Kailani

The glitter inside my obsidian-colored drink sparkled under the bar lights. I swirled my wrist and watched an iridescent purple slip through the liquid. A dark alcohol that tickled the back of my throat and awarded me with symphonies of frenetic hearts.

My elbow hung over the back of the booth, dancing the glass beside my head. I took a sip and observed the number of people moving around the dance floor. Usually, I’d be in the middle of the room with my teammates after a big win, but not tonight.

Tonight, my stomach was in knots.

It hit me a few hours ago. An uncommon sensation. The dull hum in the pit of my stomach interrupted every attempt I made to make friends with a woman at the bar. She was beautiful. Funny, too. It could have been an enjoyable night. If I could have gained some control over the tightening wire coiling inside me, I would have taken the dance floor with her hours ago.

It was irresponsible to be here this early on a Sunday. Technically, I had a meeting with the peacemisers at four to discuss the upcoming three-week break of games to melt and replenish the field. It wasn’t a serious meeting. A short few minutes where I had to smile and pretend I wouldn’t let my team practice off campus. Which was utter bullshit. I knew for a fact those Briarwood players yanked shit from their ass to guilt Madelyn enough to make them a practice pad.

Madelyn was quite the pushover. It was no surprise Briarwood voted her star athlete three years running, despite her not being a true member of their styx team.

I under appreciated a lot that Madelyn did for the school, but I had my concerns. I watched her grow up. I considered her a relative, of sorts. I knew most of what she busied herself with was meant to keep her own demons tied down.

Regardless, Briarwood should worry about missing practice time. We had a three-game streak over them. A much larger streak than most years. I was sure they were quaking in their skates while we enjoyed an early night out in Savannah, Georgia. It’s the entire reason their hell hound captain moved up the meeting. She wanted to get in my head before our next match.

There was a nice underground bar-club scene in Savannah. It was newer. An establishment created by an old art student from the local college. It mostly housed art students after school hours. Pretty on brand. It allowed us to fit in without being questioned for odd body anomalies.

“You’re making that face again. You’re pissed over something.” Vincent appeared at the end of the table.

With a sigh, I placed my drink on the table and tore my eyes away from the dance floor.

Vincent lowered down on the other side of the booth with two shots in hand. He glanced at my drink before sliding one short glass across the table.

He was my teammate, and somehow my best friend. I enjoyed his company, and he enjoyed calling me out on all my bullshit. We were a good balance of chaos on the ice.

“What’s up?” he hummed.

I raised the shot to my lips and mumbled around the rim, “I’m not pissed.”

His eyes rolled as I knocked it back. A short burn tickled my throat, then disappeared. It would take much more than a weak shot and nursing three drinks to take effect on my system.

Vincent fell back against the tufted cushions. His eyes lazily followed mine, spinning his empty glass with two fingers. His dark tattoos were visible through his white shirt where the fabric didn’t quite cover the entirely of his stomach.

He’d always given off that cool boy aesthetic. I think that’s why girls approached him more than guys. The laid-back ‘doesn’t give a shit’ aura that betrayed his entire personality was quite the magnet for women in this scene. Unlucky for them, Vincent Vaughn-Leos was gayer than a podcasting drag queen. A hell-born, Soul Eater raised by man-eating lesbians. How much gayer could Vincent get?

“We creamed Briarwood,” he reminded me. “You should get your victory dance in. That cut against Morana was brutal! Get loose. Get laid. Why are you being so⁠—”

“I don’t know.” I sank against my seat.

Truly. I had no idea what was wrong with me. By this time any other night, I’d be on the dance floor with our friends. Some nights I’d find a woman to dance with, mess around with a girl, maybe.

I searched the crowd as the song shifted. My eyes caught on a woman a few feet away. She was jumping up and down with her friends, shoulder length green hair with a small bit tucked behind her left ear.

Maybe if I . . .

The muscles in my stomach balled up when I considered slipping into the crowd to introduce myself. She was attractive. I’ve slept with humans before. It would be as any other regular night, and yet I hesitated. That dull ache that ended my fun earlier this evening returned.

Vincent slid down the seat until he sat diagonally to me. We were in a circular booth. The dark green leather seats weren’t as comfortable as my broke-in reading chair at home, but they had become a slice of the human life I never got to live. This club, Wicked Knights, pulled in the right crowd to make my weekends interesting.

