LOVE, LIKE BLOOD

It was the second time we had to move cities since my death.

I still remember the first time vividly. I was thirteen.

And no, that wasn't even the first time I'd actually died. Just... the first time it happened in public.

With too many eyes watching, too many witnesses.

A truck hit me. Brutal doesn't even begin to describe it.

Skull crushed. Bones disfigured. Limbs twisted in ways no one walks away from.

There was no story we could've told that anyone would've believed. No one survives that.

Although it was never hard to cook up survival stories since we always had our kind in hospitals, as doctors and nurses. They helped with cover-up stories and fake diagnoses.

I'd always thought that kind of cool...

I wasn't even taken to the hospital at the time, our people were the ones in charge of the ambulance that day.

They drove my mom and me straight to the House of Silence. Others had already been summoned for our farewell. My dad packed up everything we needed from the house, and by nightfall, we were gone.

There's always a House of Silence in every town we've lived in. It's what we call the abandoned homes our kind uses - for dark meetings, quiet arrivals, and final goodbyes. The name was passed down through generations, like a prayer whispered in the dark.

Always deep in the woods. Always empty.

To the human world, these houses were just ruins - haunted, forgotten, avoided.

To us, they were sacred. Untouched by time. Humming with ancient memories.

We've got a way of making everything look spooky on purpose. It keeps humans out.

Most people swear we don't exist. Others think we're myths - rare, extinct, maybe once real but now buried in folklore, long gone or ancient.

But the truth? We're everywhere.

In schools. At the grocery store. In your office. Behind the DJ booth at the club. Smiling at you from across a candlelit table at dinner.

Some of us are born. Some are turned.

But we're watching. Always have been.

After my first public death, we moved to New York.

For a while, it felt like I'd actually started living.

I never imagined I'd have to leave so soon.

I had finally made friends. I was well-liked, popular even.

One of the best female athletes in the entire school.

And honestly, why wouldn't I be?

I loved my friends. I trusted them.

There were even days I let myself believe I could open up to them, really open up.... about who I was. About what I was.

But I was wrong.

My mom had warned me never to make friends outside my kind.

I didn't listen.

I went against everything she said. I wanted to feel normal, to believe I wasn't that different from any other teenager.

"Humans have emotions that get them into trouble... they're too weak for the kind of feelings that take over their hearts," she would always tell me.

What would someone who hadn't lived a quarter of human life possibly know about their emotions?

I'd asked myself.

Unluckily for me, one of my closest friends - Olivia - had a boyfriend.

A charming, lying predator who flirted with me in secret, even tried to force himself on me.

My mistake? I didn't tell her.

I thought I could handle it without hurting her.

I loved her too much to break her heart with the truth.

But when I finally threatened to come clean, he beat me to it.

Twisted the whole story.

Created fake texts to make it look like I was the one chasing him.

Olivia confronted me in the chemistry lab that afternoon.

Top floor. Everyone else was at lunch.

We argued - voices low but sharp.

I would never put myself in a position to fight any of my friends.

We weren't the same. Not in strength. Not in nature.

But things escalated. We struggled.

Then she grabbed me - fingers tight around my neck beside the window.

And just when I decided to push her off, my elbow smashed through the glass... and I fell.

It wasn't fast.

That's the part people never understand about falling - how slow it can feel.

Like time stretches out just to let your thoughts catch up.

I died with the pain of knowing that it would be my last day in New York. The city I finally called home - gone, just like that.

I wasn't even awake for the journey.

By the time I opened my eyes, we were already in Ravenshollow.

A cold, gray town with skies that always looked like they were about to cry.

Thick forests were visible from every side, and the houses sat too still, like they were watching. Waiting.

Our kind liked places like this - hidden and quiet.

But to me, it felt like exile.

No noise. No excitement. No friends.

Just the sharp taste of betrayal still stuck in my mouth... and the lingering memory of Olivia's furious face at the chemistry lab.

