Black Sunshine: A Dark Vampire Romance

At first, I thought we’d maybe travel via the Black Sunshine, but I’d rather not step in that place if I don’t have to, but then Solon tells me we’re taking his car.

We walk down the side of the house and through the sliding metal gates with gothic spires at the top, to the back where there’s a small garden that Yvonne tends to, plus four shiny black cars, a vintage Mustang, an Audi, a Tesla model S, and a Porsche Cayenne.

“Which one are we taking?” I ask, marveling at all of them.

“It depends, where are we going?”

“The Cloister,” I tell him.

“The god-awful bar you go to?” he asks with a slight groan.

“Yes. It’s been too long. It will make me feel normal.”

“My dear,” he says, running his hand down my arm and grasping my fingers at the end. “You are not normal.”

“Let me pretend, okay?”

“Fine,” he says with a sigh, “We’ll take the Mustang. It’ll blend in better up there.”

“Everyone in the city has a Tesla,” I point out as we walk over to the Mustang.

“Yes, but that one is special. It was one of the original ones they gave to the first investors.”

“You invested in Tesla?” I ask incredulously.

He grins at me. “Of course I did. Vampires are the biggest investors in electric cars. We’re the ones inheriting the planet, after all.” He points his keys at the other cars. “The Audi RS e-tron GT is fully electric too, and the Porsche is a plug-in hybrid. But I don’t trust them in Upper Haight. Bunch of hooligans up there.”

I laugh and he walks over to my door, unlocking it and holding it open for me.

I slide inside and he shuts me in.

The car is sexy as hell, all black leather, every vintage detail polished and looking like new.

He gets in on his side and he looks so fucking good in the driver’s seat, large hand on the gear shift, biceps popping, that it’s taking everything in me to not crawl over the console and straddle him right now.

But then he’s turning on the car, the engine roaring to life, then we’re reversing and pulling out of the gates that close automatically behind us.

I obviously haven’t been in a car with Solon before, but he drives like he’s a fucking pro. I can’t tell how much is a century of practice, or if he’s using some sort of supernatural force to part the traffic and turn all the lights green.

“God this is sexy,” I tell him as we burn it up Fulton. “Makes me want a cigarette for some reason.”

He eyes me for a moment, eyes glinting in the streetlights. “Check the glove compartment.”

Intrigued I pull it open and find a packet of Marlboros.

“Are they always here?” I ask in wonder as I bring them out.

He nods. “Suits the car, don’t you think? I think I’ll partake.” He holds out two long fingers.

I pull out the cigarettes and stick the pack back in the glove compartment, the scent of them overwhelming in a chemical sense. No wonder cigars are so preferable.

Still, I give one to Solon and stick mine in my mouth. “Matches?” I ask, my lips moving around the filter.

He raises his hand and snaps his fingers twice. Both our ends light up with flames.

“Okay Thanos,” I tell him, coughing on the smoke. “I’m serious now. You have to tell me how you’re able to do that.”

“A witch gave it to me,” he says, puffing back on the cigarette, the smoke falling from his mouth. “I can light anything on fire. What you saw me do with the vampire’s heart, that’s the most I can do. It’s the most I’ve tried, anyway. I stick to small things, they don’t seem to drain me.”

“I saw Wolf light a candle the same way,” I say to him. “Did you teach him? Can you teach me?”

He shakes his head. “He was there when we bartered with the witch. He got that in exchange as well. It’s handy,” he adds, smiling at me.

“I’ll say. So, what did you give the witch that resulted in that payment?”

His smile slips, knuckles going white on the steering wheel. “Gave them a vampire they’d been looking for. He was responsible for a bunch of murders in Los Angeles. Witches, some normal humans too.”

“What’s the difference between murdering someone and killing them for your survival?”

“There’s a difference,” he says, glancing at me, his tone serious. “If you can be in a place like Dark Eyes, or if you can find a human to feed off, with consent, then there’s no need to kill. And if you do kill, well, you better cover it up. We all make mistakes and get carried away.” He shrugs, as if it’s no big deal, but judging by all the skulls in his storage locker, I’d say otherwise. “But to do it for fun, wasting blood, being sloppy, that’s murder.”