It began with a knock.

Not on the door. On the window. A soft tap-tap-tap that came just after midnight. I froze in bed, my heart thudding so hard it felt like it might shake my ribs loose. For a split second, I thought I was dreaming again.

But no. The sound came again. Tap. Tap. Tap.

I got up slowly and tiptoed toward the window. I was still in my oversized hoodie, sleeves swallowing my hands. Carefully, I pulled the curtain back.

Alexander was standing there. On the fire escape outside my second-floor apartment.

I jumped.

He raised his hands in peace. "Don’t scream," he mouthed.

I opened the window just a crack. "What are you doing? It’s after midnight. You could fall. Or get arrested."

He leaned closer, voice low and calm. "I needed to talk."

I hesitated, then stepped back. "Come in. Quickly."

He climbed in through the window like he’d done it a hundred times. No sound, no hesitation. Like a shadow folding itself into the room.

He looked around briefly. “Nice space.”

"Thanks," I said awkwardly. I crossed my arms and leaned against my desk. "What’s going on? Why are you really here?"

He paused, then met my eyes. "Because what happened in your dream… it wasn’t just a dream."

My throat tightened. “I figured. But how?”

He moved closer. "Some of us can sense when someone’s dreaming about us. Fewer can enter those dreams. Seth is one of them. He didn’t mean to scare you."

"Did you send him?"

He hesitated. "Not exactly. We knew the connection was forming. We just didn’t expect it to be so strong."

"What connection?"

"Between you and me."

The room spun for a second.

He continued. “You're different. And before you ask—I don’t mean that in a creepy ‘I watch you sleep’ way. I mean something in your blood, your energy. It’s like a magnet. It calls to us."

I swallowed. “So… what? You’re vampires?”

He looked amused. "That word’s a little heavy. We’re not immortal. We don’t sleep in coffins. We don’t sparkle. But yes—our kind feeds on energy. Sometimes blood. We live longer. Heal faster. Stronger senses. And we stay hidden. Always. Until now."

I stared at him. He didn’t flinch. He wasn’t joking.

"Why me?" I asked.

Alexander walked to my desk and picked up one of my sketches. A face—his. I’d drawn it without even meaning to.

"Because you saw me before you knew me," he said. "And that doesn’t happen. Not anymore."

The weight of his words sank in. My body buzzed with adrenaline.

"So what does this mean?" I whispered.

He placed the drawing down and turned to me. "It means we’re connected now. Whether we want to be or not."

Over the next few days, everything changed. And not subtly.

I started seeing things—movement in mirrors, shadows that didn’t belong, dreams that bled into waking life. My emotions felt dialled to eleven. Every sound was louder. Every scent stronger. It was like my senses had been flipped inside out.

Halley noticed first.

"You’re like... different," she said as we walked through Willistead Park. “Your energy’s off. But not in a bad way. Just... buzzing.”

I played it off. Said I was just stressed. But even Aiden made a comment.

"You look like you’ve been electrocuted. In a cool way."

I didn’t know what was happening. So I went back to the source.

I texted Alexander: We need to talk. Now.

He showed up an hour later. Not at the window this time. At the apartment’s front door.

We sat outside on the fire escape, away from the noise of downtown.

"I can’t shut it off," I told him. "Everything’s… heightened. I feel like I’m vibrating inside."

"That’s because your blood responded to ours," he said. "It’s rare. Usually takes a bite. But with you... It’s something else."

"So I’m turning into one of you?"

"No," he said. "But you’re in-between. You’re attuned. Which means you’ll see things others won’t. Hear things. Even feel when we’re close."

"Is that why I dream about you?"

He nodded.

"What happens now?"

Alexander was quiet for a long time. Then he said, "Now we protect you. Because once others sense what you are, they’ll want you."

My skin prickled. "Others? Like more of you?"

"Yes. And not all of them are as... restrained as we are."

He looked away, his voice barely above a whisper. "You need to be careful who you trust. Even among us."

That night, I stayed up until dawn writing in my journal. Trying to make sense of things. Trying to figure out if I should run, or stay, or scream.

I didn’t know what I was becoming. But I knew this: something had already begun.

And there was no going back.