EPISODE 2
As soon as Lucita turned on the TV, the breaking news headline flashed on the screen, grabbing her attention. She settled into the couch, cradling her coffee cup in her hands, and listened intently to the anchor's solemn voice.
"A gruesome discovery was made in the woods last night when two woodcutters stumbled upon a dead body. The situation took a chilling turn when the FBI agents dispatched to secure the crime scene were brutally murdered by the killer, leaving only one survivor, Harrison Eliot, the leader of the Violent Crimes Team."
Lucita's eyes widened as she took a sip of her coffee, her brow furrowed in concern. "These killings are really getting scarier by the day," she commented, shaking her head.
The anchor continued, "According to Agent Eliot, the suspects were described as men wearing masks, and the woods have been deemed off-limits to joggers and woodcutters until further notice. A curfew has also been enforced, requiring everyone to be indoors by 7 pm tonight."
Dahlia, standing behind Lucita, listened intently to the report, her eyes fixed on the TV screen. She felt a shiver run down her spine as she recalled her own activities the previous day. While she had indeed had a few drinks with some acquaintances, she was certain she hadn't ventured near the woods or harmed anyone, let alone FBI agents. The whole story seemed like a far-fetched fabrication to her.
"I don't believe it," Dahlia muttered to herself, her mind racing with doubts and questions.
Lucita turned her attention away from the TV and focused on Dahlia, who was dressed in a classic 90s-inspired outfit - high-waisted palazzo jeans, a crop top, and a trendy jacket. Her hair was styled in a neat bun, and a tote bag hung casually over her shoulder. "Aren't you leaving for class?" Lucita asked, nodding towards the University of Kingston ID on Dahlia's neck.
Dahlia replied, "I'm about to," and headed out the door. As she stepped outside, a strong gust of wind hit her, followed by a torrential downpour. She sighed, her enthusiasm for attending class suddenly dwindling. Instead, she decided to visit Richard at the hospital to get some answers. She still didn't believe the vampire theory and thought it might be a digestive issue.
As she walked to the hospital, Dahlia sensed someone was following her. Every time she turned around, however, there was no one in sight. She decided to test her supposed vampire abilities and ran at incredible speed, hiding behind a kiosk. Peeking out, she spotted a man in black searching around, clearly looking for someone. Dahlia's anger flared, suspecting he might be the one responsible for her condition.
With her newfound speed, she rushed towards him, grabbed him, and pinned him to the wall behind the kiosk. Astonished by her own strength, she held him by the throat, her eyes blazing with a mix of fear and anger.
"Who are you?" Dahlia snarled, her fangs bared and her eyes blazing with a fierce intensity. The stranger wore a hoodie, casting a shadow over his face, but Dahlia's instincts screamed that he was a threat. She lunged at him, ready to strike, but he pushed her away with a force that sent her flying backward. She crashed into a nearby trash can, the sound echoing through the alley. By the time she recovered from the shock, the stranger had vanished into thin air.
Meanwhile, at the hospital, Lucita sat in Richard's office, concern etched on her face. "Are you saying Dahlia has been acting strange since she left the hospital?" Richard asked, his brow furrowed.
Lucita nodded. "Yeah, she's been acting really weird. She doesn't eat food anymore, and her eye color changes when she's annoyed. I've seen traces of blood in the house, sometimes on her body." She shuddered at the memory. "I'm thinking of finding a new apartment, I'm so worried about her."
Richard's expression turned grave. "Traces of blood? That's not normal. Do you think she's hurting herself?"
Lucita shook her head. "I don't think so, because there are never any injuries on her body. It's like she's...I don't know, feeding on something?"
Richard's eyes widened in alarm. "This is strange. I'll try to talk to her, see if she'll listen."
He stood up, his scrubs rustling. "I've got surgery now, but I'll come by your place later and see what's going on."
Lucita nodded, her eyes filled with gratitude. "Thanks, Richard. I really appreciate it."
