Oregon, 1968.
The roadside bar reeked of cheap cigarettes, leather jackets, and bad whiskey.
The sound of The Doors played on the jukebox, muffled by the laughter of bikers and local drunks.
At a corner table, two women stood out from the rough atmosphere.
Rose wore a miniskirt and high boots, lazily swirling a glass of bourbon.
Beside her, Alice was the center of attention without saying a single word. She wore a tight, low-cut black dress, her loose hair cascading like a dark waterfall over her bare shoulders.
Back then, there was no melancholy in her eyes.
There was hunger.
And fun.
A man approached — tall, unshaven, smelling of motor oil and masculine confidence.
"Can I buy the lady a drink?" he asked, smiling at Alice.
Alice lifted her gaze. Her eyes gleamed with seductive malice. She didn't refuse. She leaned forward, placing her hand over his on the table.
"You can do more than that, darling."
Minutes later, they were behind the bar, pressed against a brick wall under a light rain. The man kissed Alice's neck with fervor, his hands exploring her body. Alice laughed — a rough, guttural sound and glanced sideways, where Rose leaned against a trash can, watching.
"He's hot, Rose," Alice teased. "You should try him."
The man froze, confused.
"What?"
Before he could react, Alice grabbed his face and sank her fangs into him. His scream was smothered by the deadly kiss. Rose approached without hurry and sank her own fangs into the man's wrist.
The sisters fed together, sharing the life of their prey in a profane communion of blood and ecstasy, laughing as the light faded from his eyes.
Back then, Alice knew no guilt.
She was the night.
The Present – Three weeks after Kara's death
The dorm room was submerged in a sweet, heavy haze. The curtains were drawn, blocking out any ray of sunlight that dared to enter.
Natalie lay on the floor, staring at the spinning ceiling. A marijuana cigarette burned between her fingers, the smoke rising in lazy spirals.
Beside her, empty water bottles and untouched pizza boxes piled up like monuments to her grief.
She took a deep drag, holding the smoke until her lungs burned. It was the only way to stop thinking. The only way not to see Kara's face every time she closed her eyes.
"I miss you…" Natalie whispered to the empty room, her voice thick with drugs and sorrow.
She reached out and touched her phone screen, where a photo of the two of them smiling on the beach served as her wallpaper. The light stung her sensitive eyes.
Natalie couldn't cry anymore. The tears had dried up, leaving only a hollow space in her chest where a hopeful heart once beat.
She crushed the cigarette into the wooden floor, leaving a black mark, and lit another.
Forgetting was the only way to survive.
That same night, New York's underworld pulsed.
To escape the watchful eyes of the Council still hunting her, Alice had changed.
She entered the Nocturne Club, a gothic den beneath Brooklyn's streets. No one would recognize her. She wore a blood-red bob wig, black contact lenses that hid the supernatural glow of her eyes, and a leather-and-lace corset that molded her body like a second skin.
She wasn't there to hide.
She was there to feel something — anything that wasn't Kara's absence.
Alice danced, moving through the crowd, letting the bass vibrate in her bones. Her aura was magnetic. Dangerous.
It didn't take long for attention to find her.
A human couple — a man and a woman, both young, beautiful, and clearly searching for danger — approached.
"You look lonely," the woman said, touching Alice's shoulder. "We hate seeing beautiful things alone."
Alice stopped dancing. She looked at them.
She saw their pulses.
She saw the desire in their eyes.
"I'm not alone," Alice said, her voice hoarse. "I'm hungry."
The man smiled, thinking he understood.
"We've got an apartment nearby. And wine."
Alice went with them.
The apartment was luxurious, overlooking the rainy city. But Alice didn't look at the view.
The moment the door closed, she attacked —not with violence, but with desperate lust.
Clothes were torn away. Alice kissed the woman, biting her lip until it bled, savoring the metallic taste. The man pulled her from behind, and Alice let him, using his body as an anchor so she wouldn't drift into the void.
It was sex, but not love.
It was friction.
It was heat.
It was a pathetic attempt to fill an infinite abyss with fleeting sensations.
At the peak of it, Alice's nature took over. She bit the man's shoulder, drinking from him as she moaned. Then she pulled the woman close and bit her neck — not to kill, but to quench the thirst burning in her throat.
The couple, dazed by the erotic bite, simply surrendered, moaning in pleasure and pain.
Alice fell asleep between their warm, marked bodies, her face smeared with dried blood.
When the gray dawn illuminated the room, Alice opened her eyes.
The emptiness was still there.
Sex hadn't filled it.
Blood hadn't filled it.
She rose silently, dressed in her gothic clothes, put on the red wig, and left, abandoning the exhausted, anemic couple without looking back.
A light rain fell over the abandoned pier where Rose waited.
Alice approached, removing the wig and tossing it into the river. Her black, wet hair clung to her pale, gaunt face. She looked like a ghost.
Rose leaned against a beam, smoking a cigarette she didn't need. She looked at her sister with a mix of relief and sorrow.
"You look awful, Alice."
"I know," Alice replied flatly. "How is she?"
Rose exhaled smoke, staring at the dark water.
"Natalie? She went back to classes. Tries to keep a routine. But I see her… she smokes all day. She doesn't sleep. She's a ghost who forgot to die."
Alice nodded. Guilt was a familiar weight now.
"At least she's alive."
"And you?" Rose asked, flicking away the cigarette. "Are you going to keep playing 'slutty vampire' in clubs until the Council finds you and rips your head off?"
Alice lifted her gaze. For the first time in weeks, there was focus in her brown eyes — a cold, blue flame of hatred.
"No. I'm done playing. I want revenge, Rose. And for that… I need power."
Rose frowned, uneasy.
"What are you talking about?"
"Beth," Alice said. "I want her location."
Rose stepped back as if slapped. Genuine fear crossed her face.
"You must be insane. You don't want to find her — you want to use her. Alice… Beth is dangerous. You know what she did to us. You know what she is."
Alice grabbed Rose's shoulders.
"She's the only one who knows where the ancient secrets are buried. I need more than physical strength to destroy the Council. I need ancient magic. I need what she knows."
"If you go after her… there's no coming back," Rose warned, her voice shaking. "Beth gives nothing for free. The price will be your soul."
"My soul died on that road with Kara," Alice replied coldly. "Tell me where she is."
Rose looked into her sister's eyes. There was no negotiation left. The protective Alice was gone, replaced by a vengeful force ready to burn the world.
Rose sighed, defeated.
"England. London. She's there… or at least she was the last time I felt her trail."
Alice released her.
"Thank you."
"Alice, please—" Rose tried one last time.
But Alice was already walking away, disappearing into the darkness, toward a fate that might be far worse than death.