Page 22

When we arrived at Patrick’s, Anna was already in our customary spot. Nathaniel slid into the booth beside her and kissed her hello. She gave him a long look, which he returned with a nod. I understood she was asking, in the way of mated vampires, how it had gone between the two of us. I sat opposite the couple and greeted Anna with a smile when she turned her attention to me.

“You don’t look as bad as he described,” she said. “From the way he talked, it sounded like you were at death’s door.”

“Not quite, but I look much better than I did when he first saw me last night. It’s all thanks to him and his…resourcefulness.”

“Yes, his resourcefulness. I’ll have to start calling her that from now on.” She smirked at her mate. Vampires were naturally jealous, but humans typically didn’t count—unless they intended to turn the human; then it was a different story. Anna must not have felt threatened by the nurse. If that ever changed, the poor woman wouldn’t last long, I thought.

“The crowd is thin tonight,” I said, looking around the bar. Only about half as many humans were there as was normal for the time of night. “Is this because of the disease?”

“Yes. The recent news is alarming many people. They’re unclear about how this is being transmitted among humans, but people are beginning to avoid crowded places,” she said.

“It’s not just alarming to the humans,” Nathaniel said, casting a glance at his partner. “This is the first time Anna has left the house in two days, choosing to eat in, as it were.”

“I see. Well, a lot has changed,” I said, turning to Anna. “I want to apologize for my rudeness at our last meeting. I advise everyone to feed carefully and take this seriously. I certainly will moving forward.”

“No need to apologize, Vincent. This has taken all of us by surprise. Who would have thought something like this could affect us? It’s a strange time,” she said. Her civility surprised me. She wasn’t usually rude to me, but she never went out of her way to make me feel better, either. I thought recent events must have shaken her, too.

“Indeed,” I replied, shifting to lighter topics.

The conversation continued. We stuck to neutral topics and ordered drinks to maintain appearances and justify the table. After some time, I excused myself and got up to mingle with the humans and find my dinner.

The crowd was smaller, and I could feel the tension among the people as they chatted. Snippets of conversation centered on the disease and recent news. Some groups deliberately avoided the topic, but the laughter and chatter felt strained or oddly manic. Hunting would be difficult on several levels.

After a few minutes, I spotted a young woman looking at me through the crowd. She was lovely, alone, and seemed interested—all points in my favor. I smiled in her direction and waited; I didn’t want to seem too eager to her or to my friends, who were undoubtedly watching.

The woman eventually made her way over, and we sat together at one of the smaller tables. She was beautiful, with a pointed chin, a silky black bob, and liquid brown eyes. I found myself wishing I were up for a longer evening of diversion and that I had fewer chaperones in tow. But given the need for caution—and my need for blood—it was probably best to get right to the point. I didn’t want to waste an evening and risk missing a meal if this human was among the recently infected. I wondered how long it took for them to show symptoms. This young woman certainly looked healthy enough. I thought back to the man in the alley. Would I have noticed a difference in appearance or scent if I had known what to look for?

As we continued making small talk, I knew I was stalling. I had fed only once since the incident, and that was in a controlled setting. I realized I was worried about how this would play out—not just about finding a meal that wouldn’t make me sick, but also about how I would react when I finally sank my teeth into a human. Was I really as okay as I’d assured Nathaniel? I decided there was no better time than now to find out.

I guided the conversation in the required direction, and we got up to leave together. As we stepped onto the street and headed toward the young woman’s apartment, I glanced back to see Nathaniel discreetly following behind. A wave of relief washed over me. My friend’s presence gave me courage, and my trepidation faded.

As planned, when we arrived, I made an excuse not to follow her into the building. However, we managed a long goodbye in the dimly lit doorway. It didn’t take long, and the taste of her blood confirmed she was as healthy as she looked. I fed gently and carefully, and my confidence grew with each swallow. I left her weak-kneed but smiling, assuring her that I liked her too and promising to see her again sometime. Who knew? Maybe I would.

Half a block back toward Patrick’s, I found Nathaniel waiting. The red in his hair glowed under the streetlamp like a flame in the night. “Are you spying on me?” I asked.

“Of course.”

“Voyeur,” I teased.

“Very funny. You left with her.”

“I did.”

“You were worried.”

“I was worried,” I admitted. It was comforting to be with someone who understood me so deeply. “Despite my assurances about my recovery, I was concerned things might get out of hand. I haven’t been as subtle lately as I usually am, and I’m still getting over my illness. I thought it would be better to experiment in a setting that’s less…public.”

“And it went well.”

“It did. Thank you again.”

“You don’t have to thank me, Vincent. I care about you.”

As we walked to Patrick’s in comfortable silence, my body and soul felt whole again. I didn’t know what would happen next or what I would do, but I was glad I was still alive. I still questioned my role and my reason for being, but the despair had vanished. I was at peace.

Back snug in our usual booth, we chatted casually, and it almost felt like old times. I was relaxed, restored, and ready to resume our nightly routine. I was confident this human crisis would soon pass, as they always did.

The group was about to adjourn for the evening when Jonathan burst through the front door. His usually graceful body was stiff with anxiety, and his cultured posture sagged under an unseen weight. Something was terribly wrong. He approached the table and collapsed into the seat beside Nathaniel.