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

Andrew jolted upright from the chair as a loud bang slammed against the door. His pulse jumped, heart hammering in his chest.

"What the hell?!" he muttered, gripping the gun tighter.

The pounding came again, harder this time, shaking the frame and his nerves.

"Fuck it!"

He squeezed his eyes shut, the muzzle still pressed under his jaw, but another blow hit before he could pull the trigger.

Clicking his tongue, he slammed the gun down onto the table and pushed himself to his feet.

"I swear to God, if this isn't important, I'm going to kill whoever it is!" he grumbled as he stomped toward the door.

The moment he swung it open, he froze. A small figure stood before him, head bowed, dark hair cut short and damp from the night.

"Uh… who are you?" he asked, confusion coloring his tone.

The girl lifted her face, and the dim hallway light caught her crimson eyes. Andrew's breath caught.

He knew that face; round, once soft and innocent, often framed by round glasses. Now it looked pale and hollow, stripped of all warmth.

It was Maria.

"Mr. Danford…" Her voice cracked as tears welled up in her eyes.

"Can I come in? I—I don't know where else to go. David is gone."

Andrew's throat tightened. He simply nodded and stepped aside, letting her enter.

He closed the door behind her and watched as Maria stood in front of the flickering television, unsure of what to do. She looked fragile and lost.

"Just sit anywhere," he said softly.

Maria nodded and settled onto the edge of the long sofa. Her body was tense, her gaze darting around the room as if expecting something to leap out of the shadows.

"Can I… have something to drink?" she asked after a moment. "My throat's dry. I'm so thirsty."

Andrew exhaled slowly and walked over, sitting across from her. "Vampires don't need water," he said gently. "That thirst you're feeling, it's something else."

Maria's shoulders began to tremble. "I… I need to drink someone's blood?"

Her voice cracked as she covered her face with shaking hands. "But I don't want to. I don't want to be this."

He watched her in silence, pity and sadness carving deep lines into his face.

He didn't know Maria well, but David had spoken of her, Seamus's only real friend when he was a boy.

She had always been kind. She didn't deserve this.

"Damn that Corvane," he hissed under his breath.

Maria shook her head, voice barely above a whisper. "It's… it's not them."

Andrew frowned. "What?"

"It's Seamus," she murmured, her words trembling but clear.

He blinked, stunned. "Seamus? What do you mean by that?" He leaned forward, gripping her shoulders.

Maria lifted her head, and the pain in her red eyes twisted his stomach. "It was him," she said, voice breaking.

"Seamus told Diana to do it. He made her turn me. He turned me into a monster!"

For a moment, Andrew couldn't breathe. His hand fell away as he stared at her, mind blank.

He covered his mouth, his thoughts spiraling, trying to make sense of what he had just heard.

"Seamus…" he whispered to himself.

Either his son had fallen apart completely… or he had become something worse. Whatever the reason, Maria was here now; broken, terrified, and alone.

He couldn't just let her wander into the night like this.

He stood and slowly reached out, wrapping his arms around her trembling frame.

"It's okay, Maria. I'm here. We'll find a place for you. Somewhere safe."

But she stiffened, then shoved him back with surprising strength. "You want to put me with those monsters?!"

She shouted, her voice cracking into a sob. "I don't want that! I'd rather die!"

"But you'll be scavengers if you don't join a covenant, Maria. You need that silver blood to control your thirst, otherwise, you'll lose yourself completely."

That was the rule every vampire knew. To survive, you had to belong somewhere, under the protection of a covenant, great or small.

Few ever managed to live without one. Those who did were rarities, most of them lost their mind.

The silence between them stretched long, heavy, until Maria finally whispered, "Then can you kill me?"

Her tone was flat, almost serene as if she'd already accepted it. But Andrew could see the flicker of terror beneath it.

"Maria," he said softly, "death isn't the answer. You still have time and a future you can build, even like this. Being a vampire doesn't mean the end."

