We step out of the club

We step into the club’s terrace, which is in fact an outdoor smoking section, surrounded by half-dead potted plants. I pull out my vape and inhale a long, fruity drag. As I exhale a thick cloud I see Ariadne glancing over with that amused little smirk.

“Modern comforts,” she says with a dry voice, with just a hint of tease.

"It keeps me from picking up again," I say, taking another hit. "Sort of."

She chuckles, a soft and indulgent sound, and slides a sleek silver case from her purse. With a snap, she reveals a row of long, elegant white cigarettes. She lights up with her eyes on me and I smile at the old black&white era vibe she's oozing. She offers one to me. "Want one?"

I hesitate for a breath, maybe two. Then I take it.

She lights it for me, her hand shielding the flame as I lean in. Her fingers brush my chin, light as a whisper. The moment the smoke curls into my lungs, it's like slipping into an old, familiar vice. Sharp and real in a way vaping never quite managed.

"God," I mutter. "That’s..."

"Better?" she finishes.

"Yeah," I admit, and I hate how easy it is to fall back into it.

She looks pleased, like she’s just unwrapped something. We stand in silence for a few moments, trading glances through the haze. Then a stumbling guy with too much booze in his belly and too little self-awareness staggers toward us.

"Hey—hey, you ladies alone tonight?" He’s grinning in that annoying way, eyes flitting from me to Ariadne like he’s picking a which he's gonna bang tonight.

I roll my eyes and turn away. But Ariadne... something changes.

The temperature doesn’t drop, not exactly, but I feel it. Like static crawling along my spine. Her body doesn’t move, but her stare sharpens into something diamond-hard.

"Walk away," she says, calm and cold as winter.

He falters. His smirk twitches. "No need to be a bitch—"

She lifts a single eyebrow. He stops talking. Then he stumbles backward, muttering something and disappearing into the shadows.

I blink. "Wow... what the hell was that?"

She exhales slowly, smoke curling from her lips. "He was boring me. Come on—it's too noisy here, let’s walk."

And like that, we’re strolling away from the club's glow into the quiet, dark street. I'd probably feel uncomfortable alone here in the middle of the night, but seeing how easily she dispatched that dude, I feel safe in her company.

"You okay?" she asks after a while, voice quieter now, intimate.

"I should probably be asking you that. You just terrified that guy without even blinking."

She laughs. "Oh, he terrified himself. Some men scare easy, especially once they realize how stupid they behave."

We walk in silence for a bit, the kind that doesn’t feel awkward. There’s a strange rhythm between us. Like I have a lot in common with her, and at the same time I don't—but I’m feeling like I could get those other parts too.

"So, you kept asking about me," I say. "But what about you? What’s your story?"

She looks amused by the reversal. "You’re definitely not like most people I meet."

"That’s not an answer."

She takes another drag, holding the smoke in for a long moment before exhaling a long stream. "I come from... Europe, an old French village. I’ve had a lot of names. And I do what I want, most of the time, basically I follow my own desires."

I raise an eyebrow. Her answer begs a ton of new questions, but I focus on the last bit. "Interesting... and what are your desires?"

She stops. Turns to face me. The corner of her mouth lifts in a smirk, but her eyes... there's something darker in them.

"Right now? You."

My heart thuds once, loud in my ears.

She steps closer, brushing a loose strand of hair from my face. Her fingers trail lightly along my jaw, and I don’t pull away. I should. But I don’t.

"You feel it too," she whispers. "That you’re meant for something more. That this... life you’ve built isn’t it."

My throat tightens. Because I do feel it. I’ve felt it for months.

"You’re not like your friend," she says. "Monica—she clings to order. To rules. She wants to fix you because she’s afraid of losing herself. But you? You’re already breaking free."

The words wrap around me, too perfect. Too accurate. I should be suspicious. But instead, I feel... understood.

"I don’t know what you think you see in me," I say, quietly.

"I see someone who’s waking up. And I want to be there when she does."

Then she leans in. I brace for a kiss, feel my breath catch—

But her lips don’t meet mine. They drift lower, toward my neck. Weird...

A split-second of clarity flares: What am I doing? Walking around alone with a stranger? Something in me stiffens, but it’s already too late.

Pain. What the fuck? Sharp, surgical pain, like twin needles driven into my neck. I gasp, instinct taking over, and shove her.

