THE UNDYING | TWILIGHT

10. Temperance

Demetri clenched his fist but said nothing, so Heidi went on talking.

"Aro sent me with a message: get it together, or you'll be answering to him. You know how he hates to get involved in these petty disputes, but by disrupting our work environment, you've left him with little choice. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to get her out of here before she stirs everyone into a frenzy."

Demetri rolled his eyes. "As if she could do that."

Oh, but she could. While the elder guards had no trouble restraining themselves, the younger, less experienced members were struggling to control their innate urges. Little by little, the thirst started to get to them, like a horrible itch they couldn't scratch. If the irritant wasn't removed quickly, well, Heidi would need to find another secretary.

The girl hadn't moved since Heidi took her assailant away; like a frightened child, she stood trembling in the corner. Her body was covered with tiny cuts that were dripping with blood, but the stench of her was more horrific than anything. Without even tasting her, Heidi knew that her blood was of a very poor quality, probably because she was of poor health herself.

Heidi snapped her fingers in front of the girl's face. "Hey, snap out of it. We're leaving."

When she failed to respond, Heidi grabbed her wrist, the same wrist Demetri had taken, and the girl winced.

"What's your ...?" Upon closer examination, Heidi noticed the girl's wrist was swollen and badly bruised. "That son of a ..." She clenched her jaw, holding back her anger. "Okay, hospital first, then home." And for his sake, it had better not be broken.

✧ ✧ ✧

When the clock struck five, the mayor's staff started to pack up their things and leave for the day, but Olivia Distefano stayed at her desk. Outside her office, she could hear women gossiping and making dinner arrangements, much like she used to do with Adrianna when she was still alive. Adrianna preferred small restaurants with good, hearty food that was easy on her budget, but that was before she accepted the position downstairs. After that, it was always the very best of what Volterra had to offer, and she would never settle for less.

"Why did you do it?" Olivia wondered as she reached for a photo of them from their university days, back when Adrianna preferred libraries over designer stores and comfy jeans over suffocating dresses. "You didn't need them. You had us. You were like family."

But, as her father always reminded her, she was not family. She did not share their blood.

As she placed the photo back on her desk, Olivia saw something move across the borders of her vision, something black as a shadow. Rising from her chair, she walked to the door and peered outside, glancing up and down the dark hallway, seeing nothing.

But someone was there. She could feel their eyes on her, traveling up and down her body.

Shivers rippled over her, and it was hard to say she didn't enjoy it because she did. She loved the intoxicating rush that came with the fear of knowing something so dark and powerful was just downstairs, and at any moment one of them could burst into her office, tear off her clothes, and rip open her throat. Part of her wanted that more than anything, and she fantasized about it every night.

"Olivia, dear," Michele said, pulling her away from her thoughts, "are you almost ready?"

Olivia smiled. "Yes, Father, just let me get my coat."

They went to dinner together, as they usually did after work, and at the restaurant they were joined by Elena Distefano, Michele's second wife and stepmother to his children. The Parisienne model turned socialite was ten minutes late, and when she finally arrived, she spent another ten minutes chatting with the other patrons like they were very dear friends. In truth, she had met them only a few times and barely remembered their names.