Girls of Might and Magic An Anthology By Diverse Books with Magic

people found out what I could do, I would be more of an outcast than I already was. People would be afraid of me. I had been conversing with a dead African queen for as long as I could remember and doing other things no one knew about. My brother always teased me when I was younger about my abilities. Jacob never believed I held conversations with the dead, until one day his teasing forced Queen Nyah to make her presence known to him. It was a day I would never forget, and neither had he. But the older I got, the more I pushed the cursed gift, as my mother liked to call it, to the side. Only on rare occasions had visions come to me without consulting with the ancestors like they did when I was younger. Sometimes it was indeed a gift, and one I was extremely grateful for. However, more times than not, it was a curse. I just wanted to be normal. I didn’t want to see the future, hear the whispers of the dead, or talk to deceased African queens. And I certainly didn’t want to be mated to someone I didn’t love, but all of those things were a part of my destiny. I had heard the stories of my parents, and those of my Auntie Amani— the Last White Witch—and my Uncle Alek—the Vampire King. However, I wasn’t ready for that type of commitment. I didn’t think I would ever be ready for the responsibility that came with my gift and finding the one fate had destined for me. I wanted to experience life before eternal love shackled me to a place and to someone I didn’t know, or saddled me with powers I wasn’t sure I wanted anymore. Taking my usual seat at the back of the room away from everyone, I waited for the lecture to begin. I wasn’t the outgoing one like my brother Jacob, who was now playing professional football, or my younger siblings, who were either doing dance recitals or playing some type of sport. I liked to be by myself. Away from everyone. “Is this seat taken?” the gruff voice asked. The timbre sent a shudder down my spine. Not the kind you wanted to run away from because of fear, but it made me aware of his presence. My eyes rose and widened in shock. First at his aura, which looked much like the ones that surrounded my stepfather and uncle. Vampire. Then, at his beauty—hair darker than the midnight sky, skin the hue of porcelain, and pale blue pools stared back at me with wonder, amusement, and interest. If I

wasn’t careful, I would lose myself in them, though the fact he didn’t talk to me hadn’t gone unnoticed. No one ever talked to me. I had heard the whispers around campus of what people thought of me. It was a small college, and everyone knew everyone. It just so happened that because of my stepfather and uncle’s fame, more unwanted attention was placed on me. As the campus recluse, most thought I was either an uppity rich girl— because I stayed to myself and talked to no one—or I was crazy. Regardless, if I was the uppity crazy recluse who was only seen on campus or the local library, once anyone found out who my family was, the outstretched hands followed. That was why I preferred to remain alone. Nobody wanted to get to know who I was, they only wanted what I could provide for them. Unable to speak due to a mild case of shock, I just shook my head and removed my bag from the unoccupied seat so he could sit. God, he smells divine. With a gorgeous smile, the handsome stranger mumbled his thanks, which I didn’t respond to. I pushed my curiosity about the man to the side and focused my attention on the professor, who droned on and on about the history of Vodou in the United States while trying to fight the crazy feeling bubbling in my stomach because of the man sitting next to me. Who is he? “Mama, I haven’t decided what I’m doing yet.” I tried my best not to roll my eyes as I made my way across campus. “I’ve got a few more days before I have to be out of the dorm. When I decide, you will be the first to know what my plans are.” “But, sweetheart, what is there to decide? You need to come home. We miss you. Me, Christoff, and the twins haven’t seen you in months.” This was always her go-to method: to make me feel guilty about not coming home enough. But I didn’t want to return home. At least not right now. I tucked my messenger bag against my body and walked hastily through the campus courtyard, which was now virtually a ghost town due to

Christmas break. Snow lightly fell, and the wind had picked up, swirling small clouds of fine white powder in the air. All I wanted to do was make it back to my dorm room before the weather took a turn for the worse. When I went away for college, I decided to leave Georgia and try a college up North, far away from my family. I loved them, but I also didn’t like the attention they garnered. I thought if I went away, maybe I could escape the fame, but I was sadly mistaken. No matter where I went, my family’s reputation followed. “I miss you guys too, Mama, but I’m not sure what I want to do yet. Please don’t try to guilt me into coming home.” My mom gasped in her usual dramatic flair, causing me to laugh—a sound not too many people would hear outside my immediate family. I could see her clutching her chest in mock offense. “Nari!” “What Mama? It’s the truth.” I chuckled. “I love you, but I have to decide what I want to do on my own. That’s what grown-ups do. No offense.” I understood my mom’s protective nature. Although it wasn’t wanted or warranted, it was habit. Until she met my stepfather, my mom had been in an abusive relationship with my biological father—the now dearly departed tyrant Dalton Lewis, a police detective. My brother and I were always her number one priority, and although we were both adults now, she still felt the need to protect us. “Okay.” She sighed deeply. “I just want my daughter close. I worry about you, Nari. I know you like to be alone, and believe me, I get it. But you are still a young woman, and you are on your own in a big city.” It was the same speech she’d been giving me since she found out I could talk to my dead relative, Queen Nyah. She’d worried because I had shut myself away from everyone, because of our gift. Our visions. We talked to our ancestors, but I had been able to do much more. And I had been able to keep that knowledge away from everyone, including her. But if I came home, it wouldn’t remain a secret much longer. My telepathy would make an appearance. That ability was getting stronger and stronger, and harder to control the older I got. I wonder why? “Don’t worry. I’m fine. It’s starting to snow hard, so I’m going to let you go. I love you.”

“I love you too, baby. Be careful.” “Always.” I ended the call and put my smartphone inside my messenger bag, letting out a huge sigh of relief. I loved my mother, but the constant talk of wanting me to come home was mentally draining. With my head down, I made my way across campus to the dorms as quickly as I could, until I struck something akin to a brick wall. I braced myself to hit the sidewalk when strong arms wrapped around my frame. Oh my God, it’s him. I knew it was him before he even spoke. The colorless waves emanating from his body were more prevalent than before. There was something about his smell and the way he made my heart race. It drew me in. I inhaled deeply, letting it coat the inside of my nostrils and fill me with an unknown excitement. “I’ve got you, beautiful.” With my hands against his broad chest, I righted myself, and a flash forced its way through my mind. I was sitting at a small table across from the stranger, at a coffee shop. We both were laughing while the snow accumulated onto the sidewalk and road outside. The stranger reached his hand across the table and gripped mine, giving me a megawatt smile—a smile I couldn’t help but return. We looked so happy. I truly looked happy. Were those his thoughts or a vision? The man’s voice pierced the fog of my mind and the image faded away. “I’m sorry, what did you say?” The stranger’s alabaster skin was tinted red from the temperature drop. His dark, tousled hair had bits of snow in it, and his eyes glazed with amusement. “I asked if you were all right.” Startled at our closeness, I moved away from him, rubbing my hands nervously against my clothing. I quickly composed myself, ignoring my anxiety due to his presence. “Um … yes, I’m fine. I’m sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going. But thanks for catching me.” “Always, beautiful. See you around Nari,” the stranger said. My eyes widened in shock at the compliment. I had been told on multiple occasions I was beautiful, but him saying it caused flutters in my stomach and an unexplained comfort to encompass me.

He walked past me, looked over his shoulder, and winked, then continued on his way as if nothing happened. Wait … how does he know my name? Who is this guy? Most people knew who I was, whether I knew them or not, so I shook off the concern of him knowing my name and continued to make my way to my dorm. The thoughts about what I would do in a couple of days also faded until they were replaced with an image of the handsome stranger and us together … happily. Through my mother’s tears, and Christoff consoling her, I made the decision not to go home … at least not yet. So, with the help of my parents, I rented a studio apartment not too far from campus, and not too far from my job at the local library. It was perfect. With the rest of my belongings finally in their proper places, I surveyed the tiny studio loft apartment and squealed, jumping up and down in excitement. This was my first time living on my own, and I was thrilled. The tiny space wasn’t what my parents wanted to provide for me, but it was the only place I would accept. The neighborhood was safe, the security was decent, and it was big enough for me. I climbed the metal spiral staircase to the loft area and plopped down on my bed. Relaxation was all I had on my mind. School was out, and I had the day off from work, so all I wanted to do was get some sleep. I closed my eyes and drifted off. “It’s been a while, my daughter.” I couldn’t help the smile that crossed my face, although I was confused as to why I was here since I hadn’t asked to come. I hadn’t visited Queen Nyah in a long time in my attempts to be normal, but I couldn’t deny the fact I missed her dearly. She had been my only true friend. I embraced her, rocking from side to side, and she chuckled. The sound of her voice settled over me with a sense of peace. “You do know you can contact me anytime you like, child? All you have to do is call, and I will come.” “I know. I just really missed you.”

