The Night Within Us: Dark Vampire Romance

by Sylvie Grohne

  “Ah, there you are,” he says and holds the pan out toward me a little. “I made you scrambled eggs. A late breakfast.”

  Say something, I admonish myself, but I simply stand there silently and can't suppress my grin.

  “Okay, a bloody late breakfast, but you're hungry aren't you?”

  “You can cook?” I ask, having recovered my voice.

  “My first attempt is in the trash, but I think this version turned out well. Take a seat and try it.” He leads me to the table and places a plate in front of me.

  “Not bad,” I tell him after the first bite, and I'm glad it's actually edible.

  “Not bad?” he repeats, arms folded, and gives me a penetrating look from beneath his furrowed brow.

  “No, it's good. Really.”

  He laughs, and I join in.

  “Don't you want any?”

  “No, you know I don't really need that type of nourishment. Take your time. I'll put some clothes on, and then keep you company.”

  The words are barely out of his mouth and already he has disappeared before my eyes. Looks like there was no need to worry about how he would get past Wilson without being noticed.

  I wonder whether I should use the time to call Airas. Even before I can fish my cell phone out of the pocket of my snuggly hoodie and switch it on, Noah is back before me in jeans and a t-shirt. He grabs a chair and sits down with me.

  “Eat,” he says and I smile as I shove another forkful of scrambled eggs into my mouth. I kind of like the attention.

  “Couldn't you take me with you when you beam somewhere, Mr. Spock?” I joke and yet I'm seriously curious about the answer. There are so many things I don't know about him.

  He shakes his head.

  “I can only take objects, nothing living.” He looks at me searchingly. “Can I ask you something too?”

  “Anything, go ahead.”

  “How often do you have to feed?” His question makes me aware that even now I still don't like talking about it. But he's incredibly open and honest with me, and I'd like to be too.

  “Airas thinks I should do it regularly, so I can control it better, but usually I can only do it when there's no other choice and I lose control. I'm often fine for weeks, without it – me – needing to kill, but to do that I have to avoid being physically close to people as much as possible.” I'm about to tell him why I can't fall back on the alternatives Airas uses, but then I get the feeling I don't need to justify myself to him.

  “Will you tell me about the other vampires you've met?” I ask instead.

  “What do you want to know?”

  “Well, just everything. How many there were, and where you saw them?”

  “Actually they're scattered all over the continent. They prefer places with fewer hours of sunlight. Here in San Francisco there won't be too many. I can't tell you how many there are, but most of them never stay long in one place and they mostly live in groups. Haven't you ever met one of them?”

  “No, never. But I'm not often out at night either. To be honest, I try not to think about the existence of other vampires. I basically never wanted to meet anyone like me or my father. Not that I hate my father, truly I don't. On the contrary, I love him more than I can say, and I miss him, but the thought of meeting another vampire always repulsed me up till now.”

  “Up till now?”

  “Yes, I think I'm getting curious.” My words even surprise me.

  “Maybe you already met one and you just didn't realize?”

  “Actually I have pretty good instincts. I noticed right away you were somehow different. My body reacted immediately,” I explain.

  “Oh, it did, did it?” He grins suggestively.

  “Not like that.” I act indignant and suppress my laughter.

  “Anyway, in all my time I never met a half-blood before. Strange that you can wander around in broad daylight. You and your brother, you're the first of your kind I've ever come across.”

  “Well, you're also the first man with wings I know,” I say and shovel another forkful of eggs into my mouth.

  “Speaking of your brother, where is he anyway?”

  “He took a job on the East Coast and is taking care of some business while he's at it. That might not be unusual for him, but I think his boyfriend disappearing has been really weighing on him and he's trying to get some distance.”

  “What's with his boyfriend? Why did he disappear?”

  I shrug and remember with a feeling of apprehension the dream in which I saw Phil dead.

  Noah's hand lies gently on mine and I'm shocked to find it's trembling slightly.

