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Chapter Three

ISADORA

Eternity Falls looked quite different in the daylight—or rather, what passed for daylight here. A thin mist clung to the surrounding hills, draping the town in a soft gray shroud. It was miserable. And cold. But you know what? It suited my mood after the hellish night I’d had.

I’d never before suffered anything quite so bad as that wretched thing. Coiled springs and lumps poked and prodded me all night.

Of course, that hadn’t compared to the ghosts. The freaking ghosts .

They’d been deceptively quiet for the first half of the night, but the second I’d foolishly settled in for the evening, they’d decided to stage a damn midnight opera, complete with footsteps, howling voices, and flickering lights.

But the true pièce de résistance had come at two in the morning, when my resident toilet demon made its presence known.

It hadn’t physically manifested, but it sure had enjoyed chanting at me in what sounded like an ancient language.

Eventually, it’d switched to English, and from there it’d told me things .

Things I would never repeat to a living soul.

Hell, I hadn’t even known toilet demons were a thing until last night. Two hundred years old and I was still learning.

Thankfully, my roommates had finally settled down around dawn, after successfully wearing themselves out like toddlers collapsing after a sugar crash.

I, however, hadn’t slept a wink. Because who could after all that?

I’d spent the rest of the night curled up in the farthest corner of my room, eyeing the bathroom like the toilet might grow legs and eat me.

I was a vampire. I didn’t even use human facilities! But that demon terrified me more than anything I’d experienced in my eternal existence. And I’d met tax collectors.

Eventually, I’d braved leaving the safety of my corner and decided to take a walk.

At the time, that’d seemed like a better use of my time than cowering like a child, since I hadn’t seen the town yet.

I’d arrived so late last night, then jumped straight into the meeting with Claude.

So far, the only residents I’d met were my ghostly roommates, and they hadn’t exactly rolled out the welcome mat.

I stepped off an uneven curb and onto the main street, hands buried in my coat pockets. My eyes and head throbbed, but thankfully, there was no glaring sun to make things worse. Sunlight might not be lethal to vampires, but it sure did give a girl a migraine after a night of no sleep.

At least the town was quiet. Almost eerily so compared to New Orleans.

The French Quarter was all loud music, street noise, drunk tourists, and parties galore.

That was nothing like here, though. The town was so sleepy I was starting to wonder if I’d stumbled into a Hallmark movie with a heroine on the run from a failed relationship, trying to rebuild her life…

…Oh, wait a second.

I wandered down the street and took in all the closed-up shops.

It was far too early for anything to be open, but that didn’t stop me from seeing things in the windows that I’d never seen before, not even in New Orleans.

Floating teacups spinning lazily in the air, hovering jars that pulsed with magical blue light, and—unless sleep deprivation had finally rotted my brain—a boutique with pastel wigs that were straight-up dancing.

Twirling and bopping along to some music I couldn’t hear.

That was weird, right?

New Orleans had strange things too, but this was strang er .

Then again, I supposed that was one perk to living in a town with absolutely no humans in it.

The locals didn’t have to hide what they were or what they could do.

They could let out their inner magic without fear of exposing our existence.

I shook my head and continued onward, passing a café where two women sat at a table outside the front doors.

They were arguing over something, though I couldn’t tell what.

Something pink and possibly dusted with sugar.

Whatever it was, they both wanted it. Until something floated closer with a tray in hand.

Something translucent and very clearly dead.

Gods, another ghost. I wasn’t sure I could handle that so soon after my previous evening.

The ghost gave a sweeping bow and presented a tray to the arguing ladies. They instantly shut up and both reached for what looked like two cinnamon buns. The ghost-barista smiled, then drifted back inside, clearly content he’d put out that fire.

Okay… Moving on…

The next shop I passed was a clothing store with mannequins dressed in floor-length gowns. They turned slowly on their little platforms, all elegant and serene—until the one on the left froze mid-spin, tilted its head, and shot me a full-on glare.

I blinked.

Pure, concentrated judgment emanated from the inanimate object. That was new.

My attention dropped to my reflection in the window. Yeah, okay, I hardly looked my best in my wrinkled outfit and yesterday’s makeup.

Well, screw you too, Miss Mannequin.

I grinned, flipped her the bird, then continued down the street until I ended up in what had to be the town square.

Since I’d arrived late last night, I hadn’t noticed the strange clock tower planted in the center.