“And I’ve missed you. Let’s walk and you tell me how everything is going.” I had been to this place many times in my youth. The Kingdom of Punt. Over time, I had gotten used to the smoke-filled skies and charred ruins of the once-vibrant kingdom. I had learned to block out the screams and wails of my ancestors as they relived that terrible day over and over again. It was sad listening to them plead for help—help that would never come. There was nothing I could do to change the past. The dense black smoke that hung heavy over the village didn’t harm my eyes or lungs. The once-immaculate buildings laid in burned piles of destruction. The only remaining structure was the fire pit where the Great Fire still burned brightly. It was a sign that the bloodline of Queen Nyah and King Kamau of Punt was still alive and strong. The scenery always caused sadness to lurk in the Queen’s eyes, but I never asked about that time. Although, I didn’t have to. I had already seen the visions of death and destruction that came to the kingdom. Her only daughter, Princess Ama, had survived to carry on the royal bloodline, which now ran through my veins. “Everything has been fine,” I lied. “There is no need not to tell the truth, Nari.” She gave me a pointed look. “I know.” She was right. She already knew the answer before she asked the question, though she wanted to hear it from me. “I want to be normal.” I sighed deeply. “I want to live a normal life like young women my age. Travel the world after graduation, get a decent job, then maybe find someone to love and start a life with. I want to live life my way, not what has been laid out for me by the ancestors.” “But you, dear Nari, are not like other young women.” She stopped walking and turned to me. We now stood in front of the Great Fire in the courtyard that sat in the center of her home. She patted the top of my hand and gave me a smile filled with warmth and love. “You are royalty, my dear child, blessed by and descended from the Goddess Isis. You descend from one of the most powerful Kandakes to ever exist—my mother, Arjana. Knowledge of what is to come swims in your veins. The power of the Kandakes of Kush drapes your skin like the finest fabrics. You were made for greatness, Nari, not to be normal.”

“But what if I’m not cut out to do this, Queen Nyah? I’m not like my mother. I’m not as strong as her, or Auntie Amani.” Her laugh echoed through the stillness. “You are not like them, my child, and you are not supposed to be. But you will be ready for whatever is to come. You are of my blood. I do not doubt your ability to handle your destiny.” She tilted her head and gazed at me for a few minutes. I knew what she was doing. She was like me and my mother. A Seer. All the Daughters of Meroë descended from the Goddess Isis, but our bloodline was that of the Seer. We saw visions of the past, present, and future. “He has made his appearance.” I scrunched my brow in confusion. I had no idea who “he” was. “Who?” “Your mate,” she said, smiling. “It is time.” I looked at Queen Nyah, tilting my head to the side. “It’s time for what?” “It is time to walk into your full power, including your telepathy.” I gasped, my hand flying to my chest and my eyes widening in shock. I should have known she knew, but she had never said anything. Her smile broadened. “It is time to accept what Fate has destined, to accept the power within you.” When she raised her hand in the air, her eyes shifted to a beautiful shade of red. Images appeared before me, flickering in and out like an old black and white movie with each swipe of the Queen’s hand. My future. Our future. When the images faded, I stood in amazement. My small hand ran down my face. She smiled and beamed as if she were a proud mother. “Nari, it’s time for you to take your life into your own hands. There’s no need to be scared, no need to try to be something you are not. The future is bright, my child, and you will have all that you desire, but only if you walk into what has been destined for you with who has been fated to you.” I shook my head. “I’m not ready.” Her smile brightened. “Then I suggest you get ready, my child, because your mate is a force to be reckoned with. And I don’t see him taking no for an answer. It is time.” My eyes shot open, and I gulped down the fear clawing my throat. I was not ready for the massive change that was about to happen in my life. Although the images played out in front of me, I was unable to see my

mate. The images always showed him from behind. But according to Queen Nyah, I knew who he was. Could it be the mysterious stranger? Is that why my heart races, my stomach flutters, and why he smells so delicious? Thinking back on the stories from my mother and the mysterious stranger, the feelings I experienced coincided with what she explained to me. However, I had so much more to do before I got entangled with him. Knocking on the door pulled me from my swirling thoughts. I took the hair-tie from my wrist, putting my hair in a ponytail at the nape of my neck before making my way down the stairs to the front door. I was surprised that anyone would be visiting me. No one knew me in this new building. When I made it to the door and looked through the peephole, my hand went to my chest and I released a gasp. “What are you doing here?” I asked through the closed door. “How did you find me?” “I will always know where you are,” he said, his tone calm. Although I should be freaking out, his tranquil voice assuaged any fear I should have. “Who are you, and why are you here?” “My name is Artem Azarov, and I’m your mate.” “I don’t have a mate.” His deep chuckle covered my skin and settled in my bones. A shudder made its way down my spine. I placed my palm against the door to keep my balance. “If that’s what you choose to believe, my beautiful mate, but I don’t take no for an answer. I’ve stayed away from you long enough. I’ll meet you tomorrow at the coffee shop across from the library at 2:00 p.m. so we can talk.” “I’m not meeting you anywhere. I don’t know you.” “If you want to know who I am, ask your stepfather. I will see you tomorrow, Nari,” he said. “Don’t be late.” When I heard his retreating footsteps, I checked the peephole. He was gone. I turned on my heels and grabbed my phone from the living room table, then plopped down on the couch. I scrolled through the contacts until I reached my stepfather’s number. “Nari … is everything all right?” he asked, his voice filled with panic. I smiled through my nervousness. Anytime I called him, he was on high alert. How do I approach this conversation? “Um … do you know anyone

by the name Artem Azarov?” “I do,” he answered, the panic in his voice replaced with its usual hardness. “Why?” “Well, I met him today, and he said that you knew who he was. I wanted to make sure he wasn’t befriending me because of who you or Uncle Alek are.” “And what did he say?” I pinched the bridge of my nose. Did I want to have this discussion with my stepfather before my mom? Although Christoff wasn’t my biological father, I considered him my dad. He had been there since my parents’ divorce and was more of a father to me than Dalton Lewis had ever been. “He says I’m his mate.” There was silence on the other end. I didn’t know if he was upset or in shock. His sigh echoed over the receiver. “The Azarov’s are a very wellknown family. Artem’s father is the leader of their coven. Artem is a good kid. A little cocky, but good. If Fate has destined the two of you, Nari, it is meant to be.” “That’s what I hear.” I sighed. “Stop running from who you are and embrace it. You are a strong, independent woman. Together, with your mate, you are unstoppable.” “I hear ya. I love you, Dad.” “I love you too. Call your mother.” “I will.” I laughed and ended the call. My mother would have to wait until tomorrow, though I was sure he’d tell her, and she’d probably call me first. I laid my head against the back of the couch, my conversation with Queen Nyah echoing in my mind. I could have everything I wanted, but only if I walked in my destiny and accepted Artem. There was no doubt I was attracted to him. I’d just have to see where it went. If we were meant to be, there was no point in fighting it. I sat face to face with Artem Azarov. Christoff had not been lying when he said the man was cocky, but he was also very funny and intelligent. We had been getting to know one another for the past few hours, and it was amazing. I could feel something between us. It was strong and pure, and

getting stronger by the minute. There was no way I could deny who we were to one another. After a long night of wrestling with my inherent need to run away from my life or accept it, I decided to take what Fate had destined for me so I could have the kind of life I desired. I wanted to travel the world like those girls in the books I read, but I realized I didn’t have to change who I was to do all those things. I could do them still, and with Artem. As a Daughter of Meroë, my purpose was to live life to the fullest while accepting the cursed gift of my ancestors. I understood possessing such a gift would lead to trials, but the longer I sat with Artem—and as we got to know one another—the more I understood that with the gifts I carried, I needed my mate by my side to handle what would come my way. We could face anything together. As a Seer and a telepath, I would be able to do tremendous things, not only for those who sought help, but for myself too. With him by my side, the world was ours to conquer … together. He reached across the table and grasped my hand, and I couldn’t help the smile that crossed my face when his widened. “I’m so glad I’ve finally found you,” he said. “My life was so incomplete until I saw you that day in the library. It took me a long time to gain the courage to sit beside you in class.” His confession took my breath away. I made my way through his thoughts and was overwhelmed by his emotions. Everything he said had been the truth. An image of us together holding hands and walking on the beach at sunset flickered in my mind. Then the image switched to Artem and me sitting with my family, both of us wearing huge smiles. For all the time I spent fighting who I was, my true power had laid within me. I would never be normal, and I was okay with that. I was so much more than normal. I descended from and was blessed by the Goddess Isis. My bloodline was royal—that of the Kandakes of Kush—and I was a Daughter of Meroë. No, I wasn’t normal, and I didn’t want to be. I was a Seer, a telepath, and I was destined for greatness.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR My name is Courtney Dean. I’m a wife and mother from North Carolina. I write interracial and multicultural dark romance. I have a masters in history and when I’m not writing or reading, I research African-American and Native American family history during Reconstruction. Find me online at www.courtneydean.com.

“So long as you fight the darkness, you stand in the light.” ― Sabaa Tahir, A Torch Against the Night

15

“W MEMORIES OF MAGIC Ashley Ford ake up.” That gentle voice pierced the heavy layer of fog that clutched my consciousness. The familiar tone ignited a warm spark of light in my chest. It eased the aching hole in my middle that had hollowed me for the past six months. It was an absence caused by a crippling loss I couldn’t come to terms with. The feather-light graze across my left cheek drew tears even under my closed lids. I’d know those knuckles anywhere. Forcing past the throbbing pain in my skull, I opened my eyes to the smiling face leaning over me. “Grandma?” “Hey, darlin’.” In an instant, my heart was made whole and yet somehow also shattered all over again. It had been six months since I’d laid eyes on her. Six months since we’d spoken. Six months since she’d died. 12 hours earlier…

