Chapter Text
Ever since you left the college dorms to rent out an apartment in the city, you never thought you’d feel an overwhelming sense of debt until now. While in school, you somehow managed to fall asleep each night, comforted by the thoughts of scholarships helping you through the intense student debt. Now, however, things were a little bit rougher in the city, especially around the area you were in. The neighborhood was nice enough, nothing too fancy or you couldn't afford it, but you’ve heard rumors circulating around there. Claims of paranormal sightings and strange figures in the dark of the night, but you weren’t easily spooked by ghost stories.
You never met with the landlord himself, only with his son, who claimed his father ran several other buildings in the area and had little to no time for new tenants. His demeanor towards you was polite in words, but you sensed a deep coldness to his aura and couldn’t put past the feeling that he was too concise with his words and straight to the point. A no-nonsense type of man who said what he needed to say and nothing more. He'd agreed to your price, which was nearly $200 less than originally listed, but he was probably bored with you or maybe he felt bad after checking your credit score.
After carefully going over your background reports and references, he allowed you to sign the lease and you exchanged a quick handshake. You almost stiffened at his touch, his hand calloused and chilled. You blinked out of your haze to wrap up the awkward meeting. “Thank you so much, Mr….?”
His amber eyes regarded you disappointingly and you felt like you were being silently chastised like a child. “Adrian Ţepeş. You can leave out the ‘mister’. That title belongs to my father.”
You nodded numbly and released his hand. “Gotcha.” You still felt his icy grasp in your palm.
A few moments passed and you cleared your throat uncomfortably. He was still watching your every move, probably judging you, though you’d done nothing wrong so far. You gathered your belongings clumsily and lumbered towards the door while he followed you with practiced steps. He held the door open for you and you mumbled a “thank you” as you stepped out. You paused to give him a toothy smile of appreciation and he simply nodded in return.
“Remember, the payment is due on the 13th every month,” he reminded you. “Good night.” And with that, he closed the door to his office.
“Night,” you muttered dejectedly.
Your room wasn’t far from his office, being on the first floor and all, you had settled for a cheaper and lazier route than living several floors higher. You had already packed most of what little you had into the one bedroom space you rented and unpacking it all didn’t take much time. You lay in your simple bed that night wondering about your new landlord and his attitude towards you, thinking back to his stoic reminder of payday. You exhaled shakily. If this is how he received you as a newcomer, you could only imagine what he was like if you didn’t pay up on time. Going to sleep was hard as is, but settling into slumber was near impossible as his words bounced around your head all night.
You’d been on time with your bills so far. The past few months were hell, living paycheck to paycheck, but you somehow managed to cover all your bills on time, much to the satisfaction of Adrian Ţepeş. You always greeted him with a smile in the halls and he returned that impassive nod of his before slipping away. There wasn’t much to make of it, but you’d given him the benefit of the doubt and excused him for the sour faces.
One brisk morning, you rushed out to the local cafe, taking the bus farther into neighborhoods cleaner than your own. Sypha had texted you way too many times to be energetic in the morning and you finally called her on the bus ride to the cafe. She picked up after the second ring. “Helloooo?” her voice chirped on the other side of the phone.
“Hey girlie.” Your voice sounded like death compared to her lively one. She didn’t seem to notice.
“Where are you?” she asked impatiently. “I thought you died in bed when you didn’t answer me.”
You wrinkled your nose at the phone, knowing full well she couldn’t see you. “After the twentieth text?”
“Yes?”
You sighed. “Syph, you told me to be there by 7:30.”
“And?”
“It’s 7:15.”
She gasped so loud, you had to glance around the bus to make sure the other passengers didn’t hear her. “You’re already fifteen minutes late!”
“I’ll be there soon, Sypha.” you said, calming her as best as you could. “Where’s Trevor? Why don’t you bother him since he’s actually late all the time?”
Sypha snorted on the other side of the phone. “That moron spent the night at my place, so he’s stuck with me. Here, Treffy, say hi.” You heard a deep grumble akin to a bear that sounded like “don’t call me that” when the phone went back to Sypha. “See? We’re waiting for you, so hurry up!”
“Yes, Sypha, let me just shove the driver aside and gas it to the cafe.”
“Mm, not a bad idea.”
“Sypha!”
She laughed heartily. “Okay, okay, just get your ass over here as soon as you can. Bye!”
