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Helia Potter couldn’t get out of the Ministry fast enough. Her stomach roiled and a cold sweat popped out long her forehead and down the back of her neck.
She craved the fresh night air like her last breath, but she kept her stride even and strong. Her fisted hands held rigidly at her sides were the only outward indicator that she was anything but calm and collected.
It was always like this for her—the Fates were determined to intervene in every aspect of her life and ruin every illusion of a peaceful life she entertained.
Outside now, alone in the alley, she gulped in a few quick mouthfuls of air. The rush of oxygen cooled her burning throat, but it was all she could do not to double over from the rising pain that was coursing like a river of fire through her limbs and into the center of her being.
She needed to feed…
“Bloody Hell,” she muttered into the empty darkness rocking a bit on her tall leather boots. Taking a few more deep breaths, she stared at the black pavement under her feet and focused simply on holding herself together.
She slid her hands into Sirius’ old leather jacket and sighed when her fingers clutched her beloved wand.
It was a small measure of peace, but one that never failed to remind her that she was a survivor.
She was the Saviour and she would prevail no matter what.
The Second Wizard ended a few months ago, but the price the British Wiccans paid was a tremendously heavy one.
Plenty of families lost a member or two, some were, unlucky and their names became extinct.
Some suffered Werewolves’ bites and become the pariah of their still-prejudiced society.
Helia wasn’t different. Despite what she went through since she was a mere toddler, the Fates decides that she had to pay again.
After the final battle, she retreated to 12 Grimmauld Place and seldom went out. She was pestered by hordes of journalists who wanted an exclusive interview pertaining all the details of her famous duel with Voldemort and stepping out the threshold of her house became an inconvenience.
Nevertheless, she couldn’t hide forever or so she thought…
One night, she planned to take a quick trip to Andromeda’s house and make sure that her godson was faring well.
Hermione and Ron took a portkey to Sydney intending to restore her parents’ memories and Helia couldn’t stand her self-imposed confinement any longer.
She apparated to Andromeda’s house, unaware that the trip would perpetually change her life.
As soon as she landed, she was startled to find a stranger blocking her way.
A niggle of unease shot through her to see him standing there. He seemed so big and threatening and she could see that there was something unusual about his eyes.
“Good evening, Helia Potter,” he said.
His voice was dry and airless and her instincts flared sensing danger. “Are you here to visit your precious godson?”
She kept her mouth shut and stealthily tried to take her wand out. She cursed her stupidity for ignoring Mad Eye’s advice about purchasing a holster. She was a fighter and not a novice who kept their wand in their front pocket.
“Who are you?” she clutched her wand firmly, looking around for an escape.
The night was dark and moonless, the only light coming from Andy’s windows. ‘She needed to divert attention from Andy and Teddy’, she kept thinking desperately as the man eyed her.
He chuckled under his breath. “So, finally you decided to leave your hiding place? I almost lost all hope.”
She stiffened and took a step back. “I asked you a question; who are you and what do you want?”
“I’m Sanguini and I was waiting for the chance to have my revenge, Potter. You killed my Bride three months ago and it’s time you pay for it.”
He moved so fast, she didn’t know what hit her. One second, he was standing several feet away from her, the next he had his hand around her throat, cutting off her air.
He pushed her back into the shadows near the foliage; back where nobody was going to notice if he passed by.
His mouth was so close to her face, she could smell his foul breath. She saw his sharp teeth as he curled his lips back and hissed a terrible threat. “You should know better than to hurt a Vampire’s Bride. Now, I’ll have the revenge I waited so long for.”
Helia stood utterly frozen with terror, and her fingers loosened around her wand as searing pain hit her neck.
The vampire drew hard at the bleeding gash he’d made in her throat. He grunted and pulled deeper at her with his mouth and sharp fangs.
Although her eyes were wide open in horror, her vision was going dark, and her thoughts began to tumble, splintering into pieces.
She tasted iron in her mouth and couldn’t get away as Sanguini forced her to drink something warm and salty.
Everything around her was growing murky and one thought remained. ’I can’t die like this…’
With a desperate burst of will, she snapped her head into his, cracking the side of her skull into Sanguini’s face.
When he snarled and reared back in surprise, she tore out of his grasp.
She stumbled, nearly falling to her knees before she righted herself, her hand coming up to feel the burning wound at her neck.
