Page 3 of Vampire so Virtuous (Boston Vampires #1)

“Cally! Sweetheart!”

The summons was unnecessary—Cally had already spotted Eve across the crowded café and was weaving her way through the tables. Her friend had a habit of being embarrassingly loud, especially for someone who always dressed in black.

“Heya,” Cally greeted as she reached her.

Eve shot up, squeezing through the narrow gaps between tables to pull Cally into a hug, bussing both her cheeks with an exaggerated ‘Muah!’ A classic Eve move, one that never failed to earn glances from Boston’s typically reserved crowd.

“You look radiant!” she declared, all theatrical warmth, then leaned back to actually take in Cally’s face. Her expression dropped. “Oh. Shit. No, you don’t. You look like hell.”

“Thanks.” Cally grimaced. “Although fair. Nice to see you too.”

“You okay?”

“I’m fine.” Cally dropped her bag beside the chair, pulled it out, and slumped into it. Eve slid back into her seat, narrowly avoiding brushing her ass against a plate of waffles the couple beside them were trying to enjoy.

She leaned forward with her elbows on the small table. “You look like you haven’t slept in a week, seen a ghost, or someone’s died. Which is it?”

Cally winced. “Maybe all three? Let’s get some coffee. I’m desperate for caffeine.”

“Sure.” The café had waitstaff, a little touch that made it feel more personal, and Eve flagged one down. “You want anything else? Food?”

“I’m good.” The thought of eating made Cally’s stomach turn. “You go ahead though.”

The waitress arrived, harried but cheerful. “Good morning. What can I get you?” She poised a pen above her pad.

“Morning,” Eve replied. “Two lattes. Latte?” Cally nodded. “Two lattes, and do you still have those raspberry pastry things?”

“Sure. ”

“One of them, then, please.”

“Coming right up.” The waitress slipped her unused pad and pen back into her apron.

“So tell me,” Eve pressed as soon as the waitress turned away.

“Nothing to tell,” Cally said. “I’m not sleeping, and when I do, it’s… not good sleep.”

Her friend’s brow furrowed. “The nightmares you mentioned?”

“Yeah.” Cally looked down at the table.

“Still getting them?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s not like you, is it?”

“No, no it’s not. Everyone gets them, I suppose. Except this past week it’s been every time I fall asleep.” And they linger on my mind even when I’m awake.

“What kind of nightmares?”

Sinister shadows behind me in a dark place, unable to detect them, no matter which way I turn. Helplessness. Terror.

And underlying it all, inexplicably, the heat of my own arousal.

“The usual kind.”

“Um.” Eve sounded tentative, which wasn’t like her. “Have you tried sleeping with the light on, or something?”

Every damn night . “I’m twenty-six.”

“Sorry.” Her frown returned. “So has something happened?”

Cally regretted opening up, but Eve wouldn’t let it go now. “Well, I kinda almost fainted walking home the other night.” And I had a weird mark on my neck I couldn’t explain. Besides, it looked three or four days old by the time she’d noticed it, so how could it be related?

Eve’s eyes widened. “I forgot to ask. How did your date go?”

Cally laughed, a sardonic scoff. “I walked out on him before we’d finished the starters.”

“Shit, no way!”

“Yes way. Dude was a pick-up artist and full of himself.”

“Oh, babe, I’m sorry.” She scrunched her face in distaste. “Did you tell Lily, or would you like me to?”

“We swapped some texts.” Cally said. “I want to warn her to stay away from him, but it’s not really my place.”

“I’ll talk to her.” Eve grimaced. “I feel guilty. I pushed you into it.”

Cally shook her head. “Doesn’t matter. Old news.”

Eve reached across the table, laying her hand on Cally’s. “The right man is out there.”

“Thanks, but I’m off men for good.”

Eve perked up. “Girls?”

“Sorry, still hetero.”

“I keep telling you it’s a spectrum. No one is a hundred percent straight.”

“I prefer men.”

“Which you’re ‘off for good’?”

Cally gave her an exasperated look.

