The morning sun felt like an accusation. Leo was huddled on the sofa, wrapped in a blanket that did nothing to stop the bone-deep chill that had settled in him since Elara had dropped him there. The images from the alleyway were seared onto the inside of his eyelids: the chittering ghouls, the impossible speed, the blood-red eyes, and the fangs.
Sam and Mike found him like that, staring at nothing.
"Dude, you look like you've seen a ghost," Mike said, nudging him with his foot. "So, what's the deal with the hot goth chick? Did you score?"
Leo's head snapped towards him, his eyes wide and haunted. "She's not a 'hot goth chick', Mike. She's a monster."
Sam, ever the pragmatist, crossed his arms. "Leo, you were in shock. You fell, you hit your head, she helped you home. Your brain is filling in the blanks with stuff from your fantasy novels."
"No," Leo said, his voice raw. "I saw it. I saw her kill them. They weren't human. They turned to dust, Sam. And she… she fed on one of them."
He spent the next hour recounting every detail, his voice shaking but his conviction absolute. He described the impossible speed she used to save him from the truck, the way she disappeared in the alley, the skeletal forms of the ghouls, and the final, terrible transformation. Sam's skepticism slowly eroded under the sheer force of Leo's authentic terror, replaced by a troubled confusion. Mike, on the other hand, was getting excited.
"So she's like, a superhero? A vampire superhero?" Mike's eyes were wide with glee. "Dude, that's awesome! We have to test it! We need a stake, holy water..."
"We are not doing that," Sam cut in, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Okay. Okay, look. There's one way to settle this. One classic, stupid, movie-trope way to know for sure." He looked at Mike. "And I know you have some in the fridge."
Mike's grin was triumphant. "The garlic bread."
Twenty minutes later, the three of them stood outside apartment 2A. It was a pathetic fellowship: Leo, the traumatized witness; Sam, the reluctant scientist; and Mike, the idiot champion, holding a half-eaten loaf of garlic bread from last night's dinner like it was a holy relic.
Leo took a deep, shaky breath and knocked.
The silence that followed stretched for an eternity. Then, the door swung open.
Elara stood there, wearing a simple black t-shirt and grey sweatpants. Her hair was tied back in a messy bun. She was holding a bottle of beer. She looked… normal. Annoyingly, terrifyingly normal.
She took one look at the three of them huddled together and a single, perfect eyebrow arched in amusement.
"Oh," she said, her voice dripping with condescending boredom. "The idiots are here. What do you want?"
Mike, emboldened by his cheesy weapon, took a step forward and thrust the garlic bread out in front of him. "Aha! We know what you are!"
Elara's silver eyes flickered from Mike's determined face down to the offering in his hands. She didn't flinch. She didn't recoil in horror. Instead, her expression shifted to one of mild curiosity. She took a step forward, plucked a piece of the bread from the loaf, and popped it into her mouth.
She chewed thoughtfully for a moment, ignoring the stunned silence of the three boys.
"Hmm," she said, swallowing. "Needs more butter, but not bad. Now that was good bread." She looked at them, completely unfazed. "So, anyways, sit." She gestured with her beer bottle into her apartment. "What do you all want?"
Dumbfounded, they shuffled inside. Her apartment was surprisingly sparse and modern. A sleek, low-profile couch, a glass coffee table, and shelves filled with books in languages Leo couldn't even begin to identify. There were no coffins, no cobwebs, just an air of clean, ancient stillness.
They sat awkwardly on the edge of her couch. Elara leaned against a counter, taking a slow sip of her beer.
Leo finally found his voice. "We… I saw you last night."
"I'm aware," she said dryly. "You have all the subtlety of a collapsing building."
"I thought things like you were just… myths," he murmured, looking at her not with accusation, but with a profound, bewildered awe.
This, finally, seemed to catch her off guard. She tilted her head, her silver eyes studying him intently. A flicker of genuine surprise crossed her features.
"You are not afraid of me?" she asked, her tone softer, laced with true curiosity.
Sam and Mike looked at Leo, expecting him to be terrified. He was. But there was something else, something stronger.
"No," Leo answered, his voice gaining strength. He met her gaze directly. "After all… you saved my life. Twice."
The silence in the room was absolute. Elara stared at him, her mask of cynical detachment seeming to crack. For centuries, she had seen only fear, hatred, and greed in the eyes of those who discovered her nature. They saw a monster, a predator, a thing to be destroyed or used. No one had ever seen a monster and said 'thank you'.
Slowly, for the first time since he had met her, a real smile touched Elara's lips. It was a small, fragile thing, like a winter flower blooming in the snow, but it was genuine. It transformed her face, chasing away the ancient coldness for just a moment.
"Well," she said, the smile lingering in her voice. "That's a first."