He hesitated, then added, quieter, "Believe me… the afterlife isn't any kinder than this world."

Maria's mouth trembled. "I still don't want this. Not me, Mr. Danford, I don't want to be a monster who killed her own parents. I know you don't understand—"

"I do," he cut her off sharply, the edge in his voice surprising even himself. He exhaled and steadied it.

"Believe me, I do. Now please rest. Think about it more when you're calm, alright?"

He brushed his fingers lightly across her cheek. She looked away, her eyes glassy, then gave a small nod.

Andrew showed her to the only spare room in the house, closing the door behind her.

When he returned to the living room, he let out a long breath and rubbed his temple.

"Guess the universe doesn't want me dead just yet," he muttered under his breath.

He took his phone from his pocket to contact Seamus but only found dozens of unread messages from Dylan. He sighed hard, dragging a hand down his face.

***

"My dad said Maria's with him," Seamus finally exhaled in relief, sinking down onto the bed where Maria was supposed to sleep.

He typed a quick reply, hoping his father would convince her to come back. The response came almost instantly:

[I'll do my best.]

A faint smile tugged at Seamus's lips, though guilt still weighed heavy. He'd just rejected his father not long ago and now he was messaging him like nothing had happened.

How bad of a son could he be?

Madeline sat beside him with a quiet sigh. "You need to bring her to me tomorrow. She doesn't have to join Velstrath, I'll give her my blood."

"Thank you, Madeline." He smiled weakly.

"Didn't think you'd be this helpful. I thought you'd be… more like Isolde."

She frowned, arms crossing. "Don't insult me. And I'm not doing this to help you, I'm doing it for Maria. She's the only innocent one in this mess."

Seamus nodded, his expression softening. He knew Madeline had a thousand ways to twist the knife, she could've blamed him, mocked him, used Maria's fate to manipulate him like Isolde often did.

But she didn't.

And that alone made him grateful.

Slowly, he leaned his head against her shoulder. "If you ever need something… anything… just tell me."

Madeline's gaze flicked down at him, unimpressed. "I need you to stop clinging to me. I'm not your mother."

He lifted a brow. "I never said you were."

"Oh?" Her lips curved into a sly smirk. "Good. I was starting to think you had a mommy issue, especially considering how Isolde treats you in bed."

He chuckled under his breath. "So you are jealous. Tell me, how many times have you seen me having sex with her? Must be rough, being able to glimpse the future."

Madeline scoffed. "That's gross, Seamus. And we don't see the future. Just threads of fate. Like fragile, shifting things that change with the smallest push. Like this."

She shoved him back onto the bed and climbed on top of him, her voice dropping low.

"If you want to have sex," she said flatly, "just say so. You don't need to bore me with small talk first."

Seamus laughed, "Having someone that can see the 'thread of fate' isn't that bad."

"Sstt, stop talking already."

Madeline's tone dripped with amusement as she unbuttoned his shirt one by one, her long nails grazing against his skin just enough to make him twitch.

The faint scrape of her touch sent shivers down his spine. She leaned forward and licked his chest slowly from top to bottom, tasting the salt of his skin before her mouth wandered lower toward his trousers.

Her tongue moved lazily, teasing, leaving a damp trail as her hand traced his crotch, his cock already hard.

"I haven't even done anything yet. You're easy to please, huh?"

Her golden eyes gleamed beneath her lashes, glinting like molten metal as they locked onto him.

"You said I can't talk anymore," he breathed, his voice rough with restraint. "So let my dick do his job."

Madeline's laugh was sharp and crisp, vibrating against the silence between them. She lowered his zipper with her teeth, making him flinch from the heat of her breath.

When his cock sprang free, she tilted her head, letting her hair fall like a silken curtain around her face.

Her fingers wrapped around him gently, possessively, and she brought her chin close, her lips curling into a faint smirk.

"Don't worry," she murmured, her voice sultry and amused. "I'll make sure it does its job harder now."