The Divergence

Lavinia pushed open the door to her room and stepped inside, closing it lightly behind her. 

The suite was quiet, with the curtains drawn across the windows and the faint hum of the hotel’s ventilation system providing the only background noise. 

Everything was exactly as she’d left it, from the neatly arranged furniture to the small collection of belongings scattered across the bedside table.

She glanced toward the windows, confirming that they were firmly shut before crouching to untie her shoes. 

Dawn had already arrived, and although the curtains kept the room comfortably dark, she had no intention of taking unnecessary chances with sunlight.

Her shoes came off one after another. Lavinia straightened, walked toward the bed, and promptly threw herself onto it. The mattress bounced beneath her.

“Ahhh.”

She stretched both arms above her head, pointed her toes, and arched her back until the fabric of her black dress pulled gently against her body. 

Then she relaxed, rolled onto her back, and stared at the ceiling.

What was she supposed to do now?

It was becoming an increasingly annoying question. She’d spent the past several hours thinking about humanity, supernatural species, the future, and whether the world was destined to collapse regardless of what anyone did.

Frankly, it was exhausting. Not physically, of course. But mentally? Absolutely.

Lavinia brought one hand to her forehead and sighed. The world wasn’t something she could simply change. 

Even with the strength she possessed, the wings she could summon, and the peculiar influence she apparently held over other vampires, she was still only one person.

One vampire.

She couldn’t force billions of humans to accept the supernatural species. 

She couldn’t force Witches, Elves, werewolves, and whatever else appeared in the future to behave peacefully. 

And she certainly couldn’t make the Thing in the Darkness change her mind about what constituted entertainment.

But...

Valerie. Gwendolyn. Adelaide. Rosaline. Celestine, Cordelia, Evelyn, Evangeline, Violetta, and the others.

Those were people Lavinia could do something for. People she genuinely loved.

She smiled faintly. It was strange, really. She couldn’t honestly claim to know them better than anyone else. 

In fact, when she stopped to think about it, there were enormous portions of their lives she knew practically nothing about.

What had Rosaline done before the First Divergence? What had Celestine wanted to become? What sort of childhood had Cordelia experienced?

Lavinia didn’t know. She hadn’t even thought to ask.

Not because she didn’t care, but because their lives before becoming vampires had gradually become less important to their conversations.

There were exceptions. Gwendolyn’s mother. Adelaide’s brother. Those relationships had survived the First Divergence, remaining important enough that they naturally came up whenever the vampires discussed their families.

But for others, quite a lot had simply been left behind.

Cordelia had once been married. Her husband had turned against her after she became a vampire, and whatever affection had existed between them hadn’t survived that change.

Violetta had lost something different. Trust. The basic trust of people who’d once served alongside her, who’d accepted her authority without questioning whether her species made her less loyal.

And the others had lost things too. Homes. Relationships. Names. Parts of themselves they might not even remember missing.

Lavinia rolled onto her side, resting her cheek against the sheets.

For her, the entire situation was almost absurd. She’d spent most of her human life assuming she’d eventually die alone.

Not necessarily because she was miserable or particularly unhappy. She’d simply never been someone who went out of his way to make friends. 

Meeting people required effort. Maintaining relationships required effort. 

And she’d generally preferred doing whatever interested her at the moment.

Yet now...

In a few short weeks, she’d somehow acquired a group of companions who might remain beside her for eternity. Lifelong friends. 

Although lifelong was a rather strange word to use when none of them possessed a natural lifespan.

And she loved them. That was the truly peculiar part.

Not all in exactly the same way, of course. What she felt for Valerie wasn’t identical to what she felt for Violetta, and the affection she shared with Gwendolyn wasn’t quite the same as her relationship with Adelaide.

But vampires were intimate creatures. 

Physical closeness came naturally. Hugs, teasing, cuddling, playful bites, and even more suggestive forms of affection rarely seemed to carry the same barriers they had as humans.

