Chapter 189: An Acceptable Deal

Chapter 189: Chapter 189: An Acceptable Deal

Chapter 189: An Acceptable Deal

During lunch, Vera Sable sat alone in the nurse’s office with a cup of milk tea in one hand.

She looked relaxed enough, lazily sipping through the straw while her other hand traced along the side of the cup. Only the occasional shift in her eyes showed that her thoughts were nowhere near as idle as her posture suggested.

The more of Cyrus Calder’s blood she drank, the clearer the memories carried inside it became.

At first she had only seen scattered fragments.

Later came longer scenes.

The things Cyrus had experienced before coming to Grayhaven, his interactions with the women around him, and the events that had happened after Vera entered his life were gradually becoming easier to piece together.

Naturally, that included memories involving Vera herself.

She had considered using her Bloodborn ability to remove some of those.

If possible, Vera would have happily erased every memory in which she looked particularly pathetic.

If Cyrus no longer remembered those moments, then from her perspective they might as well never have happened.

It would be shamelessly convenient.

More importantly, Cyrus would lose some of the material he used whenever he wanted to annoy her.

Unfortunately, Bloodborn memory theft did not work that precisely.

When a Bloodborn deliberately removed memories, the process started from the oldest accessible memories and worked forward. Vera could not simply choose a specific afternoon from a few days ago and cut it cleanly out.

To reach those recent memories, she would have to consume everything before them.

That sounded terribly boring.

It would be like watching half a movie and suddenly having the screen announce that the story was over.

Vera had no interest in ruining her own entertainment.

Blood tasted better when it came with memories.

That was simply how things should be.

She took another sip of milk tea.

Cyrus’s memory loss was already happening gradually because of the ring, but it remained limited enough that his current life stayed mostly intact.

He had also figured out an important part of the mechanism.

The ring seemed to steal larger portions of memory when he lost consciousness deeply enough.

Bloodborn abilities were more convenient.

They only required a bite and deliberate use of the ability.

Vera had simply chosen not to take memories from Cyrus because watching his situation develop naturally was far more interesting.

Good blood and good entertainment belonged together.

That was the proper Bloodborn experience.

Vera shifted the cup slightly.

Then her attention drifted toward her injured fingertip.

The cut she had made yesterday was now little more than a faint mark.

She had actually noticed the change not long after Cyrus left the nurse’s office.

At first, Vera had wondered whether repeated feeding really had given her a trace of his unusual recovery.

The answer now seemed more complicated.

The accelerated healing appeared to work only when she remained physically close to Cyrus.

Once she left him, her body returned to normal.

That explained the enormous difference between how quickly she recovered inside his apartment and how weak she felt afterward.

Vera frowned.

She could not decide whether that discovery was useful or irritating.

The final bell came soon enough.

Classes ended, and students gradually began leaving St. Alder.

Audra Sloane carefully picked up the small gift box from her desk.

Then, almost on instinct, she looked toward the back corner of senior advisory three.

Cyrus was still there.

Even sitting at the edge of the classroom, he carried the same quiet presence that drew attention without him doing anything at all.

Faye had already left.

With the seat in front of Cyrus empty, Audra had an unobstructed view of him.

Perhaps she stared a little too long.

Before Audra looked away, Cyrus raised his head.

Their eyes met.

Audra held the gift box securely in both hands.

Cyrus noticed.

A subtle movement passed through his expression.

So she really did like it.

That meant buying the fountain pen had been the correct decision.

At the very least, he had not made some obvious social mistake.

Cyrus gave her a small nod.

The motion was so slight that anyone who had not already been watching him closely might have missed it.

Audra did not.

She returned the gesture.

Then she remembered something from earlier, and a faint, complicated emotion crossed her eyes.

She placed the gift carefully into her bag and left the classroom.

At the usual pickup point outside St. Alder, Audra entered the car waiting for her.

The city moved past the window as they drove home.

Her thoughts, however, remained in the classroom.

