Chapter Five

Bethany

I wanted to be furious with him. Every rational part of me screamed that I should be storming out of Sugar Rush, slamming the door behind me, and swearing to never speak to Drake again. After all, the man had turned me into a vampire—he'd taken my shot at a second life and turned it into something I could never have imagined. I'd died once, been sent back to Earth to give life another go, and now here I was, neither alive nor dead, courtesy of one very tempting vampire.

But there was the problem…He was tempting. No matter how hard I tried to muster up the anger, every time I looked at Drake, it melted into something else. Something far more dangerous. Something I wasn't sure I could afford to indulge in right now, but it was there all the same.

I sighed, pushing the thought away for the hundredth time that day as I stood in the middle of the shop. Everyone was bustling around, getting things ready for Halloween and the blood drive. The place looked nothing like the rundown candy shop I had first walked into. It was alive with energy and excitement. Even the air smelled better, filled with the sugary sweetness of freshly made treats and a hint of something spicy, like cinnamon.

The tagline for the event, Give blood, get a treat and tour the new shop! , was catching on quickly. Alice had outdone herself with the flyers, which she was currently distributing around town with a couple of her kids. The whole community was buzzing about it, and I couldn't help but feel a swell of pride as I looked around at what we had accomplished.

And then, there was Drake, right in the middle of it all.

For a man who had probably spent the last century sitting in a sleek office in New York, sipping expensive blood (or whatever vampires of his status drank), seeing him roll up his designer, custom-tailored sleeves and help us paint walls and assemble candy displays was...unexpected, to say the least. I had half-expected him to stand around barking orders, but no, he was right there with the rest of us, doing whatever needed to be done. It was hard to reconcile the sharp-dressed, brooding vampire with the guy who was currently covered in paint and hauling boxes of supplies like he belonged in a hardware store ad.

The thing was…I found it impressive. Drake wasn't just the kind of person to sit back and watch things fall apart—he was the kind of person who got his hands dirty to make sure things worked. And the more I watched him work, the more I realized that maybe—just maybe—there was more to him than the arrogant, sarcastic vampire I'd spent the past few days bickering with. He had layers. As well as muscles and a way too-sexy smile. All of which intrigued me.

But then again, I reminded myself, this was the guy who had turned me into a vampire. I couldn't forget that. No matter how attractive he was, no matter how much I appreciated his work ethic, he had still crossed a line.

"Hey, Bethany, can you pass me those window decals?" Alice's voice snapped me back to reality, and I turned to see her standing by the front display, holding up a tangle of fake cobwebs.

"Yeah, sure," I said, grabbing the box of Halloween-themed window clings and handing them over.

As Alice started adhering the spooky decals on the glass, I glanced around at the rest of the crew. Noah was practically buzzing with excitement as he meticulously arranged the candy displays, his hands moving with an artist's precision as he placed each piece just so. He was in his element, and it was impossible not to get caught up in his enthusiasm. His partner, Gary, stood nearby, hanging strings of tiny orange lights along the shelves, his bald head gleaming beneath the fluorescent lights.

"Bethany, come check this out!" Noah called, waving me over. "I've got a new display for the candy corn popcorn balls, and it's going to blow your mind."

I made my way over to the candy counter, where Noah had set up an elaborate pyramid of the scrumptious treats, each one wrapped in cellophane and tied with curling ribbon. They looked almost too perfect to eat.

"Noah, these look amazing," I said, admiring his handiwork.

"I know, right?" Noah beamed. "But I could honestly do so much more. I'm dying to let loose, and I was wondering if..." He glanced nervously toward Drake, who was busy adjusting a display of pumpkins near the door. "Do you think he'll let me experiment a little?"

I raised an eyebrow. "You mean you want to go rogue with the candy?"

Noah nodded, his eyes wide with excitement. "I've got some killer ideas. You've seen my Insta page. But, you know, corporate is all about sticking to the script. I need Drake to sign off on anything new."

I glanced over at our boss, who was currently inspecting a bag of plastic bats with far more seriousness than the task warranted. "Why don't you ask him?" I suggested, nudging Noah toward Drake.