Sometimes it was difficult to distinguish ordinary fondness from attraction. Or affection from lust. Or whether those distinctions mattered quite as much anymore.

Lavinia rested one hand against her stomach, absently tracing the contours of her body through the fabric of her dress. 

Her fingers followed the gentle curve of her waist, then drifted upward toward her ribs before she let out another long exhale.

“Being a vampire is complicated.”

Her phone chimed, and one pointed ear twitched. Lavinia rolled over and reached toward the bedside table, retrieving the device before settling onto her stomach. 

She propped her chin against one hand and unlocked the screen.

Rebecca.

Hey, are you okay?

Lavinia blinked, then smiled. She quickly typed a response.

I’m fine! Why are you awake? Did you pull an all-nighter? The sun just came up.

The little indicator showing that Rebecca was typing appeared almost immediately, then vanished, then appeared again.

Lavinia watched it with mild amusement. Apparently Rebecca was having difficulty deciding what to say.

Eventually, a message arrived.

No, I woke up early. I saw some of the news about last night. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.

Another followed.

And thank you. Seriously. All of you. I don’t know what would’ve happened if the vampires hadn’t helped defend the city.

Lavinia smiled.

We live here too, you know! Besides, we could help, so we did.

She considered that for a moment before adding another message.

I’m glad you’re okay.

Rebecca responded with a small heart. Then a photograph appeared.

Lavinia opened it.

Rebecca was sitting somewhere indoors, apparently having taken the picture moments earlier. Her hair was a little disheveled, and faint dark circles rested beneath her eyes.

She looked tired. Understandably so. The Tide hadn’t exactly been conducive to a peaceful night’s sleep.

Still...

“Cute.”

Lavinia smiled at the photograph. Rebecca was undeniably attractive. Beautiful, really. 

Even with the tired expression and the slightly nervous smile, she possessed a softness that Lavinia found pleasant to look at.

But that was where the feeling seemed to stop.

Lavinia tilted her head. It wasn’t because Rebecca had done anything wrong. Quite the opposite. 

She was friendly, considerate, and apparently concerned enough about Lavinia to check on her at sunrise.

The human she’d once been might have liked someone like Rebecca. Perhaps even romantically.

But now...

Lavinia tapped her lower lip with one finger.

“Is it because she’s human?”

The question sounded strange when spoken aloud. She didn’t dislike humans. She certainly didn’t think there was anything inherently wrong with them.

But liking another vampire romantically was easy. Almost effortless.

With humans, there seemed to be something standing in the way. Not disgust. Not fear. Just a quiet reluctance she couldn’t quite explain.

Lavinia looked at Rebecca’s photograph again.

Perhaps it wasn’t entirely about attraction. Perhaps it was about time.

A vampire didn’t age. Even if her understanding of time remained similar to a human’s, her existence no longer followed the same boundaries.

Rebecca would grow older. Her appearance would change. Her body would weaken. Eventually, she would die.

And Lavinia...

Lavinia would still look exactly as she did now.

She rolled onto her back, holding the phone above her face.

“It’s funny.”

She remembered complaining about romance stories involving vampires who were hundreds of years old falling in love with teenagers. 

Not necessarily because she found the concept disgusting. It had simply seemed odd.

A vampire who looked twenty might have been alive for centuries, but expecting that vampire to pursue someone who physically resembled a grandmother would be equally jarring.

And what happened when the vampire reached three hundred years old? Four hundred? A thousand?

No living human could possibly match that age. Eventually, the difference became so enormous that human standards stopped making much sense.

Of course, none of that meant vampires couldn’t fall in love with humans. They could. Presumably.

But Lavinia couldn’t stop thinking about how fragile such a relationship would be.

A human could die from something utterly ordinary. A car accident. A sudden medical emergency. An act of violence. An unfortunate fall.

Things that would barely inconvenience a vampire could permanently end the life of someone she loved.

And Lavinia wouldn’t even be able to protect them throughout the day.

She could fly across the city in moments. She could overpower almost anything that threatened an ordinary human. She could heal from injuries that would kill someone else.

