Immortal Night

by Emily Goodwin

  Her lips part and her heart bounds through her veins again. We both want to feel and while I don’t know if I can fix what’s broken inside of me, I know I can make us both forget about the pain we’re destined to carry inside of us.

  Before I can bring my head down to kiss her, a black cat runs into the kitchen, meowing loudly. He jumps onto the counter next to Callie and she holds out her hand to pet him.

  “He’s hungry,” she says and turns away to get a wine glass. “And I need a drink.” She fills her glass and takes a drink. “You must think I’m a basket case of a witch.”

  My lips curve into a smile and I laugh. I think a lot of things about her, but that’s not one that crossed my mind Though now that she’s said it, I can see how she could have come across that way.

  Drunk.

  Mumbling to herself.

  Cursing at whoever texted her earlier.

  She has hot mess written all over her.

  “No. That’s now how I see you.”

  She takes another drink, needing the liquid sedative, and then sets the glass down. She holds out her hand and rubs her thumb over her fingers. Time can move differently for me, being as old as I am. Things play out in slow motion, which is how I’m able to react so quickly to any given situation…but only if I’m paying close attention.

  The moment her thumb makes contact with her fingers, light blue sparks of magic flicker around Callie’s fingers. She’s pulling in energy from the air around us. The shift in the atmosphere is so slight, I wouldn’t have felt it if I wasn’t aware of what was going on in front of me.

  The sparks come together, merging into one single thread of magic. It’s bright and brilliant and would hurt like hell if I touched it. It’s tragically beautiful, glowing in the dim light all the while threatening.

  “How do you see me?” she asks in a small voice.

  “I see the only human who’s power rivals mine.” The emptiness is opening up and a thousand dark hands reach out, trying to pull me in. I’ve let them bring me down to the bottom of the abyss before, but right as I’m about to sink below the surface, I’m back to where I started.

  I draw my fangs and jerk away from Callie. “That, and lunch,” I quickly add.

  “Isn’t it a little late for lunch?” She puts a hand on her hip and looks at the clock on the microwave behind me. I just told her I see her as my next meal and she’s standing there looking annoyed and not at all scared. Fuck, this is weird.

  “You’re not afraid of me, are you?” I growl.

  She looks at the string of magic she’s waving between her fingers and closes her first. The light goes out in her hand. “No.”

  “You should be.”

  “I could say the same for you.”

  “I suppose. But I’m well over a thousand years older than you. And you’re drunk.”

  “Not drunk enough.” The black cat meows at Callie again. “I know,” I she sighs. “I’ll feed you. What do you want? Chicken or fish tonight?”

  She cooks for her cat? “You really are a crazy cat lady, aren’t you?”

  “There’s no point in denying it.” She grabs the cat off the counter and opens the fridge to get something to feed the cat. I watch her for a moment and then go back into the living room.

  The house is clean, a little cluttered for my liking, but it seems to fit Callie. There are three large photos hanging on the wall above the couch in the living room. The first is of Callie and a blonde woman ,and they’re standing in front of a store called Novel Grounds. There are balloons on either side of the door, and half a large GRAND OPENING sign is visible behind them.

  The next photo is older, and Callie can’t be much older than sixteen in it. She’s standing next to a dark haired boy in front of Cinderella’s castle at Disney World. The last one is of Callie with the same blonde woman and two other women with red hair. They’re all wearing black dresses and matching dark blue robes and are in some sort of great hall.

  I move out of the living room and take another look at Callie. She’s holding her hands over a plate and her cats twist around her ankles, meowing. My eyes go to the stairs. There are more photos along the wall leading up to the second floor.

  They’re all of her cats, which I find more endearing than I expected. I’m at the landing, and my curiosity is getting the better of me. Some would consider it rude to look around her house like this, but I’ve always done what I wanted and never gave a shit what others thought.

  There’s a bathroom at the top of the stairs, and two bedrooms. One is neat and tidy and perfectly staged. I can tell right away that’s not Callie’s room.

