier than usual."

I nod curtly. "Call Marcus. Tell him I need to see him immediately."

Sebastian's eyebrows raise slightly, but he knows better than to question. "Of course, sir. Anything else?"

"No," I reply, already moving past him. "That will be all."

I need air. Space to think. To test this impossible lack of thirst.

The gardens sprawl before me as I step outside, a meticulously manicured oasis bathed in light. Fragrant roses mingle with night-blooming jasmine, their scents usually overwhelmed by the constant call of blood. Tonight, I can appreciate their subtle perfume.

I close my eyes, focusing inward. The strange energy sings through my body, foreign yet exhilarating. On impulse, I crouch slightly before launching myself upward.

The cool night air rushes past as I soar, effortlessly clearing the towering oak at the garden's edge. I land lightly on its highest branch, barely disturbing the leaves. My enhanced strength and agility seem unaffected, perhaps even heightened.

Interesting.

I leap again, this time pushing myself further. The mansion shrinks beneath me as I sail over its roof, twisting in midair before landing in a perfect crouch on the opposite side of the property. No strain, no fatigue. If anything, I feel more powerful than I have in decades.

A flicker of movement catches my eye. A rabbit, frozen in alarm at my sudden appearance. Normally, the sight of a prey animal would ignite an immediate thirst. Now…nothing. I can appreciate its rapid heartbeat, the warmth of its small body, but there's no compulsion to feed.

I approach slowly, curious, fixing it with a steady stare that has it transfixed. The rabbit remains motionless as I kneel beside it. Gently, I scoop the creature into my hands. Its heart races against my palm, yet I feel no urge to kill. After a moment, I set it down, watching as it bounds away into the underbrush.

What is happening to me?

Maybe I've been wrong about it…maybe I never had the Bloodbane after all. Perhaps it was just some sort of illness.

Right. Like a twenty-four-hour bug for vampires.

The thought makes me snort.

The sound of tires on gravel pulls me from my reverie. Marcus has arrived in one of the dark SUVs he favors as a mode of transportation. I make my way back to the front of the mansion, arriving just as he steps out of his sleek black car.

"This had better be important," he grumbles, straightening his jacket. "I was in the middle of a rather delicate negotiation." Somehow, I suspect that his "negotiation" involved a couple of blood groupies. Marcus doesn't share my boredom with the women who constantly throw themselves at us. Maybe he will in a few hundred years.

I meet his gaze steadily. "It is."

Marcus frowns, studying me intently. "You look…strange. What's going on?"

I hesitate, unsure how to articulate the impossible. "Something's changed. The hunger, it's—" I stop. What if this is wishful thinking? I can't simply assume that this latest development will be permanent.

"Darick?" he presses. "You gonna speak to me?"

I take a deep breath. "The hunger is gone. Completely."

Marcus's eyes widen in disbelief. "That's impossible. The Bloodbane—"

"I know," I cut him off. "But it's true. I woke up feeling…different. Stronger, even. And the constant thirst? It's just…vanished."

He shakes his head, clearly struggling to process this information. "How? When did this start?"

I pause again, unsure how much to reveal. "It started recently, but the signs were there before – I mean, there were hints before these last few days." I have to admit that there have been signs – reading someone's mind is certainly something new.

Marcus narrows his eyes. "Recently? How recently?"

I grimace. There's no avoiding it. "After I met a witch," I tell him. "There's some kind of link between us. I don't get it, but I can't ignore that things have been different since then."

Marcus's expression darkens. "A witch? Darick, what the hell were you thinking?"

"I wasn't," I snap, frustrated. "It just happened. But that's not important right now. What matters is that something's changed. The Bloodbane symptoms are gone."

He runs a hand through his hair, agitated. "This doesn't make any sense. The Bloodbane isn't something you just get over. It's a curse, Darick. A death sentence for our kind."

I straighten, my resolve firming. "I know that. But I'm telling you, it's not the same as before. I need to understand why." I take a breath. "How likely is it to beat this thing without help?"

Marcus is silent for a long moment, his expression troubled. Finally, he speaks. "You know the answer to that, Darick. The only way is to find a blood match. A witch who is magically compatible with your blood. Maybe she's it."

I scowl, not liking this explanation. "I haven't drunk from her. She's not a match. It can't be that simple."

Marcus nods, his skepticism clear. "It's not that then. A blood match without drinking blood… It's never happened before. It can't be possible. Even finding a match in the first place is like looking for a needle in a haystack."

I pace, the unease gnawing at me. "Then why – why has the thirst vanished? It's absurd."

Marcus studies me intently, his eyes narrowing. "You said there was a connection between you and this witch. What exactly happened when you met her?"

I turn away, unable to meet his gaze. He doesn't need to know about the kiss. "We talked, that's all. We tried to figure out what this is but couldn't. That's it."

"Cut the crap," Marcus growls. "I've known you for centuries, Darick. You're hiding something."