I should have followed my gut and ignored the phone, but Chanel had been trying to reach me for weeks. I couldn’t keep ducking her or I’d end up losing my best friend. “You gotta come tonight,” was her rushed opening statement the second I answered. “Cee,” I groaned, rolling my eyes. “I don’t wanna hear no excuses, Fia. You need to get out of the house.” We both knew she was right, but I stubbornly held my tongue. “You still there?” she asked softly. My throat burned, matching the sting in my eyes. I couldn’t face people. Not yet. They asked the same questions and gave empty, disingenuous responses but deep down they only wanted to hear that you’re okay. That death hasn’t left you bitter and faithless, seeking solace nightly at the bottom of a bottle. I’d found expressing that hard truth often left people uncomfortable and speechless around me. Oh well. “It’ll just be us,” she said quietly, like she could feel my agony through the phone and knew one harsh word could possibly break me. “I’ll think about it,” I whispered, lying through my teeth. Chanel had caught me in a weak moment or I wouldn’t have answered at all. Passed out from a bottle of Jack, sprawled across an unmade bed, I’d stared at the phone through blurred vision several seconds before accepting the call. “We miss you so much,” she pressed on. “Please come. You can’t keep cutting yourself off. It’s not healthy and it’s not what she would want—” “Gotta go, Chanel.” Hanging up before she could say more, I rubbed my right fist into the center of my chest, a futile attempt to ease the ache. I sat up, intent on seeking out the rest of that Jack Daniels. Working as a bartender wasn’t making me rich, but it afforded me a two-bedroom townhouse to lay my head. As a bonus,, the manager hadn’t noticed my drinking on the job or the bottles I kept stealing, at least not yet. Skipping a much-needed meal, I opted instead for liquid sustenance, a bottle of Wild Turkey. I moved from the bedroom to the living room, not bothering to turn on the tv. My manager, Brad, had given me a week off, well, more like told me to take a week to get my shit together or I’d be fired. Same difference. Kicked back on my tan sectional, I lifted the glass container, watching the liquid slosh inside like gold. My own personal sunshine. Too bad it only dragged me farther into

darkness instead of out of it. I needed the numbness, needed to not care anymore. Through hazy vision, I lazily lifted my free hand, making patterns in the air. As my eyes drifted closed, sparks of light seemed to shoot from my fingertips, the pretty colors lulling me into a deep, dreamless sleep. Banging on my door startled me awake. Groaning, I ran my tongue over grimy feeling teeth and grimaced. A second round of rapid-fire knocking had me stumbling for the front of my apartment, banging my foot on the end table next to the couch for my trouble. “Ow, dammit! Coming! Hold on!” I bellowed as sharp radiated in my foot. The string of curses poised on my lips stopped short of launching when I swung open the door to a grinning Chanel. My death glare had no effect on her sunny disposition. Pushing oversized square sunglasses to sit atop her pink buzz cut, she smiled, a dimple appearing in her right cheek. The light blue tank and teeny shorts she wore popped against her rich, dark skin. “Hey boo.” “What the hell are you doin’?” I growled, pushing my bangs out of my eyes. She smacked her lips, leaning her slender body against my door frame while propping a hand on her hip.“I’m not lettin’ you get out of tonight.” Huffing, I stomped back into the sanctuary of my dark residence, shoving the door but Chanel barged in behind me. She was nothing if not relentless. Her face told me what I already knew. My house was a mess. I hadn’t cleaned a thing in weeks, hence my drinking out of bottles instead of cups. As I plopped down on the couch, searching for the rest of my Wild Turkey, Chanel went around throwing open curtains. Even though the sun was setting, I still winced from the exposure before turning up my whiskey. Chanel didn’t miss a beat, strolling past to snatch away my prize before I could move out of arm’s reach. “Hey!” “What are you gonna wear tonight?” she asked, tossing the bottle into my kitchen sink. “Not going.” I hung my head, the blunt edges of my bob tickling my jawline. Undaunted, Chanel went into the bedroom and soon I heard rattling in the closet. She had always been this way, from the time we met, never taking no for an answer. Resisting was futile.

“Oh, stop poutin’,” Chanel fussed at me for the hundredth time. I had been sulking in her passenger seat for the twenty-minute ride to our destination, the home of a mutual friend named Trinity. Chanel and I had known each other since freshman year of high school, while Chanel had met Trinity at college two years ago. At least she made it there, unlike me, I had no interest in that kind of knowledge. Trinity’s boyfriend, Demarcus, was now a junior at the same university. We’d all hung out before. They were cool people and had just moved into a place together off campus. I hadn’t seen their new place yet. “Trinity was so happy when I told her you were comin’,” Chanel gushed, parking in front of the dark blue ranch with a small flower bed in the yard and an extensive driveway. A driveway that I noticed was full of cars at the moment. “You said just us,” I grimly reminded Chanel when she reached for the door. Her sheepish grin grated my already frayed nerves and I gritted my teeth. A slight crack erupted in the windshield’s upper right corner, making us both flinch. “Really? What in the world?” Chanel cried while I closed my eyes, breathing deeply. Easy, Fia. Smacking her teeth at the damage, Chanel sighed and turned to me. “Will you try to relax tonight and have some fun, for me? Please?” she begged, giving me her best smile. What the hell? I had come this far. Vowing to get her back, I sullenly trailed Chanel up to the house. I did my best not to pull at the black miniskirt and tight plum colored v neck tshirt she had dressed me in. At least I was able to wear my combat boots. Once inside, I hugged the door, trying my best to be invisible. “Hey guys! Look who’s here!” There went that plan. “Fiaaaaa!” Trinity screeched at an ear shattering decibel, pulling me into a suffocating embrace. “It’s so good to see you, hun!” My tight smile was met with confused gray eyes when I discreetly shrugged out of her hug. Trinity cleared her throat, her fair face turning slightly red while she smoothed the slick edges of her high curly puff to do something with her hands. “Uh, Demarcus, look. Fia’s here,” she said, waving her partner over.

He broke into a wide grin when he saw me. He was Trinity’s total opposite, tall, dark, and handsome, with long dreads. “Wassup, girl!” He tapped my shoulder with a fist, rocking me back with his unrealized strength. It almost drew a smile from me. Some things never changed. Trinity linked her arm through mine, coaxing me toward the kitchen on the other side of the room. A few people shot curious glances in my direction but most paid me no mind. She released me at the white and black marbled island in the kitchen, which was full of multi-colored, multi-shaped bottles of liquor. Demarcus poured vodka into two red cups, handing one to me and the other to Trinity. “So, where you been hidin’?” he asked, his girl leaning affectionately over on his back to smile at me. “Around,” I said, taking a sip. “Hey, I was sorry to hear about your—” “Yeah, thanks.” Taking another gulp, I spun around, pretending to take in the crowd, while really, I was fighting back tears. The mere thought of her nearly reduced me to a crying mess. It was too soon. I shouldn’t have come. Taking in more liquid courage, I turned back to the kissing couple with a brave face. “So, how have you guys been?” I asked. My half-assed attempt at small talk was taken in stride, the two coming up for air long enough to answer. Trinity rambled on and on about wanting to leave school and start her own business. She had always been a bit of a dreamer, a creative. Demarcus, no doubt having heard this again and again, still listened attentively to his girl. She really had found herself a good one. “Shots!” a female voice called from behind me. Chanel stumbled into the kitchen, interrupting Trinity’s spiel about her clothing line website and bumping into me, hard. How did she get tipsy so fast? Demarcus obliged, pouring four tall shots of Grey Goose. We quickly clinked and slammed the drinks, Trinity and Chanel sporting winces. I’d had so much of the stuff lately it was like drinking water. Then Chanel was gone again, lost in the crowd with a ‘whoop’. “C’mon, I wanna introduce you to some folks,” Demarcus offered.

The other fifteen people at the party congregated in the living room. After an awkward hello, I took a seat on the baby blue sofa with a comfortable view of everything and everyone. Demarcus’ friends were funny, captivating us all with tales from their childhood. They got in a lot of trouble back in the day apparently. The hours flew by and the drinks flowed. The crowd thinned until the only ones remaining were myself, Demarcus, Trinity, Chanel and three others. Two were pals of Demarcus; Trent and Bo and the other, Trinity’s close friend, Lace. She was a pretty Latina, kind of quiet. Bo seemed overly interested in me, asking questions, trying to pull me into conversation, even flirting a little. He was cute enough, maybe Native American background, but men were the last thing on my mind. We all ended up sitting on the floor in a circle, drinking, talking, and laughing. I had to admit I was enjoying myself despite my initial reluctance at coming. “Let’s play a game,” Trinity blurted out of the blue. “What kinda game?” Demarcus asked, putting an arm around her shoulders. She struggled to her feet, giving a drunken squeal when he grabbed at her butt, then hurried from the room, returning with something hidden behind her back. When she revealed a Ouija board, a collective groan went through the group, save me. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up instead. “Where did you get that?” Demarcus demanded, snatching it from her hands to look it over. She gave a slight lift of her shoulder. “At a thrift store. I thought it would be, I dunno, fun.” “Those things are not toys,” I said sternly, drawing all eyes. “Chill, Fia,” Chanel said, but I wasn’t about to hold my tongue, not on this. “No, that thing is not a game.” Bo placed a reassuring hand on my shoulder. “My cousin had one. They’re harmless.” Trent scoffed. “Don’t tell me you believe in that stuff?” I liked him the least of everyone. He was arrogant, always cutting others off just to hear himself talk. He was attractive on the outside, high cheekbones and green eyes but I could see the ugly inside. At his question, my thoughts went to her, to the years of what she’d shown me of this world and the one beyond it. The memory hurt too much to the point I couldn’t answer.