But when the sun rose, she had to retreat indoors. For hours. Every single day.

Lavinia rolled sideways until her upper body hung partly over the edge of the bed. Her golden hair spilled toward the floor while she idly swung her feet behind her.

Imagine loving someone and knowing that every morning meant leaving them to face the world without you. Not because you wanted to. Because you had no choice.

And if something happened while you were sleeping...

Lavinia frowned.

There were ways around some of those problems, of course. A human could become a Thrall. Or perhaps a vampire.

But those weren’t small decisions. They weren’t things someone should be expected to do simply because a vampire wanted a relationship to last forever.

Lavinia stared at her phone. Then she smiled and typed another message.

You look cute, even when you’re tired! Get some more rest if you can.

Rebecca’s typing indicator appeared almost immediately, and Lavinia giggled.

Before the response arrived, however, her ear twitched.

Footsteps. Quick ones. Approaching her room.

She blinked, then rolled off the bed and landed lightly on her feet.

“Hmm?”

The footsteps stopped outside. Lavinia walked toward the door and reached for the handle.

She pulled it open.

An orange blur collided with her.

“Lavinia!”

“Oof!”

Lavinia caught Valerie around the waist as the other vampire practically launched herself into her arms. They stumbled backward into the suite.

Or rather, Lavinia allowed herself to be pushed backward, because Valerie was already attempting to steer her toward the bed.

“Valerie!”

The orange-haired vampire laughed, and Lavinia laughed too.

“The door!”

“What?”

“The door’s still open!”

Valerie glanced over her shoulder.

“Oh.”

Without releasing Lavinia, she extended one foot and nudged the door shut. It clicked into place.

Then Valerie turned her attention back toward her.

“There.”

Lavinia’s eyes widened.

“Wait—”

Valerie pushed.

Lavinia resisted just enough to make the struggle entertaining, laughing as the two moved backward across the room.

“Valerie!”

“What?”

“You’re being very aggressive!”

“Good!”

The backs of Lavinia’s knees met the mattress, and she fell backward onto the bed. 

Valerie followed immediately, catching herself with one hand before settling astride Lavinia’s waist.

Lavinia stared up at her.

Vibrant orange hair framed Valerie’s beautiful face, spilling over her shoulders and brushing against Lavinia’s golden strands. 

Her empty red eyes were surrounded by equally orange lashes, making their crimson color seem even more striking.

Valerie smiled down at her.

Lavinia blinked.

“What’s wrong?”

“Wrong?” Valerie looked offended. “Nothing’s wrong.”

“Then why are you attacking me?”

“Attacking?”

“Yes.”

Valerie leaned closer.

“Lavinia.”

“Hm?”

“I have been very patient.”

Lavinia’s lips twitched.

“Have you?”

“Yes!” Valerie raised one finger. “First there were ceremonies.”

Another finger.

“Then there were divine crises.”

Another.

“Then there were Witches, Elves, military meetings, and everyone else constantly getting in my way.”

Lavinia’s shoulders began trembling.

Valerie narrowed her eyes.

“Are you laughing?”

“No.”

“You are!”

Lavinia burst into giggles.

Valerie huffed.

“I finally get you alone, and you’re laughing at me!”

“I’m sorry!”

“You don’t sound sorry.”

“I’m not!”

Valerie laughed despite herself. Then she reached toward the upper buttons of Lavinia’s dress.

Lavinia watched with open amusement as Valerie began undoing them one after another.

“Oh?”

Valerie ignored her.

“Apparently vampires can get a little heated,” Lavinia remarked.

“A little?”

“Maybe very heated?”

Valerie pulled the upper portion of the dress open just enough to expose more of Lavinia’s neck and collarbone. 

Then she lowered herself, her face disappearing against the side of Lavinia’s throat.

Lavinia giggled softly.

“You know, you could’ve fed from me around the others.”

Valerie’s arms tightened. She pressed more of her weight against Lavinia, pinning her comfortably into the mattress.