She edged backward, away from the vampire that lifted his head and sneered at her with glowing eyes and bloodstained lips.
She took another step back and with the last bit of her energy, she apparated back home.
The last thing she heard was his smug snarl. “You won’t die, Potter, I made sure of it. You’ll become the leper of Magical Britain instead and everyone will start hunting you down.”
It was the night Helia Lily Potter became a fledging vampire, a creature of the night, something the British Ministry of Magic would classify as a dark humanoid being.
She spent the following nights trying to come to terms with her new reality, fighting her new basic needs, and steadfastly resisting the enticing call of blood.
Helia recognized the necessity of leaving Magical Britain at once. If the Ministry caught a whiff of her predicament, she didn’t want to picture how they would react.
Thankfully, Kreacher came to the rescue again. He arranged a meeting with Ragnok; Gringotts’ Director.
After receiving a lengthy lecture on the foolishness of what she did a few months ago and how her little stunt sullied the unblemished reputation of the bank, he agreed to help.
For a price, of course.
He delineated what she had to do, now that she was a Half-Vampire, and directed her to the only one who could help her; Maxwell “Max” Lawrence.
The ancient vampire was Vlad Țepeș’ older brother and North America’s Coven Master.
Decades ago, the two brothers got into a fight and Maxwell left the continent with the intention of founding his Coven.
When she inquired why not contact Count Vlad since he was residing in Transylvania, Ragnok explained that the Vampire Elder had started his seventy-seventh hibernation cycle ten years ago and would remain asleep for a while.
Maxwell Lawrence was her only hope.
And so, here she was in Santa Carla, an offbeat coastal town in California that housed the majority of the Western U.S. vampire population.
Unlike their European counterparts, she heard that the American vampires preferred to blend with muggles and lead a quiet life.
Behind her came the swift, light shuffle of sneakers. The sound drew her head up sharply.
She forced a look of cool apathy over the hot tightness on her face and waited for the man heading her way to get closer.
“Welcome to Santa Carla, Helia Potter,” Max extended his hand and she was taken aback by his appearance.
The Head Vampire was…very geeky.
He had high cheekbones and brown eyes that shone with intelligence. For attire, he chose a striped linen shirt, gray dress pants, and thick glasses.
She wondered what he was doing dressing like that.
“It’s called camouflage, my dear,” he grinned widely as if reading her thoughts, and she gasped at the sight of his pointed cuspids.
Helia scoffed. “But you have magic as well, why not use it?”
Max scrutinized her before he answered. “Our relationship with No-Maj here is different. We don’t believe in the need of establishing boundaries. Not to mention that as vampires, we find our Brides or Grooms in No-Maj many a time.”
Helia swallowed thickly as he mentioned the matter that had been muddling her sleep.
A Groom.
As a vampire, she was no longer free to choose a partner. The Fates had this covered as well for every one of her kind was intended to have a soulmate, notwithstanding his species; Wiccan, human, or just another vampire.
“Let’s go. My boys should be waiting for us. They’re excited to meet a new fledging,” Max said, tossing her a playful look.
“The boys?” Helia wondered.
“Yes, my four children. I sired them when I first came here and I consider them my blood and flesh. I couldn’t find my Bride back then. Though, my wait is over now,” he said the last part with so much affection that she felt his devotion toward this Bride.
“Congratulations, Mr. Lawrence,” she offered with sincerity.
He waved her off. “No need for that. Just call me Max. We don’t care much for titles and hierarchy here, we’re family,”
Max’s voice was low and unrushed, his gaze piercing even in the dark and she understood then why he was the Head Vampire.
The air around him cackled with repressed power and she shivered with the need to submit and declare her pledge to the American Coven Master.
“Take my hand Helia,” Max offered his arm and Helia took it, knowing that she had no choice if she wanted to survive.
She had to finish the last phase of her transformation and find her Groom.
❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅
David was relaxing in his comfy chair, enjoying some Mummy Calls' soundtracks. ‘Beauty has her way’ was his favorite and he didn’t care about his brothers’ taunts and unmasked gibes.
For an unfathomable reason, he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the Cave’s entrance.
Something tugged at his heartstrings and his blood thrummed with anticipation.
Dwayne’s bike roared as he made his entrance and David shook his head at his brother.
