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VINCENT

Ireturned home to the apartment building I’d lived in for the past decade. As the elevator rose, I felt the lingering stress drain away, leaving me relaxed and restored. My home was the one place I could be myself. No one was there watching, judging, or expecting anything of me. No one besides Karl, my house manager and personal assistant.

“Good evening, sir,” Karl said as I stepped into the apartment, removed my coat, and handed it over. “May I bring you anything?”

“No. Thank you,” I replied, smiling with genuine fondness while being careful, as always, not to show any teeth. The man likely knew I wasn’t human, but he was discreet enough not to ask questions.

“How is everything this evening?” I asked.

“Going well, sir. I’ve already taken care of your rooms, your study, and the mail is on your desk.”

“Thank you, Karl. I’m heading there now,” I said.

“Very good, sir,” Karl replied and withdrew.

The apartment was decorated in a modern, minimalist style. Yet the neutral tones and clean lines were accented with artifacts from my life. I’d subtly displayed my personal history among the polished wood tables and low seating, gentle reminders of the decades and centuries that had passed. That evening, I found myself needing the memories.

Stepping into my study, I plucked a small dog figurine from a bookshelf crammed with leather-and-cloth-bound classics. It had been carved for me by a former lover. I stroked its head and reverently placed it back in its customary spot. Although I didn’t take much with me when I moved from place to place, this was one of my most precious possessions.

My study and all the apartment’s perimeter rooms had stunning views. The massive windows displayed the city in all its nighttime glory. It was beautiful and soothing in a detached sort of way, and I never grew tired of it.

I settled into my favorite chair, a mid-century leather masterpiece that had molded perfectly to my form. The novel I’d chosen the night before waited for me on the nearby table. Just as I began to immerse myself in a world of mystery and intrigue, my cell phone buzzed in my pocket. I set the book back down and checked my phone. The screen read, “Nathaniel”. Of course.

“Hello, Nathaniel, my dear,” I answered with a hint of sarcasm. “To what do I owe the honor?” I knew very well why the vampire was calling.

“Vincent,” Nathaniel’s voice came over the line. “I was just calling to check in on you.”

“I’m quite well, thank you.”

“I was talking to Anna a little while ago,” Nathaniel said, pausing briefly before going on. “She mentioned you seemed a bit off.”

I groaned inwardly. “Off” was one way to put it. Naturally, Anna would run and tell her mate, Nathaniel, after I’d left. And, of course, Nathaniel would be concerned.

“I assure you,” I said. “I’m fine. I’ll admit I grew unnecessarily impatient with my young companions, and for that, I am sorry.” I took a breath. “Did you happen to see Mateo’s new progeny?” I asked, trying to change the subject. I really didn’t want to discuss my behavior.

“No, but I heard he turned another one,” Nathaniel said. “How many does that make? Five? Six?”

“I have no clue, but either way, it’s unseemly.”

“Eh, it’s not so bad. He seems happy with his family, and you know he loves a full house,” Nathaniel said. “Do you ever hear from any of yours?”

The question caught me off guard. We hardly ever discussed my children. It had been fifty years since Nathaniel had mentioned them. I wondered what my friend was up to. I recovered quickly.

“God, no,” I said. “I’m not even sure any are left. The last I heard, there was only one. She might still be somewhere in France, but I don’t know. We didn’t part on the best of terms, as you recall. I lost contact many decades ago.”

“That’s a shame,” Nathaniel said. “For creatures like us, company is important, especially as time goes on.”

I didn’t respond.

“Anyway, I just wanted to make sure you were okay,” he said, as if he hadn’t breached a sensitive topic. “Let me know if you’d like to get together later. I could come by?”

“No,” I said. “I’m fine, really.”

“Alright. I’ll call you tomorrow. Take care.”

“Good night, Nathaniel,” I said as I hung up.