The accusation stings, but I can't deny its truth. "There was…a dream. It felt real. Too real."

"A dream? What kind of dream?" He's curious.

I hesitate, uncomfortable with the direction this conversation is taking. There's no way I'm telling the man about my sexual fantasies. "It doesn't matter. It was just a dream."

"Clearly, it does matter," Marcus insists. "If there's even a chance that this witch is your match, we need to know. The implications could be enormous. This could be the answer."

He's right, of course. If she really is my…match…it changes everything. The thought both thrills and terrifies me.

But you haven't drunk from her, dammit!

Besides, do I really want to be tied to a witch forever?

If you want to survive, you will.

"I don't know what to believe," I admit, frustration coloring my voice. "This connection, the dream, the Bloodbane symptoms disappearing… How the fuck am I supposed to make sense of it?"

Marcus places a hand on my shoulder, his expression softening slightly. "I don't know, my friend. But we need to figure it out. Fast. If word of this gets out, if Lucien finds out…"

He doesn't need to finish the thought. We both know the danger Lucien poses. If he learns of my potential weakness – or strength – there could be grave consequences. Worse, it could put the woman at risk, even though she doesn't seem to be the direct solution.

"We need more information," I say. "About the Bloodbane, about these…matches. How they work. Anything that can help us understand what's happening."

Marcus nods grimly. "I'll reach out to some contacts, see what I can dig up. In the meantime, you need to be careful. We can't risk anyone finding out about this, not until we know more."

I pause as I realize that Sebastian is hovering nearby. I nod to him, acknowledging his presence. "What is it?"

"My Lord, there's been an urgent message from the Council," Sebastian says, his usually impassive face betraying a hint of concern. "They're demanding your immediate presence at Council Chambers."

Shit.

The Council rarely calls for urgent meetings, and when they do, it's never good news. I exchange a look with Marcus, seeing my own unease mirrored in his eyes.

"This wasn't on the agenda, Sebastian. Did they give any indication as to why?" I ask, keeping my voice steady.

Sebastian shakes his head. "No, my Lord. Only that your presence is required without delay."

I nod, dismissing him with a wave.

"This can't be a coincidence," Marcus mutters, voicing my own thoughts. "Do you think they know? About the Bloodbane, or…the witch?"

I clench my jaw, considering the possibilities. There may be suspicions about my health, but nothing concrete. And there's no way anyone could know about her. The first time I've ever acknowledged it aloud has been now, to Marcus. "I don't see how they could. I've been careful."

"Careful enough?" Marcus presses. "You said yourself, this connection with the witch is something you don't understand. Who knows what kind of ripples it might have caused?"

He's right, of course. The truth is, I have no idea what consequences my encounter might have set in motion.

"It could be about Lucien," I say, grasping for alternatives. "Maybe they've uncovered evidence of his attack." It would be a relief if they have. I still haven't found anything to present to the Grand Elder.

Marcus nods, but I can see he's not convinced. Neither am I, if I'm being honest with myself.

"Whatever it is, we need to be prepared," he says. "If they start asking questions—"

"We stick to the truth," I interrupt. "As much of it as we can safely share, anyway. Anything else is too risky."

Marcus raises an eyebrow. "And what exactly is the ‘safe' truth in this situation, Darick?"

I huff out a breath, frustration building. "I don't know. But we can't lie to the Council. They'll see right through it."

"Agreed," Marcus says with a sigh. "But we also can't reveal everything. Not until we understand what's happening ourselves."

I nod, feeling the gravity of it all. "I'll have to walk a fine line. Give them enough to satisfy their curiosity without revealing too much."

"Be careful, Darick," Marcus warns. "The Council isn't known for its patience or understanding. If this is an ad hoc meeting, Arabella probably won't be there to mediate. It'll make them more power-hungry. If they suspect you're hiding something…"

He doesn't need to finish the thought.

"I know," I say grimly. "But what choice do I have?"

Marcus is silent for a moment, his expression troubled. "There might be another option," he says slowly. "Perhaps you could raise the matter of the Bloodbane and then tell them about the symptoms disappearing. Frame it as a positive development, a potential breakthrough in understanding the condition."

I consider his suggestion. It's risky, but it might buy me some time and goodwill with the Council. "And if they ask how it happened?"

"Tell them the truth – that you don't know," Marcus replies. "It's not a lie, and it gives you room to maneuver while we figure things out."

I nod slowly, seeing the merit in his plan. "It could work. But we'll need to be careful. If they start digging too deeply…"

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it," Marcus says firmly. "Whatever happens in that meeting, I've got your back."

His loyalty warms me, a refreshing change from the constant dread that's been building in my gut these past months. "You're a good man, Marcus Nightshade. A good friend," I say softly.

"Always," he replies. "Now, you'd better get ready. Those assholes don't appreciate being kept waiting."

I nod, turning towards the mansion. As I walk, I'm acutely aware of the strange energy still simmering beneath my skin. Will the Council notice the change in me?

And if they do, what will it mean?