He had taken it upon himself to care for Laddie, the abused child, they retrieved months ago. Laddie Thompson had been severely injured, which propelled Dwayne to gift him the Bite.
Max planned to give him more years before he transformed him fully and declared him a member of the Coven.
Since he was so attached to Dwayne, it was quite impossible to leave him in the care of another vampire family.
“What’s up, bud?” Dwayne took a sit and examined him carefully.
He was his closest brother and never failed to discern his mood swings.
“Something feels strange, Dwayne. I can’t explain it but—it’s as if I’ve been waiting for tonight,” Davis’s tone was casual but the puzzlement couldn’t be more clear.
He rubbed at his chest and leaned his head back, looking at the ceiling.
“How long has it been since you fed? Maybe you should look for some juicy donors. Chicks adore you, bud and you need to replenish your forces.”
An amused chuckle joined them and David swung his head around and watched Paul approach with his customary swagger.
“Dwayne is right, David. It had been a week since you picked up a chick and gave her the best night of her life. I know that Max forbade us from taking too much blood and raising suspicions among the locals, but you can always repay the girls, or better yet, rid this town of scum and jailbirds,” Paul grinned, full of cocky amusement, his arms crossed over his chest.
Despite his bouncing exterior, Paul was a monster who reveled in killing their targets with no remorse.
Since he turned them, Max, being their Head, taught them the art of surviving and instilled in them the need to stay away from innocents whenever hunger clouded their senses.
They bounced between spending their nights taking their fill of thugs and murderers or enjoying the company of interested girls.
David’s stomach recoiled at the visual of taking a vein and he closed his eyes trying to calm his nerves.
He slid to the edge of his seat and ignored Paul, looking at his fingernails and struggling to sort his feelings out.
He swallowed around the light tightness around his heart and as smoothly as he could manage, relaxed his arms at his sides.
Something happened a week ago, something that made him confused and stricken, snatched the peace of his life and disturbed his daily routine.
“The damned Frog Brothers have been watching too much Dynasty,” Marko fumed as he prowled in, “I barely made it out of the boardwalk, where I was enjoying a fight with a pair of gangsters.”
Paul chuckled. “These monster-bashers wannabes are a bother. Filthy little flies.”
Dwayne huffed. ‘’You’d better be careful. They’re the new buddies of Michael and Sam Emerson, the kids of Lucy.”
David sighed. Lucy Emerson was the long-awaited Bride of Max, the one he spent decades chasing down. The No-Maj was married to another human before she divorced him.
A vampire Bride or Groom couldn't settle down with anyone except their true mate. Lucy had always been fated to meet Max and mark the end of his long wait.
‘’I know and that’s why I haven’t punished them yet as they deserve. I’m dedicated to the high purpose of matchmaking Daddy Max,” Marko whined.
“You’re such a kind-hearted Cupid Marko,” Paul mocked and jumped as Marko threw a high-powered Tickling Charm with a single wave of his left hand.
Vampire Magic was way more potent and thoroughly weaved with their very being than that of wizards. It astonished David how some European Ministries of Magic still hold heavy prejudice against their kind.
Max reported disconcerting stories about laws restricting the vampire population and treating them as nothing but beasts.
“He’d better make his move, I had it with his starry-eyed face,” David snickered, a small smile gracing his lips.
Every vampire housed in the deepest recesses of his soul the need to find his mate. It was the greatest gift any of his kind could receive and doomed were those who spent an eternity searching to no avail.
They were fated to a lonely existence with the prospect of falling victim to the Blood Madness; every vampire’s nightmare.
His heart skipped a beat and he was puzzled by the weak quaver, but he tore himself away from the strange feelings haunting him when he sensed the disturbance in the air.
Max was back, with some company.
He divulged the case of the British Half-Vampire he decided to add to the Coven. What happened to her was disheartening, more so considering who she was and how much she sacrificed for her country.
Yet, vampire vengeance was absolute. Unknowingly, she slighted Sanguini and drove him to embrace the Blood Madness.
The case was reported to the Vampire Council and Sanguini was declared a rogue who would be hunted and executed at first sight.
The fair, silver-blond strands at the back of his neck bristled the moment Max and the young brunette following him strode in.
David stood abruptly and then sipped the sight of her, his eyes drinking every tiny detail and his hand shaking with the need to reach for her.
