by Raven Steele
After the hostess left, Lucien used his sensitive hearing to zero in on Eve’s conversation, blocking out all others.
“Are you ever going to order something other than Alfredo?” Charlie asked.
She laughed. “Why should I? I like the Alfredo. It’s a creamy, flavorful dish spread over thick homemade Italian noodles.”
“They should put that in the menu.”
“It is. See?”
He glanced down at the menu.
“You should try it, Charlie. You’ll become hooked.”
“I prefer the steer to the noodle. My teeth need something to tear into. Why don’t you try something different?”
The waitress approached their table almost at the same time Lucien’s waiter arrived at his.
“Welcome to Antonio’s. Our specials are—”
“I’ll have the Alfredo,” Lucien said.
“Very good, sir. And to drink?”
“Water’s fine.”
The older waiter nodded and walked away. Lucien returned to Eve’s conversation.
“Oh, and I’ll also have a side of sautéed mushrooms,” she told her waitress. “There. Are you satisfied? I ordered something different.”
“How very brave.”
Eve sipped from her glass and lowered it. "I heard from Sarah today. She got engaged, can you believe it?"
“Good for her! I'm not surprised though. When I spoke to her on the phone a few days ago, I had a vision of a young man proposing to her.”
Lucien cocked his head to the side. A vision? What did he mean by that?
"I can't wait!” Eve said. “I’ve never been to a wedding.”
The waitress brought to their table a tall glass of milk for Eve and a soda for Charlie. Lucien thought it strange she’d ordered milk. Nobody did that. Of course, nobody did a lot of things he’d seen her do recently.
“Michael called from Ireland,” Charlie said.
Lucien visibly jerked at the name of his birthplace.
“What’s he doing in Ireland?” Eve asked.
“He said something big is going down, but he couldn’t really talk. He’s supposed to email me more info later today. I called the Dublin office, but they don’t have a clue as to what he could be talking about.”
“Are you worried?”
“Yes. Michael doesn’t call unless it’s important.”
Eve looked out the window. Charlie looked at her. They sat in silence for a long moment.
“Are you happy here?” Charlie asked her.
“I’m not unhappy.”
“Were you happier in Coast City?”
“I miss the children at the Academy.”
"Do you want to go back?"
“No. This is where I need to be. It’s just taking longer than I thought. Why do you ask?”
“You’ve seemed distant lately.”
“Sorry. It’s been frustrating. I didn’t realize this would be so hard.” She twisted a white linen napkin around her hand.
Lucien adjusted his position to better see her hands. She had the most beautiful, long and slender fingers he’d ever seen. Again, he had the feeling he’d seen her before, but he’d met thousands of people in his incredibly long lifetime. They moved in and out of his life like a fleeting breeze, blowing neither hot nor cold. He remembered none of them.
“When someone chooses to withdraw themselves from the world,” Charlie said, “you can’t force them back into it.”
He rested his hand upon hers, as if to deliberately stop her from fidgeting. This bothered Lucien.
Eve glanced down at the white linen. “It’s not paper. I can’t tear it up.”
Charlie smiled at her. “I’m not worried about the napkin, I’m worried about you.”
“Don’t be. Everything will work out.” She moved her hand away from his and took a drink.
“But what if it doesn’t? What are you going to do with your life?”
“I never stress about my future. When you live forever, you don’t really have a future, now do you?”
The waitress brought their food and set it on the table. At the same time, Lucien’s waiter arrived with his pasta.
“Can I get you anything else?” he asked.
Lucien shook his head and thanked the waiter before he walked away.
What had Eve meant when she said she would live forever? She wasn’t a vampire. Maybe it was an inside joke he didn’t understand? He took a small bite of the pasta, just enough to enjoy its flavor. Eve was right. It was delicious.
“How long has Michael been with the Deific?” Eve asked, then took a bite of her own pasta.
“At least thirty years, if I remember correctly.”
“And Alana?”
“Not sure.”
“Are they really in love?”
“It’s hard to tell. They’re inseparable, but they never show any signs of affection.”
Through a mouthful of food, Charlie asked, “What about you?”
“What do you mean?”
“Are you going to fall in love?”
Eve squirmed in her seat. “Maybe one day. It’s not really my priority. Besides, I don’t see how that’s possible.”
Her answer confused Lucien, but Charlie didn’t seem surprised by the remark.
“Every relationship has its problems,” Charlie said.
“Yeah, but mine is pretty hard to overcome.”
It was Charlie’s turn to stare out the window.
Eve stood abruptly, nearly knocking over her glass of milk. She took three steps over to where a large woman with short curly hair and eyeglasses ate alone. Eve slapped the lady across the face. The woman cried out, stunned, and lifted her hand to her reddening cheek.
“Eve!” Charlie gasped.
Two men sitting at a table behind the lone lady also verbally expressed their disbelief. One of them, a tall lawyer-looking man, spat, “Bitch!”
In defense, both Lucien and Charlie stood up simultaneously.
Eve didn’t acknowledge the man, as she only was looking at the woman who cried quietly. “I’m so sorry. I thought you were someone else.”
