Aphrodite

With a groggy and confused sensation, Rachel opened her eyes gradually. The warmth and cosiness of the bed and the plush pillows enveloping her becoming more apparent as she gained consciousness.

Rachel let out a deep sigh, surprised to feel something weighing her down. Beside her, Darius was sleep, his arm over her.

Rachel attempted to free herself, only to realise that her body felt sluggish and heavy, as though she had been asleep for days. Her stomach grumbled, reminding her of her prolonged hunger. She tried to sit up, but her limbs felt weak and unresponsive.

Taking a deep breath, Rachel grasped Darius’ hand, endeavouring to remove it from her body gently. However, he groaned and stirred, his grip on her waist tightening. His warm and sturdy form pressed against hers, his muscles flexing as he stretched.

“Looks like someone’s up,” he mumbled, his voice husky and groggy from sleep.

“I’m starving.” As soon as he released her, she attempted to sit up, but he caught her arm and pulled her back down onto the bed. “You know, I don’t remember inviting you to my bed.”

“I wasn’t invited,” he said smugly, leaning his nose into her neck. “You smell amazing.” Darius gave her a tight squeeze before finally releasing her from his grip.

Rachel rose from bed, only to be hit by a wave of dizziness. She sat back down quickly, shutting her eyes until the feeling passed.

Feeling Darius’s touch on her leg, she gave him a stern look in response.

Noticing the time, she panicked, “Oh no, is it really Tuesday? I’m late!” She scrambled to locate her phone, pressed for time.

“You’ve been getting weaker, sleeping more.”

“Are you exploiting my weakness?” Rachel asked, wary.

“No. Of course not. I brought you back and put you straight to bed. I was concerned about you, and you smelled amazing,” he admitted with a sheepish grin. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay, so I stayed with you a bit before running out. Came back, found you still out, and might’ve accidentally fallen asleep again. Honestly, I was just relieved to see you wake up; I was starting to get concerned.”

“I’ve been asleep that long? You stayed with me... twice?” Rachel tried to piece together the timeline.

Darius sighed, a hand running through his hair. “I didn’t mean to upset you. My priority was your safety. But it’s Vlad I’m really worried about now. He’s not built like us, and this could be hitting him hard. I just wish you’d see reason.”

Standing her ground, Rachel countered, “Why do you think I’m just going to give everything to you as if it’s nothing? I have more respect for myself than you seem to think.”

Darius looked puzzled, sitting up. “I’m offering myself to you. Why can’t it be reciprocal?”

“I told you, I’m not ready. You can’t just want something and expect it to happen. I barely know you. Where’s my phone?”

“You might not see it, but you don’t really have a choice here. This standoff is harming both of you,” he argued.

Rachel’s response was a scoff. Despite what Vlad might have done, she felt no obligation to reciprocate, firmly believing in her autonomy.

“So it’s all for him, isn’t it? It was never really about helping me. He can’t breach my shield, so you’re the workaround. No wonder you’re so persistent,” Rachel accused.

“Your phone’s on the coffee table,” Darius replied, dismissive of her accusation.

Rachel discovered a flood of missed calls and messages from Lindon on her phone, the tone escalating from concern to frustration. “This is just perfect,” she grumbled, moving to the kitchen. Hunger pangs led her to snatch an overripe apple from a bowl, ignoring its less-than-ideal state.

As she bit into the apple, she abruptly bumped into Darius. Irritated, she looked up at him, pulling the apple away. “What now? Didn’t you hear me earlier?” she asked.

“What’s wrong with you? You’re an Aphrodite. Why do you care about being a slave to these humans?”

“Before the weekend, I was one of these humans. I need money to live. I need this job. Don’t you work?”

“I serve the king and Vlad,” he stated.

“Serve?” she echoed, sceptical.

“We are warriors. We have lived long lives and accumulated enough wealth throughout the centuries. Humans are dangerous. You should not continue to slave away at their establishments.”

“I’m not a slave. That job was my choice. I...” Memories of her last presentation, and the client’s disappointment, flashed through her mind. “I enjoy it,” she concluded softly.

“Like you enjoy painting?”

“How did you…?”

“The paintings on your wall smell fresh. A bit of digging, and I found some paint. I also know about the exhibition.”

“You went through my things? Listen, I’m late for work.”

