Crimson Bonds

Chapter 3: Friends and Frenemies

"Are you sure you don't want to talk about it?"

Babe sighed and leaned back against the couch, pressing the cold soda can against his forehead. He glanced sideways at Krit, who was perched on the edge of the chair across from him, his eyebrows furrowed in concern.

"Talk about what?" Babe muttered, popping open the can and taking a long sip. "The witches trying to kill me? Or the vampire who decided to show up and play hero for no apparent reason?"

"Both, obviously," Krit replied, as if it were the most natural thing in the world to dissect a near-death experience over sodas in Babe's living room.

Krit had a way of making everything feel a little less intense, a little more... normal. That was his thing. Babe had always appreciated that about him—Krit was the kind of person who would tell you the sky was falling but make it sound like an exciting new adventure. Even now, his eyes sparkled with curiosity, and he had that half-smirk like he was just waiting for Babe to spill the juicy details.

"I don't know, Krit," Babe said, dragging a hand through his messy hair. "It was just... weird. I mean, I've had run-ins with rogue witches before, but this felt different. Like they were desperate."

Krit leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "Desperate for what?"

"That's the part I'm trying to figure out," Babe replied, tapping his fingers against the can. "It's not just about my blood magic anymore. There's something else they want, something bigger. And then there's this vampire—Billy. He showed up out of nowhere and chased them off, but he didn't feel like the kind of guy who just... helps for the sake of helping."

Krit snorted, rolling his eyes. "A vampire with an ulterior motive? Shocking."

Babe shot him a glare. "I'm serious. There's something about him. I don't know what it is, but he's not just some random bloodsucker."

"Oh, I'm sure he's not random," Krit said, his voice dripping with mock seriousness. "I mean, come on—'Billy Patchanon'? Sounds like a vampire with connections. Probably one of those stuck-up clans that think they run the world."

"You're not wrong," Babe muttered, the name Patchanon still lingering in his mind. "But it's more than that. When I talked to him, it felt like... like he knew something. About me. Or about the witches. Like he's already involved somehow."

Krit's smirk softened, and he leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. "Okay, but what are you going to do about it? You've got rogue witches gunning for you, a vampire with an agenda, and—oh, let's not forget—the Blood Moon coming up."

Babe froze, the can halfway to his lips.

The Blood Moon.

He hadn't told Krit about that part yet. But now that Krit had brought it up, there was no avoiding the topic.

"How did you—"

"Elysia," Krit said casually, cutting him off with a wave of his hand. "She mentioned something about it when I saw her earlier. You know how she is—cryptic as hell. But she said it's connected to your magic somehow, and if that's true, then we're in bigger trouble than we thought."

Babe groaned and set the can down on the coffee table, rubbing his temples. "I should've known Elysia would be poking around."

"She's your mentor, Babe. Poking around is kind of her job." Krit leaned forward again, his expression more serious now. "So, what's the deal with the Blood Moon? And how does it tie into all this witch nonsense?"

Babe hesitated, his fingers curling into fists against his knees. "It's... complicated."

"Complicated how?"

"Complicated like ancient prophecy, forbidden blood magic, and a potential apocalypse kind of complicated."

Krit blinked. "Oh. Well, that clears things up."

Babe shot him a look, then sighed. "My grandmother used to tell me stories about it—the Blood Moon. It's tied to our coven's blood magic. Supposedly, when the Blood Moon rises, anyone with our kind of magic is... stronger. More powerful. But it also attracts attention. Bad attention."

"Like witches who want to kill you and steal your powers kind of attention?"

"Exactly."

Krit was silent for a moment, his eyes narrowing thoughtfully. "So, what does this have to do with the witches after you? Are they trying to use the Blood Moon for something?"

"I don't know," Babe admitted. "But I'm guessing it's not just about me anymore. If the Blood Moon really is connected to my magic, then they might want it for something bigger. Something dangerous."

Krit's expression darkened, and he stood up, pacing the room. "And then there's Billy."

"Yeah," Babe said softly, his mind drifting back to the vampire's piercing gaze, the way he'd seemed to know something Babe didn't. "There's Billy."

Krit stopped pacing, his eyes locked on Babe. "You think he's involved with the witches?"

"I don't know," Babe admitted, shaking his head. "But there's something about him. He was... curious about me. Too curious."

"And let me guess—tall, dark, and broody?"

Babe laughed despite himself. "Something like that."

Krit grinned, flopping back onto the couch beside Babe. "Sounds like you've got your hands full. But hey, at least you're not alone in this."

Babe raised an eyebrow. "Who says I'm not alone?"

Krit nudged him with his elbow. "You've got me. And if this Billy guy sticks around, you might have yourself a vampire sidekick."

"I don't need a sidekick," Babe grumbled, but there was a flicker of warmth in his chest at Krit's words.

"Maybe not, but you've got one anyway," Krit said, his grin widening. "And you know I'm not going anywhere."

Babe smiled, the tension in his shoulders easing just a bit. Having Krit around always made things feel less overwhelming, even when the world was falling apart around them. He might not have all the answers yet, but at least he wasn't facing it alone.

Later that night, after Krit had gone home and the apartment had fallen into a peaceful quiet, Babe found himself staring out the window at the moonlit city. The air was still, almost eerily so, and the streets below were empty, save for the occasional flicker of movement in the shadows.

He couldn't shake the feeling that something was coming. Something big.

And then, as if summoned by his thoughts, there was a soft knock at the door.

Babe frowned, his heart skipping a beat. He wasn't expecting anyone, and Krit had a habit of texting before showing up unannounced.

Cautiously, he approached the door, his fingers tingling with the familiar hum of magic just in case.

He swung the door open—and there stood Billy, looking as calm and collected as ever, leaning against the doorframe with a smirk that practically screamed I told you so.

"Miss me?" Billy asked, his voice smooth as velvet.

Babe groaned, resisting the urge to slam the door in his face. "What are you doing here?"

Billy straightened up, his eyes glinting in the low light. "I couldn't stop thinking about what you said earlier. About the witches. About the Blood Moon."

Babe's pulse quickened, but he kept his face impassive. "And?"

"And I think we should talk."

Babe crossed his arms, raising an eyebrow. "About what?"

Billy's gaze softened, and for a split second, Babe saw something in his eyes—something that wasn't just curiosity or amusement. It was deeper than that.

"About us."