Cyrus probably liked her.

At least a little.

Otherwise, several things from earlier made less sense.

He had accepted the fork she had already been holding.

He had eaten the cake she could not finish.

He had not shown even the slightest discomfort about either one.

Then again, he had not looked especially affected either.

Audra sometimes wondered whether Cyrus was deliberately pretending not to understand certain implications or whether he was genuinely that slow when it came to relationships.

Could someone really grow up knowing so little about the boundaries between men and women?

She was not completely convinced.

Cyrus had lied to her before.

He was capable of acting innocent when it suited him.

Still, Audra had already punished him for those earlier lies in her own way, so she considered that matter settled.

Now she preferred looking at what he actually did.

Among all the girls at St. Alder, she was the only one who could openly spend long stretches of time alone with him every day.

Even Faye, who sat directly in front of Cyrus, did not have that.

His lunch breaks belonged to Audra.

Maybe Cyrus simply expressed affection quietly.

Perhaps what looked faint from the outside was stronger than he allowed anyone to see.

Audra cared most about what today’s small test had shown her.

To her, their relationship had reached a point where someone needed to make the first move.

The class trip this weekend would last two days and one night.

That could be the right opportunity.

If Cyrus’s incomplete memory made him cautious, then she could take the first step herself.

Audra’s eyes became more determined as the familiar Sloane estate came into view.

The moment she entered the living room, however, all thoughts of Cyrus disappeared.

A tall figure was already waiting inside.

Audra stopped.

"Grandpa?"

Warren Sloane turned toward her.

His hair had gone completely white with age, yet nothing else about him looked fragile. Standing close to six and a half feet, with sharp, lively eyes and an energetic posture, he looked far younger than a man in his early sixties had any right to.

Warren laughed loudly.

"It’s my granddaughter’s birthday. Did you really think I’d miss it?"

He spread his arms.

"Happy birthday, Audra."

The surprise broke through her usual composure.

Moisture gathered faintly in her eyes as she walked toward him.

"Welcome home, Grandpa."

Warren laughed again.

After instructing the household staff to prepare a proper dinner, he headed toward the study with Audra.

They had not seen each other for half a year.

There was plenty to talk about.

Audra listened while Warren described the places he had traveled through and occasionally refilled his tea.

She had already spoken with him briefly by phone about the Frostborn village he encountered, but hearing the full story in person revealed much more.

According to Warren, most Frostborn spent their entire lives inside isolated communities.

They rarely involved themselves with outsiders, though they occasionally rescued travelers who became lost near their territory.

The entire bloodline sounded almost completely separated from ordinary human society.

Warren had only found the village because of an accident.

Without that accident, he might have passed through the region and never known anyone lived there.

Audra listened with genuine fascination.

If school did not keep her tied to Grayhaven, she would gladly have traveled with Warren and satisfied her curiosity about rare-bloods firsthand.

With family, her usual restrained tone softened noticeably.

"When are you publishing something about the Frostborn?"

Warren shook his head.

"I’m not publishing anything soon."

Audra tilted her head.

"Why wouldn’t you?"

Warren answered plainly.

"This time was different."

His tone stayed cheerful.

"They saved my life. Without them, I probably would’ve died somewhere nobody would have found me."

Audra’s expression immediately changed.

Warren waved away the concern.

"Because they saved me, they were willing to let me learn about them. They only asked for one thing in return."

"What did they ask?"

"They asked me to keep what I learned private for ten or twenty years."

Warren sounded completely unbothered.

"By then, maybe I won’t be the one writing about them anyway."

He looked toward Audra with obvious affection.

The implication was clear.

Audra answered firmly.

"You’ll still be perfectly healthy by then."

Warren laughed.

He knew exactly how curious his granddaughter was about rare-bloods.

Her age and schoolwork were the main reasons she had not started traveling the world herself.

There would be time for that later.

The future belonged to younger people.

Then Warren seemed to remember something.