I hated the idea of starting all over again. And the fact that it was going to be like this for the rest of my life made me wonder how I was going to keep up.

I had spent most of the first week in Ravenshollow, locked up in my room.

The only time I stepped downstairs was to grab snacks or a cold soda from the fridge.

Being an actual seventeen-year-old born vampire, one who had never tasted human blood, made me realize just how different I was from my parents... and from others like us.

I didn't have to lie about my age yet.

I still looked my age, still acted like a teenager.

And unlike most of our kind, I actually liked human food.

I craved chips, chocolate, and warm bread.

Not veins.

The hunger for blood, the real kind, had never touched me.

My parents never talked about it much, but I saw the way they looked at me sometimes.

Curious. Maybe even a little concerned. Like they were waiting for something inside me to switch on.

Like one day I'd just... snap.

But so far? Nothing.

No thirst. No visions. No cravings.

Just me, a girl in sweatpants, binge-watching horror movies that didn't scare me.

I wasn't normal-not by human standards, and not by vampire ones either. I was something... in between.

And that terrified me more than any stake-through-the-heart fairytale ever could.

That evening, I'd already heard my mom coming up the stairs before she knocked.

"Noah. I need to talk to you," she said from the other side of my door.

Yes, Noah.

Not Noaelia or Noelle. Just Noah-because mom said so.

I was six when I first asked her why she gave me a boy's name.

She'd brushed my hair back from my face, looked me straight in the eyes, and said.

"Because the world will already try to soften you. Your name shouldn't."

At the time, I didn't understand what she meant.

But now, I get it.

She wanted me sharp. Unforgettable.

She named me like a warning.

"Noah, are you in there?"

She was louder this time.

I opened the door and met her eyes.

I hadn't said much since we got here-not out of anger, but something worse.

Shame.

Shame for letting my guard down. For ignoring every warning she'd ever given me.

Mom had warned me countless times about human friends, how it always ends in blood.

And now? She was right - and I hated that.

"Do you need something?" I asked in almost a whisper.

"You can't lock yourself in there forever, sweetie," she said softly.

"Tomorrow's your first day at your new school."

The word SCHOOL stung like something sharp inside me.

Don't I get time to heal from what happened? Other kids will get therapy for something as brutal as that.

Although they wouldn't survive it, but..

"I need another week," I told her.

She narrowed her eyes.

"No... You need to get out of this room and walk around."

She reached for my hand and gently pulled me out of the doorway.

"Ravenshollow is a beautiful town. You should look around," she smiled. "I heard they make wonderful pasta downtown."

Pasta. Human food.

I thought.

She shouldn't care for that. Not even to please me.

Not when it reminded me of everything I'm not supposed to be.

You wanted to comfort me, but every time you've said things like that... it made me feel more like a mistake.

The tears came before I could stop them - sharp and hot, sliding down my cheeks like they belonged to someone weaker.

Why can't I just switch and feel nothing? Why is the feeling of betrayal still clinging to me like it just happened?

In that moment, I wanted nothing more than to be a real vampire.

Not this halfway thing.

The next morning, I didn't make an effort to even look good.

I mean, why would I try? I don't belong in this town.

After my usual morning warm bath, I threw on a plain sweatshirt and a pair of loose pants, then tied my hair up in a messy bun.

I stood facing the mirror.

The truth? I knew I could never really look bad, even if I tried.

My shiny, light brown hair, soft and wavy, didn't know what a bad hair day was. And my almost pale skin was flawless, smooth, always caught attention, whether I wanted it or not.

Took a quick glance at the Daylight Amulet hanging around my neck.

I'd worn it all my life-a gift and a warning.

Apparently, vampires can't survive the sun without it.

At least not the born ones like me - still bound by blood, not yet awakened enough to walk unprotected beneath the sky.

The amulet shimmered faintly, like it knew its importance. Like it enjoyed being the difference between burning alive and blending in.

