Shadows and Stars

by Becca Fanning

  I refrained from banging my forehead against a wall and swallowed the romantic thoughts I had earlier. Damn, how had I misinterpreted this so badly?

  “I’d like to do this again,” I admitted, not sure what kind of reaction that would elicit from her. Maybe she would stop kissing me. Or scream. Or laugh in my face. I wasn’t exactly sure what would be worst.

  “Marcus, you’re very sweet and handsome… But I’m not looking for anything serious.”

  Ouch. There it was, the words nobody liked to hear. I certainly hadn’t expected the evening to end with her rejecting me like that.

  “Why not?” I asked, dropping my hands from her waist and stepping back.

  “I just don’t really do relationships, and let’s face it… I’m a dragon, you’re a vampire. I’m already an outcast, I don’t want to add to that.”

  “Right, not a problem,” I muttered bitterly, brushing a little fleck of dust from my shirt. I didn’t want to show how much I cared and shrugged, pretending like it was fine. I only just met her, I really didn’t need to be all gushy and soft.

  “Are you sure?” Zara asked, her voice laced with concern. So she did care, just not enough to actually want to date me.

  “Yeah, I just wanted to see you again.” I pointed to the space between us. “You know, to do this again.” What a lie. But it was better than losing face.

  “Oh. Right. Yeah, me too. Casual sex is the best...” She shrugged awkwardly, the moment completely ruined. The previous sexual tension hanging between us had turned into just tension.

  “Oh yes, totally,” I lied, the joy I felt earlier sinking. This was not how I envisioned the date to end. I scratched my jaw and stared in her deep eyes. “So that’s what we’re doing?”

  I couldn’t work out what the look in her eyes meant. It was confusing to say the least. It was almost like she wanted me to prove to her that she was wrong. That she did want something serious, and that she wanted it with me.

  Well…challenge accepted. I would prove to Zara once and for all that she wanted more than just sex.

  I pulled away from her. “I’ll pick you up the same time tomorrow,” I said. Turning away, without waiting for her to respond, I walked away. Maybe I’d regret it later, but if I didn’t give her time to say no, then she’d have no choice but to agree.

  SIX

  PULLING up to the same place I’d picked Zara up the night before had been nerve wracking as hell. I knew there was a chance my plan would backfire, and that she might stand me up.

  But I also had hope. She intrigued me. A lot. And I hoped I intrigued her too. At least, I thought I had. If she actually stuck with that, then I’d have a chance at actually wooing her.

  Ayra had laughed when I told her what had happened. Apparently, she and Devon had decided to hang around and grill me like paranoid parents the moment I’d returned home. Maybe they’d been right to. The date had been an unmitigated disaster, even if the kiss had been one of the most heavenly things I’d ever experienced.

  She was standing on the corner, looking freaking gorgeous in a skater style little black dress. I was never sure if I hated the fact I knew what different styles of dresses were called. But my best friend was a girly girl when it came to clothes, so I’d learned it all while I was still at school.

  I couldn’t say it had done me much good in school. Far from it. But I no longer cared. I was me. And take it or leave it, I was happy in my own skin.

  Before I’d even fully stopped the car, she was pulling open the door and getting in.

  “This looks like Devon James’ car,” she noted.

  “It is,” I replied. “He lent it to me.”

  “Don’t you have one of your own?”

  “No. I don’t need one where I live,” I replied. She looked at me curiously.

  “You’re not local?”

  “Hardly. I don’t think you can be anything but a dragon around here.”

  “That’s true. Who knows how they’d respond if they found out the truth about you,” she said, annunciating her words as dramatically as possible.

  "I dread to think," I muttered, barely repressing a shiver.

  There'd probably be some kind of ceremony to cast me out. Or rid me of my demons. Something like that. Sounded like the kind of thing the dragons would do if anyone asked me.

  A soft sneeze came from my left and I glanced over just in time to see Zara sneeze again. Pretty violently actually.

  "Have you got the plague or something?" I tried to joke, but even I knew I'd failed miserably.

  "What?" she demanded.