Just not tonight.

Fuck. Why not tonight?

“Are you having trouble with the humans?” Vincent asked.

At his nervous glance around us, I shook my head.

“No.” I pushed my drink aside and considered his question. “No, no, I’m fine with the humans.”

I hadn’t had trouble with my bloodlust in decades. We were smack dab in the middle of my old drinking grounds, so I understood his need to ask.

The sensation had nothing to do with hunger. Hunger didn’t mimic a chain tugging me out of the booth. It was invasive to the point of mania. A blindsiding headlight sprayed into my eyes until I was aggravated enough to pounce at the first sign of movement. Hunger always acted with need first to fulfill the desire that coursed through every ounce of me.

Mindless. Hunger was mindless.

“I might head out early.” I pursed my lips as a crease formed between Vincent’s bushy brows. With my experience in Georgia, it was smart to play it safe. “Not because I can’t handle myself. I have a lot on my mind with that meeting in a few hours, and I can’t think under these damn lights.”

I waved a hand above us to emphasize the strobe lights that turned on after ten.

Vincent tapped his fingers over the tabletop.

“I should go with you,” he insisted, glancing at our teammates.

“Stay here, Vince.” I rose from the table and passed him my drink. A teasing smile tugged at my lips, eager to make him less concerned. “You never know when a hot guy, searching to get his soul sucked, might walk through the door.”

Vincent scowled. He tried his best to keep up his annoyance, but I noticed the twitch at the corner of his lips. He ran a hand through his thick, dark hair and scoffed.

“Ha. Ha,” he spat, snatching my abandoned drink from the middle of the table. “You’re not funny, Jauregui.”

“Please. I have centuries of humor.” I winked.

Vincent reached out and grabbed my hand. I laced our fingers and squeezed tight before letting him go, reassuring him all was fine. Or it would be fine. Either way, Vincent deserved to have fun, and it wasn’t appropriate for me to make everyone else miserable with my sour attitude tonight.

“Be safe. Use protection.” I leaned down and kissed his head, lightly smacking his baby cheek. “Don’t race the sun!”

“Yeah, whatever, Mom.” He shoved me away from him. “Don’t eat anyone on your way out!”

I waved a hand over my shoulder and slipped through the crowd. My ears strained to check on my teammates, placing them all over the room through the chaos before reaching the stairs.

❀

Savannah, Georgia, was delightfully eerie at night.

The Spanish moss that hung over the trees shifted through the wind and redirected the moon’s shadow. It was peaceful. An occasional horn from passing cargo ships down the river, but other than that there was a liveliness to the nightlife here that remained true to that Savannah charm.

My footsteps slowed to a stop when I reached the edge of Forsyth Park. I closed my eyes and inhaled the fresh air. Little copper hints tickled my nose from coins tossed into the fountain. Same with lingering coffee beans from the local late-night café down the street where students spent hours studying. Sometimes, if the homeless had enough funds, they would stick around there during the winter.

There were a few homeless humans scattered around the lush grass and park benches. One caught my eye halfway down the brick pathway. She huddled close to the old iron bench with a thin jacket draped over her waist.

“Humans,” I muttered in disgust.

My feet carried me toward her. I dropped my shoulders and shredded my jacket off my body. Anger ripped through me. Centuries of life couldn’t strengthen my patience.

There were too many people in this city, in a lot of cities, that had nowhere to go. It reminded me of my childhood. I never enjoyed seeing people wait in the streets for late shipments of grain and rations of bread. It was my family’s purpose to keep the people out of famine. That’s what it meant to be the royal family.

Though my father wasn’t always a perfect man, he stood his ground on the treatment of his people. He was ruthless with a heart of gold. My father was one of the greatest emperors Rome had ever seen. I believed that too, even if he spurred the idea of becoming immortal. Father wanted our family to rule till the end of time.

He never would have watched hundreds of his people sleep on benches through the chilling autumn nights.

Humans were selfish. I refused to fall into that monstrosity in my death.

“Pardon me,” I spoke up as the woman’s eyes opened at the sound of my steps.

Her hand flew up and grabbed her necklace. The crucifix dug into her fragile fingers. She eyed my fangs as I took a cautious step backward and extended my arm.