  A quick look at his face reveals something is wrong. He's sweating and looks pale. I'm instantly worried.

  “What's the matter, Noah? Are you unwell?”

  “Stay calm, everything's okay. I just need to feed. I'll have to leave you alone for a while,” he tells me and rises from his chair.

  I look at him in surprise, because I hadn't expected him to have to feed again so soon.

  “Some days the hunger is worse than others. More insistent. More ravenous. Today seems to be one of those days,” he explains.

  “Wait. You don't have to go now.” I quickly stand too and hold on to his arm.

  “If you need it – I mean, if you have to feed, then let's go upstairs.”

  “No.” His voice sounds stern and resolute, and his blue eyes look at me severely, in fact almost as if enraged. “Not a chance. That will never, you hear me, never be the reason. If it happens because we make love and can't do anything about it, because it's unavoidable, then that's how it is, and that's already bad enough for me. But I will never use you in that way. You're not my goddamned refrigerator or my emergency supply either. Never, understand?”

  His outburst leaves me speechless. I gulp and simply nod.

  “I'll be back soon.” His kiss goodbye is gentle, almost nothing more than a brush of the lips, and when he pulls away from me I tug him back in by his shirt once more and kiss him with such a passion it almost makes me dizzy.

  “There, now you can go,” I say and smile.

  Airas sounds upset. I know he's trying not to let it show, but I hear it in the undertone of his voice.

  “Are you really okay? Wilson told me you weren't available the whole day.” Now I can also hear concern in his voice.

  “Sure, I'm fine. Really. Tell me how you are though, where are you at the moment?”

  “I'm alright. I'm in Boston and the job's keeping me busy. Next week I'm off to New York with my client.”

  “When are you coming back?” On the other end of the line silence prevails. “Airas?”

  “I can't say yet, but if you need me I can get out of this and come home.”

  “That's not necessary. Wilson's here too, and you know how he is. Everything is going fine, and as you heard, Noah's back.”

  “Yes, I know,” he replied. “Any news? Of Phil?” The vulnerability in the question breaks my heart.

  “No, I'm afraid I haven't heard anything,” I answer sadly and search for comforting words, but he doesn't even let me go on.

  “It's okay, just checking. I'm fine,” he says way too quickly and way too lightly for it to be true.

  “I don't think he left you, Airas. Not considering how he just disappeared without a trace. I'm afraid something has happened to him.”

  “You think he's dead? Is that what you think?”

  “I'm afraid we have to consider that possibility.” I close my eyes and listen to the silence on the line.

  “And even if he is, do you think it makes a difference? He's gone.” He sounds tired and defensive.

  “You know it makes a difference. You know it!”

  “Yeah,” he replies quietly. “Let me know if you. . .” He breaks off mid-sentence.

  “Sure, of course. If I hear anything at all, I'll call you right away. Promise.”

  “Thanks. Take care, little one.”

  “You too, and don't forget – I love
you.”

  “Ditto.”

  The bunch of flowers in the library turns out to be a striking bouquet of red roses. Long-stemmed, sweet smelling Baccara roses. I hesitantly pull the closed envelope out of the arrangement and turn it over in my hand. It isn't marked but the scent that clings to it, even asserting itself over the intense smell of the flowers, is familiar. Although I've only met Jack Daniels once, I'm sure these roses are from him. He probably just wants to thank me for the meeting and for agreeing to the exhibition. But what is making me hesitate to open it? What is this strange feeling that suddenly creeps over me?

  Next thing I know, I'm turning and throwing the envelope in the trash as I leave the library. What could be in it that's so important anyway? I don't even want to know. I race upstairs to my studio, because I'm now in a hurry to put together the paintings for the showing. Better to get the whole thing sorted quickly.

  It isn't easy to select the right paintings, but I do have a good feeling about my choices in the end, contemplating my work with satisfaction. Wilson will take care of the rest, I'm sure.

