Rena’s POV

From the corner of my eye, I catch Carter’s gaze lingering on the horizon. His forehead furrows, lips pursing and relaxing in a silent dance with his thoughts, his fingers drumming an erratic rhythm against the steering wheel.

His jaw sets in a hard line, the muscle jumping with tension—I can almost hear it crack. The weight of his silent worry presses down, and I long to unravel the knot of his distress.

Steeling my courage, I reach for his hand where it rests upon the gearshift. “Carter?”

At the sound of my voice, he startles like a skittish hound. His wild eyes dart my way as if remembering I’m there, then quickly return to scanning the streets ahead.

I give his hand a gentle squeeze. “Talk to me. What’s bothering you?”

He sighs, long and heavy. “I have a feeling this is a trap.”

“A trap? What makes you think that?”

A muscle in his jaw ticks. “It’s too convenient. The clues leading you directly to Rococo’s? Someone wants you there, and I doubt for pleasant reasons.”

I sigh and lean back in my seat, pondering his words. “You may be right to worry. How about we march into Rococo’s and see what they have to say?”

Carter shoots me a sidelong glance. “Is that really wise, kitten? We do not know what they’re capable of.”

“Maybe not. But hiding in fear will solve nothing.” I take his hand again and meet his eyes. “I’m not afraid. Not with you by my side.”

A faint smile tugs at his lips. “Well, when you put it that way, how can I refuse?” He lifts my hand and brushes a tender kiss across my knuckles. “But promise me you’ll let me do the talking and stay close.”

Warmth blossoms in my chest at his gentle affection. As we turn down a snowy lane, lights emerge in the distance.

Rococo’s comes into view, a neon sign aglow against the night sky. He shifts the car into park and turns to face me. “Are you ready, kitten?”

I take a deep breath and nod. “As I’ll ever be.”

Carter gives my hand a reassuring squeeze before releasing it to exit the vehicle. I follow, breathing in the crisp night air. As we approach the entrance, Carter pauses and turns to me.

“Remember, stay close. We don’t know what may await inside.” His voice is calm, but his eyes betray his lingering unease. As we push open the heavy wooden door, a chorus of creaks and groans echo all around us. The inside of Rococo’s is even more dilapidated than its outer facade suggested.

As Carter and I step over the threshold, a musty gloom enshrouds us. Dust motes swirl in the shafts of moonlight cutting through boarded windows.

Broken bottles and tables littered the floor, remnants of Rococo’s former life. I trail my fingers along the peeling wallpaper, faded flowers now little more than ghosts imprinted on the paper. My touch stirs up dust devils that danced through the pale light.

Carter remains alert, guarding my back as we explore. A faint metallic clinking drew me toward the bar at the rear of the dining area. There, partially obscured by debris, a jukebox stood intact yet forlorn.

Though coated in grime, its color lights still gleam faintly, a beacon of color in the monochrome ruin. On a whim, I pressed a button at random. A gentle humming arose as gears turns within, grinding out music from days long forgotten. A familiar ethereal tune drifts into the gloom - Track 7, “Take Me Back to Eden” by Sleep Token.

The familiar song washes over me as I gaze at the jukebox, lost in memory. Carter’s gentle touch on my arm pulls me back to the present.

“Rena?” Concern laces his voice. I offer a sad smile of reassurance.

“I know this song. It was me and my sister’s favorite.” My eyes fall upon a worn leather diary resting atop the jukebox, half-hidden under a layer of dust. Gingerly, I brushed it away to reveal the faded insignia carved into its cover - three intertwining flowers, our family crest.

“This diary, it’s...” My voice caught in my throat. After so long wondering what had become of her, could the answers be contained within its pages? Beside me, Carter tenses, senses on high alert as I lift the diary’s front cover with trembling hands.

Before I could read further, a male’s laugh erupts from the shadows. Carter and I whirl around, his body tensing protectively before mine.

A lone figure emerges from the shadows, footsteps crunching over shattered glass. His pale blonde hair glows ghostly in the moonlight filtering through grime-stained windows. His angular features seem cruelly chiseled; lips curled in a mocking smile to reveal the glint of sharp fangs.

But his eyes catch my attention. They are like pools of honey, different from Carter’s and mine.

“Well, well. Fancy meeting you here, brother,” the stranger chuckles, advancing steadily. Carter’s grip on my wrist tightens.

“Cameron,” he growls. “What do you want?”

Cameron clucks his tongue chidingly. “Is that any way to greet family? I’m hurt, Car.”

Carter glowers at his brother; muscles coiled taut as a trap about to spring. “We are no family, Cam.”

Cameron stalks closer, predatory gaze fixating on me like a hawk sighting prey. “Now, now, is that any way to introduce me to your... guest?” His eyes flicker, alighting with dangerous amusement. “The pretty little kitten you’ve taken under your wing.”

I fume at his words yet hold my tongue, remembering Carter’s warning to let him speak. Carter steps between us, blocking Cameron’s view.

“So hostile. I merely wished to extend the courtesy of an invitation.” His smile sharpens. “Father requests your presence at the covenant gathering. An opportunity to rejoin your family, dear brother.”

Carter’s gaze hardens. “And why would I do that?”

Cameron clicks his tongue. “Pity. I was hoping it wouldn’t come to this.” From within his coat, he draws a gleaming pendant, dangling it tauntingly before Carter. “You know father won’t take no for an answer.”

Recognition flashes in Carter’s eyes. He takes an involuntary step forward, then catches himself - but not before Cameron saw. A wicked smile split his face.

“Give it back, Cam!” Carter growls through gritted teeth. “It does not belong to you.”

