“You’re turning him into a vampire?” Tom asked, his voice teetering between disbelief and frustration as I swaddled myself in a blanket and tugged him out into the cold night. The chill didn’t bother me much anymore—not after everything. Arthur lay slumped inside the carriage, fast asleep, though I couldn’t say the same for the flickers of humanity still trapped in his changing mind. That little shard of rationality made him more dangerous than if he’d already slipped completely.

  “Aye!” I chirped, offering Tom a lazy salute and trying—and failing—not to burst into giggles. The laughter bubbled up uncontrollably, spurred by whatever absurd cocktail of drugs Markus had left behind. He always hoarded the strongest stuff for the officers, and tonight, I’d dipped in a little too deep. My body buzzed with a sort of manic clarity, far past what even I could usually handle.

  Tom stared at me, exasperated. “Why? Doesn’t it take weeks for them to even remember how to speak again? How the hell are you going to hide a bloodthirsty, half-aware vampire for that long?”

  I tilted my head to the side, raising my eyebrows with an air of exaggerated curiosity. His words were like distant thunder—present, but not pressing. My attention drifted toward the sky. The clouds loomed low and grey, pregnant with rain. As long as they didn’t burst open, I didn’t particularly mind the conversation.

  “I mean, you’re looking but… but…” I paused, fingers scratching idly at my cheek as laughter escaped me again in breathy bursts. The thought that had formed in my head dissolved, scattered like leaves in the wind.

  “You’re looking, but you’re not seeing?” Tom offered, deadpan. “Is that what you were going for? Whatever the hell that means.”

  Was it really that obvious? Maybe I had been trying to say that. Either way, he’d nailed it, and I couldn’t help but grin, the absurdity of it all making it somehow even funnier.

  “Hehe… can you read minds now?” I said, half hiding my face behind my hands. “Wow… you’re just like Aska…”

  The moment the name slipped out, my eyes widened. I hadn’t meant to say it. I pressed my palms harder to my mouth, but it was too late. Tom caught it.

  He paused. Then, slowly: “Do I even want to ask? Actually… no. Probably not.” He shook his head, brushing past the comment. “Boss, what are we supposed to do about the feral vampire currently napping inside the carriage?”

  My gaze drifted longingly toward it. Arthur’s transformation wasn’t complete, but he was already a danger—more instinct than thought now. I took a shaky step toward the carriage, only for Tom to catch me by the shoulders. His grip was firm. Too firm.

  “Let me… go…” I mumbled, trying to twist away. But my limbs weren’t working properly. Either I was weaker than I thought, or Tom had suddenly gained the strength of a bear.

  “Answer the question first,” he said coolly. “Then I’ll let you go.”

  Tears welled up in my eyes. Frustration? Overwhelm? It didn’t matter. My voice cracked as I tried to hold myself together, explaining my plan between ragged sobs and half-lucid ramblings.

  “First… we go back to the mansion. And then… we commit a few… murders?” I sniffled, wiping at my cheeks. “Then we… set it all on fire. Everything. And then… umm… I kinda forgot what comes next…”

  I looked up at him, eyes red and glassy. “Success?”

  Tom let out a long, controlled breath. I could practically hear him counting in his head, trying not to lose whatever composure he had left, while I stood there—a broken, laughing, crying mess of good intentions and very, very bad decisions.

  “Alright, boss… as promised.” Tom’s voice was calm but firm as he finally released his grip from my shoulders. I didn’t wait for a second invitation—I pushed off and dashed toward the carriage, drugs fueling my every step. The uneven cobblestones betrayed me twice; I stumbled and scraped my palms against the rough street, but stubbornness drove me on. After what felt like an eternity, I finally reached the carriage and slammed the door shut behind me with a definitive thud.

  Without hesitation, I collapsed onto Arthur again, draping my arms tightly around his neck. The weight of his arms pressed down on me like an anchor, heavy and unyielding, but somehow comforting. Tears, wet and warm, slipped silently from my eyes—tears I couldn’t name or explain. Exhaustion clawed at me from every side, and slowly, inevitably, I drifted into a restless sleep.

  * * *

  The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

  Hours later, I groaned softly, the words escaping me like a curse: “Oh, for fuck’s sake… these headaches are killing me.”

  Beneath me, several layers of threadbare blankets cushioned my battered body against the jagged street below. The night air was sharp and cold, seeping in around the edges where the blankets didn’t cover Arthur and me. Still, I was grateful for the heat radiating from his body pressing down on mine, the weight of him squashing me uncomfortably but also keeping me cozy.

  My limbs sprawled in every direction, tangled and heavy. I was too drained—too trapped inside the throbbing pain in my skull—to bother fixing my posture or caring about comfort.

  “That’s what happens when you swallow a ration of drugs meant for almost every officer over the course of several weeks—all in just a few days,” Tom’s voice echoed nearby. I didn’t even have the strength to answer; hearing him wasn’t unpleasant, but talking was beyond my reach.

