It was sunset when I finally dragged myself back to the hotel. The key turned with a tired click, and I slipped inside, exhaling like I'd been holding my breath all day, which, considering the lodge's maze of secrets, wasn't too far off. Every revelation felt like another turn in a corridor that might just dump me into a dead end. Or a pit. Or worse, another meeting.
But nothing could have prepared me for what was already waiting in my room.
Nikolai.
He was sitting calmly by the window as if this were his suite and I was the intruder. My pulse spiked, my throat tightened. Of course it had to be him. The vampire who had waltzed into my life with a request I'd been foolish enough to accept.
He looked fierce yet unsettlingly graceful, all long limbs and sharp edges, like fire carved into a human shape. His skin caught the dim light with a ghostly glow, and those reddish, bloody, and luminous eyes had the kind of beauty that made you want to stare too long and regret it instantly. Serene and stern at once, like he'd already judged me guilty of something.
The room felt heavier with him in it, as though the walls had shrunk inward. Unease prickled along my skin, but beneath it was something else. A force I couldn't name, only feel. Dangerous, vast, and far beyond my comprehension.
"You!" I stammered, my voice wobbling somewhere between outrage and disbelief. "Why can't you just be invisible? What if someone sees you in here? That would ruin my reputation as a lady."
Nikolai rose from the chair with that infuriating grace of his, a glint of mischief in his eyes. "Apologies for startling you, Masha," he said, as if he'd merely borrowed my hairbrush. "But I thought waiting here would be more convenient than lurking in the shadows. Besides, " he stepped closer, "you see the unseen, so invisibility is more relative with you. And if your reputation is what troubles you most, perhaps you should worry less about me and more about your extracurricular practices."
With a flick of his hand, the door slammed shut behind me, rattling the hinges. I yelped before I could stop myself. Subtlety was apparently not in his skillset.
I blinked, still processing the reality of it: a vampire sitting in my hotel room as if it were a perfectly ordinary Tuesday. But after years of brushing elbows with the supernatural, part of me felt more exasperated than frightened.
Nikolai stayed standing, studying me with a look that suggested I'd interrupted something important.
Like his nap.
"I—I brought food," I blurted, thrusting a bag of bread at him like an awkward peace offering. "Thought you might be hungry."
His expression didn't shift, though I caught the tiniest flicker of amusement in his eyes. "I appreciate the sentiment, but I'm afraid bread won't sustain me. Or any human dish, for that matter."
I frowned. "It doesn't even have garlic. Or salt."
He tilted his head, tone almost patient. "That's not the issue. Vampires such as myself require a… particular sustenance. The blood of the living."
Ah. Of course. Blood. A perfectly casual dinner preference—if you happened to be undead. My stomach tightened despite my best effort to appear unfazed.
"Right. Blood. How could I forget?" I let out a short, nervous laugh. "Well, I hope you weren't expecting a donation. Perhaps try the rats in the alley. I hear they're plump this time of year."
Seeing my reaction, Nikolai chuckled softly. "I see you find the notion rather unsettling. Allow me to clarify. It is not about the taste. It is about the electromagnetic fluid contained within blood. To creatures such as myself, it is life's current."
I blinked, still wrestling with the unfamiliar idea. "So, in plain words, you require the blood of the living to endure?"
"Precisely."
A nervous laugh slipped out before I could stop it, sharp and ill-timed. "Well, I do hope you have your own supply. Somehow I doubt the local infirmary would welcome me queuing for a donation on your behalf."
His answering laugh startled me. It was soft, melodic, entirely out of place in a conversation about blood and survival. For a moment, the sound unsettled me more than the subject itself, as though I had glimpsed something human where there ought not to be.
As I set my meal on the table, curiosity itched at me again like a burr in my boot. Best to pluck it out before it drove me mad.
"Nikolai," I began, keeping my tone as casual as one can when speaking to a vampire, "can I ask you something?"
A muscle twitched at the corner of his lips, as if he was hesitant. "You may."
I folded my hands, gathering courage. "Have you ever been human? I mean, were you once mortal, before becoming what you are? Were you bitten, or cursed?"
For a fleeting instant, something stirred behind his eyes, like a memory long suppressed. He shook his head gently. "No. I was never human. My kind is born as we are. The belief that a vampire becomes such by bite alone is a common story, but not a truth I carry."
The words struck me. To never have known human life...what would that mean for one's soul?
"But then," I contained, "there must be different kinds of vampires?"
A shadow crossed his expression. "Indeed. Some are born, like myself. Others are made. There are those of my kind whose bite can pass on their nature, binding a human to their fate. Yet not all possess this ability." He paused, eyes settling on mine with a gravity that warned me not to pry further. "I do not."
I tilted my head slightly. "And the ones who are transformed, how does that happen?"
Nikolai's gaze grew suddenly distant, as if I had say something offensive. "That is knowledge better left to sorcerers. It is not a matter for you."
His hand flexed upon the table as though to steady himself, then he looked back at me with softened features, as if to draw a veil over the conversation.
I frowned at his sudden withdrawal, at the way he dismissed my curiosity as though I were still a child playing at herbs and charms. "I am not naïve, Nikolai," I said, with more bite than I intended. "I know what dark magic is. I am mature enough to understand."
He turned his eyes on me, that strange glow flickering within them, half amused and half threatening.
"Do you?" His voice lowered, as though the shadows themselves leaned closer. "Then listen carefully."
