Bite Me! Part Deux
Copyright© 2026 by Megumi Kashuahara
Chapter 3: Day of Reckoning
Council Chambers
The chamber had been prepared for formal proceedings.
The long obsidian table had been replaced with a raised dais where Laurent and the senior Council members sat in high-backed chairs. Below, a simple wooden chair—more like a defendant’s dock—waited for Selene.
Around the perimeter, other Council members occupied tiered seating. The Asian Council attended via holographic projection, their forms shimmering slightly in the candlelight.
Gregor stood in the shadows to Laurent’s right, motionless as a statue.
The whole setup screamed tribunal.
Which, Selene supposed as she entered with Lucian and Mrs. Choi, was exactly the point.
Every eye turned to her.
She’d dressed deliberately. Not in the sexy stage outfits Laurent hated, but not in submissive formal wear either. Black pants, fitted perfectly. A deep red silk blouse that showed just a hint of décolletage. Heels that added three inches to her height. Her hair was pulled back in a sleek ponytail, makeup subtle but flawless.
She looked like a CEO walking into a board meeting she knew she’d dominate.
Lucian wore a perfectly tailored suit—Savile Row, probably bespoke. The Marquis de Rochefort in all his aristocratic glory.
Mrs. Choi brought up the rear in her usual professional armor: designer suit, tablet under her arm, expression giving nothing away.
Laurent stood. “Selene. Marquis de Rochefort. Thank you for attending.”
“Did we have a choice?” Selene asked pleasantly.
“Everyone has choices. The consequences of those choices vary.”
“Is that a threat?”
“An observation.”
Selene smiled—all teeth, no warmth. “Let’s skip the pleasantries, Laurent. You summoned us. We’re here. What do you want?”
Murmurs rippled through the chamber.
Laurent’s jaw tightened. “This is a formal Council hearing. You will address me as Prince Laurent or Your Highness.”
“Will I?” Selene cocked her head. “Last I checked, I’m not under your authority. I wasn’t turned by anyone in this Council. I don’t live in your territory. And I’m not subject to your jurisdiction.”
“You are a VAMPIRE. All vampires fall under Council jurisdiction.”
“Says who? You?” Selene gestured around the chamber. “You’re not a king, Laurent. You’re a self-appointed bureaucrat who thinks age equals authority.”
The murmurs grew louder.
Lucian’s hand found Selene’s lower back—a gentle reminder.
She took a breath. “But fine. Let’s hear your concerns. Prince Laurent.” The title dripped with sarcasm.
Laurent’s knuckles were white as he gripped the arms of his chair. “The charges are as follows: Unauthorized public feeding. Creation of vampire-human hybrids without Council approval. Commercialization of vampire culture. And conduct unbecoming a vampire of any age or status.”
“That’s a lot of fancy words for ‘we don’t like your concert,’” Selene observed.
“This is NOT about your concert—”
“It’s entirely about my concert. Admit it. You hate that I’m successful. You hate that I’m modern. You hate that I don’t bow and scrape to your outdated sense of propriety.” Selene stepped forward. “But mostly, you hate that I’m changing what it means to be a vampire, and you can’t stop me.”
“WE CAN STOP YOU!” Laurent was standing now, face flushed. “We have the power to end your career, revoke your rights as a vampire, even—”
“Even what?” Selene’s voice went cold. “Execute me? For what crime? Performing? Making people happy? Creating harmless cosmetic changes in consenting adults?”
Madam Zhou’s hologram spoke, her voice carrying authority. “The baby fangs are not harmless. They are unauthorized transformations—”
“They’re NOT transformations,” Mrs. Choi interjected, stepping forward. “If I may?”
Laurent waved irritably.
Mrs. Choi pulled up a presentation on her tablet, projecting it onto the chamber wall. “We’ve conducted extensive medical analysis of 127 individuals who received bites from Selene during her tour. The results are conclusive: no vampire characteristics beyond the cosmetic dental changes. No enhanced strength, speed, healing, or senses. No blood cravings. No immortality. They are, in every measurable way, still human.”
Charts and graphs appeared—medical data, DNA analysis, comparison studies.
“Furthermore,” Mrs. Choi continued, “every contest winner signed extensive consent forms, underwent medical screening, and received post-bite counseling. We have documentation for every single case.”
“They signed forms to become VAMPIRES?” Laurent sputtered.
“They signed forms acknowledging potential side effects of vampire venom exposure. Which is exactly what happened.” Mrs. Choi’s tone remained perfectly professional. “The baby fangs are an unexpected but non-dangerous side effect. Similar to how some people develop immunity to bee stings after multiple exposures. The human body adapted to Selene’s venom in a unique way.”
Councillor Marie-Claire leaned forward. “Why didn’t this happen with other vampires? Why only Selene?”
Lucian spoke for the first time. “Because Selene is unique. She was turned recently, during an era of different environmental factors, different blood chemistry in the human population. Her venom composition is measurably different from older vampires’.”
He produced his own documentation—scientific papers, blood analysis, chemical breakdowns.
“We’ve been researching this,” he continued. “Selene’s venom contains trace elements not found in traditional vampire venom. It’s evolution, Council members. Adaptation to modern human physiology.”
The chamber fell silent as Council members absorbed this.
Finally, Councillor Henri spoke. “This is ... unprecedented.”
“Everything about the modern world is unprecedented,” Lucian said. “But that doesn’t make it wrong. It makes it new.”
Laurent recovered his composure. “Fine. Let’s say the baby fangs are harmless. That still doesn’t address the vulgar nature of your performances, the commercialization of vampire imagery, the complete lack of discretion—”
“Discretion?” Selene laughed. “Laurent, there are satellites that can read license plates from orbit. There are cameras in every pocket. Social media tracks our every move. The age of vampire discretion is OVER. We can either hide in shadows until someone inevitably exposes us, or we can control our own narrative.”
“By making a MOCKERY of ourselves?!”
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