When you arrived at the cafe, you half-expected the ginger to stand guard at the door to usher you in. Instead, you found her and Trevor (who was face down) at a corner booth, awaiting their orders. You made your way to their side, waving a hand in greeting before undoing your warm jacket. Sypha jumped at you, tugging you down into the seat next to her.
“Where the hell have you been?” she hissed at you, gripping your scarf. You lifted your phone to show her the time. 7:30 on the dot. She released you with a huff. “You’re lucky it’s not a minute over.”
You rolled your eyes playfully before punching Trevor’s arm across the table. He grunted and lifted a hand without raising his head. “What’s with him?” you asked Sypha, who was already folding her shins beneath her.
“Agh,” she flicked a dismissive hand his way. “He’s hungover from last night.”
You tucked your jacket around your hips. “What the hell did you guys do?”
Sypha shook her head. “If he went sober for 24 full hours, he might actually die.” You laughed lightly and picked up a small menu before it was plucked out of your hands. You turned. “Hey!”
Sypha slid the menu underneath a napkin stand. “I already ordered for you.”
“You don’t even know what I want!”
“Your usual, of course.”
You paused. “Well, what if I wanted something different?” you tried.
“Then I wouldn’t have ordered for you, now would I?” Sypha’s smile crinkled around her bright cerulean eyes before she shifted further into her seat. Her fingers drummed on the table expectantly. “So?”
“So what?” you asked confused.
“How’s the new apartment?” she questioned cheekily. There was something buzzing in her chest, and you wondered if she took an espresso shot or two before you came. You narrowed your eyes at her and she stared back at you expectantly.
“It’s…” you struggled to find the proper words. “Good.”
Her smile stretched wider. “Just good?”
“Yeah?” You were getting worried now. Was there something you did that she found out about?
Trevor lifted his head sluggishly. “She wants to know about your landlord.” His head fell back down onto the table with a heavy thump. Sypha slapped the back of his head, as he muttered an ‘ow’ in response.
“I was gonna ask that!” she griped at him angrily. Trevor only shrugged in response.
Were they talking about Mr. Vlad or Adrian? “What about him?” you asked, thoroughly discombobulated by either thing. Sypha turned back to you with shining eyes and your heart beat faster. You knew exactly who she was asking about.
“What’s it like, living in a ghetto building with a hot landlord?” she crooned, her tone too sensual for a public area like this. You glanced around to find the cafe rather quiet and scattered before whipping your head back to her.
“Could you keep it down?” you hissed lowly. “There’s nothing going on with me and him.”
Sypha’s eyes widened and Trevor tilted his head to stare at you. You froze. The cafe suddenly seemed a little too quiet for you and you heard every heavy breath coming from your two comrades.
“I never said there was.” Sypha said slowly. Shit .
You blinked and swallowed to find your throat dry. Where the hell was your drink? Looking away, you grasped your phone and shoved it back into your pocket, hands itching for something to be distracted by. You felt a strong grip on your arm and turned to meet the giant eyes of Sypha, who looked more than exhilarated at your reaction.
She shook your arm excitedly. “Are you serious?”
“I--”
“Adrian Ţepeş?” Her tone was as if she found out the most scandalous news of the year.
Your eyes widened. “Adrian? I thought you meant Mr. Vlad.” Sypha’s startled cackle seemed too pleased with this news. She leaned forward again, almost yelling.
“Mr. Vlad, too?!”
“What--no!” you waved your hands desperately, not noticing Trevor’s slow ascent from the table to sit back and glare at you. “Sypha, where the fuck are you getting this from? I’m not sleeping with anyone!”
Sypha couldn’t breathe at this point. She was laughing and crying at the same time, repeatedly trying to gasp out words, only to fall back into the plush seat with hands clutching at her sides. Trevor cleared his throat and you turned to him with a desperate expression, hoping he would understand.
“She never said you were sleeping with either of them.” He grumbled out with crossed arms.
“That’s what she was implying, though!”
“You know she’s just fucking with you.” He shifted forward, leaning closer. “Now I have to really wonder about where your morals lie.”
You shoved his shoulder back with a palm, barely moving him as you huffed back into your own seat. “You guys are taking this way too seriously. It’s too early for this shit. I’m not involved with anyone, is what I meant to say.”
The barista sidled up to your booth with a small smile. “Okay, I have one black coffee, a caramel macchiato and---”
“Thank God, what does it take to get a drink over here?” you grabbed your order from the tray and took a generous sip, disregarding the temperature so as not to say anything stupid. The barista excused herself and awkwardly walked away, leaving Trevor cupping his mug and sliding Sypha’s drink to her side, where her laughs were just dying down. She sighed out a few more giggles and turned to you.
