My Stepmom Is A Vampire & Her Entire Bloodline Wants To Breed Me

Chapter 42: Capturing Isolde

David’s sword trembled ever so slightly, but he forced his grip to steady.

He was the leader of this squad, he could not let them see the fear crawling under his skin, nor admit how utterly terrifying the creature standing before them truly was.

The Head of Bork Vampire Hunters had been a fool to arm him with nothing more than a single silver-etched bracelet, claiming it could restrain her power. David could still hear the man’s pompous voice:

”Put it on her hand and it’s over. Don’t back down, David, this mission will decide the future of human–vampire relations!”

It had been the most transparent lie David had ever heard. He knew perfectly well this wasn’t about justice, it was about the higher-ups itching to shatter the fragile peace and ignite a war they would lose.

But he couldn’t deny the Head request and not tarnished his name.

”Matriarch of Velstrath,” David called out, he tried to calm his tone, ”just surrender. Fighting will only hurt both sides.”

”Both sides?” Isolde laughed, a mocking sound.

”Oh, don’t flatter yourself. We both know which side will be reduced to blood and bones.”

Before his eyes, her form dissolved into a storm of fiery moths, scattering into the air.

The office around them melted away—the ceiling sagging and dripping like candle wax—until the world above them burned orange. Moths fell like embers from the sky.

”Stay calm!” David barked to his squad, though his voice cracked. ”It’s just a dream! She can’t kill us in a dream!”

But then Maria turned to face him, only it wasn’t her anymore. Isolde’s perfect, cruel smile was stretched across her face.

”Oh, really, Lead?” she purred. ”Or is that just the comforting lie you tell yourself because you’ve no idea what I can do?”

Betty’s voice cut in, but when David turned to her, her features too had twisted into Isolde’s.

”Poor Lead,” she crooned, tilting her head. ”If you die here... you’ll never see Elle again.”

Something in him snapped. ”You vile! Don’t you dare touch my team, and don’t you ever put your filthy mouth on my daughter’s name!”

The two Isoldes laughed in perfect harmony, the sound echoing from every direction until rage drowned out his reason.

His surroundings blurred, and the next moment he was crashing through thick underbrush, sprawling into the damp earth of a forest floor.

David blinked as the ground beneath him seemed to vanish, but instead of fear, a sudden surge of rage flooded his mind. His vision tunneled.

Without thinking, he strode toward Betty and seized her by the throat, his grip tightening until his knuckles turned bone-white.

”You bitch! How do you know about my daughter?!” he roared.

”Da—David!”

Betty gasped, her nails digging deep into his hands, tearing flesh until blood ran freely, but he didn’t let go. Her face was turning a dark, sickly purple.

From behind, Maria grabbed at his arms, her voice breaking in panic. ”David! Stop it! You’re killing her!”

”Shut up! Both of you can’t deceive me! I know exactly who you are!” he snarled, eyes wild with fury.

The woman in his grasp—Betty—began to weaken. Her struggles slowed. Then she went limp, her mouth slack as drool slid down her chin, her wide eyes fixed in a glassy, horrified stare.

A faint, involuntary smile tugged at the corner of David’s lips—just for a moment—before a chilling laughter echoed through the forest.

His stomach dropped. He turned toward the sound, and his blood ran cold.

Betty lay dead on the forest floor, Maria kneeling beside her, clutching her lifeless body and sobbing in shock.

The fiery moths swarmed together, merging into the shape of a tall, regal figure.

Isolde stepped forward from the haze, still laughing as if the tragedy before her were the finest entertainment she had ever seen.

”How does it feel,” she asked, voice rich with mockery, ”to kill your own ally? Do you savor it? Because I saw it, Lead, the little smile you tried to hide.”

David’s eyes blazed. ”You! This is your doing! All of it!”

He charged her, sword flashing, and with one vicious strike he cleaved her form clean in two.

But her body dissolved instantly into moths, scattering into the air before re-forming at his side.

”What do you mean, my doing?” she said lightly, almost curious. ”It was your hands that strangled her. Your will that ended her life. I simply watched from afar, doing nothing.”

Her smile turned sharp. ”And yet...” She chuckled, the sound low and wicked. ”Humans always need someone else to blame for their own sins.”

”You tricked me! I would never do something so low!” David’s voice tore from his throat, raw and furious.

He refused to look down. His heart clung to the desperate hope that this was only a dream, that Betty wasn’t really dead, that Isolde was merely toying with his mind.

”But you did it with poor Elle.” Isolde’s tone shifted, her frown laced with sorrow. ”Why did you leave your daughter inside that burning house, Lead?”

The words hit like a blade to the gut. Cold sweat slid down his temple as the memory surged back.

How his little girl had been taken by vampires while flames devoured the building. How he had chosen to save the other hunters first... instead of her.

”No... that’s not true,” he stammered. ”I didn’t know it would happen... I didn’t know!” His voice shook, as did the hand clutching his sword.

Maria’s voice sliced through the heavy air. ”David! Snap out of it! She’s trying to break you! She’s a Psyche-type vampire! She’s attacking your mind!”

His dark eyes widened. The fog of guilt cleared just enough for him to understand. ”Thank you... Maria.”

His grip tightened. The blade in his hand flared red, like it had caught fire, and without another word, he charged.

The sword bit into Isolde’s body. Blood spattered across the ground in a crimson arc. She crumpled. In the instant she fell, it wasn’t Isolde lying there.

It was his daughter.

Her long blonde hair was matted with blood, her small frame collapsing into the dirt.

David’s entire body shook. ”Ahh... ahhh...” The sound tore from him, somewhere between a sob and a scream.

She looked up at him with wide, glassy eyes, her lips trembling. ”Why did you kill me again, Daddy? It’s burning... it hurts... and now... you’ve cut me with your sword too...”