Stefan's face said everything his words didn't.
"You want to drink my blood." He stood in the Salvatore boarding house living room, arms crossed, expression caught between concern and curiosity. "As an experiment."
"As a controlled test." I sat on the couch, hands steady despite the nervous energy thrumming through me. "I've been trying to develop my sensing abilities for a week. Nothing works. But the blood bond with Vicki—that connection was real. My blood inside a vampire created something. I want to see if the reverse unlocks something in me."
"Vampire blood in human systems has effects." Stefan's voice was careful. "Healing, yes. But also heightened emotions, potential dependency, and if you die with it in your system—"
"I become a vampire. I know." The risk had been the first thing I'd researched. "But I'm not planning to die tonight, and I'm not asking for enough to create dependency. One vial. One test. If it doesn't work, we don't try again."
Stefan studied me with the particular intensity of someone who'd lived 163 years. I'd learned to recognize that look—the ancient calculating behind young features, the weight of experience that no teenager should carry.
"Why do you think this will work?"
"Because Stage 1 only lets me affect blood I can sense." I'd rehearsed this explanation on the drive over. "Right now, I can sense my own blood and blood I'm touching. Everything else is invisible. But the bond with Vicki worked across distance—I could feel her anywhere in the room. Something about supernatural blood creates connections my power can use."
"So you want to add supernatural blood to your system. Open the pathways."
"Yes."
He was quiet for a long moment. The fire crackled in the hearth—Zach must have lit it before retiring for the night—and somewhere in the house, a clock ticked steadily.
"One vial," Stefan said finally. "I'll prepare it. If you start feeling wrong—aggressive, paranoid, emotionally volatile—you tell me immediately. Vampire blood affects everyone differently."
"Understood."
He disappeared into the kitchen and returned with a crystal glass containing maybe two ounces of dark liquid. His blood. I could smell it from across the room—copper and something else, something that registered to my power as different.
"Drink slowly. Pay attention to what you feel."
I took the glass. The blood was cool—vampire body temperature, not human warm—and when I raised it to my lips, my power stirred in recognition.
The first sip tasted like copper and lightning.
Energy surged through me, sharper than any caffeine, more intense than any adrenaline rush. My senses sharpened—colors brighter, sounds clearer, the fire suddenly too loud against my ears.
I closed my eyes and reached for Stefan.
There.
Cold. Ancient. A river of blood that had been flowing for 163 years, dead but not dead, preserved by supernatural forces I couldn't understand. I felt his heartbeat—absent, empty—and the blood that moved without it, propelled by will and magic rather than muscle.
"I can feel you."
Stefan's voice was distant against the sensation. "Feel what?"
"Your blood. It's..." I struggled for words. "Cold. Old. Moving even though your heart doesn't beat."
For one second—maybe two—the connection held. I sensed Stefan's entire circulatory system, every drop of ancient blood, every dead vein that still carried something like life.
Then my body metabolized the vampire blood, and the sensation faded like morning fog.
"It's gone."
Stefan nodded slowly. "The blood breaks down quickly in living systems. That's why the healing effect is temporary." He paused. "But you felt something. That's... unusual. Most humans don't have the sensitivity to perceive vampire blood even with my blood in their system."
"Most humans can't manipulate blood with their minds."
"Fair point."
He poured us both bourbon—the good stuff, from a cabinet that probably cost more than my truck—and we sat in the firelit room, processing what had just happened.
"The effect faded when the blood metabolized," I said, thinking out loud. "So I'd need repeated doses to maintain the sensing ability."
"Which creates dependency risks. And emotional side effects."
"Unless there's another way." I swirled the bourbon, watching light play through amber liquid. "Witch blood. Would that work differently?"
Stefan considered. "Witches are human—their blood would metabolize the same way. But Bennett magic is powerful. Grams might know something about blood sensitivity from a magical perspective."
"I've been meaning to talk to her anyway."
"Be careful." Stefan's expression was serious. "Sheila Bennett is friendly, but she's also protective of Bonnie. If she thinks you're a threat to her granddaughter..."
"I'm not a threat to Bonnie."
"Make sure she believes that."
I finished my bourbon and stood. The lingering effects of Stefan's blood were fading—my senses returning to normal, the heightened awareness settling into ordinary perception—but the memory of that one second remained.
I'd felt supernatural blood. I'd sensed something outside my body for the first time.
Stage 2 wasn't impossible. I just needed to find the right path.
"Thanks," I told Stefan. "For the experiment. And for not thinking I'm crazy."
"You're one of the least crazy humans I've met in this century." He almost smiled. "That's not as much of a compliment as it sounds."
I drove home with my veins still tingling, already planning my next move.
Note:
Please give good reviews and power stones itrings more people and more people means more chapters?
My Patreon is all about exploring 'What If' timelines, and you can get instant access to chapters far ahead of the public release.
Choose your journey:
Timeline Viewer ($6): Get 10 chapters of early access + 5 new chapters weekly.
Timeline Explorer ($9): Jump 15-20 chapters ahead of everyone.
Timeline Keeper ($15): Get Instant Access to chapters the moment I finish writing them. No more waiting.
Read the raw, unfiltered story as it unfolds. Your support makes this possible!
👉 Find it all at patreon.com/Whatif0