Page 52

ZAVIER

W alking down the street the next evening as I try to sniff out any hint of Celine or Genevieve, my phone rings. After another long, unsuccessful day I answer it on instinct thinking it’s one of my contacts with an update.

“Hello?” My greeting comes out gruff and tired.

“Make a decision, handsome?” Genevieve’s voice croons from the other end.

This bitch.

My back goes ramrod straight and I can’t help the growl that comes out of my chest. Looking at the phone screen I realize it’s an unknown number. Subtly glancing around I check for her slimy self but don’t see anything.

“Yes, in fact. After much consideration I’ve decided you can fuck off.”

Genevieve isn’t impressed by my answer. She huffs and I hear bracelets clink against each other as she adjusts the phone.

“You know what I’m capable of, Zavier. Don’t fucking play with me. I’ll rip your pretty little mate’s head off without a second thought. I promise you, I’ll do it.”

“I’m not getting back together with you. Get it through your thick skull.” A passing human gives a side glance at my aggressive tone, and I head over to stand in the shadows. “Where’s Celine?”

“Wrong answer. I told you something would happen if you didn’t fall in line and now, you’ll see the consequences of your actions. Heed my warning again, next time I’m going for her life. I’m done playing nice.” She ends the call, and I crush my cell in my hand.

Throwing the pieces down the alleyway, I scream out in frustration. Should I have antagonized her? Probably not, but it physically hurt me to lie and play her game. Now Celine will most likely suffer for my stupidity.

I have to find her. I need to find her.

My breath comes out in a heave, and I close my eyes in an attempt to keep the bloodlust at bay.

Nowadays, it comes on quick and rides me hard.

Without Celine, it’s becoming harder and harder to pull myself back from my animalistic side.

Whenever I sleep, I’m plagued with nightmares where she’s tortured and killed in various ways at Genevieve’s hand.

Her scent has almost disappeared off her pillow and I fear the day it’s gone entirely, I’ll be lost.

This is getting me nowhere and I need to calm down before I do something stupid. I’m in no state to find her, wound up as I am. I need a distraction, and the perfect thing will be chess with Tom. For all I know he might have some good advice for me. Unlikely, but you can’t blame a guy for hoping.

Last we talked, he was excited one of his granddaughters was having a baby. She’s getting close to her due date, and he warned me our weekly chess game might be pushed because of it. But I don’t think he’ll mind if I drop in for a surprise match today.

Jogging the few blocks it takes me to get to the restaurant, I hop up the stairs and enter the building.

“Tom, ready for me to beat your ass at chess?” I sing-song in an attempt at positivity.

He’s already sitting in his usual spot, and I head toward him. The place is quiet and devoid of customers since it’s almost closing time, but I love that he’s still doing his thing in the corner. Slightly grumpy he’s still a hard worker and wants what’s best for the restaurant.

“You don’t know how much I need this.” I blow out a breath.

It feels wrong to be playing a game when I should be looking for Celine, but I also know a visit with my friend will help me in the long run. I need to clear my head so I can think logically. I feel like I’m missing something.

I grab the board and set it on the table before plopping down in the seat across from him.

“You go first.” I fold my hands on top of the table and look at my pieces.

Silence.

“I said you go first, you old coot,” I raise my voice since he has “selective” hearing and wait for his move. “Do you need to turn up your hearing aids?”

Silence greets me once more.

“Tom.” I finally look at him in exasperation and immediately wish I hadn’t.

Tom is indeed sitting across from me, but his plaid shirt is coated in blood.

Thick lines of it start from his neck and run down in crimson rivers to the floor.

Blank eyes stare back at me, and his mouth is agape.

I realize I don’t hear any heartbeat. The only sound I hear now that I’m truly paying attention is the drip, drip, drip of his life source onto the wood paneled ground.

I should’ve smelled the blood. I should’ve known the second I walked in here. That’s how distracted I am that I didn’t even realize my friend, my only friend, was waiting here for me like a trussed turkey. A gift from Genevieve no doubt, to prove to me that she’s not fucking around.

