Shadows and Stars

by Becca Fanning

  I cocked an eyebrow and stared at her curiously. That was a very mundane question to ask. Something you’d only ask if you were really interested in the other person. I coughed my gleeful smile and turned to her. “Meatball marinara. What’s your favourite—“ I halted my question and realised we hadn’t actually specified how intimate or wild our questions could be. Or what if she wanted to pass one up? “Should we need some rules first”

  Zara’s eyes glimmered and a playfulness curled her lips up. “Rules? Isn’t life much more fun without them?”

  I studied her carefully, wondering how serious she was. But from the rebellious aura she had, I guessed, pretty serious. “Bold,” I grinned, sharing her sentiment.

  “Exciting.”

  “Daring.”

  “Thrilling.”

  “Daring.”

  “You already said that.”

  “I ran out of synonyms,” I defended myself, giving her a gentle shove. “I didn’t realise I would be attending a language quiz tonight.”

  She chuckled, her laugh dancing through the street. A old couple looked back at us and pulled up their noses.

  I glared right back at them, lowering my fangs as I did. With an undignified “oh!” from the posh woman, the couple quickly passed us by. Suited them right. They should just keep their judgement for themselves.

  “You didn’t ask me a proper question, Marcus.”

  “You’re right, I didn’t. What’s your favourite colour?”

  “Is that really what you want to ask me?”

  “Oi, you asked about my favourite sandwich.”

  My companion laughed and brushed her hand through her long, dark hair. “Touché. Blue, I like blue.”

  “Figures,” I muttered, shaking my head in amusement. All those damn dragons seemed to love blue.

  “My turn. Let’s do a proper one. How does a vampire know a dragon like Tate?”

  I tripped over the curb and barely managed to grab hold of a street lantern to steady myself. “What?”

  “You heard me. How does the esteemed daughter of Elder Orrin know a vampire well enough to invite him to her blessing?”

  I gulped, mentally kicking myself. This was why I shouldn’t be going out with dragons. Or telling them I was a vampire. Stupid, stupid, stupid Marc.

  “Uummm... childhood friend?” I tried, wondering just how well Zara knew Ayra. Errrr. Tate.

  “I was friends with Tate her whole childhood and I didn’t see a sign of you. Try again.”

  “You were?” I asked, surprised. Devon hadn’t mentioned that when I inquired about her.

  “Not that that’s any of your business, but yes.”

  “What happened?”

  “Hey, it was your turn to answer questions.”

  I grumbled and scratched my jaw. How honest could I be here? “I met Tate... through a close friend of mine.” That wasn’t a lie.

  “Who?”

  “Uh-uh, that’s another question. It’s my turn again.”

  Zara shot me a stink eye, but nodded. “Proceed.”

  “So... You used to be good friends with Tate? What happened?” If I was going to keep Ayra and Tate’s secret safe, I needed to know just how well she knew Devon and Tate.

  “We were both outcasts. She couldn’t shift and I... had my issues. It was nice not being on my own. But then she met her mate.”

  “Devon.”

  “Exactly. And as you may know, his family holds a lot of weight in our community. And Devon certainly didn’t break tradition. He helped Tate fit in and well, we stopped hanging out. No big deal.”

  “That doesn’t sound like not a big deal,” I replied kindly, sympathising with her. Nobody deserved to grow up like an outcast, it was a horrible childhood.

  “I was happy for her, at least she had a...” she stopped in her tracks and shook her words away. “Doesn’t matter. Do you fancy a drink?” She stopped in front of a renovated gothic chapel and pointed at the neon cocktail sign.

  “Ummm...” I stared at the establishment and even though it was a bar now, the religious connotations surely still encompasses the building. But I hadn’t actually tried passing a church, not after hearing the horror stories from my older brother about vampires going up in flames the moment they passed the threshold. Was today really a good time to figure out if he was right? It sure would be an eventful ending to a date, but I’d rather stick around a little longer and enjoy Zara’s company.