He paused, and for a moment I thought he might refuse again. Instead, he let his words fall like forbidden scripture. "The talisman I seek, the one stolen by an ancient human sorcerer, it is no ordinary object. It has the power to turn a non-vampire into one of my kind. The bearer will not only live long but carry strength beyond men, and a thirst for blood that gnaws forever. Such things are rare enough, but this talisman is unlike the others, for it was wrought from my realm, the fourth dimension, a place your kind cannot fathom, let alone see."
His revelation struck me like a chill wind, and I was silent, sifting through his words. At last, I whispered, "Then… the thief. He became a vampire? Is that why you believe he endures, because the talisman has preserved him?"
Nikolai's gaze sharpened. "Yes. You grasp the matter well. The thief is most likely alive, though centuries have passed. I can feel the talisman's pulse even now, faint but near. Yet I am not whole, not as I once was. His curse still clings to me, weakens me. But…" He leaned closer, his lips curving into a shadowed smile. "I am here. And I will not be easily defeated. Once you have led me to him, his fate is sealed. Brutal, if it must be. None dare trifle with the vampire king."
My breath caught, my jaw almost drop to the floor. "You… are a king?"
He hesitated, as though the word itself carried weight too dangerous to utter. At last, softly, "Yes. I am."
A thousand questions swirled in my mind, but one persisted harder than the rest.
"And how can you manifest yourself in the physical realm?" I asked at last. I remembered what Magnus had told me, that beings of the fourth dimension could only materialize for a fleeting time, depending on their strength.
"The talisman," he said quietly. "Its bond to me is strong enough to fasten my presence here. As long as it remains in this world, its energy roots me in the physical. I swore an oath that I would reclaim it before I ever returned to my own realm. That vow compels me to remain visible, even to ordinary mortals."
I felt the weight of his words sink in. The talisman wasn't just a trinket. It was his anchor, a keystone in ways I hadn't yet grasped.
"Remarkable," I murmured, though part of me still reeled at the enormity of it. "But why such need for an artifact?"
Nikolai's expression changed. The light faded from his face. "Because it is more than power. It is memory. It is loss."
His eyes turned away from mine, as though the past pressed too heavy to face directly. "I gave it once, long ago, as a gift. To my wife. She swallowed it, and it changed her, made her one of the blood drinkers, so that we might walk the same path together. I was looking for a way to make her stay with me, in my kingdom. This is impossible, for no human being could stay in our realm for long. But jealousy breeds cruelty. A sorcerer coveted what was hers. He struck her down and stole the talisman."
He looked at me once again, and I noticed sadness and anger in his eyes. "Your kind craves power but could not maintain it. How disgusting."
I drew in a breath. His sorrow lay bare between us, raw as an open wound. Suddenly, his relentless pursuit made sense. It was not hunger for power, but devotion.
No wonder he clung to it with such ferocity. Yet in the silence that followed, I could not forget: if a sorcerer had once bested him, even Nikolai was not untouchable.
"I see," I whispered.
We sat in silence for a while, the crackle of the fire the only sound between us. At last, his gaze softened, as though he had glimpsed the restless tide of thoughts within me, circling back always to the shadow of his wife.
"Masha," he murmured, his voice low, weighted with centuries, "my existence is woven of oaths and complexities you cannot yet grasp. I seek only what was stolen. Humanity errs in believing only the light to be sacred and the darkness to be abhorrent. Both are of the same fabric of the universe. By rejecting one half, your kind has made itself fragile. Ripe for deception and ruin."
I held his words, then asked carefully, "If you are of the fourth dimension, then why not traverse it at will? Would it not be simpler to return to your own realm and find the thief? Why do you want me to do it instead?"
A faint curve touched his mouth. "If only it were so simple. I am bound by an oath, an ancient law that forbids my return until the talisman is reclaimed. I have attempted the passage, but the gate rejects me. I may stay there for moments, no more. Until the oath is fulfilled, I remain here, in your world, the third dimension."
I broke a piece of bread, though my appetite was waning. "Then tell me this. What of the recent vampire attacks? They say such incidents are growing more frequent. Are these… your kind?"
He studied me, as though measuring how much truth I could bear. "No. Those are not of my bloodline. They are human vampires. Mortals who bartered their souls through sorcery in pursuit of immortality. Such transformations are quite imperfect… dangerous. There are others, too. Feral kinds, vampire beasts, not all bearing a human likeness. Even in my realm, the lesser ranks are dangerous. They lack control, they lack awareness. It is they who rend and devour without restraint."
I nodded, unsure of what to say next.
Then, Nikolai looked up at the wall, where a painting of fairies and nymphs frolicked in a meadow. "You see," he said, "even those lovely fairies can become vampires. One of the laws of the fourth dimension is balance. Energy must be maintained. If not, chaos seeps in, and the inhabitants turn into parasitic things. That is why you hear conflicting tales: fairies or sirens, innocent one moment, then suddenly drinking blood or tearing flesh. It is not contradiction, it is corruption." He gave a faint smile. "But I am full-born. For me, this state is not a curse. It is simply what I am. What you call a monster, we call the natural consequence of imbalance."
He shook his head as though amused at himself. "We do not name ourselves vampires. Our true word is not one your tongue can shape."
A chill threaded down my spine. No book of charms or folktales had ever spoken of such things. I busied myself with the last bite of my supper, though it might have been ash in my mouth.
"Thank you for sharing this with me," I managed at last, forcing a small smile.
Nikolai inclined his head, solemn as a priest. "I understand. The truth of our world can be heavy. But remember this. Knowledge is the only weapon you'll ever carry without needing to draw it."
His words lingered long after the room fell silent. In the dim glow of the lamps, his shadow stretched unnaturally against the wall, longer, darker, as though it belonged to some other shape entirely. I told myself it was a trick of the light. And yet, even as I turned away, I felt it watching me.