As Richard hurried out of the office, Lucita waved goodbye, her mind racing with worries about Dahlia's strange behavior. Richard walked briskly, his hands buried deep in his pockets, his scrubs rustling with each step. He was lost in thought, his mind preoccupied with the peculiar conversation he had just had with Lucita. Suddenly, he stopped dead in his tracks, his eyes fixed on a familiar figure ascending the stairs two at a time. It was Dahlia, her long legs devouring the steps with grace and precision. She looked even more radiant than the last time he saw her, her hair pulled back into a sleek bun, her eyes gleaming with an otherworldly intensity.
Richard followed her, his footsteps echoing in the corridor. Dahlia had been searching for him everywhere, her frustration growing with each passing minute. Just as she was about to give up, she collided with someone, her eyes locking onto a familiar face.
"Hey Dahlia, watch it!" Richard exclaimed, his hands grasping her arms to steady her.
Dahlia's eyes widened in surprise. "Richard!" she exclaimed, her voice tinged with a mix of relief and annoyance.
"Why do you seem so surprised to see me?" Richard asked, his eyes crinkling at the corners.
Dahlia's expression turned sheepish. "I've been looking for you everywhere, and some nurses told me you weren't in, so I was surprised to see you here."
Richard's gaze softened. "Well, I went to see your friend Lucita," he said, his tone casual.
Dahlia's eyes narrowed slightly. "Lucita?" she repeated, her voice laced with a hint of suspicion.
Richard nodded, his eyes locked onto hers. "Yeah, I just wanted to say hi."
Dahlia's gaze lingered on his face, as if searching for something. "Oh! I see. I've gotta go now," she said abruptly, her eyes flashing with a hint of annoyance.
Richard's grip on her arms tightened. "But I thought you wanted to see me," he said, his voice tinged with disappointment.
Dahlia's smile was fleeting. "I've seen you now, and you have surgery," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "I'll let you get to it."
With that, she extricated herself from his grasp and walked away, leaving Richard standing there, his eyes following her retreating figure with a mixture of fascination and concern.
Dahlia's anger was seething, her mind racing with suspicions. Lucita's secretive visit to Richard's office had left her feeling betrayed and frustrated. The fact that Richard was tight-lipped about the reason only added fuel to the fire, and Dahlia's imagination was running wild with worst-case scenarios. She was convinced that the meeting was about her, and the lack of transparency was a personal attack.
Lucita's omission was a sharp stab, a perceived betrayal that cut deep. Dahlia felt like her trust had been violated, and her patience was wearing thin.
Dahlia burst into the house, her eyes blazing with anger. "What the fuck did you go to see Richard for?" she demanded, her voice low and menacing.
Lucita's eyes widened in surprise. "How did you know about that?" she asked, her voice laced with a hint of guilt.
Dahlia's expression turned sarcastic. "How did you know about that?" she mimicked, her voice dripping with disdain. "Spare me the shit and answer the darn question!"
Lucita hesitated, her eyes darting around the room. "Fine, I saw him because I wanted to say something to him," she said finally, her voice barely above a whisper.
Dahlia's eyes narrowed. "Say what nonsense to him? Tell me," she demanded, her voice rising in anger.
Lucita shrugged. "Why do I have to tell you what I discussed with him, huh? Why are you so interested in our business?"
Dahlia's laughter was mocking. "Our business?" she repeated, her voice heavy with sarcasm. "That's funny, 'cause last I checked, you've got nothing to do with him. Or maybe you're just trying to get him into your list of boyfriends. Figures, he has the job, the looks, and probably the right family, so you won't hesitate to jump on him, right?"
Lucita's face flushed with anger. "Exactly. So try and stop me!" she screamed, her voice echoing through the house. She turned on her heel and stormed out, leaving Dahlia seething with rage.
Dahlia's anger boiled over, and she kicked the table in the living room, sending objects crashing to the floor. She knew Lucita and Richard had made her the subject of their discussion, and that annoyed her the most. She had been going to him for medical advice on what was happening to her, but now she couldn't tell him anything anymore, as it seemed he and Lucita were in the same boat.
With a fierce cry, Dahlia continued her rampage, smashing objects and sending debris flying everywhere. Lucita stood outside the window, recording everything on her phone, a smug smile spreading across her face.