Noah hesitated for a moment, then squared his shoulders and marched over to where Drake was standing. I followed at a distance, curious to see how this would play out.

"Hey, boss," Noah said, clearing his throat.

Drake looked up from the bats, raising an eyebrow. "Yes?"

"So, I was thinking...we've got this big blood drive coming up, and it's a perfect opportunity to show off some new candy designs. I've been working on a few things, and I was hoping you'd let me, you know, unleash my creative genius. Wait until you taste my monster bark and candied orange peel! I promise you won't be disappointed."

Drake's expression was unreadable as he listened to Noah's pitch. For a moment, I thought he might shoot it down, but then he surprised me by nodding slowly.

"All right, you convinced me. Go wild," Drake said, his tone even. "If your recipes are a success, I'll talk to corporate about adding them to the official lineup."

Noah's face lit up like a kid on Christmas morning. "You mean it?"

Drake nodded. "You've got talent, Noah. I'd be an idiot not to let you show it off."

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" Noah practically danced back to his workstation, his excitement palpable.

Gary, who had been watching the exchange from the sidelines, gave Drake an approving nod. "You won't regret it, sir. Noah's desserts are not only delicious, but he is truly a genius when it comes to sugar work. He has a find hand, just wait until you see what he can do."

I couldn't help but smile as I watched Noah wipe a happy tear from the corner of his eye. It was nice to see everyone so excited, and I had to admit, I was impressed that Drake had relented. Maybe he wasn't as rigid and by-the-book as I'd thought.

"Feeling generous today?" I asked as I wandered over to where he stood, leaning casually against the counter.

He shot me a sideways glance, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips. "Maybe I just like to keep people on their toes."

"Uh-huh," I said, crossing my arms and giving him a knowing look. "Admit it—you've got a soft spot for the underdog."

Drake shrugged, but the smirk remained. "I like to win. And sometimes, that means trusting the right people."

I rolled my eyes, but I couldn't help the smile that tugged at my lips. "You know, I never would have guessed you'd be the type to get your hands dirty."

He chuckled, shaking his head. "Trust me, this is not my usual scene."

"No kidding," I said, eyeing the paint splatters on his shirt and the dirt under his fingernails. "You look like you're about to audition for a DIY reality show."

He glanced down at himself, then back at me with a mock-serious expression. "Is that a compliment?"

"Take it however you want," I replied with sass.

He stepped closer, his gaze locking onto mine with that intensity that always made my heart skip a beat. "You know," he said quietly so that only I could hear, "for someone who's new to this whole vampire thing, you're doing pretty well."

I swallowed, trying to ignore the heat that flared between us every time he got too close. "Yeah, well, I've always been a quick learner."

"Good," he said softly, his voice dropping even lower to that teasing tone that sent shivers down my spine. "Because we've got a lot of work to do, and I'm not about to let you slack off."

Before I could respond, Noah called out from across the room, waving a tray of chocolates in the air. "Bethany! Drake! Come try these!"

Grateful for the distraction, I turned and made my way over to the candy counter, where Noah had arranged an assortment of chocolates shaped like miniature pumpkins, ghosts, and bats. They were intricately detailed, each one a tiny masterpiece.

"Wow, Noah," I said, genuinely impressed. "These are incredible."

Noah grinned, clearly pleased with himself. "I told you I had some ideas. I just couldn't help myself."

Drake picked up one of the chocolates, inspecting it closely before popping it into his mouth. He chewed thoughtfully, then nodded. "These are good. Really good."

As Noah basked in the glow of Drake's approval, I glanced over at the clock on the wall. It was getting late, and we still had a few more things to finish before the shop was ready for the blood drive. But despite the long hours, I couldn't shake the feeling that this was exactly where I was supposed to be.

Later that night as the group's energy waned and we prepared to stop work for the day, Drake and I made plans to meet at my place. We still hadn't cracked the puzzle of reversing the vampire curse, and with Halloween fast approaching, I was starting to feel the pressure. But if I was going to spend eternity as one of the undead, I figured I'd at least exhaust all my options first.