But I certainly noticed it now. The whole thing shone a deep violet color, and strange runes wound up its frame.

Some caught the morning light and shimmered brightly.

Others blinked out of focus the instant I tried to make sense of them.

Almost as though the clock tower itself was forbidding me from seeing them.

But that would suggest the clock tower was sentient. And that was ridiculous. Right?

I glanced back at the store with the mannequins. I swear, the one on the left was still glaring at me.

Okay, maybe not so ridiculous.

But definitely strange.

I lingered a little longer, taking in the sight, before venturing onward.

I hadn’t made it far when the soft rhythm of nearby footsteps caught my attention.

I turned to find a woman jogging toward me, dressed in black leggings and a cropped tank top with a full moon printed on the chest. Just beneath it, in cheeky white letters, were the words: Wanna Howl?

Ah, a shifter. That made sense. They liked to do wild and crazy things—like run.

She slowed the moment she reached me and pulled out an earbud. Then the other.

“You’re new,” she said.

I offered a small smile. “Is it that obvious?”

She glanced down at my outfit, then back up with a grin. “Absolutely. But also, this is Eternity Falls, population five-hundred-and-sixty-two. New faces tend to stand out.”

Aha.

“Thorne,” she said, extending a hand without hesitation. “And no, I don’t do tarot readings, despite what everyone assumes.”

All right then.

I took her hand, shaking it briefly. “Isadora.”

“Pretty name,” Thorne said. “Pretty outfit. Well, Izzy, welcome to the weirdest town you’ll ever learn to love.”

I blinked at the nickname she instantly assigned me without even knowing me for five minutes.

She grinned at my bewildered expression. “Are you all moved in?”

I nodded. “Last night.”

“And how are you settling in?”

“As well as one can without caffeine or blood,” I said dryly.

Thorne laughed. “Easily remedied. Our grocery stores—yes, all two of them—carry ethically sourced blood. And caffeine is practically its own food group around here. You’ll find it on every corner, probably blessed by a witch. Just be careful which blessing you get. Some like to play dirty.”

“Thanks,” I said while mentally calculating my finances—and grimacing.

The irony of my situation wasn’t lost on me.

Back in New Orleans, I’d had more wealth than I knew what to do with yet never needed a cent to feed.

Humans were a dime a dozen there, and vampires like me had long since mastered the art of subtle indulgence.

But here? Not a single human to feed off of, nor could my bank account sustain me.

The pressure to get my newly acquired bar back on its feet was mounting, but unfortunately, that also required funds.

“Something wrong?” Thorne asked.

I shook my head a little too quickly. No need to unload my life’s drama on someone I’d only just met at—I glanced at my watch—seven-thirty in the morning.

Thorne didn’t press. Instead, she asked. “So, you out here wandering with a purpose? Or just taking in the sights?”

“A little of both,” I admitted. “Figured I’d get the lay of the land. See what I’ve gotten myself into.”

“Smart,” she said. “Well, if you don’t mind the company, I can tag along for a bit. Morning runs get a little boring without someone to talk to. Besides, I’m always happy to play tour guide.”

“Sure,” I said, surprising myself. “That’d be great, actually.”

Thorne’s grin widened. “Perfect.”

She fell into step beside me, her pace smooth and effortless, like she hadn’t just been out running a marathon.

“So,” she said as we walked past a shop window filled with floating candles and what looked like a levitating kitten, “what brings a vampire heiress to our little corner of the world?”

I glanced at her, startled. “How did you?—?”

“Please,” she said with a wave of her hand. “Gossip travels faster than spellfire in this town. I’m surprised someone didn’t spell your name in the sky the moment you crossed the town line. Though, our clock tower definitely took on a new hue.”

I glanced back. The clock tower changed colors?

I cleared my throat. “Then you must know about?—”

“All the rest?” She grinned. “Naturally. And might I add, I’m a fan . Breaking a mate bond? Leaving all that old-money drama behind? Buying a haunted bar that no one’s touched in years?” She gave a low whistle. “Iconic.”

I shot her a bemused look. “You say that like I didn’t just light my entire life on fire.”

“Oh, you absolutely did,” she said brightly. “But you did it with style. And I can appreciate that. Although, I’m not sure you understand what you’re getting yourself into with that bar, but it’ll be fun for the rest of us to watch.”