Dahlia's anger was uncontainable, her eyes blazing with a fierce intensity. She slammed her fist onto the table, shattering it into a hundred pieces. The sound of splintering wood and shattering glass echoed through the air, a stark contrast to the eerie silence that followed. Dahlia's thirst for blood was overwhelming, her body craving sustenance to quench the burning rage within.
Without a second thought, she burst out of the house at superhuman speed, leaving Lucita stunned and bewildered. "What did I just see? I must be seeing things!" Lucita thought to herself, her mind struggling to comprehend the impossible.
Meanwhile, Dahlia raced into a nearby convenience store, her sudden appearance startling the attendant. The bell above the door never rang, and the attendant wondered how she had entered without making a sound. "What can I do for you, Miss?" she asked, her voice trembling slightly as she approached Dahlia.
Dahlia's eyes locked onto the attendant's, her gaze piercing and hypnotic. Her eyes slowly turned blood red, her mouth opening to reveal razor-sharp fangs. The attendant froze in terror, her heart pounding in her chest. Dahlia's hunger was too great to resist, and she pounced on the attendant with a fierce growl.
Dahlia's fangs sank deep into the attendant's neck, her mouth filling with the warm, metallic taste of blood. She drank greedily, her throat burning with a fierce pleasure. The attendant's heart raced, her body trembling as Dahlia's grip tightened. The sound of her own heartbeat echoed in her ears, a rhythmic pounding that seemed to grow fainter with each passing moment.
As Dahlia fed, her senses came alive. She could feel the attendant's life force ebbing away, her energy and vitality flowing into Dahlia's own body. Her vision sharpened, her senses heightening as she drank in the sweet, intoxicating elixir. The world around her seemed to slow, her perception of time warping as she succumbed to the primal allure of the hunt.
The attendant's struggles grew weaker, her body limp and lifeless as Dahlia drained the last of her blood. With a final, lingering taste, Dahlia pulled away, her fangs retracting as she gazed upon the pale, drained face of her victim. The attendant's eyes stared back, empty and glassy, her skin deathly pale. Dahlia's gaze lingered, her thoughts clouded by the haze of bloodlust. She knew she had crossed a line, her hunger consuming her very soul.
With a snarl, Dahlia released the attendant's lifeless form, her gaze sweeping the store with a mixture of fear and paranoia. The CCTV cameras hung limp and still, their lenses pointed away from the grisly scene. The store was silent, the only sound the soft hum of the refrigeration units and the creaking of the old building.
Dahlia turned and fled, her superhuman speed carrying her out of the store in an instant. She vanished into the night, leaving behind a trail of death and destruction. The attendant's body slumped against the shelf, a pale and lifeless testament to Dahlia's unquenchable thirst.
Dahlia's mind reeled with the weight of her actions. She had taken a life, succumbed to the monster within her. The attendant's pale face haunted her, the memory of her lifeless body etched into her brain like a gruesome tattoo. She couldn't shake the feeling of culpability, the crushing guilt that threatened to consume her.
As she walked through the hospital corridors, her thoughts raced with the possibility that she was responsible for the string of murders in the woods. The doubt crept in like a chill, settling in the pit of her stomach. She knew it all began after the incident at the club, the night her life took a dark and sinister turn.
Richard was the only one who could provide answers, the only witness apart from Lucita. Dahlia's heart raced as she approached his office, her hand hesitating over the door handle. She took a deep breath, composing herself before knocking.
But before she could make contact, two voices drifted from the room, their conversation hushed but unmistakable. Lucita's tone was urgent, her words tinged with a sense of desperation. Dahlia's eyes narrowed, her mind racing with the implications. What were they discussing?
"I saw her behave like a crazy person today," Lucita said, her voice laced with concern.
"How exactly?" Richard asked, his curiosity piqued. Lucita handed him her phone, her eyes locked on his. "The contents might shock you," she warned.
Richard's eyes widened as he played the video, his face pale as he watched Dahlia's rampage. "What! What's gotten into her?" he exclaimed.
Lucita's expression was solemn. "I don't know, but I just came to show you this so you'd forget about ever meeting up with her." Her voice was laced with a hint of possessiveness, her eyes gleaming with a hidden agenda. "I care about you, Richard, and I need you to know that." The underlying message was clear: stay away from Dahlia, stay with me.