“I know.”

“Then why—”

Valerie bit.

Her fangs sank deeply into Lavinia’s neck, and Lavinia’s words dissolved into a soft, surprised sound before she relaxed.

The sensation wasn’t painful in any meaningful sense. Her body could regenerate the punctures almost as quickly as Valerie made them, and there was no danger of the bite becoming anything more than a pleasant exchange.

Valerie drank greedily. The taste of berries and pine flooded her mouth, rich and unmistakably Lavinia.

Vampire blood wasn’t warm like human blood. Nor did it feel particularly cold to another vampire. 

Their bodies shared the same cool temperature, and the blood passing over Valerie’s tongue felt refreshing rather than heated.

She swallowed, then drank again.

Lavinia slipped both arms around her. One hand settled against Valerie’s back, gently patting her, while the other rested between her shoulders.

She tilted her head slightly to offer better access.

There was something peculiar about vampire bites.

When a vampire bit a human, the experience carried a biological intensity that could overwhelm ordinary sensations. Between vampires, however, that particular effect was absent.

The bite itself wasn’t inherently euphoric. It was simply a bite.

But intention changed everything.

During rough play, a vampire might bite another while wrestling or fighting, and the act would carry an affectionate undertone even when the recipient was trying to escape.

Here, however...

Pinned beneath Valerie, with the orange-haired vampire holding her close and drinking from her throat, Lavinia found the experience entirely different.

There was no struggle she actually wanted to win. No reason to resist.

She simply held Valerie and allowed her to drink.

Valerie’s fingers tightened briefly against the sheets. She swallowed a few more times before eventually slowing.

Her fangs withdrew from Lavinia’s neck, leaving two small punctures that immediately began closing.

Valerie lifted her head. A faint trace of blood remained upon her lips, and she licked it away before smiling.

Lavinia looked up at her.

“Finished?”

“For now.”

“How ominous.”

Valerie giggled. Then her expression became playfully smug.

“You know, I thought you were supposed to be a Vampire Princess.”

Lavinia blinked.

“Hm?”

“A Princess.”

“Yes?”

Valerie leaned closer.

“Yet here you are, getting pinned down and drank from by a perfectly ordinary vampire like me.”

Lavinia frowned. Then she reached up and caught Valerie’s face between her hands.

Valerie blinked as her cheeks were gently squished.

“That’s not how it works.”

Valerie attempted to smile.

“Isn’t it?”

“No.”

Lavinia looked directly into her eyes.

“Being a Vampire Princess isn’t anything like human royalty.”

Valerie’s expression softened slightly.

“In that future, the other vampires didn’t treat me like I was some untouchable queen,” Lavinia continued. 

“They played with me, talked to me, teased me, and acted pretty much like vampires normally do.”

She tilted her head.

“Sure, I had authority. And a castle. And a lot of followers.”

“A very large castle,” Valerie remarked.

“A very large castle,” Lavinia agreed, smiling. “But that didn’t mean I could just lord over everyone.”

Valerie listened.

“There were other Princesses too. Vampires had options. If they didn’t like me, they could go somewhere else.”

Lavinia released Valerie’s cheeks.

“I don’t want being a Princess to mean I stop being one of you.”

Valerie regarded her for a moment. Then she caught Lavinia’s hands and gently pulled them away from her face.

Instead of answering immediately, she leaned sideways and dropped onto the mattress beside her.

Lavinia turned toward her.

Valerie stretched one arm across Lavinia’s waist, her fingers tracing an idle path along the fabric of her dress.

“I know.”

Lavinia blinked.

“You know?”

“Mhm.” Valerie smiled. “You won’t change.”

Lavinia stared at her, then laughed softly.

“I’m glad you have that much faith in me.”

“Of course.”

“But...”

Valerie raised an eyebrow.

Lavinia looked toward the ceiling.

“I don’t think I’ll always be the same.”

Valerie’s smile faded slightly.

“I’ve already changed so much,” Lavinia continued. “Not just physically. The way I think about humans, about vampires, about everything...”

