Chapter 3: Blood Calls to Blood
Hotel DuMort rises in the afternoon sun like a gothic nightmare, its windows blacked out against natural light, its entrance carved with Latin warnings that most passersby can't read. Dexter stands across the street, camera hanging around his neck like a talisman, studying the building that housed so much pain in the show he once watched.
Vampire headquarters. Camille's domain, though she's absent now—somewhere in Europe, playing politics while her clan fractures in her wake. In the original timeline, Simon gets kidnapped here in weeks. But timelines are fluid things, and I'm already changing them just by existing.
His vampire senses—still new, still overwhelming—paint the city in hypercolor detail. Every heartbeat within three blocks drums against his consciousness. The scent of spilled coffee from a café mingles with car exhaust and something metallic that makes his teeth ache. Blood. Always blood, calling to instincts he never asked for.
[SPECIES ENERGY: VITALITY 70/100]
[WARNING: BLOOD CONSUMPTION REQUIRED WITHIN 48 HOURS]
The system interface pulses softly in his peripheral vision, a constant reminder that he's no longer entirely human. The contract with Raphael changed him, gave him abilities he desperately needed, but at a cost he's still calculating.
Three months ago I was dying of cancer. Now I'm something between human and vampire, hunting through supernatural politics to prevent disasters only I can see coming. The irony isn't lost on me.
He crosses the street, each step carrying him deeper into territory where his human heartbeat marks him as prey. The hotel's door stands slightly ajar, revealing shadows that seem to move independently of any light source. Voices drift from within—heated, speaking in rapid Spanish punctuated by English curse words.
Raphael Santiago. Fifteen years old forever, carrying the weight of clan leadership he never wanted. In the show, he was sympathetic—a good vampire trying to reform a corrupt system. But here, about to interrupt his political maneuvering, he's just dangerous.
Dexter pushes through the door without knocking.
The conversation stops instantly. Seven vampires turn toward him with predatory synchronization, eyes reflecting the dim interior light like mirrors. The hotel lobby reeks of old blood and older secrets, its Victorian furniture arranged around a space that has seen too much death.
"Well," says a vampire with silver-streaked hair, voice carrying centuries of amusement. "Dinner has arrived."
"Wait," Dexter says, raising his hands in what he hopes looks like surrender rather than fear. "I'm here to see Raphael Santiago. About Camille Belcourt's faction and the problems she's creating from a distance."
The vampires exchange glances loaded with meaning. Several hands move to concealed weapons. One woman—barely twenty when she was turned, now carrying decades of hunger in her dark eyes—takes a step forward.
"How," she asks quietly, "does a mundane know those names?"
Because I watched your lives play out on a TV screen. Because I know Raphael struggles with faith and leadership. Because I know Camille's beauty hides centuries of manipulation. Because I died in another world and woke up in yours with knowledge I can't explain and a curse that won't let me share it properly.
"Research," Dexter manages. "I document the supernatural community. Take photographs. Study social structures."
The lie tastes like ash, but it's close enough to truth that his curse doesn't trigger. He raises his camera slowly, deliberately, letting them see his movements. The flash is already positioned wrong—angled toward the wall instead of their faces, a detail only someone who understood vampire physiology would think to adjust.
"Interesting," says a new voice from the stairs.
Raphael Santiago descends like darkness given form, each step precisely placed, shoulders carrying authority despite his apparent youth. He's exactly as the show depicted him: beautiful in the inhuman way of all vampires, but with something gentler in his eyes. Religious medals catch the light at his throat, silver burning against vampire skin in a constant reminder of faith at war with nature.
He wears his contradictions openly. Vampire who still believes in God. Killer who leads through mercy. Teenager carrying centuries of responsibility. In the show, I admired him. Here, studying me with those knowing eyes, he's terrifying in ways television never captured.
"You know my name," Raphael observes, voice carrying just a hint of accent. "You mention Camille as if you understand clan politics. And you position your camera to avoid blinding vampires." His eyes narrow. "What are you?"
The other vampires shift, recognizing their leader's interest. Tension coils through the room like smoke, ready to explode into violence at the smallest provocation.
This is it. The moment where I either gain an ally or become a corpse. Everything depends on convincing him I'm useful without revealing I'm impossible.
"Someone who knows things," Dexter says carefully. "About threats. About opportunities. About what happens when leadership changes hands in supernatural communities."
"Elaborate."
Dexter looks around the room, counting exits, calculating odds. Seven vampires plus Raphael. Enhanced speed and strength versus his newfound vampire senses and desperate knowledge of future events.
"The wheel of fortune turns, and the blood queen falls—YOU will lead them when vanilla smells like betrayal!"
The words explode from his throat, mangled by the curse but carrying enough truth to make Raphael's eyes widen slightly. Camille—blonde, beautiful, dangerous Camille—would indeed fall. Raphael would indeed rise to lead the New York clan. And betrayal would be vanilla-scented because...