Dahlia's fists clenched outside the door, her anger simmering. Lucita was manipulating Richard, painting her as a monster. She couldn't let that stand. But Richard's words kept her frozen, unable to interrupt. "What do you mean by that?" Richard asked, his voice tinged with confusion.
Lucita's response was calculated. "I don't want you to get hurt thinking you can talk to her. She's beyond help." The implication was clear: Dahlia was a lost cause. "I'm going to be leaving that house and renting my own apartment soon," Lucita added, her voice husky. "You can come over if you want." The invitation was blatant, her intentions clear.
Richard's response was measured. "You're deviating from the course here, Lucita. Your friend could seriously need help, but you don't seem to care about that." His words were laced with a hint of disappointment. "What she needs right now is love and support from you and anyone around her."
Lucita's retort was sharp. "No, Richard. I think you're the one deviating from the course here." Her eyes flashed with defiance. "Yeah, I'm a bitch. That's what you're trying to say, right?"
"No, that's not it," he said, his voice low and husky, as if the words were dragged from the depths of his soul.
Lucita's eyes locked onto his, her gaze piercing. "I want you, Richard. I want to be with you. But I can't bear the thought of you getting entangled with Dahlia. She's slipping into the abyss, and I won't let you follow her."
Lucita's voice was a gentle breeze on a summer's day, but her words carried the weight of a sledgehammer. "I know your kind, Richard. Doctors, always thinking they can mend the broken, salvage the unsalvageable. But some souls are beyond repair. Dahlia's one of them. Don't waste your compassion on her, Richard. Save it for me. For us."
Richard's eyes narrowed, his mind racing with the implications. "What's wrong with you, Lucita?" he asked, his tone laced with skepticism.
Dahlia, having heard enough turned around to leave, her departure was marked only by the soft sound of her shoes marching away. Richard's eyes remained fixed on Lucita, his thoughts consumed by the turmoil that had been stirred up by her words.
"I think it's time for you to leave," Richard said finally, his voice firm.
Lucita's smile was a thin-lipped affair, her eyes glinting with a hint of triumph. "You must be busy, Richard. I'll leave you to your thoughts." And with that, she turned and walked away.
*
Dahlia sat in the dimly lit bar, surrounded by the stench of stale beer and broken dreams. She clutched her whiskey glass like a lifeline, the amber liquid swirling hypnotically as she stared into its depths. Her mind reeled with the events of the day, Lucita's betrayal and Richard's meddling festering like an open wound.
As she raised the glass to her lips for what felt like the hundredth time, her phone shattered the silence, its shrill ringtone piercing the air like a siren. Dahlia's gaze flickered to the screen, her heart sinking as she saw Richard's name flashing like a warning signal.
"How did he even get my number?" she wondered, her mind racing with paranoia.
She ignored the call, but Richard persisted, his phone calls coming in rapid succession like a drumbeat. Finally, Dahlia relented, her anger and frustration boiling over like a pot left unattended.
"What?" she spat, her voice laced with venom.
"Where are you right now?" Richard asked, his tone laced with concern.
"Lucita's not here," Dahlia replied, her sarcasm thick enough to cut with a knife.
"I want to talk to you, Dahlia, not Lucita," Richard said, his words dripping with sincerity.
Dahlia snorted, her laughter bitter. "What do you want to talk about? I have no business with you, so keep your shit to yourself!"
"Dahlia, please, I need to talk to you now. If I don't, I'll regret it forever," he said, his voice firm but urgent.
"What's this about? You want to know how to win Lucita over?" Dahlia asked, her tone sarcastic.
"Fine. She's into partying, being cruel, and betraying her friends. And she's a liar," Dahlia said, her words venomous.
"I didn't want to discuss Lucita. I want to talk about us," he said, his voice intense.
"So you believe what she said about me? That I'm unstable?" Dahlia's voice rose, her anger simmering.
"Yes, it's true. I'm a mess. What are you going to do about it?" she spat, her words hanging in the silence between them.
"Tell the cops you saw blood on my hands? Screw you!" she screamed, her voice piercing through the phone line.
Richard could sense her anger escalating, her words dripping with venom. He knew he had to remain calm, to be the voice of reason in the midst of her storm. "Please, Dahlia, that's not what I want to talk about," he lied, his tone smooth, conciliatory.