“You don’t need that job. Going back there could be risky. With the science humans have now, it’s dangerous for us if they find out what you really are.”

“You can’t compel me to stay with you two vampires. I have a life. I’m not going to change things just because I’m a little bit different.”

Rachel braced herself and called Lindon, his angry voice echoing through the phone. Darius watched, amusement clear in his smirk and the flash of his fangs.

After hanging up, Rachel brushed past Darius, eager to start her day and distance herself from recent events. “I need to get ready. You should go.”

Yet, Darius followed her, questioning, “Why do you let the humans treat you this way?”

“It’s called having a job and paying bills,” she snapped back, throwing clothes onto the bed and confronting him with a mix of defiance and irritation.

“And you are okay knowing you will go to work for this thing, this human, to treat you that way?”

“I don’t have a lot of options right now.”

“Has this human actually done anything for you?”

Exasperated, she stripped off her top and quickly changed into a fresh white sleeveless turtleneck. “He’s my boss; he pays me. Now, would you please leave?”

“I’m warning you, humans are dangerous. You should be careful not to let them know you’re a creature.”

Throwing up her hands in resignation, she replied, “I get it, the creature world is some serious underground business. Heard you loud and clear.”

Darius lingered at the door. “Remember, if this human troubles you, your powers can protect you.”

But without understanding her own potential, what could she do? Rachel knew she was out of her depth. “I can’t even remove the bond with Vlad. What could I possibly do to my dipshit boss?”

He offered a simple suggestion with a shrug. “You’re clearly angry at your boss. Just touch him while thinking about your purple lights. If one transfers to him, that might do the trick.”

His advice seemed straightforward, yet for Rachel, who was just discovering this world, everything felt overwhelming and complex.

“The idea of using my powers for love and lust with Lindon makes me sick,” Rachel confessed, clearly disgusted at the thought.

Darius smiled at her reaction. “Aphrodites once commanded the loyalty of entire cities,” he reminded her, pointing out the vast potential of her powers.

Thrust into an unfamiliar realm, Rachel felt as though she’d been dropped from a plane, left to navigate her parachute solo. “Wow, if I decode this one, maybe I can be the Aphrodite of my workplace.”

“Sounds like a joke now, but there must be a reason the Abaddon is after you.”

****

Rachel hurried past the cubicles, trying to avoid being seen by her colleagues. She was relieved that Beth wasn’t at the front desk, and most of her co-workers were in meetings. The floor was quiet, except for the repetitive sound of an assistant answering phone calls.

She settled her bag on her desk and powered up her laptop. Yet, before she could even start her day, the very voice she’d hoped to dodge until later found her. She glanced up to see him making his way over, grabbing a chair from the next cubicle.

“Rachel,” Lindon began with a tone that was all too formal, “I think we need to talk.”

“I’m sorry, Lindon. I’ve been under the weather,” she responded, her excuse sounding feeble even to her ears.

He appeared unconvinced. “The final draft was due Sunday night, and I still haven’t seen it.”

“I wasn’t feeling well. I was in the hospital. I didn’t have my phone.” Lying didn’t feel good, but there was a smug look on his face she couldn’t stand.

He clasped his hands together, nodding. “What was the diagnosis? Do you have a medical certificate to show for it?”

Rachel clenched her jaw, fighting back her growing anger. “Fuck Lindon, I’ll get the certificate today.”

Lindon raised his hand, signaling her to calm down. “Whoa, no need to use that type of language. Is everything okay, Rachel?”

His insincere concern was infuriating. It seemed to her that he was just another corporate predator, eager to drain another worker of their vitality. “Why didn’t you request an extension from the client? I know them. They would have agreed.”

“Do you feel you weren’t able to perform?”

Rachel tuned out Lindon’s justifications for his poor leadership. He always blamed his team, dodging accountability for his errors. The real problem was his unrealistic expectations, not her commitment. A good manager would’ve been understanding during her illness, not overwhelming her with extra tasks and impossible timelines.

“Why don’t you fucking work all weekend next time instead of making your team do it?” Rachel snapped, losing control of her temper.

Lindon’s face stayed impassive, yet his voice became grave. “Rachel, it seems we need to have a conversation with human resources.”

“About what, Lindon? I did my job, and I put together a fucking good pitch. You even validated it. They wanted a different perspective and you set a ridiculous deadline, and now you think you’ve got a case against me because I can’t prove I was sick on my fucking weekend?”

