As soon as I passed through the empty parking lot, my eyes caught the familiar landmark: the rusted car trailer. Heart pounding, I hurried toward it, then plunged into the forest's depths. The cold, silvery light of the full moon filtered through the protruding branches, casting erratic, ghostly beams onto the untouched snow. Every step was a struggle; my legs sank into the thick powder, each movement slow and exhausting. Thin, icy branches scratched my bare skin, as if the forest itself tried to push me back, to make me turn, to make me give up. But I pressed on, forcing my fear aside. What could a single human hope to do against a real vampire? Especially alone.
I had no answer. All I could do was push forward, thinking of my father's face. My heart raced with a frantic, irregular rhythm, so intense that a vein throbbed at my temple. I scanned the darkness for the next landmark. The forest finally parted, revealing a small clearing where a lone stump gleamed with frozen droplets in the moonlight. My strength ebbed away, and the panic threatening to overwhelm me grew heavier with each breath.
I bent over, hands on my knees, inhaling deeply, counting the breaths like a prayer. I wasn't just trying to calm myself—I was trying to summon the courage to throw myself into the jaws of the beast. The thought that nothing good awaited me rooted itself firmly in my mind. Yet I had no choice. If I wanted to save my father, I had to keep moving. I had to find strength where there seemed to be none.
The cold gnawed at me, and for a brief moment, I considered retrieving a jacket from the trunk. But suspicion would arise, and I couldn't risk it. Shivering, I hugged myself and rubbed my arms furiously, trying to summon some warmth. Time was running out. I straightened, scanning the clearing for the next marker. Confused, my gaze fell upon the dense row of spruces to my right. There it was. I plunged into the tangle of branches. Each needle and twig cut my skin, each step scraped me raw, yet I pressed on, protecting my face with my hands, driven by desperation.
"Do you feel it?" Galina's voice slithered through the night. "The scent of blood… Our little bird is close."
My heart leapt into my throat. Finally, I emerged from the thicket—and froze. Face to face with the insane vampire, Galina's lips curled into a cruel, petty smile, revealing a perfect row of gleaming fangs. Her hair was wild, her carefully constructed mask faltering, revealing torment beneath. Even in the dim moonlight, dark circles under her eyes betrayed exhaustion, obsession, madness.
I scanned the clearing, trying to understand the layout in the silver shadows. The ground melted into darkness; only patches of snow offered contrast. Bones were nowhere to be seen. And then—another silhouette. My blood ran cold.
"Nik? What are you doing here—"
Galina moved in a blur, her palm clamping around my throat. Instantly, my feet left the ground, a buzzing filled my ears, and my lungs burned. I hung there, a limp rag in the grip of a predator. Instinctively, my hands clawed at her, but she didn't budge.
"Oh," she murmured, savoring the moment. "It's exquisite, holding someone else's life like this. The heart of a rabbit, racing at the sight of a predator…"
Her lips parted, tongue flicking as if tasting the idea of me. In her insane eyes, I glimpsed my own helpless reflection. Revulsion welled up, pure and scorching.
"Put her down," Nikita's voice cut through the tension, calm yet strange, almost otherworldly.
Galina grinned, releasing me so suddenly I collapsed onto the snow.
"As you wish," she murmured, her bare feet crunching softly on the frozen ground. "Sonny."
"Don't call me that!" Nikita snapped, anger flashing like a dagger.
I turned from him to the vampire, searching for some connection, some shared trace of humanity. And there it was—a chilling, cruel similarity. Fate's twisted hand revealed itself: Nikita had lured me to the pizzeria that day, handing me to this monstrous family. If not for the Smirnovs, I would have perished long ago in Galina's swift grasp. How many others had fallen prey to the same trap? Charming men delivering innocent girls into the clutches of bloodthirsty predators…
Rage burned hotter with every thought. A wolf in sheep's clothing. Every word of love, a lie. Every tender gesture, a trap. And the cruelest part? They didn't simply hunt and let go—they tangled me tighter, forcing guilt and despair upon me. Even breaking up over the phone had been a manipulation, a lure. And now Tanya could be next. Fury coiled like a serpent in my chest.
"Where's my father?" I demanded, voice shaking but loud. Anger made the cold irrelevant—a minor nuisance. My body trembled not from frost but from the heat of fury. If only I had the strength, I would strike Galina right now. But I had to save my energy; the battle wasn't yet over.
"Where is he?" I shouted again. Galina's face, reveling in cruelty, contrasted sharply with Nikita's terrifyingly tender, protective gaze. No. I would not be fooled.
"His bones are not here."
"If he's not here," I said, stepping back toward the fir trees, "then I have no reason to be here either."
I turned my back—and immediately, Galina blocked me. In the moonlight, her eyes glowed red, hellfire burning within.
"Here he's not. But wherever you go, your father won't be there unless I allow it. An eye for an eye, darling." Her hand rose toward me, and I flinched—but the forest barrier behind me left me trapped.
Startled, I spun—and Nikita was there, impossibly close.
"Get away!" I barked, shoving him, but he didn't move. Desperate, my hand shot up to strike—but before it could land, he caught my wrist. His look was gentle, almost pleading, but I only sensed the trap. Every instinct screamed: escape, run. This had been a mistake. A fatal, emotional mistake.
"Asya, calm down."
I laughed, a wild, bitter sound.
"Do you think I'm stupid? Do you think I didn't see what was happening when I saw you together? The good son helping his mother hunt, leading naive girls into a trap. Delivering them like offerings at the cost of a single click! That's how it works, right?"
Tears streamed down my face, hot against the freezing air. My skin burned, yet I couldn't stop.
"How many girls like me? How many have you led to slaughter? Do you even have a heart? Or is humanity something vampires are born without?"