  She must’ve taken my silence wrong and her face flushed. “I’m sorry, I just thought... never mind. Maybe just straight home, huh?” she asked, the chirpiness of her voice overtaken by a bitterness it could’ve only gotten from repetitious rejection.

  “No, no, let me explain.”

  “No need, Marcus. I have been on this first date many times before. Let’s just call it a night.”

  I grabbed her wrist and pulled her back towards me. “No, lets not call it a night,” I growled softly, the idea of letting her go unappealing. She stared at me with a confused expression. I searched for an answer in her eyes, but they were deep and guarded. A mystery I wanted to solve.

  Her breath clashed against my skin and I suddenly realised just how close I pulled her to me. But she didn’t seem to mind, in fact, she seemed quite surprised and intrigued by the sudden contact. I contemplated kissing her, but the moment didn’t seem right. I didn’t want to kiss her just to prove a point. I wanted to kiss her for entirely different reasons.

  I rested my head against her forehead. “I can’t cross the threshold of a religious house.”

  “Oh... But it’s a bar?”

  “Yeah, but it used to be a chapel... maybe their God or whatever is still lurking about. He might just smite me.”

  Zara laughed, surely reading the discomfort on my face. “The only god that’s worshipped in here is the God of Alcohol.”

  “Well, I do know him... He and I go way back,” I pondered, staring at the bar. It looked quite harmless and I did always want to know whether we could or couldn’t enter a church.

  “What happens if you go into a religious place?” Zara inquired.

  “Not sure... I might go up in flames. Or be struck by lightning. Or maybe just turn into dust?”

  “Wait, you don’t know for sure?”

  I stared at the flickering cocktail sign and wondered just how much I wanted to impress Zara. Was I really going to try and enter a church, even if it wasn’t in service anymore? Ayra would kick my ass if she knew I was even contemplating it.

  “We can go someplace else,” Zara proposed, tugging me away from the bar.

  “No, let’s go in.”

  “But what if—“

  “Rules are stupid, right? Living life on the edge.”

  Zara clacked her tongue. “Yes, but not when it comes to death. You shouldn’t gamble with that just for a drink. There are tons of places which serve alcohol.”

  “Oh, screw it. I always wanted to see the inside of a chapel.”

  The doors swung open and a drunk couple tumbled out, giggling and kissing. The stale scent of beer and smoke followed the pair and I made up my mind. If there was even something like a Christian god, he surely wouldn’t be keeping watch in a place like this.

  I caught the door before it fell shut and looked inside the dimly lit chapel. This was as close as I ever got to entering a church or a holy place, but nothing about it seemed even remotely sacrilegious. I balled my fists in my pocket, hiding just how terrified I was. If I went up in flames, Ayra would summon me from my ashes just so she could kick my ass.

  But that was the fun part. So many things could go wrong and maybe, maybe I secretly hoped they would. That would spice up my boring life, at least. I didn’t have body swapping or a mate or an egg to keep my life interesting. Maybe this would give me a proper thrill.

  With adrenaline flooding my veins and excitement clouding my mind, I lifted my foot. Slowly, surely, I hovered it out in front of me. Four inch, three inch, two inch...

  “A
re you sure?” Zara’s concerned tone halted me for a moment, but I shrugged it off. I wanted to see this chapel-bar and I would. I didn’t believe in a god anyway.

  One inch.

  FIVE

  “OUCH!” I exclaimed, clutching my chest and fainting against the wall.

  “Are you okay?” Zara hurries in after me and clamped her hands around my face.

  “Marcus?”

  “Hahaha, got you!” I laughed, suiting my dramatic act and brushing off my vest.

  “Ooof, dusty inside your church.”

  She stomped my arm and growled. “Not funny, I was really worried!”

  “Sorry, Zara. Just making fun of my almost death.”

  “You can be a real tool, you know that?” she glared, but I could tell she wasn’t really mad. She looked far too relieved for that.

  “I know, it’s one of my special qualities.”

