My Stepmom Is a Vampire
Copyright© 2025 by Vamp
Chapter 50: Children Play
Before the knife could touch Isolde’s neck, her eyes snapped open. Viviane staggered back, startled by the sudden awakening.
But Isolde was smiling, as though she had been waiting all along for them to come, waiting for the challenge.
“Oh my, my. Starting with such a dirty trick, are we? I’m proud of you, my daughter,” she mocked, her tone dripping with derision.
Viviane took another step back, her caution sharpened.
Isolde rose from her seat, and the three vampire hunters stirred awake in front of her. They looked disoriented, their eyes darting around the chamber.
One of them froze in horror as he realized the truth, they had been trapped inside her dream all this time.
None of them understood what had happened, but instinct drove them to protect each other.
Isolde turned her gaze on the four vampires before her and laughed. “You allied yourself with these losers? Really?” She sighed, her disappointment theatrical.
“I expected better, Viviane. I even stretched my dream further than usual, curious to see what kind of grand plan you had prepared for me, only to be disappointed.”
“Shut up,” Viviane said evenly.
This time she kept her composure. She knew her mother’s game well: the taunts, the provocations, the deliberate needling meant to drive her into a blind rage.
But she would not fall for it. Not this time.
“Oh? Is my daughter finally learning something from me?” Isolde teased, her smile widening.
Before Viviane could respond, Alastair cut in. “Isolde Velstrath, we have come to punish you. To take back what is ours!”
Isolde groaned, rolling her eyes. “Are you still clinging to that old nonsense? What is this, some tragic anthem from the 80s?”
“Tch. Enough talking! Let’s end this now!” Eve snarled as she launched forward.
Her charge was not without merit. A Psyche Bloodstyle user like Isolde, skilled in dream-weaving, was weakest against direct combat powers outside her domain.
Eve’s aggressive move could have been dangerous.
But Isolde only smirked. She slit her own arm, blood dripping down before scattering into the air as glittering Somnium Spores.
Alastair reacted instantly. His eyes sharpened as he invoked his bloodstyle. The wind rose in a violent surge, scattering the spores into nothing.
“Get her, Eve!” he shouted.
Eve grinned, her body hardening into stone. From her arms came out a long, jagged blades as she swung them with brutal force, aiming to cleave through Isolde.
At the same time, Stella moved in alongside her. Her crimson strings writhed and coiled through the air, weaving a shifting net meant to bind Isolde, confuse her movements, and cut off her escape.
Viviane’s eyes widened. She had not expected such seamless teamwork from them. For the first time, they looked almost competent.
Beside her, Alastair turned with a smug expression. “See? We’re not as useless as you thought.”
He gestured toward Isolde’s wrist where the bracelet glinted. “And with half her power sealed away, victory is only a matter of time.” His smile brimmed with confidence.
Viviane, however, felt only a sinking dread. Something about his certainty told her this was about to go terribly wrong.
Isolde did not retreat. She leaned back with casual grace as Eve’s blade-arms sliced past her, missing by inches.
Stella’s strings snapped forward like whips, but Isolde slipped between them with a dancer’s ease, the crimson threads grazing her sleeve and nothing more.
“You call this an attack?” she laughed softly, pivoting aside as Eve swung again.
The stone blade slammed into the floor, cracking the tiles but finding no flesh.
“Two of you, coordinated so well, and yet you still look like children swinging sticks at their mother.”