“Alright, then. No big deal,” Trent said with a shrug, taking the box from Demarcus and opening it. Chanel crawled over to sit beside me, forehead crinkled with a frown. “You sure you’re ok with this?” she asked in a hushed voice. I wasn’t, but I couldn’t leave them alone with something that could potentially be dangerous.“Yeah, sure,” I lied. Trent placed the board in the middle of the circle they had formed on the glossy, hardwood floor as Trinity held the planchette. She set the piece atop the board, along with two fingers, instructing the others to do the same. Once they did, it was realized I hadn’t moved and all heads gradually turned in my direction. Trinity gave me a patient look. “Come on, Fia. It’s just a game,” she said quietly. Rolling my eyes, I scooted forward, Chanel to my left, Bo to my right. I slowly added my first and second digit to the planchette, thinking how bad this could go. Trinity took the lead, moving the object in circles on the board to match the number of us playing. “Someone has to ask a question,” Trent said. “Am I gettin’ some tonight?” Demarcus called out. His friends thought that was hilarious but Trinity shushed them. Clearing her throat, she closed her eyes, tilting her head back.“Are there any spirits here that would like to communicate?” Her question was met with utter stillness. “This is lame,” Trent mumbled, making all the guys chuckle. “Alright, concentrate or this won’t work,” Trinity ordered, eyes still closed.“Spirit, speak to us,” she implored. My right eye twitched and a warming sensation swept up my right arm from the planchette. No one else seemed to feel it but someone or something was listening alright. The planchette jerked to the left an inch, making Trinity gasp. “Demarcus, don’t play with me!” she scolded. “Babe, it wasn’t me.” “Are y’all messing with us?” Chanel cried. “I don’t like this,” Lace said, starting to retract her hand. “No! Don’t!” I warned. “Do not break the circle.” Trent wiggled his free hand in the air. “Oooh,” Trent mocked in a spooky voice. I cut my eyes at him. He was being really disrespectful. “I’m

serious. You mess with stuff like this, you have to be respectful and follow the rules.” “I’m so scared,” he mewled and I flipped him off with my free hand, which only made him laugh. “Spirits are real and when you insist on messing around with them, you better hope one of them reaches out and not something else,” I continued. “Is that so?” Trent questioned me sarcastically and the planchette shot to the yes in the board’s upper left corner. A quick glance around the circle showed me fear and uncertainty, confirming what I already knew. No one had moved it. “Who—who is this?” Trinity asked, voice trembling. The triangle began to move again spelling out F-R-I-E-N-D. Unlikely. “What’s your name?” I questioned but after several moments, there was no answer. “Can we ask it stuff about the future?” Trinity whispered. “I wouldn’t.” She paid me no mind.“Will my clothing line be successful?” The answer was YES. “Is dropping out of college to start it the right decision?” Again, the answer was YES. She smiled at that. “Will Demarcus and I still be together then?” This time the planchette slid to the far right. NO. Giving a sound of distress, she looked to her beau with a frown. Demarcus gave her a reassuring smile. “It’s just a game, babe.” I sighed, pissed that she kept ignoring me. “Trinity, don’t ask anything else,” I warned but she was already speaking. She looked back at the board, her brows knitted together in worry. “Why not? Where will he be?” she demanded. The planchette moved. D-E-A-D “What the hell man?” Demarcus shouted, making a move to stand. “Demarcus, don’t!” I barked. His face twisted in rage. “This is bullshit! Who’s doing this? Fia, is this you?” he yelled back. “What? No!”

His accusation stung but I pushed past it. We were in danger and they had no idea. I had to stop them before this went any farther.“Let’s just…end this now, ok?” Demarcus lifted his upper lip in a snarl. “No,” Demarcus said, pissed. “What about Fia’s future?” The planchette spelled D-E-A-D. A chill ran up my spine but I fought the fear this thing was trying to provoke. “Lace?” Demarcus asked. Same. D-E-A-D. He went down the list, naming everyone in the circle. Again and again the board spelled the same, announcing our end. Lace looked around at us with panicked eyes. “Not funny,” she whimpered. “I’m done with this,” Trent snarled, removing his hand. Lace and Chanel followed suit, making me curse under my breath. “You shouldn’t have done that,” I sighed. Suddenly the room filled with pressure, the air becoming thick. It became hard to breathe and a ball of dread formed in my stomach. “W-what’s happening?” Trinity asked, leaning into Demarcus. I stood, the others following me. An unearthly wail began and rose in volume around us. “What is that?” Lace cried, covering her ears. The gravelly voice swirled around the room, growing to a screech akin to nails on a chalkboard. “Something crossed over,” I yelled to be heard. The curio cabinet in the corner full of elephant figurines that Trinity collected, exploded sending glass flying. The massive 60-inch TV Demarcus had proudly pointed out to me earlier split down its middle. From the kitchen, we heard what could only be liquor bottles cracking and breaking one by one. “Stop! Stop! Stop!” Lace screamed and the noise ceased. Chanel grabbed my arm. “Fia, what do you mean, something crossed over?” Chanel asked me fearfully. “We broke contact early. Whatever we were speaking to, I think it’s here now.” “For what?” “To make good on its promise, Chanel.” “How do you know all this?” Bo asked me. “My grandma,” I said quietly.

Trent grabbed my shoulders in a painful grip.“Cut it out! You’re scaring the girls!” His expression said they weren’t the only ones afraid. Trinity had a gorgeous fireplace in the living room, a mantle filled with pictures of family and friends. One by one, they tilted over like dominos then toppled to the floor, glass skittering everywhere. “How are you doing this?” Trent asked, shaking me hard. I’d had enough. I gut punched him and he let me go, coughing for air.“It’s not me. We need to close the doorway.” I searched for the board that was now somehow missing. Trent straightened and glared at me but kept his distance. Trinity raised her hands in surrender. “I am not touching that thing again,” she shrieked. I glared at her. It was too late now. “You don’t have a choice.” The others spread out, looking for the missing board. Overhead, the lights flickered, making everyone pause. “Keep looking,” I ordered. Suddenly the lights went out and we were plunged into darkness, the girls screaming at the top of their lungs. “Please!” I snapped, needing quiet to think. I shivered a bit, the feeling of being watched overtaking me. Following the sensation, my gaze met a pair of burning crimson eyes in the room’s far corner. Terror crawled up my spine but so did an anger as red as those eyes. No one else had seen it, yet. The more I stared, the more its shape materialized. It was tall, at least seven feet, curled pointy horns that reached for the ceiling. Razor sharp claws at ends of arms that beckoned, taunted. I lifted an eyebrow in response, showing it didn’t scare me. An inhale to my rear told me the figure had been spotted and I could practically feel the panic radiating off Chanel, which was exactly what the bastard wanted. “Don’t scream,” I said under my breath, intertwining my fingers with hers. Her grip nearly cut off my circulation. The room was silent except for the sounds of searching behind us. “W—what is it?” she breathed in a shaky voice. “The thing from the board.” “It looks like—a monster,” she gasped with a shudder. “It is.”

The demon nodded in acknowledgement, making me scowl. I would not let it hurt my friends. “I’ve got it!” Lace declared. At that same time, the lights came back on. The demon was gone. I pointed to the floor. “Ok, put it down. Everybody gather around like before,” I instructed, but as they came to me, the glass on the floor lifted into the air. It slowly started to swirl, encircling and trapping us close together. The jagged shards suddenly darted inward. Everyone ducked and covered, the sharp fragments biting into our arms and backs. The instinct to cast rose in me but quickly soured in my throat. I had sworn never to do magic again. It was too painful because it reminded me of her. Magic had let the most important thing to me slip away, no spell I tried after she was gone strong enough to bring her back. It abandoned me so I had done the same. The glass pieces tinkled to the floor, damage done. Trinity had been the obvious focus of the attack, her black t-shirt shredded with blood seeping through the tears. “Damn, babe,” Demarcus hissed, gently touching the tiny cuts on her cheeks and forehead. Her bottom lip quivered but she held it together. Brave girl. It was no accident. The entity was targeting her. We had to finish this before it had another chance to hurt her. “It’s trying to stop us. Everyone come on, we have to get in a circle and touch the board again.” They slowly got into formation, kneeling on the floor when Trinity looked up suddenly and screamed. The demon loomed over her and I leapt without a second thought, the blow meant for her knocking me across the room. My head slammed into the wall, my body falling to the floor, all to the soundtrack of Chanel screaming my name. My skull was ringing, limbs refusing to move, and I slipped under. I could smell her, the familiar scent of White Diamonds perfume, sage, and candles. It was… home. “Wake up,” came a familiar voice, although I could not see. “Grandma?” It was hard to focus with the brutal pain lancing through my temples. “Gotta get up, dear darlin’.”

Strong hands helped me to a seated position, my stomach lurching in protest. Swallowing hard, I opened my eyes to focus on her face. “Are you really…here?” “Oh, I’ve been here. You just weren’t ready to see me, that’s all.” It hurt to see her but I couldn’t tear my gaze away. Her soft wrinkled face. I’d memorized every line. “Grandma… I feel so lost without you.” She waved a dismissive hand.“Nah, girl. You’re not lost. You know who you are. Didn’t I teach you that?” I nodded, hot tears pouring down my cheeks.“But it hurts so much. It hurts to even… breathe with you gone.” She rubbed my hair with a smile that crinkled the skin around her eyes. My favorite smile.“Nobody said life was painless, dear doll. We lose people and yes, it hurts but we learn to live with it.” “I don’t wanna live with it.” I sobbed. “Don’t say that. Everyone comes to an end. I’m no better than anyone else walkin’ this Earth. You keep me alive by livin’ and by using this gift we have in common, our magic.” She placed a hand over my heart.“You keep me alive, in here.” I put a hand over hers. “You’re strong, girl. You’ll be fine. I know it.” “You made me strong. Everything I am, is because of you,” I told her with a sniffle. I could feel our time was coming to an end. “I love you, grandma,” I said as steadily as I could manage to show her that I would be ok, that she could go and rest in peace. She’d earned it. “Love, love, darlin’,” she responded, wrapping me in a tight hug. It was something she had started saying years ago instead of “I love you.” The endearment made me smile through the tears blurring her image. “Time to go,” she said, her voice echoing and her form replaced with darkness. I came to, hearing screams that only made my headache worse. “Fia, wake up! Please!”Chanel was shouting my name. I shook my head and looked across the room to see the demon choking Trinity. Her feet dangled, hands clawing at the beast’s thick wrists. With its free hand, it swept Demarcus and the others away, unaffected by their attempts to get Trinity out of its grip. I shoved to my feet. “Leave them alone.”