Because Valentine Morgenstern uses vanilla cologne. Because the Circle and vampire politics will intersect in ways that destroy everything. Because I can see the connections even when I can't speak them clearly.
"Interesting prophecy," Raphael says quietly. "Santiago, we need to talk. Privately."
POV: Raphael Santiago
The private chamber behind the hotel bar holds more of Raphael's personality than he usually allows others to see. Religious iconography covers every wall—crucifixes, saints, Virgin Mary candles burning despite their silver content making his skin crawl. This is his sanctuary and his torment, the place where he maintains faith despite becoming everything his religion teaches him to fear.
This mundane knows too much. Mentions Camille by name, understands clan dynamics, speaks in riddles that almost make sense. He's either Circle—unlikely, given his apparent terror—or something else entirely.
"Sit," Raphael commands, gesturing to a chair positioned where the candlelight will illuminate the stranger's face completely.
The photographer—Dexter, according to the identification in his wallet—settles into the chair with careful movements. His heterochromatic eyes dart between the religious symbols, and Raphael catches something unexpected: understanding rather than fear. Most people see contradiction in his faith. This man sees pain.
He recognizes what this room represents. The constant battle between what I am and what I believe. That level of insight doesn't come from casual observation.
"How do you know about Camille's absence?" Raphael asks, keeping his voice level despite the hunger that whispers at the edges of his consciousness. The stranger's heartbeat calls to predatory instincts Raphael has spent decades learning to control.
"I document supernatural communities," Dexter replies, hands steady despite the obvious fear. "Patterns of behavior. Political structures. Changes in leadership dynamics."
"And what patterns do you see in my clan?"
"Fractures. Old loyalists who remember Camille's strength versus new voices who want reform. You're caught between them, trying to lead through consensus when decisive action might be necessary."
Accurate. Uncomfortably so. The kind of insight that takes months of observation or...
"You speak as if you know what's coming," Raphael observes. "Your 'prophecy' suggested specific timeline changes."
Dexter's pulse spikes, but his expression remains controlled. "I understand historical patterns. Power transitions follow predictable arcs."
Lies wrapped in truth. He knows something specific, something he can't or won't share directly. But the desperation in his voice when he spoke about betrayal—that was real.
"What do you want?" Raphael asks finally.
"Alliance. Partnership. A chance to prove myself useful to the vampire community in exchange for protection and knowledge."
The request hangs in the air between them. Raphael studies the mortal's face, reading micro-expressions with vampiric precision. Fear, yes, but also determination. Desperation wrapped around core strength. And something else—grief, old and deep, like someone who has lost everything once before.
He's running from something. Or toward something. Either way, he's willing to risk death by vampire to get it.
"I offer this," Raphael says slowly. "Information about threats to the clan in exchange for knowledge about surviving in our world. But it requires blood oath. Formal contract. Are you prepared for that level of commitment?"
The stranger's eyes widen slightly. "Blood oath?"
"Binding. Permanent until one of us chooses to break it. You would gain certain... advantages. But also responsibilities. And limitations."
He should refuse. Should run. Smart mundanes don't bind themselves to vampires. We're predators wearing human faces, and our gifts always come with prices.
But Dexter nods slowly. "I accept."
POV: Dexter Hale
He's offering a contract. An actual system contract, not just vampire politics. This is what I came here for, but now that the moment has arrived, I'm terrified. What if it changes me too much? What if I lose myself in vampire instincts? What if the cure becomes worse than the disease?
[CONTRACT OFFERED: INDIVIDUAL BOND WITH RAPHAEL SANTIAGO]
[TYPE: VAMPIRE CONTRACT - LEVEL 1]
[ABILITIES UNLOCKED: ENHANCED NIGHT VISION (PASSIVE), BLOOD HEALING (ACTIVE)]
[REQUIREMENTS: BLOOD OATH, LOYALTY TO CONTRACTED VAMPIRE]
[WARNING: VAMPIRIC WEAKNESSES PARTIALLY SHARED DURING ABILITY USE]
[ACCEPT CONTRACT? Y/N]
The interface hovers in my vision, invisible to Raphael but burning with possibility. This is what the system was designed for—supernatural bonds that grant power at the cost of humanity. My first real contract, my first step into becoming something other than purely human.
I accept.
[CONTRACT ACCEPTED]
[INITIATING BLOOD OATH PROTOCOL]
Raphael produces a ceremonial blade from somewhere within his jacket—silver-edged, inscribed with symbols that hurt to look at directly. "Give me your wrist."
I extend my arm, watching as he positions the blade with practiced precision. The cut burns like ice and fire combined, blood welling up dark and rich in the candlelight.
