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ZAVIER

“ Y ou should’ve seen her. She was spectacular.

I thought dancing with her had me dying all over again and going to heaven,” I gush, remembering Celine’s sweet body pressed against mine.

“Although,” I muse, tapping my lip. “If I’m being honest with myself, if there is a God, then I don’t think I’d be let through the pearly gates.

You know, for all the murdering and stuff …

and the indecent way I think about Celine. ”

Silence.

“You know what I mean?” I prompt, knocking my hand against his arm.

Silence.

“Are you listening?”

More silence.

“Hey!” I shout in annoyance. How can my one and only friend not want to hear about my love life? Rude.

“What!”

“You never fucking listen to me.” I throw my hands up in exasperation.

“What are we talking about?” He turns his “good” ear in my direction, but frankly I don’t see where it’s any better than the other one.

“Celine, you old coot!” I shout at the old man sitting across from me at the table. “The love of my immortal life,” I add under my breath.

My current chess partner is seventy percent deaf and almost completely blind. I met Tom sixty years ago. We hit it off when I would visit his family-owned bar. They ran into trouble with a gang who was bleeding them dry financially, and I took care of the problem.

We built a natural camaraderie after that, and I always made sure to stop and see him when I was in town.

Thankfully, he didn’t notice my ageless appearance due to his impairments.

I have to admit it's nice having something constant and unchanged in a world that does nothing but that. Being a vampire is both a blessing and a curse with the passage of time. I’ve come to accept the deaths of my family and friends, but every once in a while, I find a soul I know I will mourn when their time comes.

Tom is definitely one of those rare gems. I’ve never gotten the chance to “grow old” with someone. Only him.

“Who are you calling an old coot, Zac?” He fiddles with his hearing aids. “We’re the same age!” he yells at me from beneath his large mustache. I always tease him he looks like the prospector from Toy Story and beg him to dress up as the character for Halloween. I could be Bullseye. Giddy up.

“Take your turn. You know I’m going to whoop your ass just like I do every time.” I push my glasses up my nose and fold my arms against my chest. I don’t bother correcting him on my name anymore. He’s insisted from day one that Zav is a dumb name and resorted to calling me Zac despite my annoyance.

Tom grumbles and leans up close to the board to move his queen, setting it in direct sights of my king.

“Check.” I smirk victoriously.

“You’re a fucking cheater.” Tom knocks the pieces off the board, and I roll my eyes.

And he says I’m the dramatic one.

“And you’re a sore loser.” Kicking my feet up onto the table and crossing my ankles I survey the bar, our game now over.

Tom’s grandkids run it since he’s too old and it's been converted into a restaurant as well.

They seem like nice kids, but I avoid them to limit questions on my unchanged good looks.

Patrons murmur and piddle about the room like scavenging little bugs.

A small human child runs by and nearly bumps into my shoulder.

I recoil in disgust, wiping the invisible germs off my shirt.

Children are one of my least favorite things with their whining, screaming, and messiness but it can usually be blamed on shitty parenting.

My one exception for a crotch goblin is if Celine wants children.

I’ll give her as many as she desires. I look forward to practicing the baby making.

Wait.

Babies.

Celine.

I need to write that down.

Pulling my trusty notebook and pen out of my pocket I lick my finger and flip it open to a new page. Quickly scribbling, Breed Celine , under a new list titled Goals in my long life with Celine .

Besides, even though vampires can have children, it’s rare which means if she wants them, we’re going to be doing a whole lot of practicing. I rub my hands together in excited glee.

“You have that crazy look in your eye, Zac.” Tom shakes a rook at me, and I snatch it out of his hand.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about and how would you know? You can’t even see.” I tease him but we both have a small smile on our faces.

Putting my notebook back in my pocket I set the chess board again, collecting runaway pieces from the floor. It had been a gift from me to Tom a few Christmases ago and was handcrafted by an artisan in France.

“That’s what you’d like to think. My body may be failing me, but my mind is still fresh as a daisy. If you’re not talking, I know you’re scheming.” He goes to stand up, arms shaking and hands gripping the tabletop tightly. I zip over to help him, and he immediately scoffs.