Rachel’s words struck a chord, and she watched with a hint of satisfaction as Lindon’s cool demeanour slipped, his cheeks colouring. He cleared his throat, attempting to regain control. “Let’s keep our voices down, Rachel. We’re not alone here.”

She folded her arms, noting with a silent triumph the attention they were attracting. “Oh, you don’t want them to hear me standing up for myself?”

Lindon dismissed her with a terse, “Don’t be ridiculous.” Rising from his seat, he surveyed the office. “Can you complete the revisions by tomorrow?”

“You want me to pull an all-nighter?” She chuckled. He wasn’t going to change. He was a prick who used his team to further his position. “Lindon, listen, I’m sorry. Sit down, let’s talk about what’s achievable.”

He glanced around the office warily before sitting back down, arms crossed. “By tomorrow morning?”

“Friday,” she proposed, softly touching his elbow to soften him up.

He recoiled slightly. “Friday? It’s only Tuesday; that’s too late.”

“Friday is reasonable,” she insisted, attempting to grasp his hand, aiming to shift his focus.

“Tomorrow morning,” he insisted, not budging.

Trying a different tactic, she asked, “Can you explain what’s needed? Walk me through it?” Meanwhile, she focused on bringing her purple lights to the surface.

Lindon hesitated, thrown off. “We need to... what are you doing?”

Meeting his gaze, she concentrated on her desire for him to relent. “I need your help, Lindon.”

“I’m… trying to help you. Rachel, what you need to do… is…” He peered intently into her eyes.

“Lindon? Are you okay?”

His demeanour changed, the arrogance and control fading. “You look different today.”

“Different?” Her curiosity spiked, uncertain if this alteration in his behaviour was a result of her abilities or merely an act.

“You look beautiful.”

Reacting to his compliment, she withdrew her hand, a wave of disgust washing over her. “Oh God, Lindon,” she whispered. Yet, just as she was about to turn away, a tiny purple light caught her eye, trailing down his arm.

“Lindon, can I count on your help?” she asked, locking eyes with him again.

He responded with a nod. “Of course, I will,” he said, his voice gentle. “Whatever you need, I’m here for you.”

“I need you to do this revised pitch. I need you to do it by tomorrow. Can you do that? For me?”

His smile was authentic, warming. “Tomorrow, for you,” he promised. The moment felt almost dreamlike, making her question if this was truly the same Lindon she knew.

“Can we keep this just between us?”

“For you,” he responded, his hand moving to caress her cheek.

Instantly, she knocked his hand away. “No touching. We’re at work. Now, please leave. And remember, not a word about my being late.”

He agreed with a nod, rising to leave. As he headed to his office, there was a look of bewilderment on his face; he scratched his head, puzzled by the turn of events.

Watching him go, she allowed herself a quiet laugh, marvelling at her success. But she was aware that vigilance was key; any slip-up could unravel everything. For the moment, though, she allowed herself a moment of satisfaction, already thinking ahead to her next steps.

****

Rachel decided to leave work early, feeling the toll of her essence deprivation. Struggling to stay awake at her desk, not even the multiple coffees Beth provided could fend off her fatigue.

Intrigued by her newfound powers, she had strolled by Lindon’s office a few times, noting his intense focus on the computer, fingers flying over the keyboard. It appeared her influence had been effective; he was genuinely working on the pitch revisions.

Stepping off the train, Rachel savoured the cool breeze, a respite from the day’s heat. Yet, the pleasant weather did little to clear the turmoil inside her. Everything about her—her identity, her life—was changing, leaving her to question who she truly was.

With each step home, she pondered her future, the implications of her newfound powers. Would they be a blessing or a curse?

Reflecting on the moment Darius took her blood, regret and suspicion clouded her thoughts. The nagging suspicion that it was all for control, to manipulate her, wouldn’t leave her. Feeling isolated, she longed for someone to guide her through this new reality, yet found herself utterly alone, without an ally in this unfamiliar world of creatures.

Rachel’s return to her quiet, red brick apartment complex was unsettling; the usually bustling streets were eerily silent. Inside, she quickly checked her mail, feeling an inexplicable unease as if eyes were tracking her every move. This discomfort intensified when she found her apartment door slightly open, her pulse quickening with fear as she scanned the shadowy hallway for any sign of an intruder.