“What do you mean? What am I getting myself into?” I questioned.

Thorne slowed her pace just slightly, eyes flicking to a building across the square like she was checking for eavesdroppers. “Let’s just say…the property you bought isn’t exactly unclaimed territory.”

I frowned. “Claude said it was abandoned.”

“Oh, it is. But abandoned doesn’t mean forgotten. Especially not when it sits just two blocks from The Crimson Veil.”

I blinked. “The what?”

“The Crimson Veil. It’s the most exclusive lounge in town. Think velvet ropes, enchanted cocktails, and power plays disguised as polite conversation. It’s owned by none other than Lucien St. Germain.”

Ah. A name I recognized.

Thorne nodded, catching my expression. “So, you’ve heard of him.”

“Of the family,” I clarified. “Claude gave me the rundown of the legacy families in town. Basically, he said the St. Germains are wannabe vampiric royalty with control issues.”

“That’s the polite version.” Thorne smirked. “Lucien’s the heir—the one they all watch, fear, or desperately want to impress. The whole town practically bows when he walks by.”

“And my buying a rundown bar near his palace of influence is…a problem?”

“For you? Definitely,” she said brightly. “The second you signed those papers, you lit a spark. And in Eternity Falls, sparks don’t go unnoticed. Lucien doesn’t like surprises, nor competition, so he’s going to notice you.”

“Hmm,” I murmured, not with dread, but interest. “Egotistical power plays. Delightful.” This sounded like my kind of battlefield. I didn’t do fists or fangs, but I certainly engaged in carefully chosen words and razor-edged smiles. The slow circling of predators in tailored suits.

Thorne arched a brow when I offered a small smile. “That’s…not the reaction most people have.”

“Most people weren’t raised at Laurent dinner tables,” I replied. “We played politics between courses.”

She snorted. “Look, you’ve clearly had a rough go of things lately. So, I’m just gonna be straight with you. Lucien’s not just some overdressed lounge owner with daddy’s money. He treats this town like a chessboard, and everyone on it like pieces—except him. He’s the player. Always.”

My grin grew. “Charming.”

“Oh, he’s charming, all right,” she said, voice dry. “And that’s the danger. He’s polished and terrifyingly good at pretending he’s not dangerous—right up until someone crosses him. Then the silk gloves come off and the sociopath comes out to play.”

When I didn’t immediately respond, she continued, “No one openly challenges a St. Germain without bleeding for it. Their family owns half the town, and the other half owes them something. Lucien’s the kind of man who can ruin you without ever raising his voice.

He’ll smile, toast your ambition, and make sure the council denies your permits, your vendors disappear, and your pipes mysteriously burst the night before your grand opening. ”

“Sounds like my kind of fun,” I said.

Thorne stared. “Did you miss the part where I said he’ll try to destroy you?”

“Oh, I caught it,” I said. “Permits revoked. Supplies vanish. Pipes burst. Very clean. Very civilized. He’s brutal.”

Thorne weighed my words. “He won’t murder you or anything. He’ll just make you wish you were dead.”

I tilted my head slightly, letting her words settle—and then smiled.

Thorne blinked. “You’re terrifying. Has anyone ever told you that before?”

“Mm-hmm. They definitely have. And for good reason.” I glanced around at the quiet streets and the quaint buildings, all while the gentle pulse of magic hummed under my feet.

It didn’t look like the kind of place built on silent wars and social sabotage.

But I’d grown up around power. I knew pretty facades were often just that.

“Okay, it’s just you’re smiling, and it’s kind of creepy,” Thorne said.

I chuckled. “Forgive me, but you’re not a vampire.

This is exactly the sort of game we thrive on.

Politics. Power plays. Predators in pearls.

” I tilted my head, then caught her gaze and held it.

“If Lucien wants to play, I say let him. Sounds like he’s overdue for someone to knock the smug out of his fangs. And I’m happy to oblige.”

Thorne opened her mouth, closed it, then chuckled. “Okay. That was either the most badass or most unhinged thing I’ve heard all week.”

“Stick around,” I told her. “You said you’re bored. Consider this your front-row seat.”

I hadn’t come here looking for a fight. But if this was how things worked in Eternity Falls, then maybe I’d fit right in. For the first time since arriving here, I felt something click into place. My life was still haunted—both literally and metaphorically—but this?

This I understood.