“Doesn’t it? You turned your back on the coven after Damien’s death. And now, here you are, without the faintest clue of the power this pendant holds, of what it means!” Cameron tosses the pendant up with a sneer. “Come and get it then, little brother.”

In a blur of motion, Carter launches himself at Cameron with a ferocious snarl. They crash to the floor in a tangle of limbs, claws and fangs flashing as they grapple for dominance.

I step forward to help Carter, but I pause, scanning for a weapon. My eyes fall on a broken table leg amidst the debris. I snatch it up and charge towards Cameron.

“Carter, duck!”

He rolls aside just as I swing the makeshift club at Cameron’s head. It connects with a sickening crunch. Cameron howls in fury and pain, his attention shifting from Carter to me.

“You insipid little dhampir!” He spit out a mouthful of black blood.

“Rena! Are you out of your mind?”

“Sorry, I need to help you,” I pant, adrenaline coursing through my veins as I stand ready to defend us both against Cameron’s wrath. The broken table leg felt surprisingly sturdy in my hands, a makeshift weapon in our fight against the devious vampire.

As Cameron’s furious gaze locks onto me, his lips pull back into a snarl, revealing his elongated fangs glistening with malice. But before he could lunge at me, deep shouts reverberated through the dilapidated bar, freezing us all in place.

“Come out now, we know you are here, bloodsuckers!” The commanding tone sent shivers down our spines, making even Cameron pause in his advance towards me. Carter seizes the opportunity, snatching up the pendant from where it lay on the filthy floor.

“We need to leave, now!” Carter grabs my arm. Cameron let out an enraged howl as we turn and retreat towards the exit.

We burst through the creaking doors of Rococo’s into the frigid night. My breath came in white clouds before me as I glance back to see if Cameron pursued. To my relief, he remained inside, but only for the moment.

Carter pulls me towards his car, urgency radiating from every fiber of his being. He stumbles slightly, a grimace crossing his face as he clutches his stomach. Blood seeping through his fingers, staining his shirt a dark crimson.

“Drive!” he gasps, his voice strains. “I can’t... he got me... dagger’s... in my stomach.”

My heart lurches at his words, fear gnawing at my insides. I nod quickly, helping him into the passenger seat before sliding behind the wheel. Ignoring the tremble in my hands, I start the car and peeled out of the desolate parking lot, tires screeching on the asphalt.

Carter’s breath came in ragged gasps next to me, his face ashen with pain. I steal a glance at him, the worry clears in his eyes. “Rena, we need to find somewhere to lie low until dawn.”

My hands gripping the steering wheel tightly as I navigate through the dark, icy streets towards the looming silhouette of the church. The building stands tall and imposing, its stone façade giving off an aura of ancient protection.

As we pull up to the entrance, Carter winces, his hand clutching his stomach, where blood continued to ooze through his fingers. I help him out of the car and guide him inside the church, the heavy wooden doors creaking open to reveal a dimly lit interior.

The scent of incense and old wood envelopes us as we make our way down the aisle towards the altar. Carter’s steps becoming unsteady, but his gaze remains sharp as he scanned our surroundings for any signs of danger.

“Rena, help me to the altar,” Carter winces, each step causing him visible agony. I slid under his arm, supporting his weight as we reach the stone platform. He sank to his knees, sweat beading his forehead as he grips the dagger’s hilt protruding from his abdomen.

“Holy hell, Carter, we need to get that out of you,” I murmur, panic tightening my chest. He nods, his breaths coming in shallow gasps as I sought something, anything, to use as a makeshift medical kit. My gaze falls upon a wooden cabinet nestled in a shadowed alcove. I rush to it, grateful to find an assortment of clean bandages and antiseptic.

Returning to Carter’s side, I set to work, his labored voice guiding me through the hasty process of cleaning and bandaging the wound. With shaking hands, I extract the dagger, Carter biting back a gruff cry as blood pours from the wound.

A surge of heat races through me as my eyes shamelessly follow the contours of his chiseled abdomen, slick with blood and sweat. It’s impossible not to become ensnared in the maze of his muscles.

As I wrap the last bandage securely around his torso, Carter sighs with relief, leaning back against the altar for support.

“Thank you, Rena,” his voice thick with pain. “You saved my life.”

I place a comforting hand on his leg. “Try not to speak. You need to conserve your strength.”

Carter closing his eyes as he regulates his breathing. We sit in silence as the minutes pass, the only sounds our blending breaths and the faint ticking of a clock from the shadows.

“Rena, stay close to me,” Carter murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper.

As exhaustion swept over us like a heavy blanket, I snuggle closer to him, seeking solace in his warmth and the steady rise and fall of his chest.

The events of the night weigh heavily on my mind, but in this quiet moment, the only thing that mattered was Carter’s presence beside me.

The soft light filtering through stain glass windows painted patterns of colored light on the ancient stone floor, casting a serene glow over us.

The scent of incense lingered in the air, mixing with the metallic tang of blood, a potent reminder of the dangers we face as vampires in a world fraught with peril.

“Carter, what will we do now?” I ask, the words slipping out before I could stop them. His hand finds mine, fingers intertwining in a comforting gesture.

“We will rest here for now. We’ll leave first thing in the morning.”

His gaze flickers with concern underlying his stoic facade. The events of the night have taken their toll on both of us, and the sanctuary of the church offers a temporary respite from the dangers lurking in the shadows.

As we settle in the dimly lit church, the flickering candles casting dancing shadows on the stone walls, a sense of calm washes over me. Carter’s presence beside me is a balm to my frayed nerves, his steady breathing a comforting cadence in the quietude of the sacred space.

I lean against the stone altar, my eyes drifting shut as exhaustion weighs heavy on my limbs. The adrenaline of the confrontation with Cameron ebbs away, leaving behind a bone-deep weariness that demands rest.