The water had been running for almost twenty minutes.
Zina stood beneath the shower with her eyes closed, letting the heat loosen the tension in her shoulders.
Steam curled around the bathroom, blurring the edges of the mirror and turning the bright lights into soft halos.
Music played quietly from her phone on the counter.
“Best Part” Daniel Caesar ft.
H.E.R.
She hummed along beneath her breath, running a hand through her wet hair.
Tonight, she needed this.
A normal night.
A hot shower.
Good music.
Clean sheets.
No board members.
No family arguments.
No questions about her mother.
No ancient creatures lurking in the shadows of her life.
And definitely no discussions about vampires.
For twenty minutes, she wanted to pretend she was still the same woman she’d been before her father’s death.
The same Zina who worried about business reports, argued with her father over stupid things, spent too much money on skincare and occasionally ate cake at midnight without caring about calories.
She smiled.
Her father would have complained about the shower.
He had always complained about everything.
Too much water.
Too much electricity.
Too much time in the bathroom.
Yet whenever she reminded him that he owned half the house, he would simply say, “That is precisely why I know how expensive your habits are.”
She laughed softly.
“Old man.”
The water continued pouring over her face.
She remembered one particular evening from two years ago.
Eze Holdings had been going through one of its worst periods.
Investors were pulling out.
Contracts were collapsing.
Her father had spent weeks barely sleeping.
Zina had walked into his study one night with a stack of reports under her arm.
“I’ve found the problem.”
Chike had looked up from his laptop.
“Good.”
“You’re not going to ask what the problem is?”
“I know what the problem is.”
“Then why did you say good?”
“Because you found it.”
She had frowned.
“You’re impossible.”
“And yet you came to me.”
“I came because I need you to approve something.”
He leaned back in his chair.
“What?”
“I want to restructure the logistics division.”
“No.”
She had blinked.
“You didn’t even hear the proposal.”
“I know you.”
“Dad.”
“No.”
“Dad!”
He had smiled.
She remembered being so angry that she’d picked up a cushion from the sofa and thrown it at him.
He caught it easily.
“You’re very violent.”
“You deserve it.”
“I’m your father.”
“Exactly. You should know better.”
He had laughed.
Then, after teasing her for another ten minutes, he finally listened to her proposal.
Two months later, the division had turned around.
That was how they worked.
They fought.
They disagreed.
They challenged each other.
But he listened.
He had never treated her like a child simply because she was his daughter.
He’d made her earn her place beside him.
And when she did, he’d been proud.
Zina turned off the shower.
The sudden quiet made her realize how loud her thoughts had become.
She wrapped a towel around herself and stepped onto the mat.
The mirror was completely fogged.
She wiped a small circle across it with her palm and looked at herself.
“Tired.”
She tilted her head.
“Still beautiful, though.”
She nodded.
“Very beautiful.”
She reached for her skincare products.
Her father had once caught her standing in front of the mirror doing the exact same thing.
“What are you doing?”
“Taking care of my skin.”
“You’ve been standing there for fifteen minutes.”
“And?”
“Your face is not going anywhere.”
“Neither are you, apparently.”
He had laughed so loudly that she’d nearly dropped her moisturizer.
She smiled at the memory.
The smile slowly faded.
She missed him.
That was the simplest truth of everything.
She missed her father.
Not Chike Eze, the businessman.
Not the founder of Eze Holdings.
Not the man people respected, feared or envied.
Her dad.
The man who used to steal food from her plate and then deny it.
The man who called her whenever he travelled.
The man who would ask whether she’d eaten before asking how her day went.
The man who believed she could do anything even when she didn’t believe it herself.
Zina finished her skincare routine and walked into her bedroom.
The room was cool and dim, the curtains drawn over the windows.
She slipped into a loose nightdress and sat at her dressing table, rubbing body lotion into her arms.
The music changed.
“Get You” — Daniel Caesar ft.
Kali Uchis.
She smiled.
“Perfect.”
She reached for her hairbrush.
As she brushed through her damp hair, her eyes wandered to the photograph sitting on the corner of her dressing table.
Her father.
She stopped.
She picked it up.
The photograph had been taken years ago.
Chike was seated behind his desk, looking serious while Zina stood beside him with one hand resting on his shoulder.
She remembered that day.
She had insisted on taking the picture.