  “Marco,” Callie’s voice comes from downstairs as I step into her room. A large wooden chest sits open by her closet, half buried with clothes needing to be folded and put away. “You’re supposed to say ‘polo’ and I know you can hear me,” she grumbles.

  The chest is full of weapons, and a scythe with a handle made from carved human bone gets my attention. What kind of witch is she, having all these weapons? Witches don’t fight like this. They use spells and potions and are more or less passive in their attacks. I pick up the scythe, admiring how sharp it is.

  “What the hell?” Callie appears in the doorway, slowly shaking her head at me.

  “You’re not like a regular witch, are you?” I ask, looking at the handle of the scythe.

  “I’m not a regular witch. I’m a cool witch,” she says with a wink, putting her hand on her hip. Maybe Eliza was right and there is something wrong with her.

  “Seriously?” She shakes her head at my lack of response. “You’ve never seen Mean Girls?” She throws out her hand and slams the lid of the chest closed. “And stop going through my things.”

  I set the scythe down on her bed and stride right over to her. She sucks in a breath and her heart skips a beat again. Her shoulders go back and I expect her to put on the air of wanting to move away again, mostly to convince herself she doesn’t want more. I lean in, pushing her limits even more.

  Instead of turning her head or shoving away, she tips her head up, eyes meeting mine, and then slowly looks me over. Her body is reacting whether she wants it to or not, and it’s pissing her off.

  That makes two of us, sweetheart. If we’re not going to kill each other, then we really should fuck and get this over with.

  Callie conjures another string of magic and holds up her hand, reminding me how easily she can burn me. I bring my own hand up and wrap my fingers around hers, feeling the pulsing of magic through the air. She spreads her fingers and the magic floats up, disappearing into the air. Sliding my hand down to her wrist, I find her pulse point.

  Drawing my fangs, I press my thumb against her wrist with a growl. I have her in my grasp. She’s right here in front of me for the taking, and fuck, I’ve never wanted anyone more.

  “You don’t scare me,” she whispers, holding her ground as she puts her hand on my cheek. Her hand is warm and soft and will feel so good wrapped around my cock. “But do I scare you?”

  She’s serious, looking me right in the eye as she speaks. Part of me knows she should—just a little. Not necessarily strike fear in my non-.“ beating heart, but should give me pause because this beautiful woman with her warm hand on my face possess the power to destroy me.

  I retract my fangs. “Humans don’t scare me.”

  She inhales deeply again, as if she’s trying to steady herself. We’re inches from each other, and my entire body yearns to press up against hers. “I’m not quite human though, am I?”

  “No, you’re not. And I find that very appealing.” I look right into her brilliant green eyes and feel that same fluttering inside my chest as the darkness retreats. Her brows furrow, and I know she’s feeling it too.

  Suddenly, she turns and breaks away. “I’m going to, uh, change.” She pushes me out of the room and closes the door. I run my hand through my hair, closing my eyes for a few seconds.

  What the fuck is going on? It’s difficult for a witch t
o cast a spell on a vampire due to the fact that we’re technically dead. Callie might be the most powerful witch I’ve come across, but she’s not that powerful.

  She’s drunk. Hasn’t opened any spell books or lit any candles.

  And yet thinking she put a spell on me is easier to believe than what’s actually happening.

  For the first time in over a thousand years…she’s making me feel.

  Chapter 6

  The stairs creak, and I turn away from the photographs in the living room to see Callie coming downstairs in pajamas and a robe. “Most women come back with less clothes on when I’m around.”

  “I’m not like most women.”

  “I see, and something tells me you rather enjoy being different. I’m right, aren’t I?” I ask, hoping to get another peak inside. Not being able to figure her out is bugging the shit out of me. An outsider would look at her and see a normal, albeit quirky, woman. There’s a book about the magical properties of crystals on her TV stand, which leads me to believe she’s not trying to hide who she is.

