Chapter 8: The Angel and the Secret
The memory of the dinner hit him with the force of a physical blow. He remembered the candlelight, the smell of roasted pheasant, and the moment the front door opened.
"Noah, these are the Pierce sisters," Duncan announced.
Elizabeth Pierce was a vision of Victorian propriety—dark blonde hair and eyes like the deep Atlantic. She took his hand with a firm, practiced grace. "A pleasure, Mr. Riley."
But then came Leila.
She had hair like a raven’s wing and eyes the color of polished mahogany. When she smiled, the room seemed to shrink until there was only her. Noah took her hand, his fingers trembling. As he pressed his lips to her knuckles, he felt a spark so violent it terrified him.
"The pleasure is all mine, Leila," he whispered. He felt like he was kissing the hand of an angel.
He didn't know then that the "angel" had been dead for over a century.
The memory shifted, blurring through weeks of secret letters and stolen glances, until it landed in the dark, cool woods behind his father’s estate. The moon was a silver sliver.
"I’m glad you agreed to sneak away," Leila giggled, her hand tight in his. "My sister is quite the chaperone."
"We must be quiet," Noah chuckled, though his heart was racing for a different reason. "My father would have my head if he knew I was out here at this hour."
Leila stopped. Her face, usually so bright, turned grave. She dropped his hand. "Elizabeth and I cannot stay here much longer, Noah."
"But why? I love you. I want to build a life here. I want to marry you when I come of age."
"People are talking," she said, her voice dropping to a haunting whisper. "They’re suspicious. They know there is something... wrong in Lexington. They’re looking for a vampire."
Noah laughed, a hollow, human sound. "A vampire? Leila, this is 1867, not the Dark Ages. Vampires are stories for children."
"It is true," she snapped, her eyes flashing with a sudden, predatory intensity. "Elizabeth and I are not sisters. We met a lifetime ago. We are monsters, Noah."
"Stop it," Noah snorted, crossing his arms. "If you want to break my heart, just say so. Don't make up fairy tales."
Then, it happened. The sound he would never forget—the wet snick of bone sliding into place. Leila opened her mouth, and two ivory fangs emerged from her gums. She hissed, a sound that wasn't human, and lunged toward him.
Noah fell back into the dirt, gasping. "Stay away! Stay away, you demon!"
"Shh," she murmured, her face returning to its angelic mask. "I won't hurt you. But you should know... your parents know what we are. They are part of the hunt."
She leaned down, her breath cold against his ear. "We leave in seven days. Come with me. Let me give you the world, Noah. You have one week to decide. If you don't meet me in these woods, I will leave, and you will never see me again."