Damien Vladermer's Arc

Chapter 10 of 13

Damien had fed on Skylar's blood and found his cure. But her blood was not enough. He wanted more than her wrist. He wanted her heart. The trouble was, he had never courted a mortal woman. In all his long years, humans had been food, not partners. So he did the one thing he knew how to do. He picked up his phone and made calls. He called the people who worked for him. He told them to buy from her shop. Within a day, her handmade orders tripled. She stared at the screen that night, confused and glad. "Something changed," she said. "I sold everything. All of it." "Good," Damien said. He did not tell her he owned the platform. He did not tell her he had made the calls. Two secrets sat in his chest like stones. But sales were not romance. He knew that. So he tried something new. He called ahead to an upscale restaurant near the harbor and booked the whole place. No other guests. No servers hovering. No strangers to watch her. He brought her at dusk. The building glowed, all glass and clean lines. Inside, the tables stood empty except for one. "Where is everyone?" Skylar asked. Her shoulders were tight. She read the room the way she always did. "I bought the night," Damien said. "Just us. No one watching. No one to judge how you hold your fork." She looked at him. Then at the empty room. Slowly her shoulders dropped. "Okay," she said. "Okay." The food came out in small dishes. Fruits she had never seen. Warm bread with dark honey. A soup the color of sunset. He had asked the kitchen to make things she would never buy for herself. Things a foster kid sharing a room never got to taste. She tried one bite, then another. Her eyes went wide. "What is this?" "I don't know the name," Damien said. "I only know you like sweet things in the morning and salty things at night. So I guessed." She set down her spoon. "You've been watching me." "Learning you," he said. "Not the same thing." She ate more. She laughed once, quiet, when a sour berry made her pucker. Damien watched her relax, and he felt the want grow steady and clean, apart from the hunger. Then he set down his glass. He had planned this part all week. "There's something you should know," he said. "The platform where you sell your goods. I own it. I built it." Skylar went still. Her fork stopped halfway. "The sales tonight," she said. "That was you." "I told my people to buy. But the shop is still yours. The work is yours." He waited. He had removed the lie. Now she could choose. She studied him a long moment. Then she picked her fork back up. "Thank you for telling me," she said. "Don't do it again without asking." It was not forgiveness, exactly. But she stayed. She ate. And Damien understood he had courted her as an equal at last, with the truth on the table between them.