  “Yeah. I do. Being normal is overrated.” She flops down on the couch and the black cat jumps right up into her lap. It looks at me like it understands what I am. The two others, a tabby and a calico, growl at me with the same look in their eyes. They don’t quite seem right either.

  “It’s late,” Callie blurts. “For me at least. And I’ve had a long, trying day. Thank you again for taking me home. We have no debt.”

  “We never did,” I tell her, smirking.

  “What?”

  “You think I don’t know when blood is spilled in my own place of business? I could smell it the second he sunk his teeth into her neck.”

  “You lied to me?” Her eyebrows hike up and her heart spikes. The anger on her face makes her all the more attractive.

  “Of course I did. I told you, you’re a curious thing to me. I wanted to see more. And now that I have…” My tongue darts out, wetting my lips. Even though she looks like she raided a ninety year old woman’s closet, she’s still ridiculously sexy.

  “Get out.”

  Her cheeks redden with anger. She can channel that anger into fucking me. “Leaving, my lady.”

  “Don’t fucking call me that.”

  I start toward the door. “For a witch, I’d think you’d know to resend my invitation.”

  “Oh, I do know all about that. Just like I know the only way to kill you is with a silver-tipped wooden stake. And I’ve got a dozen stakes upstairs. Though really, I have enough protection spells put on this place I’d love to see you try to come in here again once my circle is cast. We’ll see how cocky you are when your flesh has been burned down to the bone.”

  This time I know she’s right. I’ve seen first hand what happens to vampires when they cross a witches line of protection. He didn’t die, but it wasn’t pretty. “Well, then, my lady, I bid you goodnight.”

  “You better fucking bring me my car!” she yells as I speed toward my car. She slams the door behind me. She’s pissed, but at least she’ll be thinking about me all night.

  Just like I’ll be thinking about her.

  It’s nearing three AM when I get back to Chicago. The bar usually closes around two, but we stay open if the bar is busy. And judging by how crowded it was when I left, to night is going to be one of the later nights.

  The closest parking spot is a block away, and there are anti-vampire protesters on the street corner. Vampires have minimal legal protection, but it’s not like I need the law to keep me safe.

  There are five men holding signs and I could kill them all before they even knew what was happening. I won’t tonight, partly because I just bought the shirt I’m wearing, and partly because I just don’t give a fuck.

  “Finally,” Eliza huffs when I get back to the bar. She’s in the office counting money, having just shut down for the night. “I take it you fucked that witch and that’s what took so long.”

  “No,” I tell her, and the words even surprise me. “I took her home.”

  “And that’s it? You didn’t feed from her?”

  “No.”

  “And you didn’t fuck her?”

  I round on Eliza. “I said no.”

  The usual smug look on Eliza’s face melts into concern. “Did she do something to you?”

  I draw my fangs. “I would have killed her if she tried.”

  Eliza sets a stack of dollar bills down and leans in, studying me from behind the desk. “I don’t think so. I saw the way you looked at her, and I’ve never seen you look at a human like that before.”

  “She interests me.”

  “She’s a witch,” Eliza deadpans.

  “That’s part of what I find interesting.”

  Eliza rolls her eyes. “Whatever. Just go fuck her out of your system and get it over with.”

  I laugh. “I plan to. But first,” I turn my head, hearing the sounds of the protesters drawing closer. “Let’s have some fun.”

  Eliza smiles, fangs sliding down. “What changed your mind?”

  “I’m hungry after all.” I hold out my hand for her to take. We lock the office behind us and go back into the bar.

  “Go home,” I tell Brian, one of my human employees. “We’ll take it from here. It’s late.”

  “You sure?” Brian asks, looking up from the bar he’s wiping down. “I can stay.”

  “We can close up faster,” I say with a smile.

  Brian laughs. “Very true, and thanks. My girlfriend’s been texting me. Says she can’t sleep without me.” He laughs and shakes his head. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Have a good night.”