  "The plague. You know, ring-a-ring-of-roses..." Probably best if I stopped there rather than ending up sounding like a complete nutcase.

  "The children's song?" she asked incredulously, her eyes widening. "Pay attention to the road," she snapped.

  "Sorry," I replied, doing as she said. "But yes, like the children's song. It's about the plague."

  "Is not."

  "Is too."

  "No..."

  "Seriously, Zara. Google it if you don't believe me." If there was one thing I was good at, it was random facts that did no one any good.

  "Hmmf."

  I leaned back in the driver's seat, satisfied in myself.

  "Why do they let children sing this?"

  "You think that's bad, have you ever truly thought about the words of Oranges and Lemons?" I asked. “You know, here comes the candle to light you to bed. Here comes the chopper to chop off your head. It’s quite macabre if you think about it.”

  I completely understood her reaction. I'd been the same when I'd discovered the true horror behind some of the games I'd played at school. Well. Not really played. I'd watched. But the other kids had played.

  People thought vampires were the morbid ones. But I'd never come across a vampire child singing about chopping off someone's head.

  "Humans are weird," Zara announced finally.

  "No doubt about that," I said, chuckling.

  We lapsed into a surprisingly comfortable silence. One that made me almost certain we'd be able to sustain this long term. I wasn't about to say that to her though. It'd be the quickest way to run her off. Then again, I didn't think she'd jump out of a moving car. Dragons might be tough, but they weren't suicidal.

  At least, I hoped they weren't.

  "Where are you even taking me?" Zara asked.

  "Have you ever had teppanyaki?"

  "Yes..." she drew out the word.

  "Have you ever cooked your own?"

  "No..."

  "Oh good. We're going to go cook our own dinner." I beamed, rather proud of myself.

  "You're taking me on a date...to cook?" she clarified.

  Ah. Maybe not my best idea then. It had seemed like a good one at the time.

  "Can you even cook?" she asked.

  "Yes!"

  "Are you sure about that?" She seemed rather skeptical about that.

  "Yes, I'm sure. I've lived alone since I was eighteen. If I couldn't cook, I'd have starved."

  "Starved?"

  "Yes. The phenomenon where you don't have enough food to survive."

  "I know what starving is," she said defensively. "I was just surprised you needed human food."

  "Huh. What did you think I survived on?" I was curious now. What had been going through her mind about me?

  "Well...blood?"

  "Oh."

  "Do you not need it because you're...you know."

  "A halfling?" I asked, amusement clear. Though I did regret it instantly. I knew Zara hated the word, so it was pretty cruel of me to use it.

  "Well yes."

  "I honestly don't know if I need to drink blood or not," I answered honestly.

  "How on earth does that work?"

  "If a vampire doesn't drink blood after they come of age, then they risk going mad. It can cause blood lust, murderous rages, you know, stereotypical vampire stuff. I've never really tried to not drink blood. The risks of doing that are just a little to
o big for me."

  She stayed silent for a moment, probably mulling it over, much like I was doing myself. Maybe I should have searched out an older half vampire, and actually asked whether I could survive without blood or not. Before I'd gone to live with my father, I'd never drunk blood. But that was when I was a kid. It wasn't the same.

  "Do you like it?"

  "Huh?" Did I like what? Being a halfling? Seemed like an odd question to ask. Particularly from someone who was one.

  "Drinking blood. Do you like it?"

  "Oh."

  "Well?" she prompted after I didn't answer.

  "Sorry, I'm thinking. I've never really been asked that before," I admitted.

  "But you're not sure of the answer?"

  "Do you like water?" I tried.

  "I might be a halfling, but I'm still a water dragon," Zara pointed out. Though she did seem to miss how easily the 'h' word slipped out that time. Progress!

  "Hmm, maybe a bad example then. But do humans enjoy water?"

  "I assume so," she responded. "Though not nearly as much as dragons."

  I chortled. That was true. The humans had far less ceremonies involving water. But then again, they did used to. And I had seen photos of the weird church ceremony thing with water and babies. I took it all back. Humans had plenty of water ceremonies too.

