Vampire and Witch (GL) - Chapter 9

In the early morning, soft sunlight streamed through the window, warming the bed.

Grey opened her eyes in a haze, only to jump as a scalding breath brushed against her earlobe. She turned her head and was met with Sif’s soft golden hair and deep, exquisite features. Even the fine peach fuzz on Sif’s cheeks was visible. It had to be said—Sif was beautiful, striking every one of Grey’s aesthetic chords.

Grey gently brushed a stray lock of hair from Sif’s face, studying her. Perhaps tickled by the touch, Sif furrowed her brows and tightened her grip on Grey’s arm, nuzzling her chin into Grey’s shoulder.

Truly a clingy puppy.

Grey couldn’t help but smile, tenderly stroking Sif’s head. She didn’t notice that from her blind spot, the “puppy” had her eyes closed, her lips curved in a faint, knowing smirk.

Leaving Sif’s room, Grey ran into Sister Hailey. Despite their friction the previous day, Hailey seemed unbothered, offering a polite smile. “Good morning, Ms. Florence. Is Sif still sleeping?”

Grey nodded. “Yes, she hasn’t woken up yet.”

“How rare,” Hailey remarked. “Sif is usually such an early riser.”

Grey felt a subtle pang of discomfort. Hailey’s tone suggested a deep familiarity with Sif. She recalled what Sif had told her about the Janos Church. On the surface, it was a minor religious group, but in reality, it existed for vampire hunters. They monitored Europe for monsters and provided “support staff”—attendants whose sole job was to provide hunters with fresh blood.

Hailey was Sif’s designated attendant. Even though Sif had made it clear she had never taken blood from Hailey, the thought still left Grey feeling strangely unsettled.

“I thought I heard someone talking about me sleeping in,” Sif’s deep voice rang out from behind.

Grey turned and watched Sif approach. Facing that beautiful face in the morning light, her heart began to race.

“Good morning, Grey. Did you sleep well?” Sif smiled warmly.

“Very well… Good… Good morning, Sif.”

Grey’s throat felt dry. Something felt different, so she quickly looked away. Sif naturally took her hand and led her to the courtyard to wash up. They stood shoulder to shoulder, and Sif even braided Grey’s hair into twin plaits.

Sif’s sudden increase in affection was overwhelming. Was it because of the blood? Did vampires develop a dependency on their source? Or was it simply that Grey’s blood was so sweet it acted like a mood-enhancer? That seemed like a logical enough explanation.

Grey stared at Sif, her thoughts a jumbled mess. They locked eyes for a long time until Sif’s face leaned in closer. Grey snapped back to reality and leaned away. “What are you doing, leaning in so close…?”

“So I can see you better.”

Sif’s warm breath carried the scent of magnolia and rose—Grey’s favorite perfume. It felt familiar yet new, as if a fresh sensory memory had been seared into her mind—a scent that would forever remind her of Sif.

Seeing Grey dazing off again, Sif carefully nuzzled her nose against Grey’s. Seeing no resistance, she gently wrapped her arms around Grey’s slim waist—only to be pushed away by a palm to the face.

“Don’t push your luck,” Grey muttered reproachfully, breaking free and walking away quickly before her burning face could be exposed.

Life seemed to return to a routine. Sif arrived every morning with bread. Sophia, hearing of Sif’s return, frequented the shop as well.

The only difference was the intimacy. When Grey worked, Sif liked to lean against her back to sniff the perfume on her neck, often circling her waist. When Grey wrote notes, Sif would lie on the table, chin resting on her arms, watching her every move. When their eyes met, Sif would offer a dazzling, captivating smile.

Grey had rarely been this close to anyone. Even with Sophia, it was a sisterly bond—nothing like this… ambiguity.

Having lived so long, Grey understood human emotions. She could sense Sif’s feelings shifting. She just wasn’t sure if it was genuine affection or a blood-driven dependency.

Homosexual. Grey had first seen the word in a medical text under psychiatry. She’d seen men kissing in a library once and heard streetwalkers talk about “gaywomen.” She’d even seen private paintings of women embracing. 1)

In this world, such love was branded a moral sin, a criminal beginning, and a mental illness. 2) Even if they were ordinary, their future would be bleak—and they were far from ordinary.