"Where are you? I'll come and see you," he offered, his words laced with a sincerity he deeply felt.
"Forget it, Richard," she spat, her voice like a razor's edge. "Before you get here, I'll already be gone." The line went dead, and Richard knew he'd lost her.
In a fit of rage, Dahlia slammed her fist into the glass cup in her hand, shattering it into a hundred razor-sharp shards. Blood gushed from the cut, and the bartender's eyes widened in horror. "Oh my God!" he exclaimed, rushing to her side.
Minutes later, Richard burst into the bar, his eyes scanning the room frantically until they landed on Dahlia. He rushed to her side, his face pale with worry. "Dahlia," he whispered, his voice trembling.
She looked up at him, her eyes blazing with anger, her face a mask of blood and glass. "Oh my God!" Richard exclaimed, his voice barely audible over the sound of his own heartbeat.
*
Dahlia's bloody hands had left streaks of crimson in her hair, and her face was smeared with it, like a macabre mask. Richard scanned the dimly lit bar, his eyes finally landing on her slumped figure, her head resting on the counter. As an ER doctor, he wasn't a specialist in mental health, but he knew he had to start with her, the only survivor of the mysterious attacks that had left a trail of dead bodies with bizarre bite marks.
He recalled the night Lucita brought her in, unconscious and battered. Dahlia had survived, but Richard knew time was running out. His brother had witnessed the murder of his partner, and another corpse would soon follow. He had to act fast.
"What happened to you?" Richard asked, his voice soft, as he reached for her hand. But Dahlia snatched it away, her bloody fingers leaving a smear on the counter.
"State your business and leave already!" she snapped, her eyes flashing with anger.
Richard hesitated, taken aback by her hostility. "You really need to disinfect that wound," he said, his concern evident.
But Dahlia's response was a fierce scream. "Shut it! I won't repeat myself, state your fucking business and leave!"
Richard sat down, his eyes scanning the table littered with empty bottles of alcohol. The stench of booze and blood hung heavy in the air, and he knew he had to tread carefully to unravel the truth behind the gruesome attacks. "Fine," he said, his voice even, "I'll get to the point."
"What are you doing to yourself, Dahlia?" Richard asked, his voice laced with concern. "Do you want to damage your liver?" He reached out to her, but she flinched, her eyes flashing with anger.
"Just state your business and leave, Richard," she spat, her voice venomous.
Richard's eyes locked onto hers, his gaze intense. "I want to know what's been going on with you, Dahlia. You're hiding something."
Dahlia's laughter was soft, mocking. "Liar," she whispered, her eyes glinting with malice. "You said you wouldn't ask about that."
Richard's face was a mask of confusion. "What do you mean?"
Dahlia's eyes narrowed. "If you're done here, you can leave." She stood up, but Richard held her hands fast, his grip warm.
As they sat there, frozen, Richard's eyes widened in shock. The cut on Dahlia's hand was healing before his very eyes, the wound closing with an unnatural speed. "What was that?" he breathed, his voice barely audible.
Dahlia's eyes blazed with anger as she yanked her hands free. She strode to the bartender, her movements swift and deadly. Richard sat, stunned, as she disappeared into the back of the bar.
When she returned, her eyes were blazing with a feral intensity. "You want to know what that was, Richard?" she asked, her voice low, menacing. "I'll tell you. I'm not human. I run faster than any mortal, my senses are heightened, and I have fangs and claws. And I drink blood."
"What do you call that, Richard?" Dahlia demanded, her eyes blazing with intensity. But Richard remained silent, his head bowed in stunned submission.
"Fuck this, Richard! Answer the damn question!" Dahlia exclaimed, her grip on his shirt tightening. "There must be a medical term for this... a virus or something."
Richard's voice was barely audible, a mere whisper. "Vampire."
Dahlia's eyes widened in disbelief. "You're a doctor, for crying out loud! How can you say that? Vampires don't exist!"
Richard's gaze met hers, his eyes filled with conviction. "You do, Dahlia. And I've been doing some research. I've seen the bodies, the bite marks... it all adds up. You're a vampire."
