PRIME APEX

Finding a place to live before starting my job at Daily Life was turning out to be far more stressful than I had anticipated.

Most decent rentals were either outrageously expensive or inconveniently far from the office.

The ones within my budget? Barely livable. Peeling wallpaper, broken plumbing, or the unmistakable scent of mold greeted me in nearly every apartment I toured.

Still, I spent my afternoons scrolling through listings, sending inquiries, and showing up to viewings that always looked far better in pictures than in reality.

With Jane having already left for her hometown, the dorm felt unnervingly empty.

The silence was strange—no playful nagging about my eating habits, no prying questions about my personal life disguised as casual conversation. I missed her presence more than I cared to admit.

But at least I had something to look forward to. This job was supposed to be my fresh start—my return to normalcy.

Or at least, that's what I kept telling myself.

That fragile sense of optimism shattered one evening, just after I had finished another disappointing apartment tour.

I was walking back to the dorm, cutting through a quiet alley—a route I normally would have avoided. But exhaustion clouded my judgment, and I just wanted to get home as quickly as possible.

The air was thick with the scent of rain on pavement, and the flickering glow of a streetlight cast distorted shadows along the brick walls.

That's when I felt it.

A prickling sensation at the back of my neck. A shift in the air that sent a cold shiver down my spine. My instincts screamed at me to run.

I never got the chance.

A figure emerged from the shadows, blocking my path. His eyes gleamed unnaturally under the dim light—feral, hungry.

Vampire.

My pulse spiked as I took an instinctive step back.

"Well, well," he drawled, lips curling into a slow, predatory smirk. "I finally found you."

I didn't know him. But the way he looked at me—like I was prey—made my blood run cold.

"Not interested," I said, quickly reaching out for my phone to call Xander, as I took another step back.

His smirk widened.

"Oh, but you should be."

His gaze flickered to my wrist, as if he could already smell the blood beneath my skin.

"I heard a rumor," he mused.

"That your blood is… different. Stronger. Powerful enough to make us even more."

Dread twisted in my stomach.

Then he lunged.

I barely dodged him, stumbling back against the rough brick wall. My wrist scraped against the jagged edge of a rusted gate, sending a sharp sting up my arm.

I hissed in pain, glancing down to see a thin line of blood beading at the surface.

The vampire froze. His pupils dilated as his breathing grew erratic.

"Your blood…" His voice dropped to something almost reverent, before shifting into something far more desperate.

"It's calling for me."

He lunged again—faster, wilder.

But before he could reach me, something dark and impossibly fast moved past my vision. A blur of motion. A violent force.

Xander.

One second, the vampire was attacking. The next, he was slammed against the alley wall with such force that the bricks cracked beneath the impact.

A low grunt escaped his lips as Xander's grip tightened around his throat.

Xander's face remained eerily calm, but his eyes—sharp, piercing—held no warmth.

"Name," he demanded, voice flat. Controlled.

The vampire snarled, struggling against the iron-like grip.

"Screw you—"

Xander's fingers pressed down harder.

"Try again."

A strained choke. A flicker of hesitation. Then, finally:

"Jody," the vampire spat.

Xander glanced at me—just briefly, as if confirming that I was still in one piece—before turning his attention back to Jody.

His expression remained unreadable, but there was a quiet, simmering anger in his gaze.

"You were given orders," Xander said coolly. "You know the consequences for breaking them."

Jody bared his fangs. "I don't answer to Vlad."

Xander let out a sharp exhale through his nose—almost like a laugh. But there was no amusement in it.

"Then you answer to me now."

For a moment, I thought Xander was going to kill him right then and there. The tension in his stance, the slight shift of his grip—it was a heartbeat away from ending.

But then, instead, he loosened his hold just enough for Jody to breathe.

"Leave," Xander ordered, his voice quiet but laced with undeniable authority. "Or die."

Jody hesitated. His eyes flickered between us, lingering on me for just a second too long. But whatever he saw in Xander's expression made his decision for him.

Without another word, he vanished into the night.

Silence settled over the alley. The only sound was my own unsteady breathing.

Xander finally turned back to me. His gaze flickered downward, and for the first time, I realized my hands were still trembling.

"Are you hurt?" he asked.

I shook my head instinctively, but the slight sting in my wrist betrayed me. I tried to subtly cover the small scratch with my other hand, but Xander's eyes had already caught the movement.

His gaze darkened.

Before I could protest, he reached out, taking my wrist gently but firmly. His fingers brushed against the cut—just barely, but enough to make my breath hitch.

He inhaled sharply.

Then swallowed hard.

Like he was resisting something.

"Your blood," he murmured, voice lower now. "It's tempting. Really tempting."

A flicker of something unreadable crossed his expression before he wiped his thumb over the wound.

The blood vanished. The wound itself had been shallow—nothing serious—but his touch lingered for a fraction too long before he pulled away.

Xander's jaw tightened.

Without another word, he took my wrist again—this time, only to lead me out of the alley.

His grip was firm but careful, his pace brisk as if trying to put as much distance between us and what had just happened.

"Where are we going?" I asked, struggling to keep up with his long strides.

"To Vlad," he said simply.

"This was a breach of the agreement."

I swallowed, glancing back toward the dark alley we had left behind.