{if Fighter = 1}

With all the power I could muster, I push her away, my adrenaline flooding me with raw energy. Surprised, Ariadne stumbles back, and for a moment, I see her clearly under a streetlight: blood glistening on her lips, her... teeth bared in a snarl.

Teeth? Nope. Fangs.

"What the fuck—" I ****.

I turn to run.

But before I finish the single step, she’s already on me.

"No-"

Her hand slams over my mouth. I’m pinned against the wall, one arm crushed beneath her grip, the other clawing at nothing.

"A fighter, I see? That'll make things... even more interesting," she growls without all that charm from before and next thing, her fangs are buried in my neck again.

{else}

But my push her again but it’s weak, useless. I try to scream, but instantly her palm cover my mouth.

"No... don't," I mumble in her hand. "Please. Stop."

But she doesn’t stop. I can feel her teeth—or fangs?—in my neck. What the fuck?

{endif}

I can’t move. I can’t scream. I’m helpless. Cold concrete behind me, her impossible strength pressing in from the front. Her lips pull at my neck, and I hear it—wet, gulping sounds, greedy and sick, making my stomach twist.

{if Helped_Ethan = 1}

In that moment of pure horror and helplessness, my brain cracks open and Ethan’s warning screams: _“Forces you can’t comprehend” and “If you’re lucky, you’ll never meet her”_—and I get it now, too late, pinned in this damn alley. This is what he meant. This is what he tried to warn me about. And I walked right into her fucking arms. A goddamn vampire...

{else}

In that moment of pure horror and helplessness, my mind flails toward Trevor and the man who saved me in the alley. Is this connected? Am I going to end like Trevor, in the so-called **** by natural causes? Drained by a fucking... vampire?

{endif}

As my mind races, I notice the pain slowly shifts. It dulls, turning warm, like a heat spreading through my veins. Weird. I'm probably dying...

I blink, dizzy, the alley spinning. The terror’s still there, but it’s fading, like I’m sinking into a fucked-up dream. Ariadne moves her hand from my mouth. I could scream now, call for help, but my throat just whimpers, soft and pathetic.

She still holds me in her iron grip with one hand, but the other one roams my body, brushing my ribs and boobs in a possessive way. I should tell her to fuck off, to stop this shit. I don’t.

Instead, I hear myself whisper “Yes…” like some part of me’s giving in, betraying me. My eyes flutter, head lolling against the wall. My body’s buzzing, weak and hot and for some reason arousal is creeping in where fear should be.

What the hell’s wrong with me? I’m panting, my skin is tingling, and I hate how good it starts to feel.

The gulping sounds keep going, but they don't sound revolting anymore, they're pulling me deeper. And the pain is almost but gone.

I accept it, this fucked-up moment, her mouth on my neck, taking me. My body slumps, leaning into her, needing her to hold me up.

Pleasure sparks, spreading fast from my neck all the way down to my pussy. Her feeding’s doing something, lighting me up, making me ache.

“Fuck, Ariadne... what are you doing to me?” I moan, voice raw, shaky. My hips twitch, pressing closer, wanting more of whatever this is.

Her lips lift and I take a look at her. Her mouth is covered in red, perfectly matching her hair and dress. She's grinning at me, I don't know if it's supposed to be seductive or mocking, but it doesn't matter, cause those fangs get all my attention. She's a real vampiress and she still looks hot, despite my own blood dripping down her chin.

“Mmm... you taste so damn good,” she murmurs, her tongue flicking my blood-slick skin. “You like this, don't you, Thalia? This could be your desire too, huh?”

I should be scared shitless, but I’m not. I’m burning, dizzy, my panties are soaked, and I don’t care how wrong this is.

"Tell me how much you like this..." Her hand slides down and her fingers graze my thigh, teasing under my skirt. I gasp and spread my legs a bit, inviting her without thinking. I guess that's my answer. I’m fucking hooked, as if my soaked panties aren't the evidence enough.

"Let me offer you what you crave," she purrs before her terrible, beautiful fangs pierce my neck again while her fingers find my clit. This is so fucking wrong, she's biting me and drinking my damn blood for fuck's sake, and I'm about to cum all over her fingers.

Until I hear a voice-

"Ariadne, leave her alone. Now."