She looked toward Valerie.

“It’s different.”

Valerie listened quietly.

“And if we really do live forever, then how could I possibly stay exactly the same person?”

Lavinia smiled faintly.

“A hundred years is a long time. A thousand years is longer. Ten thousand years...”

She shook her head.

“I can’t even imagine it.”

Valerie rolled her eyes. Then she reached forward and placed one finger against Lavinia’s lips.

“Shh.”

Lavinia blinked.

“Even if you change,” Valerie said, “I don’t think I’ll ever grow to dislike you.”

Lavinia stared at her.

“Or hate you,” Valerie added, her smile returning. “And that’s without being a vampire interfering.”

Lavinia’s eyes narrowed playfully.

Valerie’s finger remained against her mouth, and Lavinia opened her lips, catching the finger between them.

Valerie blinked.

“Lavinia?”

The golden-haired vampire gently guided the fingertip toward one of her fangs. A tiny prick opened the skin.

Valerie’s eyes widened slightly as Lavinia closed her lips around the finger and sucked lightly.

Tangerine. Honey.

The familiar sweetness spread across her tongue, unmistakably Valerie.

Valerie giggled.

“You little—”

Lavinia released her finger, then stuck out her tongue.

“Bleh.”

Valerie laughed.

Lavinia smiled.

“None of us actually know where being a vampire ends and our own feelings begin.”

Valerie tilted her head.

“So?”

“So your statement was just words.”

Valerie stared at her, while Lavinia looked rather pleased with herself.

“We can’t know whether you’d feel the same way if you weren’t a vampire. Maybe you would. Maybe you wouldn’t.”

Valerie’s expression became thoughtful for approximately two seconds.

Then she smiled.

“Okay.”

Lavinia blinked.

“Okay?”

“Mhm.”

Valerie moved closer, and Lavinia watched her suspiciously.

“What are you—”

Valerie caught her around the waist and pulled her into a tight embrace.

Lavinia made a small surprised sound as her face was pressed against Valerie’s shoulder.

“There.”

Lavinia giggled.

“Valerie!”

“No more overthinking.”

“That’s not how thinking works!”

“Then stop doing it.”

Valerie’s arms tightened, and Lavinia squirmed slightly.

“I’m being crushed.”

“You’re a vampire.”

“That’s not an excuse!”

“It is just for today.”

Lavinia laughed and returned the embrace.

Valerie rested her cheek against Lavinia’s golden hair.

“Even if I wasn’t a vampire,” she murmured, “I’d like you.”

Lavinia went quiet.

Valerie stroked her back.

“I don’t need to know exactly how much of that feeling comes from being a vampire. I know I like being with you.”

She smiled.

“I like talking to you. I like making you laugh. I like how you get excited about silly things, and how you try to act like you’re not worried when you’re obviously worried.”

Lavinia’s pointed ear twitched.

“And I like how you let me do things like this.”

Valerie squeezed her again.

Lavinia giggled.

“That’s a very long list.”

“I have more.”

“Oh?”

“Lots more.”

Lavinia lifted her head slightly, and Valerie looked down at her.

For a moment, neither spoke.

Then Lavinia smiled.

“I’m honored to hear it.”

Valerie’s expression brightened.

“You should be.”

Lavinia laughed and settled against Valerie again, slipping her arms more comfortably around the orange-haired vampire’s waist.

Valerie adjusted the blankets beneath them, then rested one hand against the back of Lavinia’s head.

The room remained quiet. Beyond the curtains, morning sunlight continued spreading across Oakridge, leaving the suite in comfortable darkness.

Lavinia closed her eyes.

The scent of tangerine and honey surrounded her, mingling with the familiar sweetness of berries and pine.

Valerie gently combed her fingers through Lavinia’s golden hair, occasionally catching a strand and letting it slip between her fingers.

After a while, Lavinia shifted closer.

Valerie smiled and tightened her embrace.

Neither seemed particularly inclined to move.