They Rise at Dusk (Book #1) ✔️

Chapter 21: Eldritch Horrors

To the two men, both dressed in black, the woman exiting the car was the centre of the universe. They flocked around her, tending to her every need, which included opening the car door, holding out hands for her to grab, and taking her suitcase out. Their movements were coordinated and smooth, like they were dancing around her, predicting her next move.

I could not see her face, nor her hair – it was all hidden behind the velvet black robe and hood she had on. All I could glimpse were her hands, terribly pale, her sharp red nails, and the diamonds around her wrists and fingers.

"Who is that?" I whispered, becoming aware of my surroundings and Dorian standing behind me.

"My great-great-great aunt." The sound of his footsteps echoed along with his words as he left the room.

"What?" I followed him. "You have Elder blood?"

Dorian turned on his heel, and pointed at his silver hair, "I may be a metrosexual, but even I wouldn't go this far."

Silver hair wasn't completely uncommon in our midst, nor the reddish tint some vampires' eyes had. All of us had a trace of Elder blood in our veins, like humans had a trace of the Neanderthal. But having one in a direct family line? Only a few generations away?

My breath caught in my throat. My father must not have known. If he had, he would have made sure Dorian had already married Libby.

I wanted to ask more; I wanted him to tell me which one of his predecessors passed on the gene, and whether my father knew, and what the hell was an Elder doing in his house, but all of my thoughts quieted down when Dorian opened the front door and revealed the hooded figure on the other side.

Her two minions quickly closed the door behind her. One of them spread out his hands, waiting for her robe, and the other walked towards Dorian. I lingered behind him, feeling weirdly scared.

The minion that stopped in front of Dorian looked too regular to be hanging out with an Elder vampire. His eyes were honey-brown, and his hair mimicked the colour almost perfectly, making him look warm and smooth.

"Lady requests a windowless room, preferably underground, a separate private bathroom, three meals a night, as fresh as possible, and not to be disturbed unless she so desires."

The woman behind him took off her robe.

"Timothy, we're not in an Embassy, Lady can speak for herself."

"Pardon." Timothy bowed his head and stepped to the side, allowing his... employer to pass through.

Once my eyes landed on her face, I knew I would never stop staring.

She was exquisite. Somehow, she looked both ancient and young. Her lips were thin and colourless, her eyes sharp, elongated, and her cheekbones and jaw sharp, but her skin was smooth, wrinkle-free, making her seem just a tad younger.

Her eyes were a captivating dark red and seemed to shimmer with a hungry gleam that was always present. Her silver hair was styled in a full bun on top of her head, elongating her neck and drawing attention to the black pendant that hung between her breasts. She was dressed in a stunning black floor-length gown with long sleeves, fitted at the chest and waist, and embellished with delicate lace. The dress had a wide V-neck that sat elegantly on her shoulders.

There was a predatory beauty to her that reminded me of Dorian.

I also knew that the only thing she needed to do to make me run for my life was open those thin pale lips. But she paid no mind to me. She didn't even look at me.

"Dorian!" The woman approached him. "Este minunat să te văd. Te-am ratat foarte mult. Du-mă la fată, pot să te ajut."

Oh, great. He brought her from Romania.