6. The Truth in the Shadows

Edric

I thought Leon had been exaggerating when he asked me why I let the ‘vampire’ touch me. I thought maybe it was a kink in the club.

That was the first mistake.

After the night he dragged me into that private room, after the bruising kiss, the way his hands shook like he was holding himself back from something far worse, I had tried to convince myself that it had all been theatre. A performance. A role he played as the owner of Luna Noir.

When he said vampire, I had thought it was symbolic. A nickname. A metaphor for wealthy, predatory clients who fed on dancers’ desperation.

I told myself that because the alternative was unthinkable. Unimaginable even.

Tonight, I learned the truth.

It happened after my shift ended. I had finished changing, my body still buzzing with leftover adrenaline, Leon nowhere in sight. That alone should have sent me straight out the door, but curiosity tugged at me. Or maybe it was denial. I wanted proof that I wasn’t losing my mind. I took a wrong turn on purpose.

The hallway I stepped into was quieter than the rest of the club, the bass fading into a distant thrum. The air felt different here. It was cooler, heavier and like it pressed against my chest. My footsteps sounded too loud against the polished floor, and I slowed, every instinct screaming that I shouldn’t be here.

That was when I heard it: A soft sound. Wet. Intimate.

A breathy whimper that didn’t sound like pleasure, or pain, but something dangerously close to both. I froze.

My heart began to pound so hard that I thought it would give me away. The sound came again, followed by a low murmur. A voice, smooth and calm and threaded with hunger.

“Easy,” it said. “You’ll heal. Aren't you enjoying it?”

Heal?

I took one step closer before I could stop myself. The door was slightly open. Then I looked and I immediately wished I hadn’t.

A man was pressed against the wall, head tilted back, eyes glassy and unfocused. His skin was pale, too pale for a human, and there was blood at his throat. Fresh. Dark. Still running. Another man stood before him, hands braced on either side of his head. Except… he wasn’t entirely a man.

His eyes glowed red in the dim light. Not reflecting. Glowing. His mouth was buried in the other man’s neck, and when he lifted his head, I saw it.

Fangs. Long, sharp and real.

The vampire licked the blood from his lips slowly, reverently, like it was the finest thing he had ever tasted.

My stomach dropped and I felt the world tilting.

This wasn’t pretend. It wasn’t metaphor. This… this was real.

I stumbled back before I could stop myself. My heel scraped the floor, loud in the silence, and the vampire’s head snapped toward the door. Our eyes met. Something ancient and cold looked back at me.

Run.

I didn’t think. I didn’t breathe. I turned and ran. I didn’t remember how I got out of Luna Noir. I didn’t remember the stairs, the exit, the street. I only knew my lungs burned and my heart felt like it might burst out of my chest.

Leon had been right. Everything he had said. Every warning. Every flash of possessiveness. They weren’t games. They weren’t roles. They were monsters. And I had been dancing in the middle of their feeding ground.

I didn’t stop running until I reached my apartment building. I fumbled with my keys, hands shaking so badly it took three tries to unlock the door. The moment I was inside, I slammed it shut and locked it, then slid down against it, gasping.

I pressed my palms to my face.

Gods. God, what had I gotten myself into?

Leon’s words echoed in my head: You don’t understand what this place is. You belong to me. No one touches you.

The memory of his kiss, violent, desperate, almost painful, made my skin prickle. Not with desire this time.

With fear.

Was he even human? The savagely he showed when he kissed me… God!

I pushed myself up and moved down the narrow hallway, my legs weak. The apartment smelled faintly of antiseptic and cheap food and familiar but grounding. Safe.

“Aria?” I called softly.

No answer. I found her in the living room, curled on the couch under a blanket, her skin pale, her lips cracked. The sight punched the breath from my lungs.

She looked smaller than she had this morning. She looked fragile. Too fragile.

I knelt beside her. “Hey,” I whispered. “Did you eat?”

Her eyes fluttered open. “Tried,” she murmured. “Couldn’t keep it down.”

My chest tightened painfully. I touched her forehead. Too warm. Fear rushed in, fast and merciless.

“I’ll get you water,” I said quickly, standing.

She reached out and caught my wrist. Her grip was weak but desperate. “Ed… the doctor called.”

My heart sank.

“They moved my chemo appointment up,” she whispered. “They said my numbers dropped again.”

Relapsed.

The word didn’t need to be said. It hung between us, heavy and cruel.

“I’m sorry,” she added quietly. “I know it’s expensive.”

I swallowed hard. “Don’t. Don’t apologize.”

She tried to smile but it broke my heart.

After she drifted back to sleep, I sat at the table and stared at the bills waiting for me.

Hospital charges. Medication costs. Lab work. A notice stamped in red reminding me the balance was overdue.

My hands trembled. The money from Luna Noir sat in my bag, untouched. More money than I had ever held at once. Enough for her meds. Enough for the next chemo session.

Enough to keep her alive.

I pressed my hands flat against the table and bowed my head. I couldn’t go back there. I couldn’t.

Vampires. Leon.

That club was a death trap.

And yet…

What choice did I have?

I thought of Aria’s breathing on the couch. Shallow. Uneven. Then I thought of the vampire’s eyes when he had seen me. I thought of Leon’s hands gripping me like he was fighting himself.

Mine.

The word twisted inside me.

Was he a vampire too? If I went back, I might not come out the same. But If I didn’t… my sister might not come out at all.

I sat there until dawn crept through the window, staring at the bills, my bag, and the closed bedroom door where Aria slept.

Terrified.

Trapped.

And completely alone.