  “Is there… at least enough left for him?” I managed to whisper, the thought of facing a conscious Arthur nearly breaking me.

  “Hmm, we should arrive tomorrow night,” Tom said quietly. This trip was supposed to last a week, but the haze in my mind blurred those days together—I could barely recall more than four.

  “Oh shit…” I muttered under my breath, the weight of the remaining time sinking in like a stone in my gut.

  “What happened to you? Why did you take all those drugs?” His tone softened, genuine concern bleeding through. It was comforting, in its own way, knowing he cared—but the thought that I’d be left alone with this bloodsucker for the last day made my heart race.

  “Will you go away if I answer your questions?” I asked, desperation creeping into my voice.

  “Sure.”

  “He started getting touchy with me on the second day after we threw you out,” I explained, my voice barely above a whisper. “Probably because of the blood he ingested.” I wasn’t sure if that was enough to satisfy Tom, but it was the truth, as far as I knew.

  Tom let out a low chuckle, incredulous. “And it was so disgusting that you took drugs just to put up with it?” For a moment, I had to pause and consider his reasoning. Honestly, it made a twisted kind of sense.

  “What? No,” I replied quickly, brushing off his assumption. “I just… grew bored of him.”

  I caught movement out of the corner of my eye—Arthur was slowly stirring, eyelids fluttering as he edged toward consciousness. “And what can I say? I’ve never said no to a drug trip so far…” I added, trying to sound casual but failing miserably.

  Tom raised an eyebrow. “That’s… an unexpected reason. Don’t you have someone special?” His finger pointed between Arthur’s body and mine, to the space where skin shouldn′t meet but did—where the dark secret lingered.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said, rolling my head to the side toward where I thought Tom was sitting. Even in my drug-addled haze, I noticed something strange—his eyes glowed faintly, a soft pink hue pulsing beneath the surface.

  “Aska,” he said simply.

  My mind short-circuited. Where the hell did he get that name? And what did it have to do with me? The connection eluded me completely, like a puzzle with half the pieces missing.

  “How much do you know?” I asked, voice tight and rising with anger.

  “Everything,” Tom said, his face unreadable, flat. But his hands clenched the edge of the bench so hard his knuckles turned white.

  “Liar.” I spat the word, venom sharp in my throat. “If you want to survive, you better forget that name.”

  I closed my eyes again, just as a fresh wave of searing pain crashed through my skull. I groaned involuntarily—and that sudden noise stirred Arthur awake.

  He was still heavily drugged, sluggish in his movements, but dangerous all the same. As he shifted his weight on top of me, I felt the immobility settle in. My arms trapped beneath him, every attempt to move was restricted. His breath was hot against my neck, and I knew with chilling certainty that he had perfect access.

  Tempted by the sweet warmth of my blood, he wasted no time. His human teeth sank deep into the tender skin at my nape, piercing it with ease.

  A strange moan escaped me, my groaning twisting into something closer to pleasure as the waves of pain briefly faded. It was a cruel relief, momentary and intoxicating—until Arthur pulled away, sated for the moment. My skin began to heal slowly, the wound sealing beneath his touch.

  The quiet aftermath was heavy, filled with the weight of what was to come.

  “Why are you moaning when he bites you?” Tom asked, his voice dripping with disbelief. I wanted to punch him—hard—but between the crushing weight of Arthur pinning me down and the relentless pounding in my head, I barely had the strength or freedom to move, let alone throw a punch.

  “For fuck’s sake, you’re moaning like a bitch in heat yourself every time you stick your thingy in some dark, wet hole, you voyeur,” I snarled, glaring up at him with what little fire I could muster.

  “That’s an entirely different thing,” he shot back, and I might have laughed if the stabbing pain in my temples hadn’t been so relentless.

  “Is it?” I spat, voice thick with sarcasm. “The gods made reproduction a pleasurable experience for both humans and vampires, you idiot.” I caught him watching me, his expression somewhere between fascinated and incredulous. Neither of us seemed bothered that I was baring this embarrassingly intimate moment aloud, which said a lot about both of us—more, probably, about me.

  Tom didn’t stop there. “Why is he groping your butt and breasts, though? Shouldn’t that have stopped by now? And why aren’t you doing anything about it? And more importantly… where the hell is your bra?”

  I had to thank him for pointing that out. My headaches had swallowed my awareness whole. I’d barely been listening, much less paying attention to what Arthur was doing to me. I’d been shutting out every touch, focusing only on the gentle, simmering warmth radiating from Arthur’s body pressing against mine.

  “There’s still a huge human part left inside him … or something …” I muttered, voice hoarse and exhausted. “He’s just expressing his… love for me, through both human and vampire ways right now… I’m too tired to… Why am I even telling… telling you this?”