The safe house sat at the edge of a deserted industrial park, a squat brick building with boarded-up windows and a heavy steel door. Travis parked the car a short distance away, fog curling around the tires like a ghost.
"Charming," I muttered, stepping out, boots crunching on gravel. "You said Selene and Darius would be thrilled to see us."
Travis shot me a grin. "Thrilled, yes. But let's face it—welcome parties are overrated."
I rolled my eyes, though the tension in my shoulders eased slightly. Finally, a chance to breathe. To regroup. To feel human for a moment, even if danger was never far away.
Selene greeted us at the door, silver hair catching what little light the streetlamps offered. Darius lingered behind her, arms crossed, expression unreadable but tense.
"You made it," Selene said, voice measured. "Barely. Hunters were close."
Travis winked. "Barely counts as victory in my book."
I smirked despite myself. "You're impossible."
Selene gave a small, sharp smile. "Take a seat. We need to talk."
Inside, the air was warmer but heavy with the scent of damp stone and old wood. Maps, notes, and scattered objects covered a large table. Selene gestured to a chair, and I sat, chest still hammering from the escape. Travis leaned against the table casually, one hand on my chair, the other strumming softly on his guitar. The soft music seemed absurdly comforting after the adrenaline storm of the alley chase.
Darius spread out maps and scribbled notes. "Hunters are increasing patrols," he said, voice low. "We've confirmed multiple cells moving toward your route."
Selene added, "And the rumors are true. They've been developing a weapon capable of killing vampires. Prototypes have been tested on others. The reports are… grim."
I swallowed, pulse spiking. "Prototypes? On… vampires? That's…"
"Deadly," Darius finished for me. "If it works as they intend, no one will survive."
Travis rubbed the back of his neck. "Well… on the plus side, dramatic survival skills? Check. Humor? Check. Handsome, blonde, charming guy? Check. So… we still have some edge, right?"
I shot him a glare, but a small laugh escaped me. Even in the face of potential annihilation, he managed to lighten the mood.
Selene didn't look amused. "This isn't a joke. You need to be prepared. There's no room for mistakes."
I nodded, the weight of reality pressing down. Yet Travis's hand brushed mine beneath the table, a small, grounding contact that reminded me we weren't just survivors—we were together.
Hours passed in strategy and planning. Maps marked with hunter patrols, notes detailing rumored weapon tests, and suggestions for new escape routes filled the table. Travis leaned close, whispering jokes and teasing comments under his breath, eliciting nervous chuckles from me. Humor had become a lifeline—a way to cope with the relentless danger pressing in.
When the discussion paused, he pulled me aside into a quiet corner of the house. The dim light highlighted his pale features, his eyes softening. "You know… I hate seeing you like this," he murmured, brushing a strand of hair from my cheek.
"Like what?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
"Scared. Always scanning, always tense. I want you to feel… something else for a moment."
Before I could respond, he pressed his lips to mine, slow and deliberate. The kiss was gentle but full of heat, a stolen moment of intimacy in a world that had offered us little safety. My hands tangled in his hair, body pressing against his, every nerve ending alive with sensation.
We broke apart briefly, breath ragged. "We shouldn't…" I whispered, voice trembling.
Travis smirked, brushing his thumb across my cheek. "And yet… here we are. Alive. Together. That counts for something."
I let myself savor the closeness, the warmth, the fleeting escape from fear. Every touch, every glance, every whispered laugh strengthened the bond between us—a tether that felt as essential as air.
Suddenly, a sharp metallic sound echoed from the front door—subtle, deliberate, chilling. My stomach dropped.
"Hunters," Travis whispered, eyes narrowing. "They found us."
I grabbed my knife instinctively, heart hammering. "How did they…? We thought this was safe."
Selene's voice came from the other room, tight and urgent. "They tracked the car. You weren't careful enough. They know your scent now. They're close."
Travis pressed a hand to my back, steadying me. "Stay calm. We improvise. We escape. Together."
I swallowed, clinging to him, and for a moment, the intimacy of earlier lingered, grounding me even as panic surged. Hunters were at the threshold, and our survival now depended on every decision, every move, every second.
The sound of footsteps on the stairs made my heart leap. The hunter's voice, low and deliberate, called out: "Silver. Travis. We know you're here."
Travis's grip on my hand tightened. "Not yet. Not today."
I felt the pull of fear, adrenaline, and desire for him intertwine—a dangerous cocktail, but one that made us sharper, faster, more alive.
He leaned close, whispering, "Whatever happens… stay with me. Don't let go."
I nodded, heart pounding, breath short. "Never."
And then, the lights in the safe house flickered, plunging us into darkness. The hunters were inside, and for the first time, it felt like they might not let us leave.