Your finger stopped her in her place. “Drink first. I’m not talking to you anymore.”
Trevor’s cold blue eyes were like steel rods in your head as he stared at you, boring through your mind while you drank your order, ignoring him as best as you could. You thought about their reactions to your words and why they were so interested about your relationship with your landlord. Yes, he was attractive, but so was every other person in the dorms. They never pressed you about your relationship status there as much as now. What changed?
“So,” Sypha tried slowly. “How did you get listed into that area?”
You placed your cup down and stared at the colors within the rim. There was so much you could say to throw them off your back, but the truth never escaped Sypha. If there was one thing you knew about her, it was that she was way too knowledgeable for her own good. You wondered how Trevor felt about that.
“It was cheap and it’s somewhat close to my job, so I checked it out.” you answered, taking another sip. “Why?”
Sypha and Trevor shared a look, obviously knowing something you did not. He softly shook his head at Sypha as their eyes made silent conversation, replying through subtle nods and eye movements. Finally, she turned towards you with a darker look shadowing her usually bright eyes. Scooting closer to your body as if about to share a secret, Sypha leaned into your space.
“We’ve been keeping eyes on that area for a while now.” Her voice was gravelly and serious. “Reports of weird events and supernatural occurrences keep recurring there and we have reason to suspect it is because a figure of darkness lurks there in comfort.”
What did this have to do with you? You knew the couple had always been interested in strange and kooky occurrences, acting as an off-brand pair of Ghostbusters. Sypha was particularly into mysteries and lore dealing with night creatures of old times.
“Such as?” you sipped your drink cautiously as you eyed her over the rim of your mug. “Late rent payments?” Your joke didn’t land.
Sypha’s eyes narrowed. “Have you ever seen your landlord?”
“Which one?”
“The old rich one, not the trust fund kid.” Trevor interjected sharply.
You swallowed hard. Now that you traced your memory back, you never met nor had you ever seen Mr. Vlad. You remembered seeing an old family portrait somewhere around Adrian’s office, but the faces were blurry when you tried to form faces.
“No,” you answered slowly. Sypha and Trevor glanced at each other without turning their heads. “Why does it matter, anyways? What’s going on?”
Sypha fell back into the booth seat, arms crossed as a thoughtful gaze crossed her features. “How do I explain this delicately? Not that you would believe me, you’re always the realist in situations like these…”
“Hey now--”
“We have a suspicion that your fancy elites are vampires.”
You snorted and rolled your eyes. Sypha shook her hands at you desperately. “Yes, this time it’s true!”
The waitress came back from the kitchen with quiet steps, tray in hand full of steaming hot food. “Well, aren’t the one percent always vampires to you?” you offered in half-jest, half-false concern as you helped the waitress disperse the meals around the table. “They’re lizards--no, sorry a reptilian society that feed off human sacrifice and the blood of virgins.”
Trevor, never lifting his cold gaze off you, lifted his fork and poked it in your direction. “Hey, wiseass.”
You glanced at him. He twirled the utensil between his fingers. “Where do you think people get this shit from, mm? These stories gotta come from somewhere, no?” His fork stabbed into his eggs and sausages, the yolk splurting from the plate onto your fingers.
“Spare me the dramatics,” you replied, reaching for a napkin. “Just because your brain doesn’t possess creativity and ingenuity like others doesn’t mean legends and mythology stem from true sources.”
Everyone was too hungry to continue chattering, but you could tell the topic was heavy on each other’s tongues as you all dug into the delicious breakfast. Trevor sent you sharp glances every once in a while, but Sypha didn’t seem too triggered by the tension around the table. As a law student, she was good at listening and taking in information and then stabbing you with your own words. You could only anticipate what her input was.
She patted the corner of her mouth with a folded napkin. “While I’m not going to deny Trevor’s lack of creative storytelling, he does have a point. Every story humans made up was inspired by some real life event they experienced in order to come up with such material.”
“I agree.” you nodded as you washed down the remains of your breakfast with your drink. “The Greeks and Romans were excellent with their myths of gods and titans.”
“Not just them,” Sypha’s eyes lit up. “Macedonians, Ancient Sumerians, the Japanese, the Chinese, Aboriginals, Native Americans, the Russians--”
“Got it.”