“Holy fuck. No.” My chair thuds loudly as I run over to him.

Barely touching his arm, I jump back when his head quite literally falls off his neck and rolls across the floor with a sick thud. Blood trails behind it and I’ll never get the image of his soulless eyes peering into mine while his body remains headless in his chair.

“Tom?” I squeak out, wishing away the horror in front of me. “No, no, no!”

I’ve killed thousands of people in my three hundred years. Some might say I have no soul, no moral compass. As a vampire who’s to really say, but I’d like to think I do. Most humans that I’ve killed were those who deserved it. Tom most certainly did not deserve this.

My friend. One of the few friends I have left in this world.

Had. Fuck that hurts.

I clutch my chest as tears cascade down my cheeks.

He doesn’t deserve this.

A kind old man who loves his family and is weeks away from meeting his new baby granddaughter.

A man who is a staple in the city and whose loss will be felt seismically.

The one small kernel of good that comes out of this is that he’s reunited with the love of his life, but even that thought doesn’t ease the roiling of my stomach.

I swipe my tears away when they trail down my cheeks.

Glancing back at his body, I spy a bloody stained piece of paper. It sits on his crudely cut neck, and I cringe while grabbing it. Gore has never bothered me before but knowing that this is Tom has bile climbing up my throat.

The scrawled handwriting on the paper makes me vibrate with fury.

She’s next.

Love, G.

Paper crumples under my fist and I fucking lose it.

I refrain from tearing apart Tom’s restaurant out of respect, but the urge to destroy something is very much there.

My chest heaves and my vision turns fully crimson.

This hasn’t happened since my early days of being turned.

It’s like peering through a colored lens, the red swirls and floats wherever I look.

I flex my fists, and my fangs make themselves known.

I hiss around them knowing if I don’t drink some blood soon it’ll be bad news.

How fucking dare she?

First my mate, and now my best friend. Genevieve is begging for death. I’ll take great pleasure in separating her spine from her body and stringing it up like a gory Christmas garland for all to see.

Celine says I’m not a monster, but right now, knowing all the things I want to do to Genevieve, I feel like one. I won’t be able to rest until Celine is safely back in my arms.

If Genevieve thought this would be enough to get me to hand myself over to her, then she doesn’t really know me at all.

Not wanting Tom to exist in this state any longer, I attempt to squelch my anger and give my friend the sendoff he deserves.

I’m lucky none of his family members have seen him yet and can’t have them finding this.

Two of the workers are out cold in the back where thankfully, Genevieve didn’t kill them, but they’ll wake up with a nasty headache.

“Hey, buddy, I’m going to get you all cleaned up,” I whisper brokenly, and set about my task.

Using stray tablecloths, I wrap Tom’s body. Then I use a trash bag to cover him. It feels wrong and makes me furious all over again that this is what I have to do. Then I set about cleaning the blood up best I can and disposing of anything too far gone to keep.

Under the cover of night, I transport Tom’s body to a funeral home and compel them to call the family tomorrow to tell them there was a tragic accident and the body can’t be seen because of said accident.

Suspicious? Yes, but they deserve a proper goodbye.

No one should have to see their loved one like this.

I’m used to this kind of carnage and even I’m upset by the sight of it.

Thinking of how scared he must’ve been in his final moments fills me with rage all over again.

The last thing I compel them to do is to send all bills to me.

I leave the funeral home once I’m certain everything is taken care of, and I won’t be remembered, and return to the restaurant.

I look over my work to make sure nothing is out of place.

Our chess board catches my eye, and I gulp at the pieces we’ll never move against each other again.

No more jokes cracked, no more shouting, and no more Tom.

My eyes narrow in, realizing a piece is missing. Weird.

I had known one day Tom would die and I’d go on living, but I never expected it to be like this.

A part of me crumbles and I get a peek into the human part of myself I thought I’d lost a long time ago.