“Off me. My eyes and ears might be useless, but my legs work just fine.” Shaking off my grip he walks away without another word. “Still don’t know how you move so fast at our age,” he gripes. “It’s damn annoying.”

“Bye, Tom,” I shout as I stride out of the bar.

I can’t help but shake my head at the grunt he responds with. One of these days my greeting will be replied to with silence, and I savor the small piece of humanity that remains in me at the sting of pain at how hard it’ll be when he’s gone.

Standing under the awning of the restaurant I watch as rain pounds onto the concrete.

My cream-colored sweater darkens from the onslaught of droplets, pooling on the fabric when I stick an arm out.

Sucking the water off my lip I head for my car parked around back.

Lightly jogging over to the sleek black sports car, I tuck my large frame in and buckle up.

Indestructible or not I am nothing if not an outstanding citizen.

I pull out my notebook before I drive away and scribble down;

Make sure Celine always wears a seatbelt. Safety is hot.

I already know the more time that passes the harder it’ll be to rein myself in when it comes to my growing desire for her.

The allure of a mate is impossible to resist long-term and I’m tired of denying to myself that she’s not mine.

I was scared at first to acknowledge it, to give truth to what I knew was staring me in the face, because I’ve been alone for so long and the small chance I was wrong held me back.

It would’ve been devastating to think I’d finally found my mate after all these years only to realize I’m wrong.

But I’m not wrong.

Celine is mine.

I can’t help but want to get to know her, though. Slowly. Properly. She’s human and deserves to be courted. I want to do things right with her. The way she’d expect.

Except I’m me, and if I’m honest with myself I can never do things the ‘normal’ way.

I suppose it stems from living hundreds of years, but it’s much more fun to do things out of the box. It keeps life interesting.

My wipers furiously swipe rain from the windshield as I bob and weave through traffic.

The irregular weather pattern has me tilting my head in question.

It’s a known fact in the supernatural community that heavy and consistent rainfall is indicative of a large gathering of creatures in one area.

We tend to keep to our own species and areas across the world.

Bustling, populated cities are vampire territory, wooded seclusion is a werewolf haven, the sirens stick to the beaches, dragons in mountain ranges, and so on.

The heavy rainfall could either mean multiple species crossing paths in a singular location or an influx of one.

I’ll have to keep my eyes and ears open for things going awry.

Celine is my top priority, and I can’t have trivial species drama interfering or putting her at risk.

One day in the near future I’ll have to tell Celine what I am.

There’s no way in hell I’m existing without her now that I have her. She might be human now, but I can change her one day. When she’s ready.

And if she’s never ready?

I shove that nagging thought away—the fear that’s taken up residence in the space where my heart used to be. She’ll turn. She has to. There’s no way I’ll survive my pathetic existence by finding my mate only to lose her to something as silly as aging.

But I know I have to be careful. Not only is she human, but a detective, and that means her skepticism is through the roof. I can tell after last night her walls are built high. I’d take a sledgehammer to them if I could, but I’ll approach her with the care I know she needs.

I stop at a red light and run a hand through my unruly waves.

Rolling up to the parking garage of the apartment building I park in my spot.

I know it’s my spot because I’ve labeled it with a sign that says, “Zav’s fucking spot so don’t park here.

Violators will be eaten.” I included a smiley face with glasses and subtle fangs only I’d notice for a finishing touch.

I take the elevator up, inhaling Celine’s scent that permeates the floor the second the elevator is open.

I let it guide me to her door. Without looking around, and knowing by my vampire senses there’s nobody else in the hallway, I let myself into Celine’s apartment.

Pocketing the universal key I stole from the front desk, I fall to my knees at the overwhelming scent of her.

It's both too much and not enough.

My mate.

I’ve heard how intense the scent of a mate can be, but I never grasped how it truly brings you to your knees. It’s going to take a monumental effort to not give in to my baser needs and claim her before she’s ready.