Gwen believes we get one true love. I don’t.
I know I’ve made a mistake mentioning the one when Gwen’s eyes grow wide and out sparkle her lip gloss. “You never know. He’s out there, looking for you. Fate could be trying to bring you together.”
“Well, Fate is going to have to send him straight to my apartment cause that’s where I’m going. Night, Gwen.” I turn to trudge home.
“Wait, you’re walking?” Gwen calls after me. “You don’t have a car?”
“Nope. It’s fine. I live close.” Five blocks—not that close, but close enough to walk. I walk faster in the opposite direction, declining Gwen’s offer of a ride with a wave.
The prickle on my neck persists, and I rub my arms as I walk. This is nothing new. For the past few days, I’ve gotten the sense that I’m being followed. So weird.
Out of the corner of my eye, something flickers. A ghostly white shape flutters towards me, and I jump five feet in the air before I realize it’s only a piece of paper. It lands at my feet, and I snatch it off the ground. I can read it clearly in the light of the full moon. “Black Tie Affair. Ladies Get in Free.”
It’s a flyer for a club. There’s a logo in the corner, and when I read it, I get another full body shiver.
Club Toxic. This is the club Gwen was talking about. If my nana were here, she’d say it was a sign.
Or...I’m just tired. My exhausted body’s overreacting. This Club Toxic thing is just a coincidence, not the universe trying to tell me something.
I crumple up the flyer and keep walking.
Charlie
My mortal prey tosses a piece of trash into the proper bin, shrugs her purse higher and keeps walking. According to my intel and what I’ve observed, she lives alone and keeps mostly to herself.
Which is perfect for my purposes.
I follow her down Congress Street. If all goes to plan, I’ll nab her tonight. The king of this territory can’t know I’m here, so I’ll get in, get what I need, and get out.
And only one poor mortal will ever know I was here...
Aurelia
I hobble down the dark downtown streets, peering into alleyways. Congress is usually safe and busy, but it’s late and a weeknight. The streets are mostly empty.
But the moon lights my way. I raise my face to the silvery light and breathe in. Taking a second to bask in nature’s beauty always makes me feel better. After a moment of moon communion, even my feet hurt less.
I’m almost home when a tall shadow detaches itself from an alley wall and blocks my path.
I startle, but on second glance it’s only a man. He doesn't look too menacing. Tall and pale, he’s dressed in sleek black slacks and a white button down shirt with a thin black tie. A businessman probably headed home after dinner or drinks. Just in case, I hold my keys pointed through my knuckles the way I learned in a college self-defense class.
The man walks towards me. The closer he gets, the taller he looms, and my heart pitter patters faster. It’s fine, it’s fine. He’s totally harmless. To calm my fear, I visualize a giant ball of white light surrounding me. It’s a silly little exercise I came up with on my own, but it’s always helped center me. Sometimes I imagine I can see the glow of the protective aura flickering just out of the corner of my eye.
And it works. As soon as I imagine the white aura, I feel calmer. But then something strange happens.
The man approaching me stops in his tracks. And he’s staring at my aura as if he can see it.
I freeze like a rabbit catching sight of a hunter.
Goosebumps break out over my skin as a slow grin spreads across the man’s face. “Is this for me?” he drawls in a sexy British accent. The moonlight glints over his unusually long canines.
Vampire.
I don’t know why, but the word enters my mind clearly.
The man grins broader, showing sharp, way-too-long-to-be-human canines. “Yes,” he purrs as if I spoke the word aloud. “And you are…what? A witchling?” He cocks his head to the side, “Priestess? Or something special...something more?” His voice is reverent as he extends his fingertips in the air, touching what would be the edge of my ball of light. And in a flash, I see clearly what I’ve only caught glimpses of before—a shimmering white wall of protection that ripples and repels his touch.
A shiver shimmies up my spine.
Even in the low light of the street, I can tell he is beautiful. Dark hair, strong jaw. Cheekbones sharp enough to cut my palm. He’s pale, but there are deep shadows under his dark eyes.
I can’t stop staring at him. It’s worse than the time I saw a movie star in a coffee shop. If this guy asked me my name, I’d stammer gibberish. Maybe drool. He’s that fucking hot.