He had refused to smile.
So she’d threatened to post an embarrassing picture of him instead.
He’d smiled immediately.
Zina laughed under her breath.
“You were so easy to blackmail.”
She ran her thumb over the photograph.
Her smile disappeared.
“You should have told me more.”
The room gave her no answer.
She looked down.
“You knew something was coming, didn’t you?”
Her voice softened.
“You knew this would happen.”
She hated that thought.
Because it meant her father had known there were dangers around her and still hadn’t told her everything.
But another part of her understood.
He had been protecting her.
Just like Damien said.
Just like Luca seemed to be doing.
Everyone knew something.
Everyone except her.
Zina placed the photograph back.
“That really needs to stop.”
She climbed into bed.
For once, she didn’t reach for her phone immediately.
She simply lay there staring at the ceiling.
Her life had changed so quickly.
A few weeks ago, she had been worrying about her father’s company and whether she could handle becoming its head.
Now she knew vampires existed. This chapter is updated first at g.com.
She knew Damien was one.
She knew her mother was alive somewhere.
She knew her father’s past was connected to a world that had remained hidden from humanity.
And she knew there was something inside her blood.
Something that had begun waking up.
Her fingers moved instinctively toward her wrist.
The mark was barely visible now.
She remembered Damien’s warning.
The blood has awakened.
She didn’t know what that meant.
And she wasn’t sure she wanted to.
Zina sighed and reached for her phone.
She scrolled through her playlist for a moment before choosing another song.
“Adore You” — Harry Styles.
The soft music filled the room.
She smiled faintly.
At least music couldn’t keep secrets from her.
She pulled the blanket over herself.
Her thoughts wandered back to her father.
She remembered the way he used to tell her that confidence wasn’t something people were born with.
“You practice it,” he’d said once.
She had laughed.
“Practice what?”
“Being the woman you want to become.”
She hadn’t understood him then.
She understood now.
Zina turned onto her side.
“I’m trying, Dad.”
Her voice was barely a whisper.
Her eyes grew heavy.
The music became distant.
And slowly, she fell asleep.
She was standing in darkness.
Not the darkness of night.
Something deeper.
There was no floor beneath her feet, yet she wasn’t falling.
No walls.
No ceiling.
No moon.
Only endless blackness.
“Hello?”
Her voice disappeared into the darkness.
Then came a heartbeat.
Boom.
Boom.
Boom.
A faint red light appeared ahead.
Zina moved toward it.
The light grew brighter.
She stopped.
Blood floated in the air before her.
Thousands of droplets.
They moved slowly, forming patterns she couldn’t understand.
Then the blood began to flow.
Not downward.
Sideways.
It formed a river suspended in the darkness.
Zina stared.
Something about it felt familiar.
A voice whispered through the darkness.
“Remember.”
She turned.
“Who are you?”
No answer.
The river of blood shifted.
A man appeared inside it.
Her father.
Chike.
He stood exactly as she remembered him, wearing the dark suit he’d worn during one of their first major business negotiations.
“Dad?”
He looked at her.
There was something different about him.
His eyes were glowing faintly gold.
Zina stepped closer.
“Dad?”
He reached toward her.
His hand touched her palm.
And suddenly the darkness exploded with images.
Generations.
Hundreds of faces.
Men and women she had never met.
The Eze bloodline stretching backward through time.
But there was something hidden beneath it.
Something that had been sleeping inside the blood for generations.
A golden light moved through their veins.
Then disappeared.
The voice returned.
“What sleeps in the blood does not die.”
Zina looked around.
“What is it?”
“Memory.”
Another voice answered.
“Power.”
Another.
“Inheritance.”
Images flashed before her.
Fire.
A forest.
A woman screaming.
A child being carried beneath a moonless sky.
A symbol carved into ancient stone.
Then everything vanished.
Zina looked at her father.
“What did you leave me?”
Chike’s lips moved.
His voice came from somewhere far away.
“Not everything I gave you was mine to give.”
“What does that mean?”
His image began to fade.
“Dad!”
She reached for him.
He disappeared.
The darkness swallowed him.
Then a woman’s voice whispered her name.
“Zina.”
She turned.
Lenora stood behind her.
Zina froze.
Her mother looked exactly as she had imagined.
Beautiful.
Ethereal.