Calling on my magic, even after so long, was second nature. The power swelled, filling me with warmth and memories of the woman who had taught me so much. My tone had been low but the entity heard me, nonetheless. Glass crunched under the demon’s hooved feet when it swung in my direction, slinging Trinity like a rag doll. The distraction I caused gave Demarcus an opening to tackle his girlfriend, knocking her free and both of them to the floor. I flung my arm, using my magic to shove the demon back but it vanished in mid-air. Taking advantage, I rushed to the others.“We have to close the circle now!” “How did you do that?” Chanel asked. “No time to explain! Everyone, come on!” I guided us as we circled the board seven times, reopening the doorway. A roar erupted, shaking the entire room. It appeared again, reaching a claw for Trinity but I traced an intricate pattern in the air with my left hand, creating an invisible barrier. The demon snarled at me, enraged, bouncing off it. I needed its name to send it back and it wasn’t going to give it willingly. I shut out the others screaming around me for a moment to close my eyes, casting a revealing spell my grandma had taught me long ago. In the board’s center, words began to form in thick puffy letters. A-B-A-D-O-N. I had the bastard. Sneering, I lifted my head. “I know your name, demon! Abadon, I command you back to the hell you came from!” I shouted. It pounded fists against my barrier, fighting with all it had to remain. Calling upon my ancestors for strength, as my grandma had showed me, I chanted under my breath at a rapid speed, pushing all of my magic behind it. Giving one last wrathful bellow, the beast vanished, the board shaking wildly under our hands. We quickly circled seven times to close it, leaving the planchette on goodbye, and all went quiet. With a huge exhale, I sat back on my butt, drained. Boy, I was out of practice. The group hesitantly removed their hands from the board too and we shared a look but no one spoke. “We should get rid of that damn thing,” Demarcus finally said. With a snap of my fingers, I set the Ouija board on fire, flames flaring before lowering to a crackling simmer, reducing the “game” to ashes.

Trent leaned back, eyes wide. “How’d you do that? How’d you know how to save us?” I smiled before responding.“Someone had to remind me of who I am.” Chanel gripped my hand tightly.“Are you ok?” Taking a deep breath, I smiled at her.“You know, I think I will be.”

ABOUT THE AUTHOR Ashley Ford was born and raised in the small town of Thomasville, Georgia. Early on, she developed a love of books, which was nurtured by readings from her mother and her beloved Teddy Ruxpin. Later in life, her interests progressed to writing books, her stories inspired by a love of horror and the supernatural. A socially awkward introvert and proud cat lover, she creates characters bolder than she could ever be. She writes paranormal romance currently with hopes of venturing into horror soon. Her current works include The Steele Trilogy, The Lost and Found Duology, and stand-alone Concealed Moon. Ashley resides near Atlanta, GA with her husband, son, tuxedo cat, and mixed boxer pup. In her free time, she collects crystals, reads, and binge-watches scary movies. You can find all her works at https://amazon.com/author/fordashley

“Don’t make your life about the loss. Make it about the love.” ― Tracy Deonn, Legendborn

16

M CHECK YOURSELF Kat Zaccard usic shook the foundation of the mammoth, prairie-style house on Greek Row. The thumping bass sent reverberations across the lawn. Ashton Jones approached cautiously, feeling like an anthropologist about to stumble upon an unknown culture. She flicked her dark curly locks back, shook off her insecurity, and set her shoulders. This culture was new, but not unknown. This was her third semester on campus and both of her parents were alumni. She belonged. Chin high she entered the frat house that was packed wall-to-wall with people. Her nerves took a backseat when she entered the loud room. She couldn’t hear herself think. She glanced around the brightly lit room across the sea of shifting bodies. Ashton weaved through the crowd as she made her way to the kitchen. “Hey, ‘sup?” A blond kid with a red baseball cap stepped in front of her. “You wanna go upstairs?” He leered. Ashton recoiled. “No, thanks,” she replied as she side-stepped the intoxicated frat boy. Why was she here again? Oh yeah, because her parents pushed her into law school and begged her to make friends with all the movers and shakers of their Ivy League alma mater, or at least their over-privileged children. That hadn’t gone so well. Now, she needed to save face.

She made it to the kitchen and found a bottle of water in the fridge. Taking a long sip, she turned to reevaluate the scene. There was a group of shirtless dudes doing keg-stands at the other end of the enormous kitchen, a major dance party was underway in the spacious living room, and four or five people were doing body shots off of each other in varying stages of undress. Ashton never understood the appeal of slurping tequila out of someone’s navel. She almost felt like having a drink herself. However, she wanted to keep her head clear. She was on a mission. Where was Donny? “Are you looking for somebody?” Ashton turned to see a girl with hot pink hair and sparkling black eyes. She’s cute, Ashton thought. “Oh, hi,” said Ashton. Smooth, she thought, inwardly kicking herself. She suddenly felt self-conscious in jeans and a T-shirt. She was naturally curvy and her V-neck accentuated her assets, but most of the women in the room were wearing tight black tank tops and leggings with thigh-high boots. Ashton felt like she missed the memo. They all seemed to sport bottle-blond blow-outs or stick-straight hair. Ashton worried she stuck out with her curly hair, dark skin, and plain clothes. Cute girl was dressed in a shimmering silver sheath dress and high top sneakers. “I like your shoes,” Ashton said. Cute girl smiled. “Thanks! I can’t imagine teetering around in heels all night, especially in this chaos.” Ashton laughed. “Tell me about it, I’m feeling pretty underdressed all of a sudden.” “Nah, you look great,” she said “Look around, it’s like a Star Wars convention in here.” “Star Wars?” Ashton was missing the joke. “See all the leggings and tall boots? Just picture the leather jacket! Solo!” She laughed. Ashton saw another girl come in from outside wearing a bomber jacket. She had the obligatory tight shirt, leggings, and thigh-high boots. “Now, just picture a blaster in her hand and Chewie by her side.” Ashton laughed, “Okay, I see it. I’ll never walk around campus and not see it now. I’m Ashton, by the way.” “Hey, Ashton, I’m Isabel. My friends call me Izzy.” “Hey, Izzy.”

“What’s your major, Ash?” Ashton smiled at the nickname, but the corners of her mouth fell as she replied, “Um, I’m pre-law.” “You don’t sound too excited about it.” “Oh, you know, pushy parents. It was either law or medicine, and I hate blood.” Izzy laughed. “So, what would you study if you could choose?” “I don’t know,” Ashton said. Ashton’s cheeks grew hot and she looked down. “Come on, there must be something,” Izzy cajoled. “Okay, but don’t laugh.” Izzy raised her hands. “Wouldn’t dream of it.” “I’d love to study art. I’m not the greatest artist by any means, but I love it. I even love the art history part of it that most people complain about,” Ashton gushed. She didn’t mean to gush, but no one had asked her what she wanted to do before. She was surprised by her own conviction. It felt good to feel sure of something for once, but it was a fleeting moment. Her parents would never let her switch majors. “That’s awesome. You should totally study art.” Ashton laughed. “Yeah, right. I wish it were that easy.” “Why can’t it be?” Izzy asked. “You don’t know my parents. They have a lot of expectations. I don’t think they’d pay for an art degree.” “Hmm, that’s tough. I’m sorry.” “Hey, no biggie. I’m attending one of the best schools in the country. Life could be worse.” “Good point.” Izzy smiled. “Maybe you can slip in an art class here or there. You need a history credit, right? May as well take an art history class.” “Herstory,” Ashton said, offhandedly. “Preach!” Izzy replied. They bumped fists and laughed. “So, who do you know here?” asked Izzy. “I was looking for Donny Biffo.” “Oh, Donny, huh?” Izzy’s lip curled in what Ashton assumed was disgust. “It’s not like that. I want to play him in chess,” Ashton clarified.

