The Traitor's Bite

After I fell in love with the vampire Damien, I endured the agony of his turning me.

It was because he said he couldn't bear the thought of us being parted by my old age and death.

Later, another woman would ask him, her face a mask of innocence as she lay in his arms, Why won't you turn me?

Damien, his voice thick with a pain I recognized, would kiss her cheek and say, "Because I could never stand to see you hurt."

So that was it. To truly love someone meant you couldn't bear to cause them pain.

My heart finally broke for good. I didn't belong in this world anyway.

It was time to go home.

1

When I got back to the old manor, I was clutching a bag of blood plasma.

It was the last of the food I’d sourced for Damien.

As a newly turned vampire, I still couldn't control my cravings for human blood. My monthly supply runs were a grim exercise in back-alley deals and shadowed exchanges.

This last bag had cost me a silver bullet from a hunter’s rifle, a wound I’d been lucky to escape from. I’d been gone a month, and Damien hadn’t contacted me once. A cold knot of fear tightened in my gut—what if something had happened to him?

But as I stepped into the courtyard, the sweet, metallic scent of fresh human blood hit me, chasing my worries away with a fresh wave of dread.

Familiar voices drifted from inside, growing clearer.

A woman's sugary laugh. "I want to be a vampire, too."

Damien’s low chuckle followed. "You're perfect as you are. Why would you want this cursed existence?"

The woman, nestled in his arms, asked with a guileless tilt of her head, "Is my blood really that sweet?"

His reply was a portrait of tortured restraint, the voice of a man adoring something too fragile to touch.

"Intoxicating."

The moment she turned her head, the cold in my chest froze solid.

It was Lily. The girl I had come to call my sister.

Seeing me, Lily sprang from Damien’s lap, grabbing my arm with a disarming warmth. The wound on her wrist, beaded with blood, was held out to me like a peace offering.

"Sophie! You're finally back!"

The scent of her blood was overwhelming. I tried to pull away, to put some distance between us, but in a blur of motion, Damien had me pinned to the floor.

His eyes were filled with a profound disappointment. "You'd even drink from your own sister? Have you lost your mind?"

The pressure of his hold drove the silver bullet in my chest deeper, a searing path from muscle toward my vital organs. The pain stole my breath, but he mistook my silence for theatrics.

"You're a vampire," he scoffed. "A little scratch like that is nothing."

Had he already forgotten? I used to be human, too.

2

The truth is, I’m not from this world at all. I was sent here by the Agency on a mission: to investigate the existence of vampires.

Ten years ago, I met Damien—a vampire a thousand years old. Despite his terrifying nature, he had learned to control his thirst, subsisting on animal blood and living, for all intents and purposes, like a man. He gave me everything, showered me with affection, and told me I was the first person he had ever truly loved.

And I fell in love with him.

Our years together were bright and fleeting. Time left no mark on him, but it showed me no such mercy.

One night, after too much wine, he pressed his lips to my neck and made me a promise.

"Let me turn you. We can be together forever, Sophie. For eternity. What do you say?"

Drowning in a sea of love, I abandoned my mission. I refused the Agency's calls to return to my own time. All I wanted was to be with him, forever.

But no one told me how much it would hurt.

The constant ache of sunlight on my skin. The inability to taste food. The gnawing, primal addiction to blood that I had to fight every single second.

In the beginning, Damien was patient. He stayed by my side, guiding me.

"Easy, now," he would soothe. "In time, you'll get used to it."

But his patience wore thin. Soon, his words began to cut.

"I got through it. Why is it so hard for you?"

"You're not human anymore. Stop being so dramatic."

Then, I found a girl on the street—a homeless, dying orphan. I took her in, saved her life, and brought her to live with us in the manor, calling her my sister.

Lily.

Her arrival was the fracture that broke everything. She fell in love with Damien.

"Sophie," she’d pleaded with me, tears in her eyes. "Being with Damien is the only thing that makes me want to live. You're a vampire, you have forever. Just lend him to me for ten years. Only ten years, I promise."

