Chapter 6 The Library Session

Elena’s Preparation

Elena’s preparation for the 4:00 PM meeting began hours in advance inside her dark, off-campus apartment.

To sit inches away from Maya for hours, she had to meticulously construct her human facade.

First came the hunger. Elena couldn't risk a single spike of bloodlust around Maya, so she hunted early.

She slipped into the dense woods bordering the university town, tracking a stag through the brush.

The feeding was clinical, cold, and purely for survival—she drank enough to completely gorge her inner predator, ensuring her throat wouldn't burn when Maya was near.

Back at her apartment, she brushed her teeth twice and used a heavy vanilla-mint mouthwash to mask any trace of the woods.

Next was her appearance.

In the mirror, Elena watched her eyes shift from a dark crimson back to a camouflaging hazel as the animal blood settled.

To counter her marble-like skin, she lightly applied a warm, peach-toned tinted moisturizer to her cheeks, giving the illusion of a living, breathing complexion.

Finally, she dressed strategically. She chose a thick, heavy knit turtleneck sweater—both to keep Maya from accidentally touching her ice-cold collarbones and to trap her own lack of body heat.

The Secluded Aisle

By 3:55 PM, Elena was waiting in the absolute deepest recess of the St. Jude University library—the 19th-century European History archives on the fourth floor.

It was a secluded aisle lit only by low-hanging brass lamps, smelling heavily of aged parchment, leather bindings, and old dust.

It was the perfect cover.

At exactly four o'clock, the quiet hum of the ancient elevator echoed down the hall.

Elena sat perfectly still at a small mahogany table wedged between two towering bookshelves.

She heard Maya’s scuffed leather boots clicking against the floorboards before she saw her.

Maya was carrying her heavy canvas tote bag, looking slightly out of breath.

"Hey," Maya whispered, her eyes lighting up as she spotted Elena in the dim light. She slid into the wooden chair directly across from her, bringing with her that instantly recognizable wave of rain, linseed oil, and pure, radiant human warmth.

"You weren't kidding about finding a quiet spot. I feel like we’re the only two people left in the world up here."

"The lighting is better for the artwork we're studying," Elena lied smoothly, keeping her hands folded tightly on top of her leather binder.

"And there are fewer distractions."

Maya smiled, leaning forward and resting her chin in her hand.

Her expressive eyes immediately scanned Elena's face, taking in the soft peach glow of her makeup. "You look... different today. Less pale. It suits you."

Elena felt a phantom tightening in her throat. She forced herself to mirror a human breath, her chest rising and falling in a slow, artificial rhythm.

"Thank you. I... got some air before coming here."

"Good," Maya murmured, opening her sketchbook and laying out a stack of printouts featuring 19th-century gothic paintings.

"Because Nadia spent all morning telling me I should stay away from you. She thinks you're dangerous."

Elena's hazel eyes locked onto Maya's. The bluntness of the statement caught her off guard. "And what do you think, Maya?"

Maya looked down at the paintings, then back up at Elena, a fierce, undeniable spark of attraction dancing in her eyes.

"I think Nadia doesn't know you. And I think I’m not easily scared."

As Maya spoke, she reached out to pull a heavy reference book closer to her. Her finger caught sharply on the edge of the crisp, heavy page.

Rip.

"Ouch," Maya muttered, wincing slightly as she pulled her hand back.

Elena's entire body went rigid.

A tiny, brilliant bead of bright red blood welled up on the pad of Maya's index finger.

To Elena, the scent didn't just drift across the table; it exploded. It was a violent, suffocating wave of pure temptation that bypassed her fully gorged stomach and struck straight at her ancient instincts.

The hazel in her eyes violently dilated, the iris expanding until her eyes were a bottomless, pitch black.

Thump-thump. Thump-thump.

Maya's pulse quickened from the minor sting, the sound of her heart echoing like a thunderclap against the quiet library walls.

Elena gripped the underside of the mahogany table, her fingernails piercing right through the finished wood as she fought the terrifying urge to leap across the space.