“Oh, you’re that Ashton.” The long-drawn out “oh” made Ashton wonder what version of the story Izzy had heard. Donny Biffo was an alpha dog on campus. He had big hair and a big ego. His father was the Dean of the School of Business, and Donny was a seventh generation Sigma Theta Delta. Donny liked to go around calling himself the seventh son of the seventh son. Not that it made any sense given that he was an only child. Ashton liked to call him “king of STDs,” privately, of course. Donny was steeped in old money and undeserved swagger. He was charismatic and had most of the faculty and student body wrapped up in his delusions of grandeur. “Yeah, I was caught up in his charisma for a little while. We dated a few times.” Or at least, Ashton had thought they were dating. “Before you realized he was dating half of the sorority girls on campus?” Izzy filled in the blanks. “Something like that.” “So what do you want with him now? A second chance?” “God, no.” Izzy looked pleased. “I want redemption. I want revenge.” “Woah, easy killer.” Izzy chuckled. “I’m assuming you mean at chess and not, like, his bloody corpse?” Ashton blinked the red out of her eyes and laughed at Izzy’s casual remark. She smiled and unclenched her fists. Izzy beamed back, and Ashton’s stomach turned a cartwheel. No one had given Ashton a second glance at school until she had beaten Tony Hubert at chess. He was considered the best chess player on campus, next to Donny. At least that’s how Donny tells it. Everyone on campus knew Tony was better, which was why Ashton wanted to play him in the first place. Tony had underestimated Ashton, and she managed to use that to her advantage. Beating him had been the highlight of last semester. Then it all fell apart over the summer when she got mixed up in Donny’s circle of friends. She had been flattered by the attention. As a scholarship recipient, Ashton often felt like an outsider even though her parents were alumni. At first, it was nice to feel included with the campus’ elite squad. Then, little comments started adding up. Donny’s ex-girlfriend, Johnna Cheddar, had remarked with surprise how intelligent Ashton was after proofreading her

philosophy paper. Ashton tried not to take it personally. His friends were oblivious to their privilege. She knew she was smart and wished she didn’t have to prove it over and over again. That’s why it irked her all the more how things shook out. As if on cue, Johnna sauntered up, knocking Ashton’s water bottle out of her hand in the process. “Oops.” Johnna smirked. “What are you doing here, Ash?” “She was drinking that water. One too many already, Johnna?” Izzy inquired. Johnna glared icicles “Whatever, Izzy. I’d be careful not to give her anymore,” Johnna smirked. She grabbed a bottle of vodka off the nearby counter and held it aloft as she returned to the dance floors. A cheer went up as she shouted, “Shots for everyone!” Izzy ignored Johnna and resumed her conversation with Ashton. “My friend, Barry Landon, is a total chess geek. He beat Tony Hubert, too. Barry said he couldn’t believe Donny beat you. No one saw you play, so he’s dying to know what happened.” “It’s a long story.” One that Ashton didn’t want to get into. A commotion cheer from the other side of the room distracted them both. Glancing across the room, Ashton saw a crowd gathered around two people playing chess. “Well, come on. You won’t get your revenge over here,” Izzy smirked and grabbed Ashton’s hand to pull her through the crowd. Ashton felt a little thrill at Izzy’s touch, but the moment was squelched by the thought of playing chess in front of all these people. Izzy let go as they approached the chessboard. Ashton squared her shoulders and her resolve. I’ve got this, she thought. Donny was seated at the table and noticeably losing. His traditionally handsome features were screwed up in a scowl as his fist gripped his chin in consternation. Ashton could see he was down a bishop and a knight. Glancing at the other side of the board, Ashton could tell Donny was in real trouble. Donny’s hand dropped, and he relaxed. “Ha, you thought you had me,” he said with a grin. He moved his other knight out of the black queen’s path. As his white knight was quickly replaced with a black bishop, Donny’s grin disappeared. Ashton looked at the other player. She was struck by his

beauty. Ashton could appreciate the aesthetics in just about anything, but this guy was drop-dead gorgeous. His dark hair curled loosely, giving him a casual air. His wide-set, green eyes were penetrating as they examined the chessboard. His concentration was so intense that Ashton doubted he registered the crowd. His full lips ticked upward a notch at Donny’s next move. Ashton examined the board. She could see that the handsome stranger was going to win in just a few moves. Donny may have had a chance had he not taken the bait and lost his other knight. It was hopeless. “Resign?” inquired the gorgeous person playing black. “You wish!” chortled Donny. “Check!” he exclaimed as he moved his remaining rook to d8. “Have it your way.” The man smirked as he expertly moved his knight to block the white rook, exposing a route to the white king. “Check.” Donny scowled and scurried his king out of the way of the threatening queen. The handsome man only had to chase Donny’s king for two more moves. “Checkmate.” He stood to shake Donny’s hand. Donny slapped his hand. “Whatever, I’m off my game.” Donny pushed through the crowd knocking into Ashton as he passed. “Hey Donny, wait. I want a rematch.” She reached for his arm. Donny turned back and brushed her off with contempt. “Why bother? I already beat you once. Play that guy.” He stalked away angrily. “Whatever, he had you ten moves ago,” Ashton said, glowering at his back. “Sorry, Izzy.” Ashton went after Donny. Catching up with him by the keg, Ashton tried again. “Come on, Donny. I wasn’t feeling well that day we played. I want a rematch.” Donny chugged his drink before responding. “Look, Ashton, we had some laughs, but you’re sounding kinda desperate right now.” Ashton’s cheeks grew hot. She wanted to punch him and call him a liar. The best she could do was turn on her heel and try to regain some credibility. She made her way back to the chess table, but the handsome player was already standing up to leave.

“Hey, how about a game?” she asked. He smiled at her. Damn, she lost her train of thought there for a minute, mesmerized by his shockingly white teeth. “Another time, milady. I have a thirst I must quench.” He nodded to her and turned to leave. “Wait!” Aston tripped over someone’s foot as she tried to get around the table to stop him. Stumbling, she cursed and made it through the melee to the door. Jeez, he was fast! He was already halfway down the block by the time Ashton made it through the door. She trotted down the path then stopped. She was acting desperately now. She should have just stayed at the party and kept talking to Izzy. Ashton was too embarrassed to go back inside now. She’d already chased after two guys like a total loser. As much as she wanted to see Izzy, how could she show her face in there again? Ashton heaved a sigh as she walked along Greek Row. Better to call it a night than risk embarrassing herself more. With an angst-ridden harrumph, Ashton walked toward her apartment. The noise from the party faded as she turned up the street into the wind. She was grateful for her jeans, but wished she had worn a coat as well. The nights were getting cooler as autumn threatened to defeat summer once again. Ashton heard a noise behind her. Goosebumps rippled across her arms as she heard the noise again. Ashton turned and what she saw made her freeze, eyes wide, heart pounding wildly. Four large men approached her menacingly, reeking of booze. One cracked his knuckles while another glared at her, running his eyes up and down her body. He muttered something incoherent to his buddies, and they all laughed. Ashton tried to speak, but her voice came out in a croak. Her whole body tensed and her mind went blank. She was glued to the pavement. Knuckles reached for her while the leering one laughed. Ashton felt like she was underwater. She willed herself to fight back, but she couldn’t. Rough hands grabbed her and pulled her into the alley. Tears sprang into Ashton’s eyes. She squeezed them shut. This is how I’m gonna die, she thought. “What the hell?” one of the men cried.

Suddenly, the hands holding Ashton were ripped free. She opened her eyes to see a figure emerge from the shadows. He seized Knuckles and tossed him across the alley. His body hit the neighboring building with a thud. The sneering one wasn’t laughing now. He was getting pummeled by a man half his size. Glancing around, Ashton realized the fourth attacker had already been knocked unconscious. “I think you got him,” Ashton said, finding her voice. Her rescuer stopped punching the unconscious jerk. “Ah, so I have.” He stood. Turning to face her, he said, “My apologies for the blood, milady.” “You!” Ashton couldn’t believe it. The prim-looking chess player from the party just beat up four huge guys all on his own. He offered his charming smile and bowed. Who is this guy? she thought. “Darašius of Wallachia at your service, ma’am. And, to whom do I have the pleasure?” “Ashton Jones.” She almost curtsied, almost. “A pleasure. Well, I try not to leave bloodied bodies in the street, so what do you say? Shall I kill the men who tried to besmirch your honor?” “Besmirch my… kill…? No! No, I don’t think killing them is the, uh, right course of action.” Ashton couldn’t understand why she wasn’t more afraid of this homicidal hot guy, but he had just saved her honor, after all. “How did you manage to do that, anyway?” she asked, gesturing to the four prone men. Are you like a black belt or something?” “Or something.” His eyes twinkled. Ashton rolled her eyes at his nonchalance. Did he think his good looks got him off the hook for everything? She put her hands on her hips. Ashton knew she should be scared of this guy. He was clearly a one-man army, but for some reason, she was perfectly calm. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she considered she could be in shock. “I guess we should call the police?” Ashton didn’t particularly like the idea. How was she going to explain four huge dudes lying beaten on the street? Sure, she was the victim, but Ashton didn’t trust that part of the story to hold much water. Luckily, Sir Rambo Snooty-pants didn’t seem too inclined to call the cops either. “No, no. I prefer not to draw attention to myself.” Ashton smirked.

“Are you sure you don’t want them dead?” he asked, a little too casually. “No! I mean, yes, of course I want them dead. But I don’t want their souls on my conscience. They deserve jail, but I doubt the cops will believe my side of the story. I don’t have a scratch on me.” “Hmm, well, if you’re quite sure.” “Do you murder often?” Ashton asked with a laugh. Yep, I’m definitely in shock. “I try not to. It’s too messy. But if I do, it’s only despots and assailants such as these.” He kicked Knuckles for good measure, satisfied by the responding grunt of pain. “Okay, this is getting weird. I’m out of here.” Ashton took a step towards the street. “While a sound beating is their just desserts, I don’t particularly want them remembering me,” he said. “Wait a moment.” Ashton had no intention of listening to him, but she was curious as he started to rouse the nearest man. He stirred, his bald head gleaming in the moonlight. Darašius of Wallachia leaned over the bald one, staring deeply into his eyes. He murmured something, and Ashton watched him nod in agreement. Darašius circled around and did the same thing with the other men. Ashton stepped closer to hear what he was saying. Darašius slapped Knuckles a few times until he came to. “You will get up and follow your comrades over there to the police station. You will turn yourselves into the authorities for assault and battery. You will not remember me or my face. You will feel flaccid whenever you think of this evening.” Knuckles nodded and started walking away. “What was that?” “Oh, I’m a bit of a hypnotist.” “I’ve taken Psych 101. No one can hypnotize someone like that.” Ashton wagged her finger at him. “Okay, you caught me. I’m a vampire.” “A what? Stop playing,” Ashton chided. That was the last thing she expected to hear. “I’m not ‘playing.’ Look, I’ll prove it.” He hissed and his canines lengthened. He looked menacing enough, but Ashton wasn’t impressed.