Eve lowered herself back into her chair, staring down at her lap. Charlie followed suit.
Lucien remained standing for a few more seconds before he forced himself back into his chair, but he kept his eyes on the man who had sworn at Eve. Why did that bother me so much? It was almost as if the man had directly offended Lucien and not Eve.
“What was that all about?” Charlie whispered.
“I’ll tell you later.”
The waitress walked briskly to their table and dropped a piece of paper onto the table, her face scrunched tight. “Your check. Please leave.”
Charlie handed the waitress a credit card despite their being plenty of food still on their plates.
“I guess we’re not welcome here anymore,” he said to Eve after the waitress disappeared with his card.
“I’m sorry, Charlie. I was just trying to help.”
“I know you were. We’ll just have to find another place to eat from now on. But we’ll make sure wherever it is, that they have good Alfredo.”
Eve smiled.
The waitress returned with Charlie’s card. He scribbled quickly on the receipt and then stood up from the table. Eve walked behind him toward the exit, but when she passed by the woman she’d slapped, she apologized again.
The same vulgar man at the nearby table hissed, “Whore!”
Lucien’s heart thundered with sudden rage, and he gripped the wooden table until he felt it buckle.
Eve pretended not to hear and caught up to Charlie who was almost out the door.
As soon as they were gone, Lucien dropped a fifty-dollar bill on his table and crossed the restaurant to Eve’s table. He looked down at the name scribbled on the receipt. Charlie Grant.
Lucien headed toward the front door, but as he moved past the man who had insulted Eve, Lucien shoved the back of his head hard. The lawyer-looking man jumped to hi
s feet and spun around. He attempted to stare Lucien down, but Lucien let a small part of his vampirism emerge from the pit that contained his monster. His eyes glimmered a cold black, but just for a second and just enough to scare the hell out of the lawyer.
The man’s expression changed from anger to fear. Slowly, he sat down without a word. Lucien was glad the lawyer had some common sense. The last thing he wanted to do was cause a commotion in a public place.
As soon as Lucien returned to the Impala, he called Scott and gave him one more name to research: Charlie Grant. He leaned back into the seat, thinking.
The conversation between Eve and Charlie had only added to the mystery surrounding Eve. It seemed her purpose for coming to Seattle was to help someone for whom she wasn’t having any success. This meant very little to Lucien. What did disturb him is why she said she could live forever. It was a strange choice of words.
Across the street, a short woman in jeans and a t-shirt opened the door to the Deific and walked inside. She didn’t wear the usual business attire as the others, nor did she look official in any way. This gave Lucien an idea.
He cut across the street and opened the same door; a blast of air conditioning blew through his short hair. One of the security guards stood. His arms crossed at his chest, and in his right hand he tapped a short baton against his shoulder. He also flashed Lucien what was probably his meanest toughest face, yet a trace of fear glimmered beyond his eyes’ glossy surface. Somehow, he recognized Lucien as a vampire, but that couldn’t be possible, could it?
One way to find out.
Chapter 6
Lucien strolled into the foyer toward the front desk, his eyes darting around. The nearly twenty-foot high walls had been painted black, but bright light fixtures hanging from the ceiling made the room appear not as dark as it should’ve been. His footsteps echoed against the white tiled floor. It was a sharp contrast to the steady hum of several computers.
“Do you need something?” the standing guard asked.
“Yes, I need an accountant.”
“We can’t help you.”
“Aren’t you an accounting agency?”
The guard sitting down glanced anxiously to the other.
“Yes, but our clients are by invitation only.”
“Then you must be really good,” Lucien said. “I’ll pay whatever you ask.”
“I’m sorry, but it doesn’t work that way.”
“Money can’t buy things?”
“Not us.”
Lucien’s gaze flickered upwards. A security camera pointed straight at him. When he heard the faint whisper of a button being pushed beneath the desk, he ground his teeth together in frustration. The guard had triggered a silent alarm.
“I guess I’m not good enough for your firm,” he said. “I’ll take my business elsewhere.”
“You do that.”
Lucien walked back outside into the bright sun, flinching. Though he didn’t learn anything new about Eve, one thing was certain—the Deific was not an accounting agency.
He drove back to his hotel deep in thought with an uncomfortable ache gnawing at his gut. What the hell was he doing, following around some strange woman? So what if the Deific wasn’t really an accounting firm? But the most important question: why did he care?
Inside his hotel room, he dropped into the leather recliner and turned on a movie to try and distract himself, a loud, action-packed film. He squirmed in his seat, shifting back and forth, doing all that he could to pay attention. He had to think about something else.
He was halfway through the movie when his cell phone rang.
“What did you find out?” Lucien asked Scott.
“Charlie Grant’s life is an open book. He grew up in Coast City and has lived there his entire life. His parents divorced when he was seven. He has one sister. He graduated with a master’s degree in education. He was the manager of the Deific office in Coast City until he transferred here. Oh, and he was married for a short time, but then his wife passed away, murdered evidently.”
This piqued his interest. "By who?"
"Unsolved."
“What of his father?”
“His father was a history professor, but interestingly enough, his grandfather, Charles, also worked for the Deific for over sixty years.”