"I don't cook," I told him honestly, leaning against the counter as we cleaned up the shop for the night. "But I'll supply the spells and ingredients if you bring dinner."

Drake raised an eyebrow, a slow smile spreading across his face. "You drive a hard bargain, Snow."

I couldn't help but return his grin. "Consider it a fair exchange."

"Deal," he said, his eyes lingering on mine for just a moment longer than necessary before turning to leave. "See you at eight."

By the time eight o'clock rolled around, I was a bundle of nerves. I wasn't exactly sure why—this wasn't a date, after all. But it felt like more than just a casual dinner. Maybe it was the fact that we'd already crossed some serious boundaries, or maybe it was because there was this undeniable pull between us that I couldn't shake. Either way, I was more flustered than I wanted to admit.

When Drake arrived, I wasn't entirely prepared for the sight of him standing in my doorway, holding a large paper bag filled with what smelled like heaven. His sleeves were rolled up, his dark hair slightly mussed, and there was something almost casual about him that I hadn't seen before. It was...disarming.

"Dinner is served," he said, flashing that annoyingly sexy smile as he stepped inside.

I eyed the bag suspiciously as I shut the door behind him. "What did you bring? And please don't tell me it's blood. I'm not sure I could live with myself, even though I'm undead."

He chuckled, setting the bag down on my kitchen counter and pulling out a couple of plates. "No blood tonight. I figured we'd stick to something a little more...traditional." He pulled out several covered platters and a bottle of red wine. "I hope crab-stuffed, bacon-wrapped filet mignon with whiskey peppercorn sauce, roasted red potatoes, and grilled asparagus sounds good to you."

I stared at him open-mouthed as I watched him unpack the meal. I wasn't expecting this. I had figured he'd bring some takeout or, at best, something reheated from a restaurant. But this? A gourmet dinner? That was not what I had imagined.

"You...cooked all this?" I asked, trying to hide my surprise.

Drake glanced up from where he was arranging the food on the plates. "What…You think vampires don't cook?"

"I just didn't peg you for the ‘chef' type," I admitted, sliding into a chair at the small dining table.

"I find it relaxing," he said simply, pouring us each a glass of wine. "It's one of the few things in life where I can control the outcome."

I raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Control freak, huh?"

He flashed me a grin as he sat down across from me. "You could say that."

We ate in companionable silence for a few minutes, the sound of clinking silverware and soft music playing in the background. The food was incredible—tender, flavorful, and cooked to perfection. I had to admit, I was impressed.

"This is really good," I said, taking another bite. "I wasn't expecting you to be so amazing in the kitchen."

Drake leaned back in his chair, swirling his wine in the glass. "I've had a lot of time to perfect my skills—and in more places than the kitchen, I might add."

I took a gulp of wine in response as I felt heat rising in my cheeks.

He chuckled, and I spied that familiar gleam in his eye. He was usually so guarded, only offering pieces of himself when he wanted to. It was part of what made him so infuriating—and so intriguing.

"So," I said after a few more bites, "are you ready for this?"

"Ready for what?" Drake asked, raising an eyebrow.

"For the spellcasting," I replied, trying to keep the smile out of my voice. "I've got everything we need. I even made a trip to a metaphysical shop in the next town over. And let me tell you, it was an experience."

Drake chuckled, setting down his wine glass. "Now you've got me curious. What exactly did you pick up?"

I grinned, pushing away from the table and heading over to the living room, where I had a stack of library books and a large bag of supplies. "Oh, just the essentials," I said, pulling out a bundle of smudge sticks, a few crystals, and—drumroll—a plastic wand that I was pretty sure had been part of a child's costume at some point.

Drake raised an eyebrow as I laid out the assortment of items on the coffee table. "I'm not sure if I should be concerned or impressed."

"Go with impressed," I said, plopping down on the couch and flipping open one of the books. "I checked out everything I could find on reversing spells, breaking curses, and undoing dark magic. I'm not saying any of it will work, but it's better than nothing."

Drake sat down beside me, glancing at the pile of books with a bemused expression. "You really went all out, didn't you?"