"Speaking of rare-bloods, how is that glamourkin ring I gave you working out?"

Later that night, Cyrus left The Full Moon Lounge after finishing his shift.

He walked home alone with two meat buns in hand.

The streets were quiet.

Since nothing demanded his attention, Cyrus mentally reviewed the day while he walked.

Once he reached home, he only needed to compare those memories with his diary, write down anything important, and go to sleep.

Simple.

He had finished one bun and was halfway through the second when something caught his attention.

Cyrus turned.

Vera stood beneath a streetlight with a pleasant smile.

She even raised one hand and waved when he noticed her.

Cyrus’s heartbeat jumped for a second.

Seeing an attractive woman standing alone beneath a streetlight late at night and smiling directly at him would have been alarming enough if he did not know her.

If Vera had been a stranger, Cyrus might have turned around immediately.

He approached with visible annoyance.

"What do you want?"

Vera raised the bag in her other hand.

"What do you think?"

The suppressants.

Then she added, "Unless you’d rather I deliver them inside the lounge while Helena is sitting there."

Cyrus immediately disliked that idea.

"Fine. Thank you."

He reached for the medicine.

Vera pulled it back.

Cyrus looked at her.

She glanced toward the apartment building ahead.

"You’re forgetting something."

Cyrus said nothing.

Instead, he rolled up his sleeve.

The faint marks from the nurse’s office were still visible on his forearm.

Vera shook her head.

Then she stepped closer and touched his shoulder near the base of his neck.

"Not there. I want this spot."

Cyrus rejected the idea immediately.

"That location is too risky."

Vera looked amused.

"We’re standing on the street. I’m not going to drain you unconscious here."

Cyrus believed she was entirely capable of doing exactly that.

Vera apparently read the suspicion in his face.

"Fine. We can compromise."

Her fingertip moved away from his neck and settled farther out along his upper shoulder.

"I won’t bite your neck."

She tapped the safer location.

"But it has to be here."

Cyrus considered it.

If anything went wrong, he would still have enough control to stop her.

Before agreeing, he gave her a warning.

"If drinking my blood causes another problem, go find a doctor."

Vera’s face stiffened.

So that was what he was worried about.

As long as Cyrus took his medication normally, she could drink without worrying.

Did he understand nothing about food safety?

Vera refused to dignify the comment with an answer.

His clothes were light enough that moving the fabric aside took little effort.

Then she leaned in and bit his shoulder.

The motion looked aggressive.

The sensation was not.

The familiar Bloodborn effect spread quickly, replacing the sharp pain with a strange numb pleasure.

Fortunately, Cyrus’s suppressants were working properly tonight.

His thoughts remained clear.

He heard Vera swallowing close to his ear while the gradual loss of blood left his body heavier.

When the edges of his vision began to blur, Cyrus prepared to push her away.

Vera released him first.

She stepped back.

Cyrus shook his head lightly.

His reactions felt slower from the blood loss.

Two familiar red marks remained on his shoulder.

A ridiculous thought crossed his mind.

If every new box of suppressants required Vera to bite him somewhere, was he eventually going to end up covered in matching marks?

Cyrus fixed his clothes.

Vera handed over the medication.

He accepted it.

This arrangement was annoying, but compared with the alternatives, it was still manageable.

Blood in exchange for reliable suppressants.

As long as Vera obeyed clear limits, Cyrus could tolerate that.

Vera cleaned the small trace of blood from her lips.

Satisfaction practically shone from her golden eyes.

"I’ll see you again later."

She waved lightly.

Cyrus still thought there was something fundamentally troublesome about her smile.

Still, Vera had already gotten what she wanted tonight.

Whatever new scheme she invented could wait for another day.

The delay had cost him about ten extra minutes.

Cyrus walked past her and headed toward the apartment entrance.

Then something made him look up.

A figure stood along the third-floor hallway.

Daphne Whitlock was watching from above.

Cyrus had no idea how long she had been there.