  Back in my bedroom I grab my scrapbook, make myself comfortable on the bed and write in the poem that Noah recited in that unbelievable way, each and every word of which is etched on my memory. Beside it I draw a wing. As I leaf back through the pages I find the button I swiped from Noah's shirt and Jack's business card, which I doodled the Eiffel Tower next to. A long, powerful yawn makes me put the book down again.

  Only now do I realize how exhausted I feel, even though only close to two hours have passed since my return to the land of the living. Death seems to be no substitute for sleep, because I'm clearly short on the latter, as evidenced by another hearty yawn.

  I want to sleep – a deep, sound sleep – until Noah is back. I quickly slip off my clothes, crawl back into bed and let my head hit the pillow. Here everything smells deliciously of Noah. I faintly make out Nita in the house, singing 'Call Me Maybe' as she works. Everything is fine. Today everything is fine. With a contented sigh, I close my eyes and feel my muscles giving way to sleep.

  21

  Amkaya

  The air in the room is saturated with the penetrating aroma of marihuana, and the girl's kisses are sweet and arousing. When she laughs, she throws her neck way back and the café au lait colored skin tautens invitingly. She has no idea how hungry I am and what price she's going to pay for the hundred dollars she stung me for. The trivial things she says bore me to death, but I smile and begin the countdown under my breath from ten to zero which will end her life. If only I were just hungry. But no, I'm agitated, confused and furious. Incredibly furious at myself. In the neighboring apartment a tea kettle finally lets off steam with a piercing whistle. It's time now for me to let off steam too. Three, two, one – now.

  “I'm here, Amy, wake up.” Noah's voice forces its way into my awareness. I sit up suddenly and am relieved to find myself in my bedroom. It has gotten dark by now, and the bedside lamp casts the room in a soft light. Noah sits next to me on the edge of the bed, and in spite of being slightly groggy, I immediately notice he's wearing brand new clothes.

  “I. . . I had a dream,” I stammer, my fangs extended and I'm not entirely sure whether I'm saying it to him or to myself. “I often have such weird dreams.”

  “I'm no dream.”

  “Aren't I lucky?”

  “Unbelievably lucky.” He winks at me and I feel my body relaxing again and my fangs retracting, although I still feel the greed in me.

  “I'm glad you're back,” I confess softly and press his hand. “Did you go shopping too? Where did you leave your other stuff?” I ask and tug on the new jacket, which is made of a mix of jeans and leather.

  “Do you like it?” He stands eagerly and turns once on the spot.

  “Very sexy.” I stand up too and reach around his waist, putting my hands in the back pockets of his black leather pants. “Exceptionally sexy. But where is your other stuff?”

  “I left it in the same place I bought my new stuff. I don't get particularly attached to clothing and prefer to go shopping often. I'm glad you like my new things.”

  “I can clear out a shelf in my closet for you. Then you can keep this exquisite specimen and one or two others a bit longer,” I suggest.

  “Is that an invitation to move in with you?”

  “I'd give you a key, but you really don't need one.”

  The joyful gleam that lights up his eyes disappears way too quickly and is replaced by a serious expression. “You know I can't stay too long in one spot. The risk of the watchers tracking me down would be too great.”

  “Did I ever tell you I love travelling?”

  His kiss is tenderly demanding, and I return it with abandon. The animal in me is restless, but I'm no longer afraid of it taking over when I'm around Noah. Actually it seems to have gotten tamer since my fear diminished and I don't fight it so hard anymore. It's almost as if it withdraws deep within me more and more often since Noah came into my life.

  “Wait.” Noah pushes me away slightly. “I know where this is going. I don't want to be missing you for hours again. Let's go out. Let's go somewhere and distract ourselves,” he suggests.

  “Give me five minutes.”

  “You're right, the view from up here is fantastic.” I'm almost a bit euphoric as I gaze down from the roof of the skyscraper over the lit up city and take in the fascinating picture of San Francisco ablaze with light, and a bright, almost full moon with countless stars in the night sky.

