Elias

Chapter 5 Harper

I walk down the long, narrow alleyway, boot heels clicking softly against the damp concrete. The city hums behind me, but here, in this forgotten crack between buildings, the world feels still.

I come to a halt in front of two black double doors. Busty Empire is carved into the wood with delicate precision—ornate, stylish, almost regal. Ivy coils around the frame like it’s been growing there for decades, softening the entrance in a way that almost makes it seem welcoming.

But I know better.

This is a perfect location for the dead to walk unnoticed. No one asks questions in a place like this.

People see what they want to see. They crave mystery without knowing what it costs.

I take a breath. Deep, steadying.

Then push the door open.

Immediately, I’m hit with the scent of old blood and something worse—stale sweat and rot. Not from corpses, no. The vampires in here might be centuries old, but somehow they still haven’t mastered basic hygiene.

Showers exist. Deodorant is a thing. It’s 2025, for f**k’s sake.

I descend the staircase slowly. Something about it pulls at me—a magnetic eeriness that coils in my gut.

My head is screaming bad idea, but my heart is already halfway down the steps.

I pause.

A chill clings to the back of my neck.

I’m being watched.

I turn, instincts sharp.

He stands at the top of the stairs, half-shrouded in shadow. Older. Tall.

Not just a man.

A vampire.

His eyes flash red for a second—quick, subtle—before cooling into an ocean blue that nearly stops me in my tracks.

He wears a tailored charcoal suit that fits him like sin itself.

Sharp jaw.

Slick smile.

Boyish charm with something ancient behind it.

His presence crackles.

And damn it all, he’s…beautiful.

I shake my head, trying to snap myself out of it.

What the actual f**k was that?

“If you’re looking for the bar,” he says, his voice smooth but laced with amusement, “you’re definitely heading in the wrong direction.”

Confidence radiates off him like heat from a flame. He doesn’t need to puff his chest—he owns whatever room he walks into.

I keep my stance casual, calm. Letting him think he has the upper hand would be a rookie mistake.

“You really should put signs in the hallway,” I reply coolly, c*****g a brow.

He grins, slow and knowing. “You mean that one?”

He gestures, and sure enough, there’s a sign with BAR and a big, bold arrow pointing to the right.

I stare at it.

How in the hell did I miss that?

My cheeks warm with irritation—more at myself than him.

“Right. Well, now that I look even stupider than I feel,” I mutter, stepping past him with a shoulder bump, “I’ll be going.”

His hand closes gently but firmly around my shoulder.

Hunter reflexes kick in. For a moment, I’m ready to drive a stake straight through his chest—

But then… nothing.

No fear.

No threat.

Just a calm. Strange and stilling. Like standing in the eye of a storm.

“Can I help you?” I ask, turning back, my tone sharp but not hostile.

“Your name,” he says, voice low.

I lean in close, lips just beside his ear. “Do you really think I’d give you my name, vampire?”

I pull away and walk toward the bar entrance, my spine straight and sharp.

I can feel his eyes still on me—piercing, curious, unsettled.

Good.

The bar is dark, moody, and smells of old wood and whiskey.

Music hums low from hidden speakers, bass vibrating beneath my boots.

I spot them instantly.

Eloise is radiant as always, perched on a velvet stool with a glowing cocktail in hand. Her laughter is like a soft bell, brightening the whole damn room. She has no idea what’s around her—and that’s the problem.

Sebastian sits beside her, the polar opposite. Stoic, alert, eyes already scanning the room. He’s got a whiskey in hand and a tension in his shoulders I know too well.

As I approach, I meet his eyes.

We don’t need words.

With the smallest of gestures—a subtle scratch at his jaw, a tap of his finger on the glass—he gives me the signal.

We’re not alone.

As if I needed to be told.

Eloise beams when she sees me. “This place isn’t half bad, is it?” she says cheerfully, raising her glass like this is just any other night.

I glance around.

Vampires lounge at nearby tables. Some blending in effortlessly. Others not even trying.

The air hums with tension and secrets.

I give her a small smile, forcing the warmth. “Yeah,” I murmur.

“Not half bad.”

But in my head, the words echo differently.

Not half good either.