She hangs up.
Three calls. Three allies. Three vampires who owe me debts or share my enemies.
It might not be enough.
While I was accumulating wealth, Damien could have been honing his skills, planning for this kind of confrontation.
The weight of it all hits me. Things might be uncertain right now, but uncertain is better than impossible.
The night concierge’s text breaks my spiral into what may or may not happen.
CONCIERGE: Delivery ready. Shall I send it up?
I type back:
ME: Yes.
Minutes later, the familiar insulated bag appears outside the door. I drink quickly, efficiently—not savoring it, just fueling up. Who knows when I might require strength I haven’t needed in decades. Better to be prepared.
The staff here never ask questions. That’s why I invested in this place thirty years ago, why I expanded LifeSource’s distribution network to include the Bahamas. Vampires need vacations, too. We need places where we can exist without constantly hiding, where the logistics of immortality are handled with the same professionalism as room service and turndown.
It’s one of my quieter achievements. No board meetings. No quarterly reports. Just a handful of properties around the world where creatures like me can briefly pretend we’re not monsters.
I stay on the balcony for another hour, texting Rebecca all the details so she can make the travel arrangements and handle resort logistics for everyone.
Then I call Marcus. He answers before the first ring finishes—he’s been monitoring the feeds all night.
“I saw the party footage,” he says without preamble. “Damien’s getting bolder. He let himself be caught on three different cameras tonight. He’s not even trying to hide anymore.”
“He’s wants me to know he’s watching.”
“It’s working.” A pause. Keys clicking. “The pattern’s changed, Julian. First two days, he was careful. Surgical. Now he’s circling closer, staying longer in exposed positions. He’s building toward something.”
“The wedding. Day after tomorrow.”
“That’s my read. Maximum witnesses, maximum chaos.” More clicking. “I need to be there. Resort security is good, but they’re not equipped for what Damien might bring.”
“Do it. Bring the full tactical kit—comms, surveillance gear, weapons. And bring Lucas and Bastine to assist you.”
“Already positioned. I had them fly to Miami two days ago when Damien first appeared on the feeds.”
Of course he did. Fifty years working together, and Marcus still anticipates moves I haven’t made yet.
“There will be three others arriving tomorrow morning. Elena, Nathaniel, and Sofia.”
“Wow, you called in the A-team, didn’t you?”
“There’s no room for error on this, so yes.”
“Understood. I’ll coordinate with them when they land. Rebecca will send travel arrangements.”
“Thank you, Marcus.”
“Save the thanks for after we win.”
As I stare up at the night sky, I realize that somewhere in the resort, fifty people are sleeping off champagne and celebration, unaware that monsters walk among them. Unaware that one of those monsters wants to tear them apart.
I head back inside.
