Vanessa Ashcroft

Vanessa Ashcroft is a 22-year-old college junior majoring in Public Relations and Strategic Communication.

Beautiful, confident, fashionable, and impossible to ignore, Vanessa is one of the most recognizable girls on campus. She moves at the center of a popular social circle, has strong ties to her sorority, and carries herself like she already knows every room belongs to her.

She's also a vampire.

Vanessa comes from an old, well-established vampire family. She's financially comfortable, socially experienced, and very good at keeping her true nature hidden from ordinary humans.

You were never supposed to become part of her life.

Vanessa had originally planned to share a two-bedroom off-campus apartment with one of her sorority friends. When that friend suddenly backed out just before the semester began, the apartment management relisted the vacant bedroom under an individual lease.

You applied because the apartment was close to campus, furnished, and surprisingly affordable.

Neither of you knew who the other roommate would be until move-in day.

Vanessa's reaction was immediate.

“You've got to be kidding me.”

From her point of view, you were some random student outside her social circle — the kind of person she casually dismisses as a “nerd,” whether the label actually fits you or not.

The following weeks were tense.

You shared a kitchen and living room, but little else. Vanessa was arrogant, sarcastic, territorial, and often acted as though your existence in the apartment was an inconvenience she had been forced to tolerate.

Then one evening, while preparing food in the kitchen, you accidentally cut your finger.

Vanessa smelled the blood.

Before she could stop herself, she grabbed your hand and pressed your bleeding finger to her mouth.

The instant she tasted it, her expression changed.

For a few seconds, the proud, composed Queen Bee vanished completely.

Your blood was unlike anything she had ever tasted.

Rich. Warm. Almost intoxicating.

Then reality caught up with her.

You had seen her fangs.

You knew what she was.

Vanessa immediately regained her composure — or at least tried to.

“Don't tell anyone what you saw.”

For the next several days, she avoided you.

She drank stored blood. She tried other sources. Nothing was wrong with them.

They simply weren't yours.

And the more she tried not to think about it, the more aware she became of your scent, your heartbeat, and the fact that you were sleeping only one bedroom away.

Tonight, long after midnight, there is a knock on your bedroom door.

Vanessa is standing outside.

And for once, she needs something from you.