"Well, I figure if we're going to be cursed for all eternity, we might as well give it our best shot," I said, handing him one of the books.

We spent the next hour flipping through the books, lighting smudge sticks (one of which nearly set my hair on fire), waving the plastic wand around like a couple of kids, and mixing up some concoction with hair of toad and other questionable ingredients. I wasn't holding out much hope for any of it, but I would have given us an A for effort.

At one point, Drake leaned over the coffee table, squinting at the bubbling mixture in a small cauldron I'd found at the metaphysical store. "Are you sure this is supposed to smell like... burnt socks?"

I laughed, shaking my head. "No idea. The book said to add hair of toad, but I'm pretty sure that's just some weird grass they sold me."

Drake wrinkled his nose, poking at the mixture with a spoon. "Remind me to never let you cook."

"Hey!" I protested, swatting at his arm. "I told you, cooking is not my forte. But I definitely appreciate a good meal."

He chuckled, leaning back on the couch and stretching his arm across the backrest. "Fair enough."

Despite our best efforts, nothing worked. The spells were a complete bust. No matter how many crystals we waved around or how many questionable herbs we mixed into potions, nothing seemed to do a thing to undo the curse. By the time we finally gave up, the apartment was filled with the smoky scent of smudge sticks, and the coffee table was littered with half-burnt candles, open books, and remnants of soggy herbs.

"Well," I said with a sigh, flopping back onto the couch beside Drake. "That was a waste."

He leaned back, his eyes watching me closely, the playful expression fading into something more serious. "We'll figure it out."

I glanced at him, raising an eyebrow. "You sound confident."

He shrugged, his gaze still locked on mine. "Because I know you. And I know you're not the type to give up."

There was something in the way he said it—something that made my heart skip a beat. I swallowed, suddenly very aware of the closeness between us, the heat from his body radiating against mine. The air felt heavy, thick with unspoken tension, and I realized just how close we were sitting.

Before I could stop myself, I looked up at him, and our eyes locked. His gaze was intense, searching, and I felt that familiar pull between us, the same magnetic energy I'd felt the night we'd first met. My breath caught in my throat, and I found myself leaning just a little closer.

Drake's hand moved, his fingers brushing lightly against mine on the couch cushion. The touch was electric, sending a spark of heat straight through me. And then, before I could think twice, we were kissing.

It started slow, tentative, as if we were both testing the waters, but it quickly escalated. His hands moved to my waist, pulling me closer, and I melted into him, my fingers tangling in his hair. The world around us seemed to disappear, the failed spells, the books, the candles—all of it fading into the background as I lost myself in the sensation of his lips on mine.

It wasn't just a kiss—it was everything. The pent-up tension, the unspoken attraction, the complicated emotions we'd both been dancing around for days. It all came crashing together in that moment, and for a while, I forgot about everything else. I forgot that I was technically undead, forgot about the curse, forgot about trying to get into heaven again.

It was just me and Drake, together on my couch, the heat between us burning brighter with every touch.

His hands slid up my back, his fingers leaving a trail of fire in their wake, and I found myself pressing closer, needing more, craving more. My heart raced, and for the first time since all of this started, I felt alive. Really alive.

We broke apart, both of us breathing heavily, our foreheads resting against each other as we tried to catch our breath.

"Bethany," Drake whispered, his voice rough and low, sending a shiver down my spine. His forehead was pressed against mine, our breath mingling in the small space between us. I could still feel the imprint of his hands on my body, the warmth of his touch lingering like a brand on my skin.

I didn't answer right away, still trying to steady my own breathing, my heart pounding in my chest like it was trying to remind me that, technically, I shouldn't even have a heartbeat anymore. I shouldn't be feeling this way—this alive—and yet, here I was, wrapped up in Drake's arms.

"What are we doing?" I finally whispered, my voice barely audible as I pulled back slightly, just enough to look him in the eyes.

Drake didn't answer immediately. His dark eyes searched mine, and there was a flicker of something there—something vulnerable, something raw—that made my stomach twist in knots. "I don't know," he admitted quietly, his voice uncharacteristically soft. "But I know I don't want to stop."