  "I think it's the same for me. It's not like having sweets, or a really nice chocolate cake. It's like water. Something that you drink, and it refreshes you. It's not something I choose, it's something I need."

  "Sounds a little like addiction to me," Zara muttered.

  "No, believe me that's different. Ta...my friend went through blood addiction recently."

  Shit. I needed to be more careful. Outing Tate and Ayra's body swapping would just get my ass kicked from the two of them. And would put a quick end to my plans of wooing Zara. Nothing ended a relationship faster than sounding like a crazy person.

  "Hmm."

  "Look, I don't expect you to believe me. But I've never killed anyone, nor do I ever intend to." I set my face into as serious an expression as I could, though my insides were being torn apart by anxiety. I wanted her to believe me. But a little part of me was doubting she would, even if I knew my words were true.

  "Have you ever wanted to?"

  "No, of course not!" I was actually bordering on offended with that one. How she could possibly think I would...

  No. That wasn't fair of me. Zara barely knew me, and she barely knew vampires. It wasn't fair of me to expect her to understand.

  "I'm sorry." And she genuinely did sound it.

  Drumming up all the courage I could, I reached out and took her hand, squeezing it gently.

  "So am I. I know you weren't trying to offend me," I said softly.

  "You always know exactly the wrong thing to say, don't you?" She snorted and I smiled lightly at the sound.

  "And yet, it's still working, isn't it?" I flashed her a cheeky grin and, though she'd probably deny it, there was a glint of affection in her eyes. "Anyway, we're here," I said, breaking the tension. And the moment. But that was okay. We'd get the moment back. Only it'd be better.

  "Oh good, I'm starved."

  She didn't wait for me to get out this time either, instead, she jumped out of the car, and stood with her hands on her hips, tutting impatiently.

  I smiled to myself. She was so perfect. And she would be mine.

  The smokey scent of smouldering charcoal and grilled meat greeted us. Images of my favourite childhood memories awoke in my head as I remembered my mother taking me to her favourite Japanese restaurant every week. Every Sunday, without fail, she would bring me along. Right until she didn’t and shipped me off to Dad.

  I pushed the bitter thoughts away and bowed slightly to the small waiter. With the biggest fake smile, he guided us to a cosy booth in the corner and I wished there were chairs, just so I could pull one out for Zara as a gentleman. Oh well, that would be for next time.

  At least, I hoped there would be a next time.

  With shaking hands, our waiter poured us each the tiniest cup of tea and the aroma of dried jasmine leaves wafted up. Mmmmm, I did love a good cup.

  Carefully and impatiently, I nipped from the hot beverage.

  “Ouch!” I scolded myself, the near-boiling water scalding my tongue and peeling the roof of my mouth away.

  “Careful, it’s hot,” Zara warned, hiding a snicker behind her hand. Her nails were perfectly manicured and I blamed Ayra for the fact that I actually knew what that meant. Or that I even recognised that she left the perfect gap between her cuticle and the actual start of the nail polish. “You could burn yourself.”

  “I noticed,” I replied dryly, wafting cold air into my food hole. There really was something wrong with my brain. Despite being fully aware that freshly-poured tea was too hot to drink, I could never stop myself from taking a little nip. As a result, I burned myself pretty much every time and yet, I didn’t learn. But why did I do it on a date?

  On such an important one, even.

  “Maybe some water will help,” she suggested, waving at the waiter and asking for some ice. The sour man nodded and hurried away so quickly, I wondered if I smelled badly or something. Maybe I did.

  Oh no, that wouldn’t be good. But I was freshly showered and I sniffed the shirt I put on to check if it was still clean. But maybe I was mistaken? Maybe I was the cause of quick getaway?

  Damn, that wasn’t a good start. I was sure Zara wouldn’t want a stinky vampire as her boyfriend. Well… She didn’t want anyone as her boyfriend at the moment, but that didn’t stop me from trying. Or taking her out on another date, even though she said she wasn’t looking for something serious. Maybe she thought the evening would end in the bedroom?

