Rena

Rococo 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 turned 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... it was our song.” 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 caught my attention. They are like pools of honey, different from Carter’s and mine.

“Well, fancy meeting you here, brother,” the stranger chuckles, advancing steadily.

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

Cameron clicks his tongue. “Is that any way to greet family? I’m hurt, asshole.”

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, is that any way to introduce me to your... guest?” His eyes flicker, alighting with dangerous amusement. “This sexy little slut 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.”

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

Cameron sighs in annoyance.

“Ah-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 a fucking 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.

“You motherfucker, give it back!” 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 into the air with a sneer. It arcs above him before dropping neatly back into his hand. “Come and get it then, little brother.”

In a blur of motion, Cameron launches himself at Carter 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!”

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

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

“Rena! Are you out of your mind?!” Carter shouts, panic flashing across his face.

“I—I couldn’t stand there and let him hurt 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 growl as we turned and retreated 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 glanced 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 seeped through his fingers, staining his shirt a dark crimson.

“Just drive!” he gasps, his voice strains. “I can’t... he got me... daggers 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 started 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 is still clear in his eyes. “Rena, we need to find somewhere to hide until morning. I want to make sure we weren’t followed, so we don’t put Dahlia at risk.”

My hands gripping the steering wheel tightly as I navigate through the dark, icy streets towards a looming silhouette of a 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 continues 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 became unsteady, but his gaze remained 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 reached the stone platform. He sank to his knees, sweat beading his forehead as he grips the dagger’s hilt protruding from his abdomen.

“Oh-fuck, Carter! I 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 rush of heat courses through me as my gaze hungrily traces the sculpted lines of his abdomen, slick with sweat and streaked with blood. Every ridge and hollow draws me deeper, ensnaring me in the labyrinth of his muscles.

With careful hands, I secure the final bandage around his torso. Carter exhales, a tremor of tension rippling through him as he leans back against the altar for support.

“Rena, I need you,” he breathes, his voice barely more than a whisper, almost pleading.

With his head tilted back against the altar, his eyes roam over every inch of me, burning with an ominous red glow.