Some of our kind refuse to wear one - call it weakness, only roam at night, or the moments just before sunrise.

Others say relying on an amulet means you're not ready. Not complete.

I didn't care. I liked the sun.

And I'm not ready to give it up just to prove something to people who thought their fangs made them wise.

The thought made me smile a little.

When I finished, Dad dropped me off in front of Ravenshollow High. I was never late for school, we didn't sleep, so there was never even a chance to be late.

He turned off the ignition and turned to me.

"You have everything you need?" He asked, his voice was always low.

I nodded.

His face looked like he wanted to say more, but Dad's never been much of a talker. That had always been Mom's job.

He was a listener-the kind who spoke more with his eyes than his mouth.

But he was a good dad. Loyal. Quietly dependable. He never once complained about moving towns because of me. He did what needed to be done for us.

"Thanks, Dad," I said softly.

He smiled and gave me a warm hug.

I stepped out of the car, and he drove off without another word.

I took a good look at the school building as I walked in; it looked decent.

The building looked clean. Red brick. Tall windows. Kind of ordinary.

But it made my stomach twist. My skin itched.

I didn't want to be there-I won't lie.

I had quite an urge to burn it down.

Unfamiliar faces threw glances at me as I walked. I didn't care to read their expressions-although I knew most of them felt intimidated by how good the new girl actually looked.

It made me smirk.

It was finally time for the usual introduction at the front of the classroom.

I've always found this shit fucking dumb.

I thought to myself.

The teacher smiled at me, too bright, too curious. "Come on. Introduce yourself,"

I hated the faces I was seeing. Hated that I wasn't standing in the front of my old classroom and that these weren't my old classmates.

It made me feel alone.

I cleared my throat. "Hi, I'm Noah."

For a second, silence.

Then the giggles and whispers started.

"Wait... Noah? That's a guy's name," someone said, not even trying to hide it.

They laughed because of my name.

Because I didn't fit into their stupid, predictable boxes.

"You're dumb for saying that," I snapped, voice sharp and bold.

The whispers increased, and the teacher gave a sign with her hand for them to stop.

Someone got up and spoke.

"Noah. The world will already try to soften you. Your name shouldn't," his voice, calm and clear.

At that moment, the world went silent,, and immediately I raised my head and met his eyes, I knew. He was one of us.

I didn't expect to meet one so fast.

He smiled at me and nodded. His blue eyes were beautiful and mysterious, they looked like they held something old behind them.

His skin was pale, but not sickly, and dark hair curled slightly over his forehead. And his jawline, sharp, defined, only made his smile more dangerous.

He looked like a vampire from an old Gothic painting. The kind that didn't just drink blood, but stole souls with a single glance.

And for a second, I couldn't look away.

The teacher wrapped up the awkward introduction and gestured toward an empty seat as she stepped out-of course, it was the seat just in front of him.

I walked to it without hesitation, but a flutter of nerves stirred in my chest. I made sure not to show it.

The moment I sat down, his voice followed, low and deliberate.

"Hey, you."

I turned slightly. "Hi," I said, keeping my tone flat. Uninterested.

"Beautiful amulet," he murmured, leaning in just enough for his breath to brush the back of my neck.

It sent a chill through me-one I wasn't expecting. Not fear. Something... else.

Before I could reply, he stretched his left hand forward, revealing a dark silver ring on his middle finger. A single deep-red gem sat in its center, like a quiet heartbeat.

"Mine was forged from the same stone," he said. "Daylight-resistant. Old magic."

I looked down at the ring, then at his face.

His face was calm, too calm. Like he already knew everything about me.

Then he said it.

"I won't betray you like they did."

My breath snagged in my throat, just slightly.

I narrowed my eyes. "You don't know anything about me."

He tilted his head, lips curving into a faint smile.

"Don't I?"

There was something in his voice-certainty. Like he wasn't guessing.