“For you.” I waited for her hesitant fingers to wrap around the collar of my jacket, then sank a few steps further. “The cold bites. You should stay warm when you can.”

“It’s not the only thing that bites out here,” she muttered.

This wasn’t abnormal. A lot of the homeless community saw us come and go. We weren’t only trying to blend in with students at the academy but tourists, hunters, visiting vampires and witches, and anyone else that gave us too much attention.

I laid a hand on my stomach and slightly bowed my head to her.

“Good night.” I turned to continue down my normal path to the train station, but she called after me.

“What’s your name?” she asked. There was a tiny more confidence in her eyes when I turned back around. “I’ve seen you around here. Helping us.”

“Kailani.” I paused when she whispered my name under her breath. “Kailani Jauregui, ma’am.”

The woman nodded.

“Be true, Kailani.”

I smiled. “Stay warm, miss.”

With that, I took my chance to leave the park and return to the sidewalk.

It wasn’t until a few blocks down the street that a shiver violently rushed through me. It wasn’t possible for me to give in to the sensation of being cold. I was dead.

My nerves played tricks on me. I had phantom memories over the years so clear that I almost remembered the missing sections of my human life. Becoming a vampire not only traumatized me, but it left me disconnected from who I once was. I became a body of nothing. No heart, no soul, no blood, no human qualities other than the skin-like armor I wore over my venom-fused bones. I did not recognize the woman in my memories. I knew it was me, but the connection never fused.

I ignored how odd it was and continued toward the river. It must have been a phantom disturbance earlier in the night, too. At least, I had almost convinced myself of that before an unmissable jerk jolted me out of my thoughts. The bones of my ribcage fractured outward, tugged by an unseeable force. The sudden need to take in oxygen ruptured my strength. My feet couldn’t keep up. I stumbled, knocking me into a brick wall covered in various foliage.

It was painful. Unbelievably so. The impression debilitated me. Weakening me for a solid sixty seconds until I regained my footing. Maybe Vincent was right. I had been too high off our big win. I was old enough to know the consequences of skipping a feeding.

“Fuck,” I groaned.

Rubbing between my collarbones, I leaned my head back against the wall. I hadn’t experienced pain like that in centuries. Not since I’d been human. Not since my transformation.

It was a fabrication. A loose thread tying me to the witch that created me. She had fractured my ribs the same all those years ago. I couldn’t have actually caused such a break. It was all in my head.

My whirling tornado of thoughts shifted as something tickled my wrist. It traveled up my arm and cinched. There, clinging to me, were massive ivy vines covered in autumn-brown leaves.

I ripped my arm back and tore through the plant. Branches that peeped from the bricks made a high-pitched squeal as they retreated back into the cracks of the old wall. Ivy withered and turned a deathly gray. The leaves wilted, and the vine curled into the surrounding moss.

“Who’s there?” I shouted. “Show yourself!”

I scanned the area for any signs of unnatural movement. Witches filled Savannah. I knew a few myself. Though, none that I was familiar with controlled plants, it didn’t mean someone hadn’t picked up on a hex or two.

The street was empty. I could hear people laughing two blocks over as they walked together. There was a buzzing club life all the way over on River Street. I even zeroed in on a few people goofing around on the tennis courts in Forsyth Park.

The unsettled shakiness roared back to life when I couldn’t place any specific creature. There were few I knew that wanted to cause me harm.

“Magnus?” I whispered too low for a human to hear. Searching the roof tops, I stumbled off the curb into the middle of the street. “Magnus? Is that you?”

I waited for a response from the nightmare of my past. No one stepped out of the shadows. Cicada bugs sang from the hanging branches of the iconic Savannah trees. The sound taunted my senses. He’d only return for me if he knew he had the upper hand.

A human’s faint heartbeat locked into my ears as I looked up at the moon. I squinted. Something about the moon tonight eased the fear roping itself through me. I took a small step back and closed my eyes as a breeze gently blew through my hair.

Something in the stars had changed. I could smell the etching of something beyond a normal trip to Savannah with the team.

I needed to get back to the academy. There weren’t enough hours with the moon for me to make sense of all this. I couldn’t risk being in the sun with him on the prowl.

Some content on the website is uploaded by users. If it infringes on your rights, please contact us.