The fog thickened as we pulled off the road, tires crunching over wet gravel. Travis kept one hand on the wheel, the other brushing damp strands of hair from his eyes. I could feel the tension in him—the same way I felt it in myself. Hunters were getting bolder, and instinct told me we were running out of time.
"We need eyes and ears," I muttered. "We can't keep flying blind forever."
Travis shot me a sideways grin, pale eyes glinting. "I suppose that means visiting friends, then. Friends with fangs. And maybe a flair for dramatic entrances."
I groaned. "You always make it sound so casual."
"Casual is my specialty," he said, shrugging, then gave a playful wink. "Besides, they owe me favors. And we could use a little… backup."
We followed a narrow, winding road until we reached a rundown warehouse that looked abandoned to any human eye. The fog wrapped around it like a blanket, hiding it from the street. Travis parked behind a stack of crates, and we slipped inside, moving quietly.
Inside, the air was heavy with the scent of damp wood and old stone, but it also carried the faint, unmistakable perfume of vampires. Two of them emerged from the shadows—a tall woman with striking silver hair and piercing amber eyes, and a shorter man with dark hair, his grin sharp and knowing.
"Travis," the woman said, her voice smooth, almost musical. "You bring company?"
"Only the dramatic kind," he replied, leaning casually against a beam. "And slightly dangerous."
I crossed my arms, instinctively protective. "Slightly dangerous is a generous term," I muttered.
The man laughed, dark and warm. "She's got spirit. I like her already."
Travis rolled his eyes. "Flattery will only get you so far, buddy."
The woman studied me with a calculating gaze. "Hunters?" she asked. "You're being followed."
I nodded. "Yes. They're more organized than ever. They know patterns, strategies… they're adapting fast."
The man stepped closer, expression grave. "It's worse than that. Rumors have been circulating."
Travis raised an eyebrow. "Rumors? I hate rumors."
"They're testing something," the woman said, her tone deadly serious. "A weapon. One that could wipe us out… all of us. Effortlessly."
My stomach dropped. "Effortlessly? That's not just a threat—that's an apocalypse."
The man nodded. "Hunters are smart, patient. They've been building it for years. They're not just after you, Silver. They're after every vampire. And Travis, they'll stop at nothing."
Travis's grin faltered for a heartbeat. "Well, that escalated quickly."
I felt a cold knot tighten in my chest. Hunters were always dangerous, but a weapon capable of ending us? That was a whole new level. My mind raced, trying to calculate the possibilities, the strategies.
The woman—named Selene, as Travis introduced us—gave me a measured look. "You'll need more than running to survive. Allies. Plans. Information. And trust."
Travis leaned in, whispering with that irritating smirk of his: "See? I told you, dramatic princess, you can't just wander the world like it's a foggy Sunday stroll."
I shoved him lightly, though my heart wasn't in it. "Not helping."
"Helping with morale," he countered, voice low, close enough that my pulse quickened.
Selene and the other vampire, named Darius, showed us maps, safe houses, and reports of hunter movements. Every note, every scrap of information made the stakes painfully clear: the hunters were methodical, growing more organized, and their weapon—if the rumors were true—was terrifyingly efficient.
"Your escape routes are predictable," Selene said, pointing at the maps. "You need new strategies. Routes they wouldn't expect."
Darius chimed in, voice gruff but practical. "And allies who can fight. You're fast, strong—but you're only two. They have numbers. Weapons. Resources."
Travis leaned over, his arm brushing mine, a small, comforting weight in the storm of information. "Sounds fun. Want to be part of my impromptu team?" he whispered with a grin that made my pulse catch.
I glanced at him, and for a moment, humor softened the dread. "If you promise not to get us killed immediately," I murmured.
"Promise… maybe," he said, eyes twinkling. "But dramatic flair is non-negotiable."
Selene gave a small, sharp smile. "You two are… something. Use it wisely. You'll need every edge, every distraction."
Travis leaned back, stretching his arms, and glanced at me. "Edge? You mean me?"
I rolled my eyes, but the tension between us eased just slightly. We laughed together, small and fragile, but it reminded me that even in the looming shadow of annihilation, we were alive, we were together, and we could still find small joys.
Darius pointed out safe houses in nearby towns, warning us of areas heavily patrolled by hunters. Each piece of information was a lifeline, a chance to stay one step ahead of the apocalypse lurking in the fog.
By the time we left the warehouse, the night had deepened, and the fog seemed even thicker. Hunters were out there, still closing in, still relentless. But now we had allies. Now we had knowledge. And Travis was by my side, pale eyes glinting in the mist, hands brushing mine when the fog pressed too close, a silent promise that he'd be there through whatever came next.
As we drove away, the rumor of the hunters' weapon hung over us like a storm cloud, heavy and impossible to ignore. Every shadow, every flicker of movement along the road reminded me that the world had changed. Survival would require more than instinct; it would require strategy, courage, and the kind of trust I had only just begun to feel with Travis.
He reached over, brushing wet strands of my hair from my face. "We'll be okay," he said softly.
I glanced at him, heart tightening. "We have to be."
And for the first time in a long while, I allowed myself to hope. Not just for survival, but for the bond we were building in the shadows. Humor, trust, intimacy—even as hunters tightened their grip on the world, we were alive. Together.