Chapter 7: Silent Shadows

The sun dipped low on the horizon, casting an orange hue in the sky. Two weeks had passed since Aria began her stay in the human world, and every day, nothing changed.

The only information she had acquired from Sebastian was about how the Carrington family staff was mostly made up of ghouls and werewolves. Something she had already known.

The only thing she didn't know was that the family owned a museum named Blue Moon—a museum known for collecting rare artifacts and exquisite pieces of art.

A sharp tap against the window broke the silence.

A bird with brilliant red wings perched there, its feathers shimmering like embers against the grey sky. The sound drew Aria's attention, and when she saw the familiar creature, a rare smile lit her face.

"Oriel," she said, warmth creeping into her voice as she rushed to open the window. The bird flitted inside, landing gracefully on her shoulder. "What are you doing here?"

The phoenix-like creature rubbed its fiery head against her cheek, chirping in a scolding tone. Aria laughed, the sound soft and sweet—a stark contrast to the coldness she so often carried.

"I really gotta kill that son of a bitch, don't I?" she joked, her smile turning wicked.

Oriel puffed up, squawking indignantly as if to agree, and began tugging sharply at her hair.

"Ow! Okay, okay—I'm sorry!" she winced. "I just didn't want anyone knowing I left Orion unattended."

The bird released her hair with a huff and nestled closer to her neck. Aria brushed her fingers gently over its feathers, the familiar warmth soothing a tension she hadn't realized she was holding.

She spent the next hour wandering through the estate, giving Oriel a half-hearted tour while recounting the dull details of her stay. Nothing about this place made sense.

"You're right," she murmured in agreement to Oriel's song. "Enough waiting."

Without hesitation, she pushed open the heavy velvet doors to Hardin's office. He leaned back in his sleek leather chair, an air of cool detachment surrounding him.

"I've been here a month, and all you do is avoid me," she said, collapsing onto the green leather couch. "Your uncle is in my face constantly, but you? Nowhere to be found."

He closed the file he had been reading, folding his hands neatly on the desk. "What exactly do you want?" His voice was low, smooth, yet guarded.

"I'm hungry," she said, her tone laced with meaning.

His expression darkened. "Has the food here not been to your satisfaction?"

Aria laughed softly. It was a sound that sent shivers down his spine. "I need to feed, Hardin."

His eyes narrowed slightly as realization dawned. She wasn't a werewolf. That eliminated one possibility—but it still didn't answer the question gnawing at him.

"What are you?" he asked quietly.

Aria rose from her seat, her gaze drawn once again to the faintly glowing orb embedded in his chest. Its light pulsed faintly beneath his shirt, a temptation she couldn't resist. She circled his desk slowly, brushing her fingers along the back of his chair.

"What do you think I am?" she teased, her voice a whisper. His breath hitched as she leaned closer. "A ghoul?" he rasped.

A playful smirk curled her lips. "I'll tell you what I am if you tell me what you are."

For a moment, silence hung thick between them. His eyes tracked the movement of her lips before settling back on her gaze.

"What do you really want from me?" His voice was rougher now, laced with something far more dangerous.

"A place to crash," she murmured, trailing a finger down his chest. "For a while."

He caught her wrist, tugging her into his lap with effortless strength. Her face cradled against his neck, and he loosened his tie, exposing the pale skin beneath.

"Drink," he commanded.

The hunger flared in her bright scarlet eyes. Without another word, her fangs elongated, piercing his flesh. His blood hit her tongue like fire and sugar. An addictive sweetness unlike anything she had ever known. For a moment, nothing else mattered.

****

Across town, the night was less eventful—or so it seemed.

"Do we really have to babysit this lady?" Raphael grumbled, slouched in Ethan's car with a soda can in hand.

Blue popped a fry into her mouth, her face illuminated by the soft glow of the streetlights. "Aria said to check every lead, no matter how small." She shrugged. "Even if it's just a drunk woman going through a messy divorce."

Raphael huffed, his dreadlocks falling into his eyes. "Why do we even trust her? She's the devil's granddaughter."

"Great-granddaughter," Blue corrected with a smirk. "Besides, judging people by their family is pretty outdated—even if her relatives are mortal enemies of God."

A soft snicker escaped him. "So you believe in God now?"

Blue fished two necklaces from beneath her shirt. One, a silver cross. The other, a blood-red pearl. "If demons are real, why not God?" she said simply.

Raphael considered her words, the rare seriousness in her tone catching him off guard. Still, he shook his head. "I don't care. I still don't trust her."

The back door swung open, and Ethan slid in with a bag of snacks. "What are we talking about?" he asked, too chipper for a stakeout.

"Just how massive your brain is," Raphael deadpanned.

Ethan pouted. "Hey, a small brain means no big head—unlike you."

Their banter faded as the hours crept by. Nothing changed. The woman they were watching barely moved.

"This is boring," Ethan yawned. Raphael immediately backed him up.

"We should hit Jessie's party," he suggested, already craving a break from the dullness.

Blue sighed, knowing that she was outnumbered. A light-bulb appeared above her head.

"How about we break into school?" she proposed as an even more fun event.

"And do what exactly?" Raphael questioned with mild interest.

"Anything," Ethan answered. "Let's go spray paint the entire school and set up a few surprises in the lockers."

Blue and Ethan were already on board. Raphael let out a defeated sigh, and Ethan pumped up his fist excitedly.

They arrived at the school and parked their car a street away from the scene.

The three of them moved like shadows through the school grounds, their faces hidden beneath ski masks to avoid the ever-watching security cameras. The moonlight barely touched the edges of their figures as Blue quietly pushed open her classroom window, the old frame creaking softly in protest. She slipped inside first, landing lightly on the tiled floor. Raphael and Ethan followed, moving with practiced ease.

"Is it safe to take off our masks now?" Raphael muttered, tugging at the fabric. The whole thing felt ridiculous.

Blue pulled hers off, shaking out her hair as she nodded. "Yeah, the cameras don't cover this wing at night."

Raphael exhaled in relief and peeled off his mask, raking a hand through his dreadlocks. Ethan, however, left his on, adjusting it like he was born for trouble.

"What? I like the vibe," he said with a grin, his voice muffled under the black fabric.

Blue internally face-palmed herself.

Each of them grabbed a spray can from their backpacks, the metal cold against their palms, the promise of chaos hissing softly when they shook them.

"Thirty minutes," Blue reminded them. "Meet back here."

Without another word, they scattered.

Blue darted down the dimly lit hallway, the faint hum of the security system buzzing somewhere in the walls. She popped the cap off her spray can and let loose, streaking bold lines of yellow across the pristine lockers. Symbols. Words. Pieces of thoughts she couldn't say out loud.

The paint fumes were sharp in her nose as she moved fast, her heart pounding with something between adrenaline and rebellion.

Blue froze mid-spray, the hiss of paint fading into the heavy silence around her. She tilted her head, glaring at the portrait behind the trophy case. The principal's wrinkled face stared back—pompous, stiff, and utterly unbothered.

"What a narcissistic bastard," she muttered under her breath. Without hesitation, she leaned closer and sprayed a massive, cartoonish dick across his face.

She stepped back, admiring her work with a smirk curling her lips.

A gruesome shriek echoed through the dark hallway, causing Blue's head to snap in that direction.

"That sounded like Ethan."