While Ryan had been out navigating that sea of uniforms, the atmosphere inside room 314 had taken a completely different, clandestine turn.
Damon had stood by the bathroom door, his torn leather jacket discarded, watching Chloe's still, shivering form on the bed. The silver-laced toxicity in his belly had entirely faded and his skin pristine porcelain once more under the influence of the fresh nourishment. But as he looked at the human girl, a cold, analytical curiosity had sparked in his mind. The compulsion Lira had placed into her was perfect, but it was a temporary fix. A human mind under constant, heavy manipulation would eventually begin to fray at the edges, creating cognitive dissonance that a sharp investigator like Quive Stephenson might detect.
Damon walked over to the desk, picked up his mobile phone, and dialed a secure, encrypted line. It rang twice before Lira's low, velvety purr answered.
"Damon," Lira had murmured, the faint sound of fabric shears and classical music humming in the background of her textile studio. "I assume our guest hasn't expired? I'd hate to have to design a burial shroud on a Saturday afternoon."
"She is stable," Damon replied, his voice a cool, flat rasp as he leaned against the window frame, watching a police patrol sweep the lawn below. "But I am looking at her now, and I want to try out something and that would require I undo the compulsion entirely."
On the other end of the line, Lira let out a sharp, melodic laugh filled with amusement and subtle suspicion. "Undo it? Oh, Damon. Don't tell me the great, stoic scholar has finally developed a taste for companionship. Are you planning to turn the poor girl into a vampire? Because Elder kael will absolutely have fit if you start siring campus freshmen without his permission."*
A faint, ironic smirk touched the corner of Damon's lips, though his eyes remained completely serious. "I am not entirely denying the utility of a loyal follower, Lira. But that is not my current purpose. I have a hypothesis...If we keep her under the spell, her behavior around the other students will become rigid at some point which could alarm unwanted ears. The detectives are trained to spot anomalous compliance which is why I want to test a different path—one of absolute truth."
Lira's laughter subsided into a curious, quiet hum. "And how do you intend to convince a human girl to keep the secret of a blood-drinking aristocrat after she's felt your teeth in her veins?"
"By showing her the alternative," Damon said calmly. "I will convince her of how crazy society would see her if she spoke the truth and how in the end, if the government hunters realize what she knows, she won't be treated as a victim—she will be treated as an asset to be liquidated or contained".
"So then she will realize that keeping our secret is the only way to ensure her own survival." Lira added with a chuckle.
There was a long pause on the line, the sound of a silk bolt shifting echoing through the speaker. "And you think any normal folk would believe your bullocks," Lira conceded, her tone carrying a hint of genuine fascination. "Very well, Damon. Feel free to release my hold on her at your end, wish you luck on you spilling your nonsense. Try not to snap her neck if she starts screaming."
The call disconnected with a soft click. Damon set the phone down, walked over to the side of the bed, and the Instant, Chloe's eyes flew open, he Whispered to her "remember" simply undoing the compulsion.
A sharp, blinding headache rushed into her skull like a physical blow, a consequence of the sudden, violent return of her autonomy. Her breathing turned frantic, gasping for air as the raw, unedited memories of the entire morning flooded her consciousness—the dark bathroom, the elongated ivory fangs, the terrifying, cold strength of the boy who had dug his teeth into her flesh.
Panic seized her completely. With a desperate, uncoordinated lurch, her weak, blood-deprived body failed her. She slipped from the mattress, tumbling heavily to the hard linoleum floor, the wool blanket tangling around her legs as she scrambled backward until her spine slammed against the base of the wooden desk.
"Stay back!" Chloe shrieked, her voice cracking with pure, primal horror as she stared up at Damon. Her chest heaved, her hands shaking violently as she pressed herself into the corner. "You... you're a monster! You and Lira... oh my god, the things I saw... the blood..."
Damon didn't move. He didn't lunge, nor did his expression alter from its calm, aristocratic neutrality. He simply stood by the bed, looking down at her with a detached, quiet intensity.
"Calm yourself, lady," Damon said in a low, steady baritone voice. "If I intended to kill you, you would not have woken up. You are currently in my room, safe, and the bleeding has stopped."
"Safe?" Chloe laughed hysterically, tears of terror welling in her eyes as she clutched her bandaged forearm. "You drank my blood! You're one of those things from the stories... a vampire! I'm going to the police. I'm going to tell those detectives downstairs exactly what you did to me!"