  I glanced at the beautiful woman across the room and a part of me rejoiced at the idea of bedding her. Now she’d be a conquest to brag about for the centuries to come. But on the other hand… Wouldn’t I rather spend those centuries with her?

  Yes, that was what I wanted. Her. All of her. And I wouldn’t give into my desires until she knew that I had more to offer than just a cocky smile and a quick one in the back of her car.

  “You’re staring.”

  Guiltily, I batted my eyes down and studied the napkin holder intensely. “Look, red napkins,” I tried, hoping to avoid her catching me checking her out. It really wasn’t polite to stare so openly at your dinner guest, even if you were on a date. Especially when you were on one.

  “Yes, very beautiful. Why were you staring?” she snipped, her voice taking on a croaky quality. I frowned, wondering why she was making such a big deal of it. Did she not like to be looked at?

  Or maybe.... Maybe she thought I was staring at her like the three dragons I encountered during Ayra’s egging. They definitely stared at her, but not in a good way.

  “I was just admiring your nails,” I quickly interjected, hoping to save myself. Her scowled turned into surprise and then amusement.

  “You were looking at my nails?” She pulled up her beautifully-shaped eyebrow — damn it, Ayra — and gave me a look that I could take either as a compliment or an insult. I prefered the first, but I dreaded the second.

  “Ay— Tate usually drags me around and she taught me all this stuff.”

  “Really? Are we talking about the same Tate? Sweatpants-Tate? That seems unlikely… Although recently, she has upped her wardrobe,” Zara pondered, a hint of disdain audible in her voice. I should probably be worried about slipping up and mixing the two women’s personalities, but the protectiveness towards my friend washed it away.

  “There’s nothing wrong with sweatpants,” I snapped, irrationally defending Tate. Even if I hadn’t known her for that long, I felt a very strong familiarity towards her. Maybe it was because she effectively inhabited the body I’d been friends with for many years now, but I figured I simply enjoyed Tate’s company. She was a lovely friend and didn’t deserve to be scorned about.

  “I didn’t
say there was,” she deflected, but I knew a snide tone when I heard one. I became very fine-tuned for it.

  “Your voice suggested it,” I muttered bitterly, not sure why she was being so judgy towards my friend. I always thought outcasts stuck together and she even said Tate used to be her friend? Then why was she sitting on her high horse?

  “I didn’t mean anything by it… Just—”

  “Just what?” I snapped, glaring angrily at the waiter who chose this moment to smack the trays of meat and seafood in front of us. We waited awkwardly for him to turn on the grill and flame up the hibachi next to it. Why they did both, I never really understood, but I liked having it all.

  As soon as the waiter left, Zara’s eyes met mine and a smile softened her expression. “I didn’t mean to insult, okay? I just meant that… Well… Tate just made herself an easy target.”

  “She made herself an easy target?” I replied slowly, dragging out the words, hoping I heard them wrong.

  “No, no. I just meant… Gods, I’m doing this all wrong… It’s just that she didn’t seem to even care she was an outsider. She didn’t even try to fit in,” she muttered, shifting her eyes to a tea stain on the table.

  “And you tried but it didn’t work… Right?” I asked, the cogs ticking in my sluggish head. Even if I was pretty dense, sometimes the light went on. And luckily, this time it did. She didn’t have anything against Tate, she resented herself for not being able to stop caring what people thought. For wanting to fit in when she didn’t. For not being more like Tate.

  Exasperated, Zara sighed and stabbed her fork in a raw scallop. “I tried everything. Everything. I wore the right clothes, I made sure to cover up my acne, I fixed the way I walked and the way I talked. I was nice to the girls, I smiled at the boys. I brought cupcakes or sweets to class or I invited them over for sleepovers.”

  I nodding, refraining from speaking. Hoping that my silence would spur her on. And it did.

  “My classmates made fun of my hair, so I fixed my hair. When my hair was perfect, they laughed about my accent. It took me two years to shed my accent, but then they teased me about my choice of shoes. I bought the same kind of sneakers all the girls were wearing, but then they made fun of something else. They always found something else… I tried, so so so hard to be perfect. To make myself perfect.”