MY SUGAR MUMMY IS A BEAUTIFUL VAMPIRE

Finally, they arrived at a modest two-story house, its stone walls covered in creeping ivy. Dumpheries ushered them inside, the door creaking shut behind them with a sound of finality.

The interior was a stark contrast to the opulent Shelley castle. Warm, flickering candlelight illuminated cozy rooms filled with well-worn furniture and overflowing bookshelves. The air was thick with the scent of old parchment and aromatic herbs.

"Please, make yourselves comfortable," Dumpheries said, gesturing to a cluster of mismatched armchairs surrounding a low table. As they settled in, Blake couldn't help but feel a small measure of relief. This place, with its lived-in charm, felt more welcoming than anywhere else they'd been in the vampire city.

Dumpheries busied himself in a small adjoining kitchen, the clink of glassware punctuating the tense silence. He returned moments later, carrying a tray laden with delicate crystal glasses filled with a deep crimson liquid.

"Blood wine," he explained, noting Blake's hesitation. "An acquired taste, perhaps, but it might help settle your nerves."

Blake accepted the glass, the liquid within catching the candlelight like liquid rubies. He took a tentative sip, surprised by the complex flavors that danced across his tongue - rich and earthy, with an underlying sweetness.

Dumpheries settled into his own chair, his usually cheerful face now etched with concern. "Now," he said, his voice gentle but firm, "tell me everything. What's happened to our dear Rose?"

For the next hour, they recounted the harrowing events of the past few days. Blake described Rose's sudden collapse, her periods of unconsciousness, the series of tests that all came back normal. Reggie and Randall chimed in with additional details, painting a picture of their growing fear and frustration.

Dumpheries listened intently, his brow furrowing deeper with each new piece of information. He asked pointed questions, probing for details that even Blake hadn't considered important.

As Blake described Rose's apparent recovery and subsequent relapses, Dumpheries leaned forward, his eyes sharp. "And you say she seemed completely fine between episodes? No lingering weakness or disorientation?"

Blake nodded, remembering Rose's inexplicable bursts of energy. "It was like nothing had happened. She'd be up, making breakfast, playing with Celena..."

Dumpheries' frown deepened. He opened his mouth as if to speak, then seemed to think better of it, gesturing for Blake to continue.

Finally, Blake came to the part that had been gnawing at him since they'd left home. "There's one more thing," he said, his voice dropping to barely above a whisper. "A mark appeared on Rose's thumb. Dark, almost like a bruise, but... different."

Dumpheries went very still. "This mark," he said, his voice urgent. "Describe it exactly. Shape, size, color - every detail you can remember."

Blake closed his eyes, calling up the image of the strange blemish. "It was about the size of a dime," he began, his words slow and careful. "Almost perfectly circular. The edges were sharp, not like a normal bruise. The color was... it's hard to describe.

Grayish-purple, but with an almost metallic sheen to it."

As he spoke, Blake became aware of a growing tension in the room. He opened his eyes to find Dumpheries staring at him, all color drained from his face.

"Oh no," Dumpheries breathed, the words barely audible. "Oh no, no, no..."

The ominous phrase hung in the air like a death knell, sending chills down Blake's spine. Reggie and Randal exchanged alarmed glances, their postures tensing as if preparing for a fight.

"What is it?" Blake demanded, his heart pounding. "What does the mark mean?"

The ominous words hung in the air, sending a chill down Blake's spine. Whatever this mark meant, it was clear that their journey for answers had only just begun - and the truth might be far more terrifying than they could have imagined.

Dumphries' glass slipped from his trembling fingers, shattering on the floor. The sound jolted through the tense silence as he stared at the three men before him, his face ashen.

"Tell me," he began, his voice barely above a whisper, "do any of you know about familiars?"

Reggie and Randal nodded solemnly, while Blake remained silent, acutely aware of his lack of knowledge on the subject. The two knights had a frown on their faces as they were unsure of where Dumphries was heading but deep down, they didn't like it.

Dumphries took a deep breath before launching into his explanation. "Familiars are spiritual entities that form bonds with certain beings, often those with magical or supernatural abilities. They can take many forms - animals, objects, even incorporeal manifestations of energy. Some familiars are benevolent, serving as guides or amplifiers of their bonded partner's power. Others...

others are malevolent, parasitic in nature."

He paused, his eyes distant as if recalling ancient memories. "Long ago, in the early days of our kind, vampires and familiar spirits often roamed the earth together. Their bond was sealed by a blood oath, a contract of immense power and consequence."

Dumphries' gaze sharpened as he focused on the men before him. "These contracts were not to be taken lightly. The familiar would lend its power to the vampire, enhancing their abilities beyond measure. But in return, the familiar gained a measure of control over its host. And some familiars... some were not content with mere partnership."

He shook his head, a look of dread crossing his features. "There were stories, legends really, of familiars that sought to dominate their hosts entirely. To consume them from within, using the vampire's body as a vessel for their own twisted purposes."

Blake felt a chill run down his spine as the implications began to sink in. "Are you saying," he asked, his voice hoarse, "that this mark on Rose... it could be from one of these familiars?"

Dumphries nodded gravely. "It's possible. The symptoms you've described - the sudden collapses, the inexplicable mark - they align with old tales of familiar possession. But if that's true, if Rose has somehow become bound to a familiar spirit..."

He trailed off, leaving the dire consequences unspoken. The room fell into a heavy silence as the weight of this revelation settled upon them all.