Debating her next move, she pondered calling the police, yet hesitated, wondering if it might just be another of Darius’s antics.

The door creaked loudly as she nudged it open, betraying her entrance to anyone inside. She cautiously moved forward, bracing for what she might find.

Yet, unexpectedly, it was Vlad lounging casually on her sofa, looking exactly as he had the last time they met—same clothes, sleeves rolled up, his hair unkempt, and his white shirt wrinkled.

Hand on her chest, she blurted out, “What the hell are you doing here?” The door slammed shut behind her. “How did you find my place?”

“You haven’t fixed our little problem.”

Her frustration mounting, she snapped, “I already told you, I don’t know how.”

“I have duties, Aphrodite.”

Tossing her bag onto the kitchen counter, she retorted, “Well, good for you, blood sucker. I’m too fucking tired for this. Just leave, please.”

Vlad leaned in, his tone serious, “Aphrodite, I’m tired as well. Myus mentioned our bond runs deep. Your reluctance to replenish your essence affects us both.”

“He hurt me. I don’t trust him.”

“You’re new to our world, while he’s ancient, predating even my king. He’s a trusted advisor.” Rising, he added pointedly, “I suppose being told you were special made you this self-centred.”

“Stop spying on me,” she shot back at Vlad.

Vlad’s anger mirrored hers, a curious effect likely intensified by their bond, linking and magnifying their emotions.

“You never had the right to bond with me. But as long as this bond exists, I’ll do everything in my power to understand what and who you are. I can’t fulfil my duties to this realm because I am weakened by this bond.”

“What duties would those be? Eat humans?”

He moved closer, a cold edge to his voice. “Your defiance only fuels my resolve.” His eyes darkened to a pitch black, his gaze predatory, reminiscent of a wolf eyeing its prey.

“Why are you here?” she asked, edging toward the door.

“I’m hungry, Aphrodite.” Flaring his nostrils, he stepped closer, stopping just shy of her.

“I need... my shield,” she muttered, her eyes darting around for any form of defence, yet only her shield seemed viable against his proximity. She retreated as he moved forward, his gaze ignited with rage. Trapped against the brick wall, her heart raced, fear escalating.

“You’ve left me in a very difficult position. I feed and I feed, and there’s no satisfaction. I’m getting weaker, and Myus tells me it’s all because of you. If you will not feed, then I will make you,” he declared, his intentions clear and dangerous.

She knew he wasn’t bluffing, fear gripping her at the thought of his next move. Using her shield might prompt him to harm someone else. Desperate, she attempted to appeal to his reason.

“Please, let’s not go down this path,” she pleaded, her voice quivering. “I’m begging you.”

He moved swiftly, seizing her arm. Flames enveloped his hand, not even her shield could stop him. He yanked her from her apartment, his hand charring visibly.

The acrid scent of singed skin filled the air as Vlad forced her out. Even diminished, his strength was formidable; he hauled her through the hallway and down the stairs, deaf to her pleas.

On the street, Vlad headed straight for a black sedan parked illegally outside her building. He yanked open the door, his grip on her loosening.

“Get in the car!” he snarled, roughly pushing her inside before slamming the door. She winced, the force of his shove sending her tumbling into the seat.

As Vlad made his way to the driver’s side, smoke billowed from his hand. Despite understanding his pain, she couldn’t suppress a feeling of gratification seeing him endure suffering.

Once he settled behind the wheel, she eyed his scorched hand, caught between fear and disgust. Aware of the threat he posed, she was determined not to let him win.

As the car surged forward with Vlad’s forceful acceleration, she clutched the door, steadying herself against the swift turn.

“Where are you taking me?”

“We are going to fix this little problem.” Vlad answered, his voice low and menacing.

The car took another sharp turn, prompting her to brace against the sudden movement

“I hurt you,” she whispered, her words tinged with remorse. Through their connection, she was acutely aware of Vlad’s suffering.

“For a creature that has a reputation of bringing people love, you’ve done nothing but bring me pain.”

Beside him, the bond between them was palpable, his pain and turmoil intensifying her feelings of guilt. Already weakened by essence deprivation, the conflict between them compounded her exhaustion. She summoned all her strength to keep her eyes open in the face of overwhelming fatigue, yet eventually, the effort proved too great, and she surrendered to the pull of sleep.