:Raven’s POV
I didn’t know much about vampires, but I knew enough. My mother had warned me about them when I was younger, though I never really believed it because my friends would always say they don't exist. I’d heard the stories—about the creatures that came out at night, about the garlic, the silver, and the old wood that could kill them.
I always thought it was just a mix of folklore and superstition. But now? Now, I knew that some of it was real.
My fingers brushed against the small items tucked carefully into the side of my bag, it was garlic cloves, a small silver pendant I’d taken from an old family heirloom, the same one I had used to strike Dante and a splinter of old wood.
It wasn’t much, but my intuition had told me to prepare. Something about Jerome felt off right in the