“Did you buy those for Halloween? You’ve got another month, there, buddy.” Darašius was affronted. “Pfft,” he harrumphed. “How about this, then?” He darted across the street and back in a blink of an eye. Ashton gasped. “Okay, that was a little more convincing,” she squeaked. Darašius appeared to be satisfied. “Well, I don’t want you to think I’m some kind of crazed murderer.” “Right, you’re just the blood-sucking kind.” Ashton rolled her eyes and started walking down the alley. Darašius began to follow her. They crossed State Street where a group of pub-crawlers were scattered about. “Don’t follow me. I’m not your midnight snack,” Ashton said to Darašius as they passed a group of people. Some of them snickered at the comment. “Yeah, buddy! She’s not your snack!” One shouted with a shaking fist. “She is tasty, though,” said his pal as they sauntered into the next bar. Darašius chuckled. “No, of course not. I would never. But I do insist on escorting you home. Who knows what else is out here?” “Well, that’s…” Ashton’s retort died on her tongue. It had been a strange night. “That’s actually pretty nice of you.” “Careful, m’dear, I know I am handsome and charming, but don’t go falling in love. I’m far too old for you.” Ashton guffawed, her cheeks warming. “I—I’m not…how dare…” she sputtered. “Argh!” She stamped her foot. “Just because I accept your offer to walk me home doesn't mean I'm going to fall for you. How dare you,” she retorted. She picked up her pace, trying to stalk away from him. He jogged a few paces to catch up. “I do not mean to offend, ma’am. You’re quite lovely, but please, understand— you’re, what, twenty years old?” “Yeah, so? You look about twenty yourself.” “‘Look,’ being the operative word, I am many centuries your senior.” Ashton raised her eyebrows, considering his words. They left the noisy bar crowd behind, heading towards her apartment. The noise faded as they entered a more residential area of downtown. The trees were starting to turn, and a few golden leaves rained down on them as they walked.

“How old are you, anyway?” Ashton blurted. She gasped and clasped her hands over her mouth, hoping she hadn’t offended him. “I was killed on the battlefield in roughly 1456 by your calendar. I died by the hands of a Saxon warrior and was resurrected by a Gypsy vampire.” “I don’t think you’re supposed to say, ‘gypsy,’ anymore.” “She was a Gypsy, m’dear. You remind me of a young Audre Lorde. I had such interesting conversations with her.” “You knew Audre Lorde?” Ashton asked. “Certainly! Though, she wouldn’t have remembered me of course. I enjoy speaking with notable thinkers of the day, and learning how humanity has evolved over the centuries. I must say, aside from a few notables such as she, I’m not terribly impressed.” Ashton nodded. She understood the hierarchical structures that oppress all too well. “Regardless, the modern world has its moments. Airplanes are—what is the colloquialism? Ah, yes—neat.” Ashton chuckled. “So, 1456, huh? What happened after that?” She wasn’t sure what the vampire etiquette was for asking about life after un-death. Darašius shrugged. “At the time, I was still conscripted into Vlad’s army. I was coerced into changing his second son who fell on the battlefield. It was the biggest regret of my existence.” “Hold on, Romania? Vlad? Are we talking Vlad the Impaler here? Like, the OG Count Dracula?” “Ugh, Dracula! Bram Stoker has such a big mouth, almost as big as his imagination. How do you take a murderous autocrat and turn him into a love-struck wimp like Dracula? Not that I have any love for Vlad. He destroyed my homeland after trying to free the peasant class from the Boyars who ruled much of our countryside with an iron fist. “Boyars?” “They’re like land barons. Think slumlords with fancy boots.” Ashton shrugged and gestured for him to continue. Speaking of slumlords, she had considered pretending she lived in the building they had just passed, but she was entranced by his story. “After my un-death, we took refuge in Moldavia and Vlad forced me to turn his son, Mathias Vlad. I did not know what I was doing, and the

transition did not take well. Mathias lost all sense of humanity. He was a monster, and Vlad loved it. He used his undead son to kill his older brother, the other Vladimir.” “How many Vladimir’s were there?” “It was a popular family name, they were all Vlad-this or somethingVlad. It was terribly confusing. Anyway, you know the stories. Vlad the Impaler seized power back in Wallachia, murdered his younger brother, Radu, and put a bunch of heads on spikes. The rest is history.” Ashton shuddered. “After they burned half of my village, I realized I did not have to be a soldier taking orders anymore. I killed Mathias, and refused to turn Vlad into a vampire. I left the Ottoman Empire to the humans and made my way around Asia and eventually to the New World.” “Wow.” Ashton wasn’t sure what else to say to that. They walked a block in silence. “This is my place.” Ashton gestured to the townhouse apartment. “Thanks for walking me home. I can’t wait to hear more stories about your life.” “I’m afraid I can’t let you remember any of this, Ashton. Though I must say, it was pleasant chatting with you.” “Hold on, buddy. You’re not doing your hypno-mumbo-jumbo on me.” “Miss Jones, I must. You cannot go about your day knowing there are real vampires out in the world.” “Vampires? You mean there’s more of you?” “Of course! I will erase all memories of tonight, and you can live your life in peace.” “No way! I have agency, and you can’t take that away.” Darašius shook his head. “So like Audre. M’dear, I understand you have agency, but I’m doing this for your own good.” “I’ll be the judge of that.” She scowled. “At least give me a chance to convince you to let me glamour you.” Ashton crossed her arms and glowered. “Think about it, tonight was traumatic. You cannot tell anyone about it. No one will believe you, and it will slowly drive you crazy. Just let me glamour you into forgetting all of this ever happened.” He held his palms up, almost pleading.

Ashton thought about it, and tried to come up with a counterargument. She was tired, scared, and more than a little shaken by the attack. Maybe it wasn’t a bad idea to take away the pain. “Okay, but don’t let me forget the party. As much as I’d like to forget the embarrassing parts, there was a cute girl that I have to remember.” Darašius raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. He leaned in close and opened his eyes wide. Ashton stared back into his black pupils. “You had a wonderful time at the party talking to the cute girl—” “Izzy,” Ashton supplied. “Izzy,” he said. “And you went home afterwards and made it there safely. You decided never to walk home alone ever again. “Hey! No ad-libbing. Agency, remember,” scolded Ashton. “I am honoring your agency,” he sounded flustered. “I’m trying to keep you safe. Now, hold still.” Ashton rolled her eyes and looked back into Darašius’ soft gaze. He leaned in, staring intently at her. He repeated the words of his glamour. Then, he stepped back into the shadows. “Good night, Ashton,” he said softly. “Night, Darašius! When will this kick in, like after I go inside or something?” “What? You still remember? You know my name?” It was Darašius’ turn to look alarmed. “Duh! Is there, like, a delay or something?” “No, there is no ‘delay.’ Hold still and concentrate. Stop resisting.” He stepped closer. “I’m not resisting. Maybe you’re doing it wrong,” Ashton accused. Darašius sputtered. “I’m not doing it wrong! It worked perfectly well on those ruffians back there.” “Hmm, that’s true,” Ashton conceded. “Maybe you’re just rusty?” Darašius scowled at her, then leaned close to glamour her again. He slipped into the shadows. “Yeah, nothing.” Ashton shrugged. Darašius growled. “Well, this isn’t working. So, night!” Ashton headed up the steps to her apartment. “No, this will not do.”

“Too late. I changed my mind anyway. I don’t want to forget. I still have to beat you in chess.” “Ha! Not likely.” “We’ll see. Later!” Ashton slipped inside, leaving a very confused and amused vampire on her step. The next morning dawned, and Ashton almost wondered if the night before had been a dream. She picked up her journal on her bedside table. It was all there. Ashton stayed up late writing down everything that had happened, just in case there was a delayed effect of the glamour. Peeking through her curtains, Ashton saw Darašius waiting outside her door. Seeing him outside solidified that the night before had truly happened. “The sun’s up, shouldn’t you be sleeping it off in a coffin somewhere?” “Those are the kind of stereotypes that keep me from living my best life,” Darašius retorted. “Touché,” said Ashton with a laugh. His eyes sparkled. “I did use the phrase correctly?” he asked. “You nailed it.” Ashton assured him. His chest puffed out like a proud peacock. “So, I take it you recall last evening’s events and revelations?” he inquired. “Uh, duh. Otherwise, I’d be all, ‘who the hell are you?’ Hell, being the operative word here,” she remarked. “Yes, well, I regret being so open, I suppose.” “Don’t sweat it. Your secret is safe with me.” “Good to know.” “But, you definitely have to play chess with me.” “Oh, you want to lose?” “Ha! We’ll see about that!” Ashton chortled. “Losing is how you learn,” Darašius replied smugly. “I can’t believe I’m getting mansplained by a 600-year-old vampire.” Ashton rolled her eyes. “Hey, I’m only 565!” he whined.