  We wait until he heads toward the back to get his stuff and leaves through the rear employee door.

  “Shall we?” I take Eliza’s arms and she smiles. The protesters, knowing this is a vampire-owned business set up outside our doors a few times a year. Legally, they’re allowed to protest, and feeding off unwilling humans has recently been made illegal. The law can pose a threat to younger vampires who can’t hold humans spellbound, though it’s only illegal if you get caught.

  I burst through the front doors moving with vampire speed. The little group gasps and jumps back, but holds up their signs.

  “Go back to hell!” one of them shouts, and the other murmur in agreement, thinking they’re all tough shit.

  “I would,” I start and step forward. The little group tenses. “But I wouldn’t want to miss out on all the fun here.”

  “I want that one.” Eliza says, extending her hand and pointing a finger at the ringleader of the group. “He looks tasty.”

  “Ladies first,” I tell her. She speeds forward, stopping not even a foot from the man. Another holds up a cross, as if the will do anything to stop us. Another pulls a wooden stake from his backpack.

  I have it out of his hand and broken in pieces on the ground in two seconds flat.

  “I thought murder goes against your religion.” I drop the broken pieces of the stake to the ground. “Or do you just pick and choose which teachings of the Bible you decide to follow?”

  “You can’t kill what’s already dead!” another shouts, and flicks his eyes to someone across the street.

  “No, you can’t,” I say and follow his gaze. A woman is crouched down by a bench, holding her phone up. “We’re being filmed,” I tell Eliza, speaking in French again. “They want us to attack.”

  “So fucking lame,” she huffs and steps back, and the man she was in front of makes the mistake of looking right into my eyes. In a split second, I have him held spellbound.

  “You love vampires,” I tell him and he nods, eyes glossing over. “You love vampires so much you want to be one.”

  “Don’t look in his eyes!” The man who tried to stake Eliza warns and goes to cover his friend’s eyes. I hold out my hand, and the man freezes, afraid of me.

  “You love vampires so much you’re going to find a costume store and buy plastic fangs to wear so you can pretend to be a
vampire,” I keep going and Eliza lets out a snort of laugher. Fucking with the minds of hate-filled humans has always been a favorite pastime of mine.

  “Don’t listen to him!” another one protests and the two others who stayed in the back like cowards are pulling more weapons out of their bags. One holds up a garlic-infused pepper spray, which does nothing more than irritate our eyes like a normal pepper spray would.

  When vampires came out about ten years ago, scam-savvy humans made a killing selling bogus vampire-hunting kits. Garlic, holy water, and crosses do nothing to us.

  We can be killed with a wooden stake to the heart, but one tipped with silver does the job faster. Most humans grossly underestimate how hard it is to shove a wooden stake through the sternum as well, resulting in a lot of failed murder attempts with a pissed off as fuck vampire on the other end of it.

  “Let’s go,” I tell Eliza and we step away.

  “Turn me into one of you!” the ringleader of the protesters begs. “Please! I want to be like you!”

  Laughing, Eliza and I dart across the street. She hooks her arm through mine and rests her head on my shoulder.

  “That was fun,” she says.

  “It was.” I kiss the top of her head. “Are you still in the mood for virgin blood?”

  She turns her head up, smiling “Always.”

  Chapter 7

  I gather a handful of brunette hair in my hand and pull it to the side. The woman I’m fucking from behind—who’s name I didn’t care to learn—grips the headboard and moans loudly. I drive my cock deep inside of her and bring my mouth to her neck, fangs sinking into her skin.

  She tenses for a moment, shocked from the pain. It subsides quickly and I put my mouth around the wounds, sucking in a mouthful of blood. I bring a hand down between her thighs, pleasuring her with my fingers while I feed.

  I come right after she does, but I don’t feel satisfied. Licking up the blood that drips from her neck, I take her hand and put her fingers over the two little punctures on her neck.