My Vampire Roomate

The clock ticks down

I woke tangled in Sebastian’s sheets, his cool skin pressed against mine, a stark contrast to the heat still lingering from last night. My clothes were a chaotic trail across the floor, evidence of our reckless abandon. His scent—dark, earthy, irresistible—filled the room, wrapping around me like a spell. Most people would’ve bolted after learning their lover was a vampire, but there I was, sprawled against his chest, trusting he wouldn’t snap my neck. Was I crazy? Naive? Maybe fearless. All I knew was his closeness made me feel safe, even with fangs in the equation.

Then he stirred, his fingers brushing my hair, voice rumbling low. “Looks like Sleeping Beauty’s awake.” I shifted, throwing a leg over his waist, climbing on top, my eyes glinting with leftover mischief from the night before.

“Had fun last night,” I teased, my smile daring him to relive it.

“Me too. You’re something else,” he said, pulling me down for a kiss. I rolled off, but his phone buzzed, shattering the moment. Franklin’s name lit the screen.

“Sebastian, I’m hurt! Your brother’s alive—just tried to kill me!” Franklin’s voice crackled with panic.

“Where?” Sebastian was already yanking on clothes, urgency hardening his features.

“Behind Elmwood supermarket, hurry!” The call cut out. I sat up, confusion swirling.

“Who was that?” I asked, my voice small against the storm brewing in him.

“Franklin’s in trouble. Stay here—you’re safe in the apartment,” he said, pressing a kiss to my forehead before vanishing out the door. He’d told me vampires couldn’t enter without an invite, so I was untouchable here. Still, his absence left a hollow ache.

Alone, my stomach growled like a feral thing. I shuffled to the kitchen, slapping together a bagel with cream cheese—a trick my mom taught me years ago, back when she still cared. I tried calling Rose, but her phone was off. Then it hit me: the basement. That locked mystery had gnawed at me since day one, and with Sebastian gone, this was my shot.

I finished eating, nerves buzzing, and crept toward the basement door. My heartbeat thundered in my ears, fear clawing up my spine as I tugged at the handle. Locked, of course. I scanned the room—where would he hide a key? Drawers, shelves—nothing. Then I remembered: his room. He’d left me there before rushing out.

I rifled through his stuff—drawers, wardrobe, pockets—until I found it, tucked in a shoe under the wardrobe. Cold metal in hand, I returned to the basement, breath shallow. I slid the key in, ready to turn it—

Knock! Knock!

I froze, stashing the key in my pocket, grabbing a shirt to cover up, thinking it might be Sebastian. “Who’s that?” I snapped, irritation edging out fear.

“It’s the delivery guy,” a voice called back. Delivery? I hadn’t ordered anything. Had he?

Wary, I cracked the door—and stared into the face of my nightmare. Eric. The man who’d vowed to kill me stood inches away, his evil grin chilling my blood. He was Sebastian’s height, but his build was sharper, more menacing, radiating power that pinned me in place. I couldn’t move, couldn’t slam the door.

“Hello, princess,” he purred, his voice thick with an ancient, cruel edge.

“You’re going to let me in,” he said, his tone slithering into my mind, hypnotic. I felt a tug, a fuzziness—like I’d been here before. Had Sebastian compelled me once and wiped it away? My will crumbled, and I stepped aside.

“Come in,” I mumbled, helpless.

He strode inside, eyes sweeping the room. “My brother does have taste, you must admit.” His gaze snapped back to me, piercing. “Sit.”

“Are you going to kill me?” My voice was a whisper, barely there.

He tilted his head, almost puzzled. “Sit,” he barked, sharper now. I dropped into a chair, sensing the irritation rolling off him.

“Typical Sebastian, leaving you alone,” he said, closing the distance, predator in every step. “What’s your name?”

“Emma,” I choked out, trembling. He rummaged through a cabinet, pulling out wine. I saw my chance—lurch toward the door—but he was there in a blink, his speed unreal, shoving me back down.

“Brave one,” he mocked, sipping the wine, eyes never leaving mine. “I bet my brother filled you in on our history?”

I nodded, spilling Sebastian’s tale—the escape, the fire. Eric’s laugh was hollow, bitter. “Is that what he told you?” He leaned in, eyes blazing. “Let me give you the real story.”

His version gutted me. He’d shared his blood with Sebastian in that lab, weakening himself so his brother could break free. The lab never burned—Eric escaped alone after Sebastian didn’t return. He’d had a lover, Riya. When he found her, Sebastian was draining her dry, lost in a blood-fueled rampage. Eric attacked, a candle fell, and her apartment ignited. Sebastian begged him to flee, but Eric stayed with Riya’s body, mourning as flames roared. Sebastian ran, leaving him to die.

“How did you escape?” I whispered, reeling from the horror.

“Underground exit I’d built under Riya’s place,” he said, voice like frost. “I buried her there, then swore to end him.”

He stood, tale over, and fear surged back. He squatted to my level, eyes tracing my neck, hunger flaring as he smelled my blood. He leaned in, tasting my skin, lips curling. “You taste divine… too bad I won’t feed on you.”

“So you’re not going to kill me?” I gasped, breathless.

He reached into a bag I hadn’t noticed, pulling out a bomb. “I didn’t say that.” His grin twisted. “We’re playing a game.” He tied me to a dining pole, my struggles useless against his strength. The bomb went above my head, clicked on—ten minutes counting down. He brushed my hair back, voice soft. “A shame, you remind me of Riya.” He snatched my phone, dialed Sebastian.

“Hello, brother,” he said, smug as hell.

“Eric?! What have you done to Emma?” Sebastian’s panic crackled through.

“Nothing that can’t be fixed, but clock’s ticking. Ten minutes, or she’s history.” He hung up, cutting off Sebastian’s plea.

“Don’t count on him,” Eric said, eyes cold. “He’s good at saving his own skin. Good luck.” Then he was gone, leaving me alone to my fate.