  “I knew you'd like it.”

  “Me and anyone else with a pulse. Who wouldn't like this view?”

  “There's a view I like even better.” His eyes have a tell-tale twinkle in them.

  I'm tingling with anticipation, as if little fireworks are going off all over my body. "You flatterer. Stop looking at me like that. Didn't you say we were here to distract ourselves?”

  “Then you should probably have picked another outfit.” As if to emphasize his words, his gaze scans from down below at my red shoes, over my tight jeans, right up to my white peplum top, finally ending up at my eyes, with a lustful look in his. “The weakness I'm showing now has mitigating circumstances, don't you think?”

  His impish facial expression makes me laugh. “You're forgiven,” I tell him generously as I try to put a damper on my own arousal, turning my gaze back to the night sky.

  “By the way, the view isn't the only reason we're up here.”

  “No?” I look at him in surprise and even as I wonder what he might mean by that, I hear the creaking of the door we came through on the way out here. But since we're standing around the back, I can't see the person who is now coming out onto the roof.

  Only as she slowly moves toward the edge of the roof can I make out that it's a young woman. The moon shines on her red, shoulder-length hair.

  “What. . .?”

  “Shhh.” Noah lays his finger on my mouth and whispers in my ear, “She's going to die. She's going to jump to her death. You don't need to feel guilty if you feed off her now.”

  I stare at him in disbelief. “You want me to. . .?”

  “Yes. But you're not really killing her, because she's destined to die anyway. I feel a strong vibration within me. That means it's going to happen very soon. You don't have much time left.” He lays his hand firmly on my upper arm and looks me in the eye. “You shouldn't wait until you lose control and the hunger takes hold of you. I agree with your brother on that point. This is your chance to pick someone who will die anyway. It's her destiny.”

  I feel resistance and rage rising within me. Not only because I feel ambushed and forced into a corner by him, but also because I don't feel ready. I'm not ready to kill on his command and I'm also not ready to accept his fate theory and the associated powerlessness.

  “Let me go,” I hiss at him, freeing myself from his grip and heading over to the girl who now stands on the eight inch high raised edge, staring into the abyss. She wears a black shoulderless dress w
ith petticoat and dark fishnet stockings, no shoes. She has carefully placed hers side by side in front of the edge, only inches away.

  “Hey,” I say calmly so I don't give her a fright, but her head whips around and I can see the panic in her eyes. Her body sways to the side and for a moment I'm scared she'll fall down, but she regains her balance. I place myself a good ten feet away from her on the raised ledge and look down into the depths.

  “That's quite a drop,” I say and look at her from the side. She has several piercings in her right eyebrow and two more on her upper lip. She's not really pretty, but she has interesting features and proportionally large, soulful eyes, which reflect the moon and are still glued to me in fright. She's definitely no older than twenty.

  “Are you going to jump too?” Her voice sounds unexpectedly dark, but very pleasant. I look into the depths before me once more and then back into her eyes, to catch her gaze and hold it steady.

  “No, I'm not going to jump and neither are you, do you hear me? You don't even want to jump.”

  “I don't even want to jump,” she repeats softly and takes a step back down onto the roof. I follow her.

  “No, you don't. What's your name?”

  “Summer.”

  “Listen, Summer. It's important you listen carefully to me now. You feel that life is beautiful in spite of all its problems, and that living is worthwhile. What made you unhappy is in the past and unimportant. You decided today to be happy, regardless of all adversity. Go home, have a good sleep and tomorrow morning everything will be right in the world again.”

  The girl doesn't move from the spot, as if she didn't hear me, but then she quickly collects her shoes and runs to the entrance door. For a moment she stops, raises her hand as if to wave in my direction and the next moment she is gone.

  Even if I can't hear Noah, I know without a doubt he's now standing behind me. Not only because his irresistible scent is so close, but also because every fiber of my being feels his closeness.