Blood on Fire

Chapter5

I didn’t go straight home. Not yet. I needed air. I needed space. My hands were still shaking, and the smell of blood still clung to my nose.

So I stopped at a small bar just a few blocks from my apartment. Nothing fancy, no dim lights, no smoky corners. Just plain walls, clean tables, and the soft hum of music playing in the background. A few older couples were dancing near the jukebox, moving slowly to an old love song. I watched them for a moment and smiled. It was a cute, ordinary place. Exactly what I needed.

Before going in, I stopped at a nearby public restroom to change. I peeled off my black jacket, still stained with dust and ash, and replaced it with something simple: blue jeans, a soft gray hoodie, and clean white sneakers. I tied my hair into a loose bun and slipped on a pair of fake glasses. I always left one of my go-bags hidden above the ceiling panel in that restroom, just in case.

The girl in the mirror looked nothing like a vampire hunter. She looked like a normal college student, trying to clear her head after a long day.

That’s how I wanted it.

Instead of my usual fizzy fruit juice, I ordered whiskey.

Dennis, the bartender, raised an eyebrow the moment I said it. He looked the same as always: his mid-30s, sleeves rolled up, apron a little stained, and that familiar smirk that made him look like he’d seen it all but didn’t mind hearing it again. I’d been coming here for months. He never asked questions. Never looked too long. That’s what makes this place perfect for nights like this.

“You sure?” he asked, half-laughing as he reached for the bottle. “Not your usual sparkling whatever?”

I gave him a tired smile. “Just needed something stronger tonight.”

He chuckled as he poured the drink. “Rough day?” I just nodded. He didn’t ask for more. He never did.

Dennis slid the drink across the counter. I wrapped my fingers around the cold glass and stared into it for a moment, watching the ice swirl and clink against the sides. The music in the background was soft and old, some mellow jazz tune from decades ago, probably before I was born. A few people were talking quietly near the window. Two older women sat in the corner, laughing over wine and holding hands. A slow song started playing, and a couple, maybe in their seventies, stood and started to dance. I took a slow sip of whiskey. The burn warmed my throat and settled heavily in my chest. It was stronger than what I was used to, but I didn’t flinch. I let it steady me.

No blood.

No screaming.

No red eyes waiting in the dark.

Just a bar, soft music, and the faint scent of citrus cleaner on the counter.

I leaned back a little, letting the sound of the music wrap around me. For a second, I just watched the older couple swaying in the middle of the bar. No shame, no awkwardness, just joy. The woman wore a purple dress, and her white hair was clipped up neatly. Her partner wore suspenders and moved like his bones were older than the building. They looked like love. And peace. And everything I didn’t know how to touch anymore.

Then the woman spotted me.

She smiled, warm, mischievous, and started walking over, her heels clicking softly on the wood floor. Before I could even look away, she reached my table and grabbed my hand.

“Come on, darling,” she said, her voice full of life. “Let’s dance.”

I started to protest. “Oh, no, I—really, I’m not—”

But she was strong for her age. She tugged at my hand, and the next thing I knew, I was on the dance floor, surrounded by grinning strangers. I laughed, really laughed, as she spun me around. I even sang a little as the music swelled. For those few minutes, I wasn’t a vampire hunter. I was just a college girl dancing with strangers, sipping whiskey between songs.

And it felt nice.

After a few hours, I started to feel… strange.

At first, it was just a light buzz. A little warmth in the face, a little light in the head, normal stuff. But then, the floor seemed to shift slightly beneath me. Not spinning, but off. My vision began to blur at the edges. I blinked hard, trying to stay steady.

What’s wrong with me? I thought, gripping the side of the table. It was just ten shots… Okay, maybe that was a lot. More than usual. Maybe I hadn’t eaten enough before drinking. Maybe it was the stress finally catching up. Or maybe I’d just hit my limit.

“I guess I’m weaker today,” I muttered to myself, wobbling slightly as I made my way back to the bar.

I sat on the same stool I’d used earlier, resting my elbows on the counter and letting out a deep breath. The cool surface helped ground me a little. Dennis noticed right away. He leaned over from the other end of the counter, raising an eyebrow.

“Are you okay?” he asked with a light grin.

I nodded slowly. “Yeah. Just... dizzy. I think alcohol hit me harder than I expected.”

“Really?” he teased. “You think?”

I gave him a tired smirk and rolled my eyes. “Can I get something without alcohol? Maybe juice or soda?”

“Coming right up,” he said with a chuckle. He reached under the counter and, in less than a minute, slid a tall glass of pineapple juice in front of me. “Try this. It’ll help.”

“Thanks,” I mumbled, wrapping both hands around the glass like it might slip from my grip.

The sweet, tangy flavor was a shock after all the whiskey, but it was cold and refreshing. I took another long sip, already feeling a bit more human. The music had shifted to something slower. Softer. The older couple was still dancing, their movements now gentle and swaying. In the back, a group of friends laughed over something I couldn’t hear. The world around me had settled into a peaceful rhythm.

I finished the pineapple juice and reached for my wallet to pay. Dennis was busy with another customer, so I quietly placed the money under the glass and stood up. I tried to walk straight, pretending I wasn’t dizzy. My head wobbled a little, and I shook it gently as I moved toward the exit.

Then, someone grabbed my hand.

I didn’t even feel it at first, maybe because I was drunk, maybe because I let my guard down.

The scent of roses hit me, soft, sweet, unexpected. Then a voice, calm and low, whispered, “Sorry… It’s just a dare.”

Before I could react, before I could even speak, I felt soft lips press against mine.

What the f—?

I froze.

And then everything went black.