Eve waved a hand. “They’re not all pick-up artists or insecure pricks like Rob was.”

“It’s not Rob. It’s not even Stefan. It’s me, ” Cally said, her throat tight.

Eve looked skeptical. “Meaning?”

“ Every damn man I’ve been interested in. It goes the same way.”

“Meaning?” Eve repeated, this time with an edge to it.

“Oh come on. You’ve seen what happens.”

“What I’ve seen is men who are too fragile in their egos. It’s hardly your problem.”

“But it is, isn’t it? It’s like when you’re six feet tall, and you only want to date men who are taller.”

“You’re five-eight.”

“Five-nine. You’re missing the point.”

“What point?” Eve grinned. “That you’ve grown?”

Cally shot her a look. “You know what I mean.”

“There’s a man who isn’t threatened by you. Who won’t see this”—she waved a hand, encompassing Cally—“as something intimidating, but something desirable .”

“Even though I could kick the shit out of them if I wanted to?” Cally shook her head. “Doubtful. That’s not what men want.”

“Weak men.”

“Is there any other type?” Cally muttered. “Let’s drop it, okay?”

“So find one at a taekwondo tournament.”

“No thank you. The type that goes to those things is even worse.”

“Online dating, where you can—”

“I’m happily single.”

“Okay, okay.” Eve lifted her hands in surrender.

The waitress arrived then, offering a reassuring smile as she caught the tail end of the conversation. She slid a tray onto their table with a polite, “Enjoy.” Two tall, frothy coffees, a small plate with the raspberry pastry, and the bill, curled in on itself .

They both took a sip of their coffee.

“So you fainted walking home.” Eve prompted as soon as the waitress had left. “And you think that’s why you’re having nightmares?”

“ Almost fainted. I don’t know. Maybe.” Yes.

Eve shifted in her chair. “You’re going to think I’m nagging, but I bet this was down that shortcut you take, wasn’t it?”

“Yes?”

“I knew it.” Eve said. “Why do you go down there? Alone and at night?”

Cally rolled her eyes. “Because it’s faster than walking the long way round.”

“And if you encounter someone?”

“I have a third-dan blackbelt in taekwondo.”

“And a fourth-dan blackbelt in being stubborn.” Eve glared across the table. “This time you fainted. What if next time someone finds you?”

“What if I get hit by a bus walking the other way? You’d feel guilty for ever .”

“Stubborn… reckless…” Eve flapped a frustrated hand. “Stubborn.”

“Who are you, my mom?”

Eve gave a start. “I… Sorry, I—”

“I said it, not you.” Cally shrugged, dismissing it. “I may not have one, but I’m still allowed to use the word.”

“Right. Of course you are.” Eve cleared her throat. “So what’s causing your nightmares?”

Cally toyed with her mug, craving the comfort of its warmth. “Probably nothing. I’m just feeling discombobulated.”

“Do you think you should see a doctor?”

“What’s the point?”

Eve gave her a flat look. “Because you have nightmares every time you sleep.”

“Yeah, but…” Cally waved a hand in exasperation. “A doctor won’t help there.” A therapist, more like.

Eve cocked her head to the side. “Some melatonin, maybe? Not suggesting you need it. But worth trying?”

“I’m sure it’ll pass. Don’t worry about it, forget I said anything.”

“Well. Okay. If you’re sure.” Eve looked unconvinced, then tried to lighten the mood. “So, want to come shopping with me?”

“Uh,” Cally demurred. “I was thinking of heading to the dojang.”

“Yeah, I figured when I saw the bag.” She nodded as if giving her approval. “The workout will help. Maybe it’ll even scare your demons off. ”

“That’s the idea.”

“You still okay for our session with the girls tomorrow night?”

“Ugh.” Cally groaned. “Do I have to?”

“Yes.”

*

Cally swiveled on her standing leg, her other arcing up in a crescent kick, her foot slapping away the pad.

“Good. Yop chagi combos.”

She switched legs, lashing out with a side kick as Joon retreated; she hopped on her standing leg and struck again, then spun into a back kick.