Although I'd never met one, I'd heard of some of us with the ability of reading people-their emotions, their intent, their lies.

The old ones called it 'Soul Sight'.

Mom had told me never to let my guard down, especially around one who could read.

"Once they're inside," she'd said, "they don't just see you. They own pieces of you."

I swallowed hard and shifted in my seat, forcing my thoughts to quiet, to blur. That's what she taught me-how to fog my mind, like a window in the rain.

"You're shielding," he said, leaning even closer from behind. "Smart. But exhausting, isn't it?"

I said nothing. Silence was safer.

"I heard there's a greeting at the House of Silence tonight," he added. "Been curious about the new arrivals."

Before I could respond-not that I intended to-the classroom door opened. A male teacher entered, cutting through the low chatter as the lecture began.

I assumed that would finally silence him.

Instead, he spoke again, quieter this time, like a secret only meant for me.

"I'm Sebastian. In case you were wondering."

I turned halfway in my seat just enough to look at him over my shoulder

I tried my best to sound firm.

"I wasn't," I said sharply. "Class is starting. Try pretending to be human."

Then I faced forward again.

He didn't reply, but I felt a smirk behind me.

That night, driving toward the House of Silence in my dad's car, I noticed parts of town I'd never seen before.

It was quietly beautiful-narrow streets lined with trees, old buildings worn out by years and weather.

The kind of place you could settle into without meaning to, and forget to leave.

I pressed my forehead to the window, watching reflections blur as we turned a corner.

"How much farther?" I asked, not really wanting to know the answer.

Dad's hands tightened slightly on the wheel. "Close," he said. "You'll feel it before you see it."

As we left the last curve of town, the road narrowed and trees began to close in. Their branches stretched forward, forming a kind of tunnel- one that led into deeper silence.

Up ahead, the path opened up into a quiet space surrounded by trees.

Several other cars were already parked around. No one inside. No engines running.

"They've already gone in," Dad said as he pulled our car into a space between two others.

Mom scanned the trees with focus as she stepped out.

"Stay close," she said. "No straying. The path isn't always where you think it is."

I slipped out of the back seat, my boots pressing into the damp ground and fallen leaves.

The air was colder here, the quiet thicker. Every sound felt like it echoed too far.

We didn't wait.

Without another word, we headed into the trees-

Swift and silent, moving like shadows that had always belonged there.

Then, I felt it before I saw it. A weight in the air. The kind of silence that listens.

The House of Silence emerged between the trees, carved from dark stone and timber, half-consumed by vines. It looked like it had been there forever, and yet it felt aware. Awake.

Mom slowed her pace, and Dad followed. Neither looked at me, but I felt the warning in their stillness.

"Don't speak unless you're spoken to," Dad said.

Mom glanced at me, her eyes sharp but steady. "And don't lie. They'll know."

I nodded once.

And then we stepped forward toward the entrance. Toward whatever waited inside.

The doors stood tall, carved with symbols I didn't know. They opened on their own, like the House had already felt us coming.

The air inside was colder.

Figures moved through the shadows. Some turned to look. Most didn't.

No one spoke.

I stayed close to Mom's side. Dad led the way, his steps were certain, unhurried.

Somewhere deep within the House, a bell chimed-low and slow.

The greeting had begun.

Suddenly, the torches along the walls ignited, their flames flickering to life. The sudden glow revealed the true scale of the room.

Vampires stood in small groups, their eyes reflecting the light like dark mirrors. Some wore masks, others showed faces pale as marble, all watching us with interest.

A figure stepped forward from the crowd-tall, with an elegance that felt both inviting and dangerous.

"Welcome to the House of Silence," he said, his voice smooth and low, carrying authority. "I'm Caucasian. You're expected."

I swallowed, knowing this was only the beginning.

After the basic introductions-names spoken like promises, nods exchanged like quiet challenges.

We were led deeper into the House, toward the second floor where The Regent awaited.