“What I’m saying is,” She concluded with a sigh. “Is that people retell what they experience. And that’s what we have been trying to tell you for so long. Why do you think we hang out in this area?”
You scrunched your brows and titled your head. “Because you guys are my friends and you love to spend time with me?”
She smiled, and Trevor harrumphed. “Yeeeees, but! We also sense something odd here. The energy is off.”
You folded your napkin over your plate and crossed the utensils as you sat back. Yeah, the area was definitely ‘spooky’ and not your ideal neighborhood for a typical suburban area, but for a broke college student, it was a steal in your eyes. You’d entertain them for now, though. “Right, you mentioned that. What was it that you both sensed? Something about a figure of darkness?”
“Yes.”
You inhaled, trying not to sound exasperated. “And you want me to believe that this ‘figure of darkness’ is my landlord?”
“That, and his bastard son,” Trevor interjected rather rudely. You turned to him.
“Is there history between you and this family?” You waved your mug as your arms opened, remains of your drink sloshing around. “Seriously, dude, what am I missing here?”
He wrinkled his nose at you, then turned away, crossing his arms on the table. “Dunno. The guy rubs me the wrong way. He’s not normal.”
You agreed in a way. Adrian was like a cold spot in the room. You definitely didn’t want to cross him and he didn’t look too friendly, no matter how approachable your advances were. Still, seeing the big tough Trevor getting unnerved by the slim, handsome landlord of yours was something that tickled your pickle in all the right ways.
You looked down into your mug, a smile creeping onto your face, though you tried not to let it show. “Sounds like you might have feelings for him, Treffy.” Sypha chuckled into her knuckles as Trevor whipped his head around to glare at you. His cheeks burned a bit, though you couldn’t tell if it was from anger or embarrassment.
Maybe both.
“Piss off,” he stood suddenly and shuffled his way over Sypha to slink out of the booth clumsily. Your eyes followed his buff figure clamber down the aisle to shove his way into the bathroom near the swinging doors of the kitchen. You turned back to Sypha, who had a knowing look in her eye.
“Well?”
“Adrian Ţepeş studied in the same charter school as him when they were younger.” Sypha helpfully provided with amusement lining her voice. Obviously, the story was much more intricate than she was letting on, but Trevor probably swore her to secrecy. “They were partnered by teachers to do almost everything.”
You raised a brow. Trevor, the lone wolf, getting along with someone in school projects? Sounded like an unlikely miracle. “Oh. I didn’t know they were friends.”
Sypha barked out a laugh, making you flinch. “Friends? Sworn enemies didn’t try to sabotage each other as much as they did.”
You chuckled, prideful in the knowledge that your hunch was correct. “However did they manage to pass?”
“Eh, they were both from prestigious families.” She shrugged. “You can’t really afford to be the family failure in a situation like that. Old money tends to be very rigorous like that.”
Old money. Now that she mentioned it, you remembered when Adrian had mentioned that his father owned a surplus of buildings in the area. Maybe he wasn’t letting on the real career his father had and used the apartment complexes as a coverup. You mulled over Syphaa’s words, worried that her incessant obsession with the ‘creepy’ stuff was now getting to your head.
You just decided to roll with it. “So, what’s with the Ţepeş family that throws you off so badly?” you blurted out. “Is there something shady going on with them? Crimes? Mafia?”
Sypha’s smile slowly disappeared as her hands stilled around her cup. You eyed her movements, now strained and anxious. It bothered you how a few moments ago when she spoke about young Adrian and Trevor in school, she was giddy and relaxed. But now that the Ţepeş family alone stood as a topic, she became stiff and closed off.
“You don’t have to say if it bothers you, Syph.” you attempted to distill her fears, but she shook her head. She might have known sensitive information that you now coerced her into revealing. Was she afraid she was in danger?
“No, no.” She urged. She traced her cup’s rim with a slender finger. “It’s his father.”
Mr. Vlad?
Almost like reading your mind, Sypha nodded twice. “Yeah. Even Trevor’s never seen the guy and he gets around, you know? No one has ever seen Vlad Ţepeş in the daylight. And when there are reports of seeing him…it’s not a safe sighting, let’s just say.”
What the fuck does that mean?
You heard a sharp whistle in your ears as you processed the information. “What about Adrian himself?” He had windows in his office and you had definitely seen him during daylight hours when you passed him in the lobby.
Sypha’s eyes finally met yours. “Have you ever heard of a dhampir?”