“David? You’re too pale, bud,” Dwayne clutched his arm and he quailed at the foreign touch.
He cringed when his brother’s eyes widened and a fine sheen of amber simmered around the brown.
“You’re burning up, David, ‘’ Dwayne pointed out and he wanted to growl and punch his best mate in the face.
“Boys, this is Miss Helia Potter; the British Half-Vampire that would join our Coven after undergoing the second bite. I believe you know of the famous Woman Who Won.”
David noticed right away how she flinched. It seemed Magical Britain’s Savior wasn’t fond of her moniker.
“Well, well. Welcome to our humble abode, Miss Potter,” Paul started, his voice husky and inviting.
With a scoff, Marko swiveled his shaggy blond head to regard Paul, so well acquainted with his games.
“Boys,” Max chided gently.
Helia’s eyes settled on him and a soft gasp left her plump lips.
His gums burned and his fangs ached to slide down as she looked away unnerved. A rush of warmth skittered along her high cheekbones and slid down her slender neck.
His blue eyes, tinted amber now, zoomed on her pulse point and he could hardly absorb the foreign feelings clouding his mind.
His mind was spinning with images of her blood surging into his mouth straight from the jugular as he sucked on her soft skin and drew from her with deep, urgent pulls, trying to curb the feral part of every vampire that knew nothing but need and blood.
He saw them bonded together for all eternity, feeding from each other.
He tasted warm blood pulsing over his tongue and down his parched throat, silky, sweet, and warm.
The severity of his need made him tug on Paul’s long black coat and throw him on the couch.
“Ouch —What the…’’
The rest of his brother’s words were lost to him as Max grinned wickedly and clapped his hands together.
“I sensed something the moment I read her letter and caught her scent. But this exceeds my wildest dreams. Congratulations, Son.”
Marko gaped and Dwayne nodded and escorted a puzzled Laddie out, ushering the rest of the boys away.
“Max, what’s happening to me? I—“ Helia breathed and he discerned the tremors in her voice.
“I think that you’re the luckiest Half-Vampire in history. To be granted the privilege of your Mate’s blood at such young age is a blessing,” his Sire explained, his voice calm, “I believe that David is more equipped to ease you into this. Good luck, kids.”
Max winked and teleported away.
David took Helia’s hand and lifted it to his lips. He brought her closer then, pressing her palm to his chest, to the heavy throb that beat against his ribs like a war drum.
“You don’t know how much I waited for you, I dreamt of you. I can never let you go now because whether you want it or not, you have my heart and all my upcoming years. You have my love too, if you accept it,” David swallowed thickly, his skin burning at the small touch.
Never had he felt so lost and needy, yet never was he so earnest.
“Say it again,” She whispered and joy; pure and bright surged through him to hear her words.
Looking into the pools of emerald green, marred by numerous amber spots now that her creature was simmering under her skin, he took a glimpse of her memories and hardened his jaw in order not to curse loud.
The people that hurt her for years were fair game and he would chase every last one of them.
He pulled Helia into his arms and kissed her hair, relishing in the moment.
“You deserve someone better than me,” he confessed, reverence in his voice and his amber-flecked blue gaze, “I’ve been a bad boy for so long but I—would you have me even though I admit I’m far from being a decent vampire?“
She shook her head and snuggled closer. “I don’t know you yet David but I believe in my instincts. I feel the call of your blood and I accept it. I plan to start from scratch here and I know that you’ll be there to guide me.”
“Always,” he swore.
“Always,” she repeated.
David waved his hand and a dagger materialized in his palm.
He smiled at her wide-eyed look, ‘’I’ll gladly teach you Vampire Magic Helia, it’s way more powerful than what you know.’’
She nodded, then startled a bit as he brought it toward his face.
He brought the edge of the blade up to his mouth. His eyes kept holding her anxious gaze and he asked one final time. “Hilda Potter, would you honor me and take my blood to complete your transformation? Would you accept to bond with me?”
Her voice was the barest whisper. “Yes.”
David bowed his head and moved the dagger to his lower lip. When he threw it away and looked at her once more, his mouth was glossy with dark red blood.
“Come here. Let me love you forever,” he said and pressed his scarlet lips to hers.
He was hers but she was his as well.
The thought was fiercely possessive, primal, something he never thought he would crave that much before and a voice kept whispering that all good things are wild and free and bad, very bad.