The absurdity of it was laughable. But Damien agreed.

"Ten years is a blink of an eye for someone with an eternity, Sophie. But for Lily, it could be the very thing that saves her life. You brought her here. She's your responsibility."

The way he looked at her then, so protective and tender, was the same way he had looked at me a decade ago.

3

I couldn't be bothered with either of them. I don’t know how many days I lay there after being shot, but I awoke to the searing pain of sunlight on my skin.

The manor was empty, save for me. Sunlight poured through every window, bathing the rooms in a brilliant, merciless light. A house I once loved for its sun-drenched corners had become my personal hell.

I couldn't reach Damien. Left with no choice, I called Alex. I asked him to come help me get the bullet out.

Alex was the first friend I made when I arrived in this world, a former colleague from the Institute where we researched paranormal phenomena.

Ten minutes later, he was there, a first-aid kit in hand, dressed in a tactical jacket zipped all the way to his chin. Even he was wary of me now.

"God, this is deep," he murmured, examining the wound. "To get it out, I'll have to cut away some of the surrounding tissue."

I stared at the ceiling, a bitter laugh escaping my lips. "Vampires are supposed to be fearless, but we're terrified of a little piece of silver. Some immortality."

Alex glanced at me, his expression unreadable, and began sterilizing his instruments. I couldn't go to a hospital anymore; he was my only option.

"Brace yourself," he said softly. "If the pain is too much... bite my arm."

He’d forgotten. I was a vampire. I could never bite a human.

4

"Damien..."

I followed the sound of Lily's voice and saw them leap through the open window. Damien was holding her.

His face was a thundercloud. "You're hurt, and instead of waiting for me, you call him?"

Even as he accused me, his hand remained possessively on Lily's waist.

Alex didn't flinch. "What's more important, Damien? Your ego, or her life?"

The two of them had met a few times, and each encounter ended in hostility. Damien was the ultimate research subject for Alex, an ancient, powerful creature he could never hope to capture. They were natural enemies. Though Alex and I were only ever friends, I had drastically reduced our contact for Damien’s sake. This was the first time I’d seen him since my transformation.

I tried to explain. "Damien, you were both gone. I was shot. I had to call Alex for help. Please, just let him be."

Alex, his back to Damien, made a precise incision. A bead of sweat trickled down his temple. "Almost there."

"Almost where?" Damien sneered. "Almost in bed together? Is that it?"

Without another word, he flung Alex against the wall. The sharp crack of bone was sickeningly loud.

"No!" I screamed, but it was too late.

Alex's arm was broken.

I scrambled off the bed to help him, the wound on my chest slowly knitting itself closed.

Damien laughed, a cold, ugly sound. "If you're going to cheat, at least come up with a better excuse. A few more minutes and that wound of yours will have healed completely."

As he spoke, the silver bullet, freed for a moment, sank back into my flesh.

He was so close. I was so close to being saved.

The desire to give up, an old feeling I’d suppressed countless times since becoming a vampire, surged back with the force of a tidal wave. Maybe this was fate.

From behind Damien, Lily gave me a smug, unwavering smile. She wasn't having a relapse. She wasn't sick at all.

Damien started to lead her away to get her "medicine," but I called out to him.

My voice was a raw whisper. "Please, fix Alex's arm. He can't lose the use of his hand."

He didn't even turn around, leaving me with nothing but his cold, indifferent back.

The grief was the final straw. All I felt was regret.

"I'm not coming back," I said, my voice gaining a sliver of strength. "We're done."

He chose to ignore me.

"You need to fix that temper of yours. I don't want to spend the next thousand years coddling you."

Coddling? He didn't deserve to even speak to me.

Silently, in the ruins of my heart, I called out to the Agency's system. For ten years, they had offered to bring me home, and for ten years, I had refused.

It was clear now. I never should have fallen in love with a cold, lonely monster. I was wrong.

I regret it. Take me home.

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