"I'm not killing humans. I don't care what you need done."
"Agreed. I have no interest in drawing that kind of attention."
"And I'm not turning anyone. Even if you order it."
"Also agreed. Forced turnings are beneath me."
She nods slowly. "Then we have a deal."
I stand and extend my hand. After a moment, she takes it. Her grip is firmer now, the poison receding enough that her strength is returning.
"Welcome to my employ, Celeste Moreau," I say. "Try not to make me regret this."
"Same to you," she replies.
And despite myself, despite six hundred years of emotional control, I almost smile.
Chapter
Three
Maximus leaves me in the medical facility with instructions to rest, which is hilarious considering I've been a vampire for eight months and still don't entirely understand what "rest" means anymore.
I don't sleep the way I used to. It's more like… shutting down. Going dormant. My body enters a state somewhere between sleep and death, and I wake up feeling neither refreshed nor tired. Just… existing.
But I'm not ready to shut down yet. Not here, in a stranger's compound, no matter how fancy the medical equipment or how clean the blood supply.
I swing my legs off the table and stand carefully. The room tilts slightly, but nowhere near as bad as before. The second bag of clean blood did its job. I can feel my body repairing itself, vampire healing working the way it's supposed to when it has proper fuel.
The black veins under my skin have faded to faint shadows. If I weren't looking for them, I might miss them entirely. My strengthis returning, that supernatural power that still feels foreign even after eight months. Like wearing someone else's body.
I explore the medical facility slowly, cataloging details the way I used to before fights. Know your environment. Identify exits. Understand the terrain.
The room is pristine, with white walls, stainless steel equipment, and everything organized with obsessive precision. There's a sink in the corner, cabinets that probably contain medical supplies, and that refrigerator full of blood bags. Each one is labeled with a date, blood type, and what looks like a donor ID number.
This isn't some makeshift operation. This is a system. Infrastructure. The kind of thing that takes years, maybe decades, to build.
How powerful is Maximus, exactly?
I move to the door and press my ear against it. Vampire hearing picks up sounds from deeper in the building. Footsteps. Voices too low to make out words. The hum of climate control systems.
The door isn't locked.
That surprises me more than it should. He told me not to leave, but he didn't actually restrain me. Either he's confident I won't try to escape, or he's confident he could stop me if I did.
Probably both.
I crack the door open and peer into the hallway. Empty. The floor is the same black and white marble as the foyer, lit by recessed lighting that's probably on automated timers.
Everything about this place screams money, power, and control.
I step into the hallway, closing the door quietly behind me. I'm not trying to escape. Where would I even go? But I need to understand where I am. What I've agreed to.
The hallway extends in both directions. To the left, it leads back toward the foyer I remember from when we arrived. To the right, it continues deeper into the building, with multiple doors branching off.
I go right.
The first door I pass is closed, but there's a small window set into it. I peek through and see what looks like a server room, rows of equipment with blinking lights, climate-controlled, and humming with power. Serious tech. Not what I expected in a vampire's compound.