The title belonged to the oldest vampire in the district, not the one that looked it in appearance, but the one who had survived the longest.

We followed Cassian up the stairs, the house was old and dusty.

We passed rooms until he finally stopped outside a door.

"He's inside," he said.

Dad gave a short nod, and the door opened.

Inside the room was clean and bright-modern, like luxury had been allowed in, just to remind you who was in charge.

I figured the rest of the house had been left in darkness on purpose. Classic vampire theatrics.

The Regent stood at the end of the room, he was unmistakable. Tall, dressed in a perfectly tailored coat-formal but not old-fashioned.

Someone stood beside him. When they turned, recognition struck.

It was Sebastian-the one from school.

Of course. He hadn't just been curious earlier. He belonged here.

Dad stepped forward, respectful and unafraid.

"We seek protection under your district," he said.

The Regent's gaze shifted to him, then to each of us in turn.

Then, unexpectedly, he let out an amused laugh.

"Oh, come now, Alaric," he said, voice smooth with an accent worn by centuries. "Formality has its place, but this isn't the Dark Ages."

He stepped forward into the full light, expression relaxed but unreadable.

"I'm Gavriel," he said. "And this"-he gestured-"is my son, Sebastian."

Sebastian offered a polite nod.

The resemblance between them was unmistakable-they looked like brothers, separated only by a few years.

Gavriel's gaze returned to me.

"You're the one shielding," he said quietly. "Good instinct. But here, you won't keep much hidden."

Mom's and Dad's eyes widened in curiosity.

He smiled and turned to Sebastian.

"Go on, keep her company. I'll have a talk with the parents," he added.

Without hesitation, Sebastian took my hand, and we stepped out together.

His dangerous smile appeared.

"You're very young," he said. "Still your actual age."

I almost asked how he knew, then remembered, we could hear things from a distance. I just rarely used the ability. Most of the time, I forgot I even had it.

"How old are you?" I asked, keeping my face straight.

"Thirty-eight," he replied, his voice was slow and steady. "First time repeating High School. I'm a born vampire, like you."

He glanced ahead, then added, "Sometimes I wonder why the Regent decided to have a child after thousands of years."

I blinked. "He's your actual father?"

Sebastian nodded.

"He said he didn't believe in love until he met my mother."

A pause.

"She left after I was born. Said eternal youth wasn't worth putting up with an ancient husband." He gave a faint smile. "Guess she wasn't into sugar daddies."

I laughed-louder than I meant to. So did he.

We talked and laughed for over an hour, until the mood changed.

His eyes were fixed on me.

"Can I ask you two questions?" he said.

I hesitated.

I didn't want to answer, not without thinking it through. I had a habit of getting pulled in too easily by warmth, by attention that felt genuine.

I couldn't afford to mess up again.

Not like I did with Olivia.

I gave a small nod, cautious.

"The first," he said, "have you ever been in love?"

I scoffed.

"Really? That's your question?" I said with sarcasm."

He didn't flinch. His eyes stayed on me, calm and unwavering.

I dropped the sarcasm and straightened my expression. "Can't you just read me? You did it once, without my permission."

"I stopped the moment you started shielding. It was wrong that I ever did. I had no right to."

His face was unreadable, but his tone was serious.

I studied him, unsure if I believed that.

"What's the second question?" I asked.

He smiled, just a little. "Are you looking forward to your first blood feed?"

The question echoed in my ears, heavier than I had expected.

No one had asked me that, not even my parents.

I knew it would happen when I turned eighteen. It was part of the transition, part of what came next.

But I'd never really let myself picture it.

"I don't know," I said honestly. "I try not to think about it."

Sebastian nodded like he understood.

"You should. It's close," he said. "It's not just hunger. It changes things. The way you see. The way you feel. Who are you?"

I looked at him carefully.

"And you?" I asked. "What was it like for you?"

"Messy," he said quietly. "But worth it."