"Speak these words," Raphael commands, and suddenly my mind fills with language I don't recognize—ancient Aramaic syllables flowing through my consciousness like water. "By blood given and blood received, I bind myself to clan Santiago. By night shared and night embraced, I offer service for knowledge. By trust given and trust earned, I join the shadow that walks between worlds."
The words pour from my mouth in perfect pronunciation despite never having heard them before. As I speak, Raphael leans forward, fangs extending with predatory elegance. The pain when they pierce my wrist is sharp and immediate, followed by something else entirely.
Power floods through me like electric current, cold and precise and utterly inhuman. My vision expands beyond normal human limits—I can see individual dust motes floating in the candlelight, make out details in shadows that should be invisible, process visual information with vampiric efficiency. Sounds sharpen to supernatural clarity: heartbeats from multiple floors away, conversations happening on the street outside, the subtle whisper of air through century-old walls.
Smell becomes overwhelming—the copper tang of my own blood, the cold scent of ancient stone, religious candle wax, and underneath it all, the distinctive predatory musk that marks every space vampires call home.
Too much. Way too much sensory input. How do vampires function with this level of perception? Every smell, every sound, every visual detail competing for attention simultaneously.
When Raphael releases my wrist, I collapse backward into the chair, overwhelmed by sensory overload. The world has become too bright, too loud, too detailed for human consciousness to process. I taste blood on my lips—my own blood, transformed by whatever power flows through vampire contracts.
Raphael catches me as I start to slide sideways, vampire speed allowing him to move faster than my enhanced senses can track. For a moment we're frozen—predator and prey, contractor and contracted, bound by power neither of us fully understands.
"Welcome to the night," he whispers, voice carrying new harmonics I can hear with vampiric ears.
[CONTRACT ESTABLISHED: RAPHAEL SANTIAGO - BOND LEVEL 1]
[SPECIES ENERGY UNLOCKED: VITALITY 100/100]
[ABILITIES ACTIVE: ENHANCED NIGHT VISION (PASSIVE), BLOOD HEALING (ACTIVE - COSTS 30 VITALITY, RESTORES 20 HP)]
[VAMPIRE AFFINITY: 30→40 (NEUTRAL THRESHOLD)]
[QUEST CHAIN UNLOCKED: "CAMILLE'S SHADOW - INVESTIGATE VAMPIRE DISSIDENTS" (PART 1 OF 5)]
The system interface floods with new information, tracking resources I never knew I had, displaying abilities that feel both foreign and familiar. I'm still human—mostly—but something fundamental has changed. Added. Enhanced.
I can feel his emotions through the bond. Raphael's protective instincts, his hunger held in careful check, his genuine concern for my wellbeing despite having known me for less than an hour. The contract created connection deeper than words, binding us through supernatural forces I'm only beginning to understand.
"How do you feel?" Raphael asks, releasing me slowly to ensure I can support myself.
"Different," I manage, voice rough with the taste of blood. "Like everything is too loud and too bright and too much."
"It takes time to adjust to enhanced senses. Days, sometimes weeks, for the human mind to properly filter vampiric perception."
But I don't have days or weeks. The timeline is accelerating, Camille's forces are already moving, and somewhere in this city, plans are forming that will put Simon Lewis directly in the path of vampire politics. I need to adapt quickly, or the power Raphael just gave me won't matter.
"I need to go," I say, struggling to my feet. The room spins slightly, but the enhanced vision is already starting to compensate, processing visual information with inhuman efficiency.
"Are you certain? Most newly contracted need rest after the bonding."
Most newly contracted probably don't have transmigrator knowledge and a system interface demanding they prevent kidnappings while speaking only in riddles. Most newly contracted aren't racing against time to save people who don't know they need saving.
"I'm certain. But Raphael..." I pause at the door, looking back at the vampire who just changed my life. "Thank you. For the chance. For the trust."
"Don't thank me yet," he replies quietly. "Vampire contracts come with prices you haven't discovered. Powers have costs. And the night reveals truths that daylight hides."
+1 CHAPTER AFTER EVERY 3 REVIEWS
MORE POWER STONES == MORE CHAPTERS
To supporting Me in Pateron . PS (One patreon member can make this or any of my fanfic update weekly since some will stop after hiting 20 to 25 chapters.)
Love [ Shadowhunters: A Contract with the Night ]? Unlock More Chapters and Support the Story!
Dive deeper into the world of [ Shadowhunters: A Contract with the Night ] with exclusive access to 24+ chapters on my Patreon, you get more chapters if you ask for more (in few days), plus new fanfic every week! Your support starting at just $6/month helps me keep crafting the stories you love across epic universes like [ In The Witcher With Avatar Powers,In The Vikings With Deja Vu System,Stranger Things Demogorgon Tamer ...].
By joining, you're not just getting more chapters—you're helping me bring new worlds, twists, and adventures to life. Every pledge makes a huge difference!
👉 Join now at patreon.com/TheFinex5 and start reading today!