Moments ago...
The tavern's upper room was cloaked in shadows, the flickering light of a single candle barely pushing back the darkness. The air was thick with the scent of old wood, spilled wine, and faint traces of blood-a scent that Phoenix, a male vampire of sharp wit and ruthless ambitions, found faintly comforting. He lounged in a creaking chair, his long legs stretched out before him, a predator at rest but not at ease.
Across from him stood Esme, a harlot known as much for her sharp tongue as for her services. Draped in a black corset that barely clung to her curves, she was equal parts allure and cunning. She tilted her head slightly, her black hair spilling over her bare shoulders to expose the pale expanse of her neck-a silent, familiar invitation.
"You're distracted." She said, her voice a sultry drawl. She stepped closer, her heels clicking on the wooden floor. "What's occupying that sharp mind of yours? Or rather, is it someone?"
Phoenix's crimson gaze was lifted lazily to meet hers, but there was a simmering intensity beneath his detached demeanour. "Since when have my thoughts been your concern, Esme?" He said, his voice smooth but carrying an edge.
Esme smirked, unbothered by his sharpness. "Since you started feeding from me more often than usual." She teased. "What's changed, hmm? Who's caught your eye?"
Phoenix didn't answer immediately. Instead, he rose from the chair, moving toward her with the fluid grace of a predator. He was inhumanly beautiful, his dark suit pristine even in the ramshackle tavern, and his presence seemed to fill the small room. Esme tilted her head further, baring her neck as he stopped in front of her.
He leaned in slowly, his lips brushing agains her skin. "You talk too much." He murmured, before sinking his fangs into her throat.
Esme gasped softly, her hands gripping his shoulders as the sharp pain of his bite gave way to the heady rush of his feeding. Phoenix drank deeply, the warm, coppery taste of her blood grounding him in the present even as his mind churned with plans and possibilities.
After a long moment, he withdrew, his tongue sweeping over the small puncture wounds to seal them. Esme sagged slightly against him, her breathing uneven, a blissful haze in her eyes.
"You're brooding, Phoenix." She said, her voice softer now, almost teasing. "And it's about her, isn't it?"
Phoenix's hand tightened on her waist, his jaw clenching. He turned away, stepping back toward the window to gaze out at the moonlit street below. "If you know so much." He said coldly. "Then tell me: what do you think?"
Esme perched on the edge of the bed, watching him with a sharp, feline smile. "I think you've tangled yourself up in something messy. A human girl, no less." She laughed softly, shaking her head. "A little bird also told me that she's carrying something powerful-an amulet of sorts?"
Phoenix's eyes flicked toward her, his expression hardening. "Careful, Esme." He warned.
She held up her hand in mock surrender. "Relax, darling. I'm not about to make a play for it. But you? You've got plans for her, don't you? Plans that don't involve her clinging to the prince like some lovesick fool."
Phoenix's gaze returned to the window, his reflection barely visible in the warped glass. "She's wasting her time on him." He said, his voice low and bitter. "She doesn't see him for what he is-a self-righteous hypocrite who will destroy her the moment she becomes inconvenient."
"And you think you're any better?" Esme asked, arching a brow.
Phoenix turned back to her, his expression sharp. "I don't pretend to be better. But at least I'm honest about what I am. He'll use her, just as everyone else will, and she'll end up broken or dead. Unless I intervene."
Esme leaned back, studying him with open curiosity. "So, what's your plan? You're not exactly the warm, comforting type, Phoenix. How do you plan to win her over?"
Phoenix's lips curled into a faint smile, cold and calculating. "I don't need to win her over." He said. "I just need to make her doubt him. Once the cracks in their perfect little bond start to show, she'll realise that she can't trust him. And when that happens, she'll have no choice but to turn to me."
"And when she does?" Esme asked, her voice dropping to a whisper. "What then?"
Phoenix's gaze darkened, his smile fading. "She'll see the truth." He said. "That I'm the only one who can protect her. That I'm the only one who understands her pain."
"And the amulet?" Esme pressed. "What happens to her once you have it?"
Phoenix hesitated, his expression unreadable. "The amulet isn't something I can wield myself." He admitted. "But with her...with her power and my guidance, there's no limit to what we could achieve."
Esme smirked, shaking her head. "You're lying to yourself, Phoenix." She said softly. "You care about her more than you're willing to admit. This isn't just about power, is it?"
Phoenix's jaw tightened, his crimson eyes flashing. "It doesn't matter." He said sharply. "What matters is keeping her away from him-and ensuring that the amulet doesn't fall into the wrong hands."
Esme rose from the bed, walking toward him with deliberate slowness. She placed a hand on his chest, her touch light but grounding. "You're playing a dangerous game, darling." She said. "And if you're not careful, you might end up losing more than you're willing to give."
Phoenix didn't respond, his gaze was fixed on the window once more. In the silence that followed, Esme studied him, a flicker of something like pity crossing her face.
As he slipped out of the room, Phoenix allowed himself a single moment of vulnerability. He closed his eyes, exhaling softly, the weight of his plans pressing heavily on his shoulders.
Because deep down, he knew Esme was right. This wasn't just about the amulet. It never had been.