Dahlia's face contorted in anguish. "No, no, no! This can't be!"
Richard's voice was gentle, but firm. "I need to know, Dahlia. Have you been killing people recently?"
Dahlia's eyes flashed with defensiveness. "Just once, and it was an accident! But those other bodies... I didn't do it, Richard. I swear!"
Richard's expression was soft, reassuring. "I believe you, Dahlia. But I need you to trust me. Can you do that?"
Dahlia's voice was barely above a whisper. "Yes, Richard. I trust you."
A cold dread enveloped Dahlia as Richard's words hung in the air like a death sentence. She had delved into the world of vampires through books and the internet, but never imagined she'd become one herself. The shock was paralyzing, and her mind struggled to comprehend the monstrous transformation.
As the reality sank in, Dahlia's eyelids drooped, and she slumped forward, her head hitting the counter with a soft thud. Richard's gentle calls went unanswered, and he chuckled softly, lifting her into a bridal carry. He swept her out of the bar, the cool night air enveloping them like a shroud.
As he placed Dahlia in the passenger seat, a faint rustling sound made him spin around, but the darkness revealed nothing. Shrugging it off, he returned to the bar to free the bartender. But what he found in the storage room made his blood run cold.
The bartender lay ten feet away, eyes frozen in a permanent stare, blood pooling around his lifeless body. Richard's mind raced as he took in the scene. Dahlia hadn't killed him - her clothes were spotless when she emerged from the storage room. Someone else was involved, someone who didn't want to be seen.
"What the hell!" Richard exclaimed, his voice barely above a whisper. The darkness seemed to closing in around him, and he knew he had to get Dahlia to safety before it was too late.
Richard rushed out of the bar, his feet pounding the pavement as he made his way to the parking lot. He reached his car and found Dahlia sleeping peacefully, her chest rising and falling with each gentle breath. He let out a sigh of relief, his tense muscles relaxing.
As he turned to get into the driver's seat, he hesitated. He couldn't take Dahlia to her house - he didn't know where it was, and more importantly, he didn't want to risk running into Lucita. His mind made up, he decided to take her to his own home, hoping she wouldn't mind.
He drove through the night, the city lights blurring together as he navigated the familiar streets. Finally, he pulled into his driveway and carried Dahlia into his house, her body limp in his arms. As he climbed the stairs, a voice called out from the shadows.
"You're home," Harrison said, his tone lazy.
Richard's eyes adjusted to the dim light, and he saw his brother lounging on the couch, a sly grin spreading across his face.
"Yeah," Richard replied, his voice low.
Harrison's eyes flicked to Dahlia, and his grin widened. "Who's that? Your girlfriend?"
Richard knew Harrison's reputation as a womanizer, and he didn't want to leave Dahlia vulnerable to his roommate's advances. "Yes, she's my girlfriend, and I brought her home," he said firmly.
Harrison chuckled. "By tomorrow, we'll know if she's pretty." He winked and sauntered up the stairs to his room, leaving Richard to wonder what he had just gotten himself into.
By morning, Dahlia's eyes fluttered open, and she found herself in an unfamiliar king-sized bed, surrounded by plush pillows and a soft, velvety duvet. Panic set in as she scrambled to sit up, her heart racing. But as her gaze fell on the familiar face of Richard, emerging from the bathroom with a towel draped around his neck, her fear subsided. She remembered the events of the previous night and breathed a sigh of relief.
Richard's eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled. "You're up?" he asked, his voice gentle.
Dahlia nodded, her fingers tightening around the sheets as she pulled them closer. "Yeah," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper.
Richard nodded. "You can go shower. I bought some women's stuff yesterday, so feel free to use them." He gestured to a bag on the floor, filled with toiletries and towels.
Dahlia's eyes widened in gratitude. "Oh, thanks," she said, her voice a little stronger now.
Richard chuckled. "Don't mention it. Aren't you going to go shower?" he asked, his eyes sparkling with amusement.
Dahlia nodded hastily. "Yeah, right." She scrambled out of bed and hurried into the bathroom, shutting the door behind her. She took deep breaths, trying to calm her racing thoughts. "What kind of situation is this?" she muttered to herself.
"Take your time," Richard called out from the other side of the door, his voice reassuring.