“Anything else?”
“That’s it.” Scott paused, then asked, “Are you in some kind of trouble, Lucien?”
“Not yet.”
“Keep it that way.”
Lucien hung up the phone and stood. He paced back and forth, the movie no longer holding his attention. It was getting late, and Eve would be home soon. Of course, that’s what a normal person would be doing, but he couldn’t be sure with her. He threw on his jacket and left the hotel to find out.
Lucien parked a few blocks away and walked to his usual spot in the tree, but halfway there, he knew Eve wasn’t home, his hearing having already zeroed in on the sounds of her home. He climbed the Oak tree anyway and decided to wait for her.
It was an especially dark night, the moon just a sliver. Even light from the street lamps seemed to get swallowed by the heavy darkness in the air. It unsettled Lucien, who straightened his back tighter against the tree.
Time ticked by and soon minutes turned into hours. With every second that lay wasted, a tick of its own rooted itself deep within Lucien. It was uncomfortable at first, an itch that couldn’t be scratched. He squirmed on the branch, thinking he could force this new sensation out of him, but soon the tick turned into a full pendulum swing of thoughts and emotions.
What was he doing here? He’d never stalked anyone like this before, not without killing them at least. Maybe part of him thought Eve was dangerous. He had seen her do some pretty crazy, almost malicious things, but the intent to harm others just wasn’t there. He’d seen evil in others. And unlike them, Eve lacked cruelty in her eyes. Instead, he saw something else, something he couldn’t quite grasp.
He shifted positions again, unable to ignore the growing ache in his stomach. Maybe the blood he’d ingested recently was bad, too full of drugs. It had happened to him before.
He squirmed again and tightened his grip on a nearby tree branch. This feeling was different. He had a vague memory of experiencing the same sensation a long time ago.
As more time passed, he realized the sinking feeling in his gut was worry. Eve should be home by now. Lucien told himself to leave, go anywhere but here, but he couldn’t bring himself to move down from the tree.
Finally, at three in the morning, a taxicab pulled up to her house and let her out. Eve stood on the porch for several minutes, her head pressed against the front door as if she was exhausted. Eventually she reached for the key hidden in the siding and opened the door.
Lucien had a sudden impulse to follow after her, but he quickly shoved the notion aside. Eve lived a life he could never be a part of. She was the living, he was the dead. So, until his fascination with her passed, Lucien would be a ghost.
For the next several weeks, Lucien followed Eve. Her work schedule was never consistent. Some days she would wander the streets for hours doing the most outrageous things, while other days she would stay at the Deific. Lucien couldn’t make sense of her behavior.
The sky was overcast, and its clouds trapped the smell of the sea within its grasp. Lucien inhaled deeply, and once again, followed Eve to work. Part of him was desperate to uncover the mystery surrounding her. The other part was genuinely curious to see what she would do.
Half way there, Eve slowed when she passed a Latina woman staring intently at a silver Volvo with spinning rims and a large spoiler in back. Eve bent over and picked up a metal pipe lying in the gutter and returned to the woman, giving her a friendly smile. Then, without warning or provocation, Eve turned on the shiny new car and proceeded to beat it repeatedly like a mad woman up and down, over and over. She broke every window, dented all sides and somehow managed to knock off both bumpers.
The Latina woman wa
tched it all with a big grin on her face, at one point even cheering. When Eve was done, she didn’t say a word. She merely returned to the sidewalk and continued on her way to work, not even stopping when a massive man came out of his house and yelled when he saw the car. He turned on the Latina woman who no longer smiled. She pointed to Eve who could be seen walking two blocks away. The angry man exhaled, flaring his nostrils and balling his fists. He ran, half-shuffled on account of his weight, down the sidewalk after Eve.
He didn’t make it very far.
Lucien stepped in front of him. “Turn around. Now.”
“Get out of my way!” he yelled and swung at Lucien’s face.
Lucien ducked, but returned quickly with a right undercut to the man’s jaw, knocking him out cold. He fell back, but Lucien didn’t stick around to watch Goliath fall.
He had to keep up with Eve.
Chapter 7
It was Friday. The weather was unusually sunny and hot, surprisingly just how the weather reporters said it would be. This bothered Lucien. The whole point of moving to Seattle was because of its storms, but overnight Seattle had become some sort of tropical paradise. His whole world seemed to be falling apart.
Midafternoon, Eve left the Deific with Charlie walking next to her. Lucien didn’t like Charlie, though he didn’t know why exactly. Charlie was harmless enough, seemed to be a good guy even, but Lucien hated him nevertheless.
Charlie was speaking on his cell phone as they crossed the street to the parking lot next to the coffee shop. He was almost to his car when he stopped abruptly. The phone in his hand fell to the ground.
Eve gripped his arm. “What is it?”
“It’s Sarah.” Charlie stumbled to a thick concrete barrier and sat down. He bent over and put his hands between his head. “She’s gone.”
“Gone like she quit?” Eve asked, her voice strained.
Charlie looked up at her, his face pale. “She’s dead. Car accident.”
Eve shook her head. “But that’s not possible. I just talked to her about her wedding!”