“Are you tired?” Cool fingertips began massaging Grey’s temples, pulling her from her thoughts.

Looking into those clear amber eyes, Grey felt a pang of regret. She shouldn’t have promised to let Sif stay. She loved having Sif there—the bread, the tea, the dependency—but it was becoming harder to refuse her.

She thought of Sif’s parents. If other vampires found out about them, Sif would be in danger, and Grey’s own identity would be exposed. They would face hunters, vampires, and the scorn of the world.

Better to kill these feelings before they take root, Grey thought. We can be friends, but only friends.

She pushed Sif’s hands away. “I’m fine.”

Sif froze at the sudden coldness. She tried to step closer, but Grey retreated, avoiding her gaze.

“Grey? What’s wrong? Did I do something?”

Sif’s voice softened into the whimpering of an abandoned pup. Grey bit her lip. This unconscious pouting was the most lethal thing about her.

As Grey turned to leave, Sif caught her in a full embrace. Grey’s lips accidentally brushed Sif’s icy cheek, a sharp contrast to her own rising heat. Startled, Grey broke free, her elbow knocking a small bottle off the table. Crash. Petal fragments scattered everywhere.

Silence fell until Sif whispered, “I’ll clean it up.”

The shop door opened. Viscountess Arnos entered, looking haggard. Her usual elegance was gone—her hair was messy, and her jewelry was missing.

“Grey, I need your help,” the Viscountess pleaded, her voice heavy. “They say you’re a doctor. Please, come look at my son.”

“I’m not a doctor, Madam. You should go to the hospital.”

“I’ve tried! No one can help! They say you know medicine and herbs… John is my only son. Please!”

Viscountess Arnos gripped Grey’s shoulders. Grey noticed the dark circles under her eyes. “Madam… what are the symptoms?”

“John… he stopped talking. He won’t eat or drink. He locks himself away and screams hysterically at night.”

Grey’s heart sank. It sounded exactly like the monsters Sif described.

“When did this start?”

“A few days ago, Arnos took him somewhere. Since they returned, John has been… sick. Arnos won’t let me call for help, so I had to find you secretly.”

The Viscount took his own son and turned him into a monster? Grey was speechless.

“I’ll visit this afternoon,” Grey said.

“No! Now! It’s urgent!” The Viscountess was desperate, clearly afraid the secret would leak.

Grey sighed. “Give me a moment to pack my supplies.”

Once the Viscountess left, Sif jumped up. “Why did you agree? You know he’s likely a monster!”

“I have to see for myself. If it’s dangerous, I’ll find a way out. I’m a witch, Sif.”

“It’s too dangerous!” Sif grabbed her arm. “Why are you always so passive with danger? Like when I held a knife to you… you need to value your life more!”

“I don’t want to discuss this now,” Grey said, pulling away.

Sif eventually sighed and handed Grey a small black bag containing the scythe. “Take this. It can kill vampires.”

“No, what if you are in danger?”

Sif pouted. “Then let me come with you. I’ll protect you.”

“The Viscountess wants this kept secret. She won’t let a companion in.” Grey hugged Sif, resting her head on her shoulder. “Don’t worry. I can burn a vampire if I have to.”

Sif grumbled but held her tight. “I’ll follow you secretly. If there’s trouble, I’m breaking down the door.”

“Alright,” Grey whispered.

“Grey,” Sif interrupted. “For your safety, this is necessary.”

“What’s—”

Sif’s face closed in. Her eyes flashed crimson. She tilted Grey’s chin up and pressed a gentle kiss to her face. Her cool lips breathed hot air onto Grey’s skin, trailing from her jaw to her neck.

Grey went rigid, but under Sif’s tender assault, she felt herself stir. Sif’s hands roamed her back and waist, eventually lightly cupping her breast.

“Hah… ungh…”

A sharp sting on her neck made Grey let out a soft moan. She pulled Sif’s hair to break free. “Sif! What are you doing?!” She clutched the bleeding puncture, her heart hammering.

Sif licked the blood from her lips with a lazy, satisfied smile. “Now you have my scent on you, Grey. No other vampire will touch you.”

Grey glared at her, her face a deep, ripened red. Marking me is one thing, she grumbled internally, but did she have to make it feel so good?

She turned her back to Sif to hide her blush. “You’re pushing your luck,” she whispered.