Dahlia nodded, even though he couldn't see her. She turned on the shower, letting the warm water wash away her fears and doubts. As she stood under the spray, she realized that she was safe, at least for now. And that was all that mattered.
Dahlia remained in the bathroom for over an hour, long enough for Richard to wonder if she was trying to set a new record for the longest shower ever taken. He chuckled to himself, thinking that a woman in labor would have delivered a baby within that time. Little did he know, Dahlia was struggling with a different kind of labor - the labor of embarrassment. As a vampire, she wasn't sure if she could feel embarrassment, but her cheeks burned with shame as she thought about how she had fallen asleep in the bar and been carried out by Richard like a helpless damsel in distress. What if he was a pervert in a lab coat, she thought, her mind racing with worst-case scenarios?
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Dahlia emerged from the bathroom, looking stunning in a short red dress that accentuated her curves. Richard's eyes widened in appreciation as he turned away from his laptop. "Hey," she said, her voice husky.
"You look great in it," he replied, his eyes locked on hers.
Dahlia blushed, feeling a flutter in her chest. "Thanks," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I've gotta go now," she added, making a beeline for the door.
Richard's eyes narrowed, remembering the bet he had made with Harrison the previous night. He had practically made a deal with his brother that he would have Dahlia eating out of the palm of his hand by the end of the day. And now, with her looking like a goddess in red, he was determined to make good on that bet.
Dahlia's transformation into a vampire had elevated her beauty to breathtaking heights. Her porcelain skin now had a radiant glow, her eyes shone like diamonds, and her raven hair cascaded down her back like a waterfall of night. Richard knew Harrison's weakness for beautiful women, and he was determined to use Dahlia to get under his brother's skin.
"Don't go now," Richard said, his voice low and persuasive, as he pulled her down to the bed. "Stay for breakfast." He added, his eyes sparkling with mischief.
Dahlia raised an eyebrow, her full lips curling into a sly smile. "I can't eat anything except blood," she said, her voice husky. "Or are you offering?"
Richard chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "No way! I'm talking about real food here. Just pretend to eat, and then throw it away."
Dahlia's eyes narrowed, her gaze piercing. "Why?" she asked, her voice laced with skepticism.
Richard's face inches from hers, his voice took on a pleading tone. "Please, just do it."
Just then, Harrison burst into the room without knocking, his eyes scanning the scene before him. His gaze lingered on Dahlia, his expression a mix of surprise and envy. He thought only ugly patients or those on their deathbeds fell for doctors, not stunning creatures like Dahlia.
Richard's plan was working, and he knew it. Harrison was jealous, and he was determined to rub it in. "Breakfast is ready if you care," Harrison said gruffly, his eyes avoiding Dahlia's, before he turned and walked out of the room, leaving an awkward silence in his wake.
"Who was that?" Dahlia asked, her voice laced with disdain. "So rude."
Richard chuckled, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "That's my elder brother, Harrison. He's a bit of a grump, but he means well."
Dahlia raised an eyebrow, her gaze skeptical. "Well, he's nothing like you," she said, her voice softening.
Richard's smile grew wider, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Really? Then what am I like?" he asked, his voice teasing.
Dahlia's cheeks flushed, her eyes dropping to her feet. "Well, you're nice, polite, cute, handsome...," she trailed off, her voice barely above a whisper.
Richard's grin grew even wider, his eyes shining with delight. "And...?" he prompted, his voice coaxing.
Dahlia's eyes snapped up, her face flushing deeper. "And nothing," she said, her voice firm. "Forget everything I said," she added, her eyes pleading.
Richard's laughter was low and husky, his eyes still sparkling with amusement. "Really? I should forget that you called me cute and polite, huh?" he asked, his voice teasing.
Dahlia's face was a picture of exasperation, her eyes rolling heavenward. "Whatever, just get up," she said, her voice resigned, as she pulled him up from the bed.
As they stood up, Richard's eyes locked onto Dahlia's, and he realized that their banter was more than just a game. It was a delicate dance, a fragile balance between light and darkness, between life and death. And in that moment, he knew that he was ready to take the leap, to embrace the unknown, and to follow her into the shadows.