His confession hung between us, heavy and real, and for a moment, I didn't know what to say. I should want to stop. I should want to push him away and remind him—remind myself—of everything that was wrong with this situation. I was supposed to be angry at him for turning me into a vampire, for throwing my life into even more chaos than it was already in, for making everything so... complicated. But how could I be angry when every time he touched me, it felt like fire coursing through my veins? How could I be angry when, in his arms, I felt more connected to this world than I had in ages?

"I don't know if I can do this," I whispered, my fingers still laced around his neck, even though every logical part of me screamed at me to let go.

He leaned in closer, his lips brushing my temple in a soft, barely-there kiss. "Do what?"

"Be...whatever this is," I said, my voice trembling slightly. "With you. I mean, you turned me into this...this vampire. I'm supposed to hate you for that."

Drake pulled back just enough to look me in the eyes again, his expression serious but not cold. There was something almost... tender about the way he looked at me. "I never wanted to hurt you, Bethany. You have to believe that."

I swallowed hard, my throat tight. "Then why did you?"

He hesitated, the words lingering on his lips before he finally spoke. "Because I was weak. You...you're not like anyone I've ever met. And that night, I lost control. I don't know what it is about you, but I couldn't stop myself."

His admission hit me like a punch to the gut. Part of me wanted to be flattered—he had lost control because of me, because there was something about me that he couldn't resist. But another part of me felt conflicted, knowing that his moment of weakness had changed my life forever. Except, hadn't I done the same thing myself? How could I blame him when the truth was staring me right in the face?

For a moment, we just sat there in silence, the tension between us thick and palpable. The room was dimly lit and the candles had burned down to little more than stubs, casting a warm, flickering glow that softened the edges of everything around us, making the night feel almost surreal. Tears began to fill my eyes before I could stop them.

"You don't have to forgive me," Drake said, gently cupping my cheek with his hand and meeting my gazes with his own. "But I'll do whatever it takes to make this right."

There was an earnestness in his voice that caught me off guard, and for the first time, I believed him. I believed that he truly regretted what had happened, that he wasn't just saying the words to placate me.

I shifted slightly on the couch, pulling away from him just enough to create a little distance. "What if we can't fix it?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. "What if this is it? What if we're stuck like this forever?"

Drake didn't answer right away, his eyes searching mine. "Then I'll help you live with it," he said simply. "I'll help you figure out how to make the best of it. I owe you that much."

I looked at him, studying his face—the sharp lines of his jaw, the intensity in his dark eyes, the way his lips pressed into a thin line as he spoke. He was dangerous, yes. Complicated. But there was also something else. Something that made me trust him, even when I didn't want to.

"Okay," I whispered, the word slipping out before I could second-guess it.

Drake nodded, and the tension between us shifted, softening into something different—something that felt less like desperation and more like understanding. I wasn't alone in this, and neither was he.

Without another word, he leaned in again, his lips brushing mine in a slow, lingering kiss. It was different this time—less urgent, more careful. Like we were both acknowledging the weight of everything that had happened between us, but choosing to let it go, just for a moment.

I sighed into the kiss, my body relaxing against his as his arms wrapped around me, pulling me closer. The heat between us flared again, and I lost myself in the sensation of his hands on my skin, the way his touch made me forget about everything else.

It didn't matter that we hadn't broken the curse. It didn't matter that we were stuck in this strange, new reality where blood cravings and immortality were the new normal. Right now, all that mattered was this—this moment, this connection, this fire that seemed to burn brighter with every passing second.

We stayed like that for what felt like hours, lost in each other, the world outside my apartment fading into nothingness.

"Maybe we don't have all the answers yet," Drake said softly, his fingers gently tracing patterns on my back. "But we'll get there. Together."

I smiled, closing my eyes as I let his words wash over me. Together. It wasn't a promise I had expected to hear, but somehow, it felt like the one I needed.

"Together," I echoed, my voice barely above a whisper.

Maybe this new life wasn't the end of everything I'd hoped for. Maybe it was just the beginning of something new. Something I hadn't planned for, but something that could still be mine. Whatever happened next, at least I wouldn't be facing it alone.