  Zara shook her head, her brown hair dancing as she did. She really was beautiful and I didn’t care if she really was a pink speckled dragon or not. I was sure I would find it just as fascinating as I found her.

  “Just get to the bar, will you?” She scowled, but there was a smile hiding in the frown. She was enjoying the banter and so was I.

  The wooden bar was rather sticky, so I refrained from leaning on it. I held up two fingers to the bartender and drew my focus back to Zara. “Righto, but I want to look around.”

  She spread her arms and gestured around. “This is the bar. It’s small.”

  Mischief bubbled up in my gut and I shook my head. “No, I want to see the rest of the chapel. This might be the only time I will see one.”

  “That’s not allowed,” she hissed, her perfume dancing around me. Seashells. How delicate. I always did love the beach.

  “But that’s the fun part. Or are you chicken?” I dared her, not missing the twinkle in her eyes. She yanked on my sleeve and tugged me towards to the door for staff only. Quickly I snagged the two drinks from the bar and hurried behind her. The hinges of the black door shrieked softly as we slipped away from the inebriated crowd. There were so many people here, nobody noticed two figures sneaking into the staffing area. The dust prickled my nose and I barely managed to hold a sneeze back.

  “Shhhhhh.”

  Confused, I bumped into Zara and stared at her silly hair. “What?”

  “You’re making weird noises.”

  “Oh, oops. I was holding back a sneeze.”

  “Ooookay... there’s someone coming, in here.” She tugged me into the nearest door and shut it impressively fast and quietly. Through the broken glass window, I noticed a random metal head passing by and smiled to myself. If he got into the church, it was no wonder I did as well.

  “Let’s move back, there is a flight of stairs behind us.”

  As silently as I could, I followed Zara towards the second floor. The wood shrieked with every step and my heart thundered in my chest. If someone passed by, there was no way they didn’t hear us. We could get caught any moment. I loved it.

  "Oh wow," I muttered as I ducked under a low doorway, following Zara closely.

  "Stunning, huh?" she asked, smiling over her shoulder.

  "That's one word for it," I replied, more focused on her than the room.

  I could still see it though. The light was shining through the stained glass windows. Six of them in fact, all different shades of blue.

  It took me a moment, mostly because of how captivating Zara was, but I soon found myself drifting towards them. The glass was something else entirely. Each panel was a different shade, and the light seemed to hit each in a completely different way on top of that. It gave the room a seemingly bright look, at the same time as colouring it multiple shades.

  "We're lucky the street lamps create so much light," Zara said, stepping up to stand beside me.

  "Yes," I replied, the word hardly audible through my breathing. I'd never really understood the concept of having your breath taken away up until now. But I got it now. I really did. Because this, and Zara, were really it. They were special.

  This moment was special.

  And it was the moment I'd wanted just outside. That perfect story that we could tell when we're old. There'd be no story about us meeting on a night out and barely remembering one another, or on us almost missing each other.

  Our story could be this. Completely authentic us, with just a little bit of awkward cuteness. Followed by a kiss that neither of us would forget in a hurry.

  Or at least, I hoped not.

  The location was good, so I definitely had that going for me.

  Zara looked up at me with expectant eyes. And I knew that this was the moment I'd been waiting my whole life for. Not only that, but that she wanted this moment as much as I did too. If I was a full vampire, and she was a vampire too, then I'd almost have said she was my true mate. But I knew I didn't have that luxury. And maybe, as a halfling, she didn't either.

  That could be a good thing. Maybe this was a chance at love for both of us. A chance that our sort didn't normally get.

  Wait, why was I thinking about love? Somewhere along the line I appeared to have become as mushy as Ayra about this stuff. She would be lapping this up if she had any clue.

  Clearing my head of thoughts, I looped my arm around Zara's waist, and pulled her to me, already surprised she hadn't turned tail and run. I wouldn't be surprised if she did. Just saddened.

  She fit against me perfectly, and I could feel her softness pressed against me. Turning parts of my body super not soft. This woman was going to be the death of me. Or the joy of me. Wow. That one sounded weird. I should remember not to say that again.