And impossibly sad.
“You were never meant to know this so soon.”
“Know what?”
Lenora stepped closer.
“Your blood is waking.”
Zina shook her head.
“I don’t understand.”
“You will.”
“Why me?”
Lenora looked at her with something painfully close to love.
“Because you are his daughter.”
“My father’s blood?”
Lenora nodded.
“But not only his.”
Zina’s heart began pounding.
“What else is in me?”
Lenora reached toward her face.
Before her fingers could touch Zina’s skin, the world shook.
Lenora disappeared.
A voice thundered through the darkness.
“THE BLOOD HAS AWAKENED.”
Zina covered her ears.
“Stop!”
The darkness cracked.
The voice came again.
“THE DAUGHTER CARRIES WHAT WAS HIDDEN.”
Zina fell to her knees.
“What was hidden?”
No answer.
Instead, another voice whispered.
“Blood seeks its vessel.”
Then another.
“Blood seeks its bond.”
Zina looked up.
A figure appeared in the distance.
Damien.
But he wasn’t the Damien she knew.
He looked older.
Much older.
There was something ancient in his face, something regal and terrifying.
Several figures stood behind him.
They bowed.
Zina stared.
“Damien?”
The voices surrounded her.
“Royal blood.”
“Blood that commands.”
“Blood that can hold what others cannot.”
She looked down at her own hands.
Gold and red light twisted beneath her skin.
“What am I?”
The figure of Damien moved closer.
The dream shifted.
Suddenly, Zina stood between him and a wall covered in ancient symbols.
She couldn’t read them.
Yet somehow she understood one word.
Bind.
A voice whispered.
“Bind the blood.”
Zina shook her head.
“Why?”
“Before it is found.”
Another voice.
“Before she awakens.”
Another.
“Before they come.”
“Who?”
Silence.
Then the voices began speaking again.
“Marry him.”
Zina froze.
“No.”
“Bind yourself to the royal blood.”
“No.”
“Mate with him.”
Her heart slammed against her ribs.
“What?”
“Mate with him.”
“Why?”
The voices answered together.
“Because his blood can hold hers.”
Zina looked at Damien.
His eyes met hers.
He said nothing.
The darkness began collapsing around them.
Zina reached toward him.
“Tell me why!”
The world shattered.
Zina woke with a scream.
She shot upright in bed, gasping for air.
For several seconds, she couldn’t remember where she was.
Then reality returned.
Her bedroom.
Her mansion.
Her bed.
The curtains.
The soft glow of the security light outside her window.
She pressed a trembling hand against her chest.
Her heart was pounding.
She looked around the room.
Nothing.
Everything was exactly where she’d left it.
Zina wiped the sweat from her forehead.
“What the hell was that?”
She glanced at the clock.
3:17 a.m.
Her breathing slowly steadied.
It had been a dream.
Just a dream.
Except it hadn’t felt like one.
It had felt real.
The blood.
Her father.
Lenora.
The strange golden light.
Damien.
The voices.
She looked at her wrist.
The mark was there.
Faint.
Almost invisible.
But glowing.
Zina’s eyes widened.
She reached for it.
The instant her finger touched the mark, a sharp pulse of heat travelled through her arm.
She jerked her hand away.
The glow disappeared.
Her heart began racing again.
“What is happening to me?”
She got out of bed.
The mansion was completely silent.
She took a few steps toward the window.
Then stopped.
Something moved outside.
Zina froze.
There was a figure standing near the far end of the garden.
Tall.
Still.
A shadow beneath the moonlight.
She couldn’t make out a face.
Her breath caught.
The figure turned slightly.
For one impossible second, Zina could have sworn she recognized the shape.
The posture.
The silhouette.
The way he seemed to carry himself.
“Luca?”
The shadow vanished.
Not walked away.
Not ran.
Vanished.
Zina rushed to the window and pulled the curtain aside.
Nothing.
The garden was empty.
Only the trees moved gently in the night breeze.
She stared into the darkness.
Her pulse hammered in her ears.
Maybe she had imagined it.
Maybe it was only a shadow.
Maybe the dream hadn’t completely released her yet.
Zina slowly stepped away from the window.
But one thought refused to leave her mind.
She had seen Luca.
Or something that looked exactly like him.
And whatever it was…
Had been watching her.