Blood and Consequence

The man smelled of fear and bourbon.

He sat hunched at his kitchen table, cigarette smoke curling around his thinning hair. A photograph sat beside his glass of whiskey—a woman and two kids smiling from behind the glass.

Rio’s fangs ached as he watched from the shadows.

“You’re up, sugar,” Odessa whispered behind him. Her voice was almost gentle. Almost. “The Council doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”Rio stepped forward, boots silent on the worn linoleum.

The man looked up, startled. His eyes went wide when they landed on Rio’s pale face.

“Jesus,” he rasped, fumbling for the pistol on the table. “Who the hell are you?”

Rio’s hand shot out, knocking the gun across the room.

“This isn’t about me,” he said quietly.

But even as the words left his lips, a knot formed in his stomach.

The man struggled, but Rio pinned him against the wall. The scent of his blood—warm, alive—hit Rio like a hammer. His teeth ached. Hunger roared.

“No…” the man whispered. “Please. I have kids...”

Rio’s fangs sank into his neck.

The taste was electric—copper and fire and heat. The man’s heartbeat pounded wildly under his lips, then slowed… slowed… until it stopped.

When Rio pulled back, the man’s body crumpled in his arms like a broken doll. His blood still coated Rio’s tongue, thick and cloying.

He felt sick.

Odessa stepped forward, her expression unreadable.

“There,” she murmured. “First one’s the hardest.”

Rio dropped the body, his hands shaking.

“He was human.”

“Of course he was.” Odessa’s lips curved in a sharp smile. “They all are.” Later, Rio found the file on the man’s table.

Clippings. Names. Dates.

He wasn’t a traitor. He wasn’t working against vampires.

He was a reporter—digging into missing persons cases. Every trail led to one place.

The Council.

They’d used Rio to tie up a loose end. Back at the bait shop, Junie smelled the blood before she saw him.

“You did it,” she said softly.

Rio collapsed into a chair, burying his face in his hands.

“I thought I was saving us. But I wasn’t. They used me.”

Junie knelt in front of him, her small hands clutching his.

“Then don’t let them keep using you.” Her voice was firmer now. Stronger. “Fight back.”

That night, Junie trained harder than ever. Her eyes flashed in the candlelight.

“I won’t be their pawn either,” she said. “We’ll stand together.”

For the first time in weeks, Rio felt a flicker of hope. Two nights later, a raven tapped at the window, a sealed scroll tied to its leg.

Rio unrolled it with numb fingers.

“Rio Valentine. The Elders summon you to New Orleans. A Ball of sorts. Dress your best. There is much to discuss about your… future.”

Odessa smiled darkly from the corner.

“You’re in the game now, sugar. No backing out.”

Junie stepped beside Rio, her expression hardening. “Then let’s play to win.” 

 

The mansion was alive.

Golden light spilled from tall windows, flickering across wrought iron balconies tangled in vines. Music drifted into the heavy night air—soft piano notes threading through the distant hum of the French Quarter.

Rio adjusted his cuff links. His hair slicked back and his facial hair lined up nicely he almost looked like a new man. The starched black of his suit clung like a second skin. The blade hidden inside his jacket felt heavier than it should.

“Relax, sugar.”

Odessa leaned in the doorway, a vision in blood-red silk. Her chocolate skin gleamed under the gaslight like polished bronze. Gold hoops swayed with every slight tilt of her head.

“You’re about to walk into a nest of predators. They can smell fear.”

“I’m not afraid,” Rio said.

Odessa’s lips curved in a slow, knowing smile.

“Keep telling yourself that.” Junie stepped out of  a separate car behind him, her heels clicking softly on cobblestones. She wore a gown of deep midnight blue, her golden-red hair swept up with a pearl comb.

Rio turned, and for a moment, the world fell away.

“You… clean up nice,” she whispered.

“You look…” He stopped, searching for words.

“Like trouble?” she teased softly.

“Like something I’d swim through hell to protect,” he said before he could stop himself.

Junie’s cheeks flushed. She looked away, biting her lip.

Odessa, watching from behind, narrowed her eyes. The doors opened, and the scent hit Rio like a wall.

Blood. Expensive perfume. Polished wood and velvet.

The ballroom sprawled before them—a cathedral of decadence. Vampires glided across the marble floor in gowns and tailored suits, their movements inhumanly graceful. Chandeliers dripped with candles, their flames reflecting in countless dark eyes.

Mortals moved among them like lambs in a den of wolves—servers carrying trays of crimson-filled goblets, musicians playing with blank, glassy stares.

“You keep your head down, sugar,” Odessa murmured in Rio’s ear. “The Elders are watching.”

At the far end of the room, a raised dais held them—the Council. Figures draped in black, faces pale and ageless, eyes sharp as broken glass. Music swelled. Couples spun across the floor in elegant waltzes.

Rio held out a hand to Junie.

“Dance with me.”

Junie hesitated.

“I… I’m not very good—”

“Neither am I.” A faint smile tugged at his lips. “We’ll fake it together.”

Her fingers slid into his, and he pulled her close.

They moved awkwardly at first, but soon their steps found a rhythm. Around them, predators circled—hungry eyes flicking to Junie, curious glances at Rio.

But he only saw her.

And she… only him.

“You don’t have to keep me safe all the time,” she whispered.

“Don’t I?” His hand tightened slightly on her waist.

“You make me feel…” She trailed off, searching his face.

“Like what?”

“Like maybe this isn’t all bad. Like maybe there’s still something good left in us.”

Her voice trembled, but her eyes stayed locked on his.

Rio’s throat tightened.

“I’m starting to believe that too,” he murmured. Then it happened.

A faint click from the edge of the ballroom.

Junie stiffened, her gaze snapping toward a young woman near the grand staircase. She was dressed like the servers but clutched a small black object. Another click. A flash.

A camera.

The music stopped.

The entire room turned as one, hundreds of predator’s eyes fixing on her.

“Bring her here.”

The Elder’s voice was quiet. It carried like a blade through velvet.

Two vampires materialized from the crowd and seized the woman. She screamed as they dragged her across the marble, the camera falling with a shatter.

They threw her down at the foot of the dais. The Elder extended a pale hand.

“Expose her throat.”

The woman thrashed, crying. Her voice cracked.

“I—I wasn’t—I didn’t know—”

But her pleas were silenced as one of the guards wrenched her head back, baring her neck. “Rio Valentine.”

The Elder’s black eyes found his.

“Step forward.” He hesitated.

“She’s just a girl…” His voice was low, tight.

“She’s a liability. A mouth that saw too much.”

“I—”

“Drink.” Odessa’s voice was in his ear, smooth and sweet as poison.

“Do it, sugar. If you don’t, someone else will… and they won’t be gentle.”

Junie’s hand brushed his as he stepped forward, her wide eyes pleading silently.

But he had no choice.

The woman sobbed as he knelt.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

Then his fangs sank in. The first taste hit him like lightning. Warmth. Salt. Iron. Life.

And then the room shifted.

The scent of fresh blood drove every vampire into a frenzy.

One by one, they surged forward.

The woman’s scream was swallowed by a hundred hungry mouths as the vampires descended. Cloth tore, chandeliers swayed, and the ballroom became a slaughterhouse.

Junie clung to Rio’s arm as they backed away. Odessa stood calm and radiant, watching the chaos with a faint, cruel smile.

A council servant appeared. “Sir Valentine, there’s a car waiting for you outside,” he announced with a bow.

“This,” Odessa said softly, “is the world you chose.”

“No.” Rio’s jaw tightened. His voice was steel.

“This is the world I’m going to burn down.”