  "Marcus," she said softly, sounding more than a little breathy.

  My chest swelled with pride at the realisation I was the one that put that note in her voice. No one else. Just me.

  Take that every person who ever made fun of my bisexuality.

  "Yes, Zara?" I asked, equally as breathy.

  "Will you just kiss me already?" she demanded.

  Damn, was I taking too long?

  "Yes," she replied.

  "Did I say that out loud?" I asked, panicked.

  "No, the question was written all over your face."

  "Oh."

  "But seriously, Marcus, hurry up and kiss me. I don't want to have my signals ignored all night."

  I wasn't sure how serious she was, but I didn't want to chance it. Leaning down, I crushed my lips on to hers, being far more demanding than I ever normally was during a first kiss. But something about this woman just called to me. I wanted to make her mine. I wanted to ruin her to other men. Or other women. Or other anyone, really. I wasn't even sure if she was into anything other than men.

  Probably not thoughts that should be happening while kissing her.

  Zara's lips moved against mine, soft and pliant, just like the body pressed against me. She was like a ray of sunshine to a vampire with a skin allergy. Burning hot, all consuming, but definitely still welcome.

  It was almost a certainty that I was going to lose my heart in that moment. And this was only the first date. She'd have me proposing within three months if she wasn't careful. And that would probably be moving a tad too quickly for my logical mind.

  But that wasn't my mind that was in charge. That honour was very certainly with it's more basic neighbour right now.

  Which Zara could probably feel. Maybe I should feel bad about that. But then a weird form of manly pride didn't allow me to. Or something like that.

  We broke apart, and Zara looked up at me with her eyes hazy and lust filled.

  Boom. All the man points to me.

  "Are you okay?" she asked softly.

  "Of course," I replied, my own voice barely above a whisper. If she'd been getting to me before, she was sure as hell going to be getting to me now I knew how she tasted. How her lips felt against mine, and how her body felt pressed up against me. Basically, I was one step away from going completely crazy over her.

 
That was probably a good thing. I had a tendency of just kind of skating through life. Going from job to job with no real purpose while I tried to decide what I actually wanted to do. Now, maybe I'd have some. Maybe I'd have her.

  Being a good boyfriend would give me at least a little bit of direction. Which was a start. It had been a long time since I last was someone’s boyfriend, so I hoped I wouldn’t mess it up.

  “There’s nobody around,” Zara grinned, tracing my cheek and walking her fingers down my chest. I subtly sucked in my stomach, hoping to give the illusion of abs. Damn, I should’ve done some quick sit-ups before I went on the date.

  “We’re in a chapel,” I reminded her, not exactly sure why I was finding reasons for her not to continue. I wanted her, hell, even if I emptied the chamber earlier, I was quite sure I wouldn’t last very long. There was something titillating about her touch, something exciting and mysterious. Maybe it was the forbidden place we were in, or that I didn’t know her all that well. I wasn’t sure what it was, but I wanted her. Terribly much. Without wasting another second, I pulled her even tighter into me. Hungrily, I crashed my lips back on hers, hoping she knew just how crazy she was driving me.

  She wiggled against me and I had no doubt she could feel the effect she had on me. It was hard to miss with it straining against my jeans.

  “Doesn’t the chapel make it even more fun?” she breathed, a glimmer dancing in her eyes. She was right.

  “You’re wild,” I growled between kisses, reaching backwards to tug my shirt over my head.

  “You’re the adventurous one. Going into a church even though you could’ve died? Dinner with a dragon…” She nipped at my lip, sending all the blood straight down south. “About to have a one-night-stand in a chapel.”

  Wait, what?

  Confused, I pulled back and stared at her. “What?”

  “What?” She stole another kiss from my lips and the softness was almost enough to make me forget what she just said. Almost.

  “One-night-stand?” I gulped, a figurative rock falling on my stomach and crushing all the flutters.

  “Well… Yes?” Zara tilted her head, her eyebrows furrowing as she studied me. “What did you think this was?”