They walked to the nearest café and set up a chess game. After about thirty minutes, Ashton was sure she was going to lose. She puffed her cheeks and blew out air as they traded queens. “I do have a few hundred years on you,” Darašius said as kindly as possible. “Yeah, yeah.” She was feeling a little disheartened. “Honestly, you are an excellent player, far superior to that Donny fellow from last night.” Ashton put her head in her hands. “Argh! Donny Biffo.” Darašius raised an eyebrow. “Was he a suitor? I must say, he is out of your league.” “What?” “Wait, I said that wrong. I meant you are out of his league. Apologies, ma’am, I’m still working on the modern—er—slang.” Ashton chuckled. “Okay, I’ll give you a break, and some advice. Stop calling me ma’am. Just relax a little. Slouch a bit. Do you know how to slouch?” Darašius looked confused. He tried to slump his perfectly squared shoulders and dropped his chin. He looked like a prince pretending to be Oliver Twist asking for more. Ashton laughed. “Yeah, okay, you’re not a sloucher.” Darašius righted himself with relief. “I was taught to carry myself to my full height,” he added proudly. “Okay, Your Highness.” “You might hurt yourself, rolling your eyes so much,” he retorted. “So, the prince can make a joke?” “I am no prince, m’a—Ashton.” “Nice save.” “I was born a poor peasant and conscripted into the army as a young boy. I only lived another six years after that.” “You joined the army at sixteen?” “Times were different. Sixteen was considered a fully grown man.” “Yet, I’m too young for you now?” “Indeed.” Ashton smiled. Her new blood-sucking friend was fascinating. “Checkmate.” Make that infuriating.

“Shall I explain where you went wrong?” Ashton glowered, then acquiesced. “Yes, please.” “You almost wiggled out of it, but you neglected to protect your pawn on e5. I had my knight moving in about six moves ago.” He rearranged the pieces to a few moves back, pointing out the critical mistake that lost her the game. “Ah, I see it now.” Their heads were together examining the board. She didn’t notice the pair approach until they heard a snarky voice interrupt them. “Getting some lessons, I see? Not sure that will help much.” Ashton looked up to see Donny and Johnna. “Who’s your new friend?” Johnna asked, leering at Darašius. “This is Daro Walla, you remember him from kicking your ass last night, right, Donny?” “I was a little off my game.” “Sure you were. How about you play me again?” Ashton seized the opportunity for redemption. “Nah, too easy.” He smirked and they walked away laughing. Ashton seethed in her chair. “Daro Walla?” asked Darašius. “Yeah, well, you need help fitting into modern times. Darašius of Wallachia is not how we introduce ourselves around here.” “Daro Wah-lah,” Darašius practiced his new moniker, drawing out the syllables to sound more Midwestern. Ashton laughed, happy to have a new friend lift her spirits. “Why are you so intent on challenging him? His ability is far below yours,” asked Darašius. “I know. He beat me once, and refuses to play again.” “How did he beat you? Were you intoxicated?” Darašius looked genuinely perplexed. Ashton laughed, appreciating the show of support. “No, well, maybe a little. To be honest, I let him win.” Darašius gasped dramatically and Ashton slumped in shame. “Why-ever would you do that?” “Okay, I’m going to tell you, but you can’t laugh. Or maybe you can, but you can’t ditch me afterwards. Remember, I know your secret, so no disappearing when you hear what a loser I was.”

“My word, young people are dramatic these days. I was knee deep in bodies on the battlefield at your age. It can’t be that bad, Ashton.” Ashton ignored his condescending remarks and steeled her resolve to tell him the whole embarrassing tale. “Here’s the thing. We were dating, or at least I thought we were. We never really defined it, you know?” It was Darašius’ turn to roll his eyes. “Anyway, he had just come back from a trip and invited me to dinner. He wanted to thank me for lending him some luggage. He made me dinner and gave me a glass ring he’d bought abroad.” “Hmm,” murmured Darašius, his lips pursed. “So we had dinner, which was delicious. And we started a game of chess. About thirty minutes into the game, I started to feel really sick. My bowels were in knots and I really had to pee, like urgently. I was so close to winning that I couldn’t leave. I didn’t know what to do and started to panic a little. Finally, I just threw the game. I had to get out of there.” “I don’t understand. Why didn’t you request a break? Or just tell him you were ill?” Darašius asked. “Yeah, thanks Einstein, 20/20 vision, you know?” “Einstein did not have 20/20 vision. In fact, he wore these huge glasses —” “Not the point, Daro.” “Ahem, right. Proceed with your tale, Ash.” He looked so proud of himself for shortening her name that she didn’t bother to correct the rest of his too formal statement. “Anyway, I asked him to get me a glass of water and I ran to the bathroom. But it was too late.” “Too late?” “I had peed my pants a little. And I was wearing these green pants that made it obvious. It was the most embarrassing moment of my life.” “Was it all that bad? I’ve seen grown men on the battlefield lose their bowels at the sound of a cannon.” “Okay, your attempts to relate to me are really not that relatable. Just saying. It turns out I have a gluten allergy. The dinner and drinks he served me were the culprits. I later learned that gluten can cloud your judgement as well as affect your—er—bowels.” “Could you explain that to him?”

“He has barely spoken to me since that night.” Darašius frowned. “If you ask me, Donny sounds like a terrible suitor. He gave you a ring and never spoke to you again? That’s, how do you say? —that’s messed up!” “The ring broke.” “The ring broke?” “It was made of glass. It broke that same night.” Darašius laughed loudly, causing the neighboring tables to eye him curiously. “What’s so funny?” Ashton asked. “My word, what an atrocity! He gives you a ring that breaks? He sounds like an unworthy suitor and a terrible friend. Plying you with drinks, not inquiring about what I presume was noticeable discomfort, and then disavowing your relationship over a minor human moment? I do not approve of this guy.” “You know, I never looked at it like that.” Ashton's eyes widened. “Thanks, Darašius. He really wasn’t worth my time.” “Not a millisecond.” “But he’s still bragging that he beat me in chess.” “And you will have to live with that shame.” “Hey!” Ashton saw the humor in Darašius’ eyes and realized he was teasing her. She smiled. “There are more worthy opponents out there. Trust me, Ashton, the more you succeed, the more enemies you gather.” “Speaking from experience?” “Eh?” Darašius shrugged, and it felt like the understatement of a century. They left the café and walked a block over to the downtown shops. Up ahead they saw a group of people painting a large mural on the side of the building. “Oh, look at that! That’s so cool. I wish I could do something like that.” “So why don’t you?” Darašius asked. “It’s not that easy.” “Ashton, I’ve lived over 500 years. Trust me, it is.” He picked up his pace and sauntered up to the group of people. He started chatting up the person who appeared to be in charge. Ashton jogged

to catch up. When she approached she saw Darašius talking to Izzy, the cute girl from the party. Ashton was happy to see her again. “Izzy! Hi!” Ashton said. Izzy’s smile fell as she glanced from Darašius to Ashton. Ashton realized that Darašius was in the same outfit as the night before. She had to quickly dispel any assumptions Izzy might be jumping to. “I see you met my friend, Daro. He’s like a brother to me, you know, the annoying kind.” Darašius shot her a dirty look, and she grinned back. “What are you up to here?” Izzy’s glower lifted at Ashton’s words. “Oh, I was just telling Daro that we’re working on this mural to highlight social justice. Do you want to help?” Darašius gave Ashton an “I told you so” look. She stuck her tongue out at him. She turned back to Izzy. “I’d love to,” Ashton replied. They spent the next hour helping fill in larger sections of color. It was so much fun that they made plans to meet up the next day to paint more. Izzy put her digits in Ashton’s phone and handed it back to her with a brush of her hand. Ashton tucked a curl behind her ear and waved goodbye. She had a spring in her step as she and Darašius left. “Thanks Darašius. I wouldn’t have had the courage to just walk up and ask like that.” “You’re young. It will get easier,” he replied. “I’m starving. Should we get dinner?” Ashton asked. Darašius raised an eyebrow. “Oh, right. I forgot what you were for a minute there. I guess I should ask what you eat?” Ashton slapped her forehead. Of course she knew what he ate! How could she forget she was hanging with a vampire? “I can watch you eat.” “Aren’t you getting sick of hanging out with me?” “On the contrary, I find you endlessly fascinating.” “Don’t go falling in love, I’m too young for you,” she retorted. “Touché,” he replied sardonically. “It’s been some time since I’ve...hung out with anyone for more than a few hours. I find myself perplexed by your inability to succumb to my glamour. I am not quite sure what to do with you.”

“Do with me?” she replied. Ashton knew he wasn’t threatening her, but damn. “Oh, that’s not what I meant. Truth be told, it’s been awhile since I’ve had a friend.” Ashton smiled at his vulnerability. “Well, I’d say you’re due.” “Hmm, it’s not that easy.” “I’ve lived for nearly twenty-one years and I can assure you, it is.” He grinned back at her. “Seriously, you need to get back into the world instead of stalking celebrities and glamouring them to forget you,” Ashton said. “I prefer to observe society from afar.” “Yeah, still creepy, buddy.” “Perhaps you have a point.” “Okay then! It’s decided.” Ashton clapped her hands together. “What’s decided?” “You should enroll at the university! Take some classes, make some friends. Get on TikTok. You know, live a little!” “Hmm, I don’t know.” “Come on! It’ll be fun! Plus, you have to stick around to turn me into a vampire when I start to wrinkle.” “Do not jest about that. I will never turn another human.” “Oh, sorry. I didn't mean to kill the mood. But is being immortal really so bad?” “Imagine outliving your loved ones a few times over. Life loses meaning without death.” “I never thought of it that way.” “It is easy for mortals to glorify immortality. But the truth is it is the hardship of life and the promise of death that drives humanity to progress. If anything, I suppose that is why I have lost that lust for life.” “All the more reason to get back into the world!” “It is not so easy for vampires. We must stay hidden. Humans cannot know about us. We reached an agreement to stay out of human affairs after World War II.” “Okay, we’re definitely coming back to that story. But, Daro, you’re seriously not at risk here. Humans are way too self-absorbed to notice you. Just move in a few decades when you can’t blame Botox for your great complexion anymore!”