My Vampire Roomate

Blood feuds

“Eric?” Sebastian’s voice was a rasp, barely cutting through the thunder of my pulse.

“In the flesh,” the man sneered, his smile all sharp teeth and menace. His eyes slid to me, cold and predatory, sending ice down my spine. “You’ve always been a liar, Sebastian, but this—this is art. Lying to this poor girl.”

I didn’t grasp the full picture, but one truth hit hard: I wasn’t safe. I pressed tighter to Sebastian, clinging to trust even as doubt chewed at me. He’d lied—about what, I couldn’t pin down—but right now, he was my shield against whatever this was.

“I thought you were dead,” Sebastian said, his voice taut. “How—”

“Oh, I’ve been dead,” Eric snapped, venom lacing every word. “Dead for 509 years. But for the last five, I’ve been dead inside.” His face twisted, rage and anguish battling it out. “And for five years, I’ve plotted this—first I’ll kill the one you love, then you.”

He jabbed a finger at me, and my stomach plummeted. Regret slammed into me like a fist. I shouldn’t have trusted Rose with my rent money, shouldn’t have texted Sebastian that night. I wouldn’t be here, staring into the jaws of death.

“I didn’t abandon you,” Sebastian said, steady despite the strain in his frame. “I was coming back. I lost track of time.”

Eric’s eyes flared—literally glowed red in the dark. I blinked, half-thinking fear was messing with me, but his fury was no illusion. “You abandoned me!” he roared, glancing my way again. “And now you’ll pay.”

It was a whirlwind. One second, I was paralyzed; the next, Sebastian had me on his back, tearing down the hill, wind screaming past. He shoved me into the car, but before he could climb in, Eric struck, a brutal punch to his jaw. Sebastian kicked back, sending Eric flying, but Eric was up fast, ramming a stick into Sebastian’s leg with a wet crunch.

I watched, breath fogging the window, as they clashed—feral, beyond human. Eric leaned in, his whisper lethal. “I won’t kill you yet. I’ll make your life a living hell first.” He melted into the fog, leaving Sebastian groaning, the stick jutting from his leg.

“I’ll drive,” I said, voice quaking, but he waved me off. He slid behind the wheel, blood pooling, and gunned it home. Silence choked the air between us the entire ride.

At his place, I stumbled out, my head a tangle of fear and fog. What had I walked into? Sebastian was an enigma, his humanity now in question.

Inside, he limped to a chair, yanking the stick free with a grimace, the lie about his brother glaringly exposed. Why fake a dead sibling? What else was he hiding? That locked basement loomed in my mind—what secrets festered there?

“Emma, you okay? Not hurt?” His voice dragged me back. I hadn’t been touched, not physically, not in that insane sprint down the hill. His speed—unnatural, terrifying, thrilling—stuck with me.

“I’m fine, thanks to you,” I whispered. “You’re the one who needs—” I froze. The wound on his leg was gone, healed like it never existed.

“Your wound—it’s gone,” I stammered, bewildered.

He nodded to the chair across from him, eyes unreadable.

He took a deep breath, pinning me with a look like he was about to spin the wildest tale. “This might be tough to believe, but I’m not human, at least not anymore.”

The hill chase and that fight had hinted at it, but this sealed it. I was in deep with the supernatural, and I craved the full truth.

“If you’re not human, what are you?” I asked, torn between dread and hunger for answers.

“Ever heard of vampires?” He leaned back, calm as if he hadn’t just dropped a bomb.

“Vampires?” A chill raced through me. Was this a twisted joke, or dead serious? Given everything, it felt real.

“They’re not real,” I said, more to reassure myself.

“Oh, we’re real,” he countered. “Just damn good at staying hidden.”

If he was a vampire, I should’ve been running. Bloodsuckers, right? Yet I felt safe, certain he wouldn’t hurt me. I had to know how he fit the legends.

“You feed on human blood?” I braced for the worst.

“Yes, but I haven’t drunk from a vein in over a century. Blood bags now,” he said, leaning closer, voice smooth and sultry. “I’d never hurt you.”

“A century? How old are you?” Eric’s talk of centuries clicked into place.

“Lost count. Born in 1464, brother five years later,” he said, nostalgia flickering as he grabbed a bottle of wine from a cabinet.

I calculated fast. “You’re 536 years old,” I said, watching him pour.

“Smart one,” he smirked, handing me a glass.

The wine was bitter, fitting the moment. “Why lie about your brother?” I asked.

“I thought he was gone for good,” he said, confusion shadowing his face.

He laid it out, voice tight. Five years ago, vampire hunters and twisted scientists nabbed them—vervain injections, chains, blood drained for experiments. One night, he broke free, weak as hell, but couldn’t reach Eric’s cell. He vowed to return, stronger, but hunger won. After years on blood bags, fresh blood sent him feral. He rampaged, blacked out in the woods. By morning, the lab was ash. A year later, he assumed Eric burned with it.

“He must’ve felt betrayed when you didn’t come back,” I said, steady but reeling. This vampire had confessed to a m******e, yet I wanted him closer, drawn in despite every warning bell.

“I never forgave myself,” he said, staring into his empty glass.

“Don’t beat yourself up. He’s alive,” I offered, words ringing thin.

He moved—too fast to track—suddenly inches from me. “He’s alive, and he wants you dead. Stay here, vampires need an invite to enter. Eric can’t harm you here,” he said, voice a mix of order and velvet, eyes blazing with barely-leashed desire, mirroring my own chaos.

This was a deadly dance—a feud spanning centuries, and I was in the thick of it. Vampires were real, and I had to adjust.

“Or what, you’ll bite me?” I teased, baring my neck, reckless. His breath grazed my skin, a kiss landing soft and precise, my pulse roaring. I didn’t care if I was prey. He pulled me in, hazel eyes searing into mine, and our lips crashed—fierce, hungry. In a blur, I was on his bed, his kisses trailing down, each one a vow, until he reached my core. I wasn’t just prey—I was consumed, sensually, by a vampire.