He sidestepped her, following the spin. “Good. You’re favoring your back kick.”

Now he was behind her, and she whipped into a roundhouse, feinting towards his body before striking his head.

He blocked just in time, her foot glancing off the top of the pad. “Better.”

Around they danced. As Cally got into the flow, her kicks became faster, more aggressive.

It was all familiar, and Joon was fully defensive, padded up.

She didn’t have to worry about anticipating counters or retaliations.

The only sounds were their feet on the mat, the slap of her foot against his pads, and their grunts of effort or her shouts of kihap .

Her mind began to wander.

Why am I so scared?

She focused back on what she was doing, berating herself. Even though it was a simple practice, she needed to be here, in the present, not off daydreaming.

A flying kick turning into a back kick, switching legs into a crescent kick; pad, pad, pad.

Before long, her mind wandered again.

What is there to be scared of?

She launched forward into a double roundhouse, alternating legs striking his pad, then finished with her foot flashing out towards his head. This one landed, his pads not rising in time, and Joon grunted from the impact.

“Oof.” He staggered away. “Break.”

Cally took a pace back, her fists unclenching and lowering. “Shit, sorry Joon.”

He shook his head, trying to clear it. “Ugh, I felt that one.”

“I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to catch you.”

“Heh. Sure you did. What’s with all the aggression today? ”

“Oh, I… You know.” This was embarrassing . “Working through some stuff.”

“Mmm. Well, thanks for taking it out on me. If you were any other student, I’d say you need to work on your control, but clearly, you don’t. At least, not your physical control.” He shook himself again, then readied his guard. “You won’t catch me the same way twice.”

He was right, she didn’t. The next time she caught him was a twisting kick to the midsection, after a jumping scissor kick to the head. He blocked one and missed the other, and winced at the impact.

“Ow. You kick like a horse,” he said, pulling away his body pad to rub at his side.

“‘Like a horse?’” She placed her hands on her hips, mock-glaring. “Is that supposed to be a compliment?”

He laughed ruefully. “Okay, okay. It just slipped out. But that’s going to have to be all for today. We’ve been at it long enough, and I’m not sure I want to take another kick like that, pads or no pads.”

“Sorry, Joon.”

“Don’t be. It means you’re good, okay? But you still need to work more with your hands. Next time we’ll spar for real, and I can get my own back.”

She grinned. “Bring it on, old man.”

“I believe the correct response is, ‘Yes, Honored Teacher.’”

She snapped straight and bent into the respectful kyungye . “Yes, Sabomnin .”

Joon returned her bow, and together they walked off the mats. “Have you given the Open any more thought?”

Cally grimaced. “Will you hate me if I say I’m not interested?”

He tried to hide his disappointment. “It’s up to you. I think it’s good to—”

“Have a goal?” Cally finished for him. “I think you may have mentioned that. Once or twice. A month. For the past six years.”

Joon gave a dry chuckle. “All right, all right.”

Cally peeled off her hand protectors. “Well, I do have a goal.”

“Oh?”

She hesitated. “I know it usually takes three or four years to go from third dan to fourth, but—”

“That’s more of an average,” Joon said quickly, his interest sharpening. “You want to go for it?”

“It’s only been eighteen months, but the Open is months away anyway. Let’s say we aim for fourth dan by the time it comes around.” She tilted her head at him. “Do you think that’s doable?”

Joon scratched the back of his neck, his brow furrowed as he considered it. “If you keep going at this rate, I’d say it’s doable.” He paused thoughtfully. “Yeah, I think that’s a decent goal. You’re very driven, aren’t you?”

“Now I’m ‘driven’?” She gave him a flat look. “I thought you were complaining I wasn’t goal-oriented enough.”

He looked sheepish. “I might’ve.”

Cally looked fondly around the dojang. “I love it, I guess. Oh, it might’ve started because my dad wanted me to learn, but I’m good at it and I enjoy it.”

And it helps me find peace. I need some of that right now.