Love by Night

by Stina

Adirah turned around, feeling self-conscious now. “Well, I don’t own a wardrobe of all black,” she shot back.

  Lina stood up from her bed and began smoothing her hair back into a ponytail. “You think I wear all black because I want to?”

  Adirah put her hands up and tilted her head. “Uh, well, most of us get dressed in what we want to wear. I didn’t think we lived in a country where we were told to wear a certain color. So yes, I think you wear black because you want to.”

  “You’re missing the point,” Lina said, moving closer to Adirah. “I wear all black to protect my soul. My soul is pure, but if I dressed like you”—Lina moved her pointer finger in the air, starting at Adirah’s head and moving to her feet—“the evils that lurk would be able to see that I am a pure soul. I would be a target. We are the ones they want . . . the pure, untouched souls. Don’t you know anything?”

  Adirah scoffed and rolled her eyes. “Oh, boy. Not this whole undead, spirits, ghosts, and goblins talk again. Who would want to snatch your soul?” Adirah waved at her and picked up her backpack.

  “The undead want all our souls, Adirah. They’re here. Trust me. You better protect yours too. They say that all black protects the things inside of you . . . your spirit, your soul.”

  Adirah laughed. “Really, Lina?”

  “I’m sure you’ve seen them. They’re the popular crowd. The biggest fraternity on campus. All good looking . . . no, gorgeous. Beautiful glowing skin. Perfect bodies. They’re all charming. Everyone on campus wants to be with them . . . until it’s too late,” Lina said. “Until their souls are snatched and they are forced to join their coven.”

  “So now the popular students are the undead? A coven? As in, like, a coven of witches or a clan of vampires? Or maybe even a brood, you know, the vampires that don’t come directly from the bloodline,” Adirah said sarcastically, twisting her lips.

  “Whatever they call their group, at Billet they pass themselves off as a fraternity. But . . . ,” Lina replied.

  “Oh, my God,” Adirah shot back. “Every college has that one fraternity that girls go crazy for. Stop it.”

  “I’ll show you later. You’ll see,” Lina said.

  “Right. You’ll show me the undead fraternity that snatches people’s souls,” Adirah replied sarcastically. “I’m starting to think that when I become a psychotherapist, you might be my first patient. Have a good first day of classes, Lina.”

  * * *

  Adirah couldn’t stop thinking about her crazy roommate’s words as she navigated through the sea of bodies on campus. She entered one of the classroom buildings and couldn’t believe how many people were in the hallways. There were students hustling and bustling in both directions, like traffic on busy thoroughfares during rush hour. Adirah got pushed out of the way more than once as she tried to walk and read the room numbers on her schedule at the same time. Lina had been right about one thing. Adirah stuck out on campus. She looked like a scared baby doe stuck in oncoming traffic in the middle of the highway.

  “What?” Adirah murmured and stopped walking. She turned around. It felt like someone was behind her . . . close behind her. Adirah waved it off, but she still felt an eerie sensation on her neck. It happened again.

  “Stop,” Adirah grumbled. She could’ve sworn someone had whispered in her ear. She touched the back of her neck, trying to get the prickly hairs standing up back there to lie down. Although she’d always waved them off, the voices and the feeling that some invisible person was with her all the time were something she’d never gotten used to since her childhood. Adirah’s mother had told her that communicating with the spirit world was her gift, but Adirah just thought it made her look and feel crazy.

  Adirah rushed into her first class with her chest heaving. She stumbled forward, noticing that all eyes were on her. She was the last to come in and sat in one of the auditorium-style seats just two seconds before the professor closed the door, preventing latecomers from entering.

  Adirah let out a long, relieved breath and wiped sweat from her forehead. College was definitely an entirely different world. She couldn’t believe how big the campus was and how easy it was to get lost. She listened to the low hum of student chatter and looked around at all the faces. Back in Brooklyn there hadn’t been this much diversity in her schools. Adirah touched her head wrap and adjusted her preppy sweater. She had certainly overdressed for class. Her cheeks flamed over.

  Lina was right. You look silly. Definitely like a lame freshman.

  There were girls there in jogging pants, pajamas, and jeans, and here Adirah was dressed like a prep school nerd. She folded her arms across her chest and sank down in her seat. Her entire look screamed “fresh meat freshman.”

  Adirah finally settled her thrumming heart and prepared to open her textbook, but the feeling that someone was right next to her came back.

  Dira. Dira. Dira.

  Adirah was startled, and her eyes went wide. This time the voice was calling out to her. She shifted in her seat, her body tense. She looked to her left and then to her right, her head whipping around in a frenzy. She waved her hands near her ears but then caught herself. Adirah knew that she couldn’t afford to look crazy in class. There would be no talk about spirits following her or voices in her ear this time. That had backfired on her when she was in high school. She’d almost been committed for psychiatric treatment behind that.

  As Adirah tried to get herself together, she turned one more time and made sure there was no one there. This time, she locked eyes with a stranger. He was staring straight at her, unflinching. Adirah held his gaze for several long seconds. Her heart immediately began pounding again. She didn’t recognize the feeling. Could it be fear, or could it be excitement? Adirah squinted. She had seen this stranger before but couldn’t place where.

  Whoa. He is gorgeous.

  She twitched in her chair, palms getting wet with sweat.

  Why is he looking at me? He’s too fine to be interested in me.

  Adirah noticed that the guy’s smooth brown skin seemed to glow, and he had the most gorgeous smile she’d seen on a man in her life. There was something about him that struck Adirah immediately. She felt her face get hot.

  No. Stop it.

  Adirah shook her head and broke eye contact with him. She turned around in her seat and shook her head. Why was he smiling at her like he knew her? Adirah touched her temple and closed her eyes for a few seconds.

  You’re not at school to meet guys. You’re here to make something out of yourself. Now, shake it off.

  After twenty minutes of daydreaming, Adirah finally focused on the lecture.

  “And we also try to find the connection between what we perceive as psychiatric disorders and real telekinetic and telepathic abilities. Are we mistaking psychosis for what is a real ability to do what is considered superhuman?” the professor said.

  Adirah had heard enough. She sucked her teeth and raised her hand.

  “Yes. Young lady down in the center,” the professor said and pointed at her.

  “I am not sure that an entire psychology class can be dedicated to what might amount to no more than fiction and is not fact,” Adirah said, shaking her head.

  “How so?” the professor asked, walking forward with his arms folded.

  “Well, telekinesis, as you should know, isn’t real. You’re talking about human beings saying they can move inanimate objects with their minds. Isn’t that a far reach and way too sci-fi, fantasy, and fictional for a college psychology class, which serious students like myself attend to earn a degree?” Adirah answered, frustration lacing her words.

  The professor chuckled. “Well, that’s the—”

  “Telekinesis is not fiction,” came a deep voice from Adirah’s left.

  The entire class turned toward the voice that had interrupted their professor. It was him! Adirah’s heart sped up again. He stood up, and she was able to see his muscular chest pushing against the thin material of his black T-shirt. She noticed the shiny
onyx emblem, with what appeared to be a four-point star and Greek letters, hanging on a braided leather necklace around his neck.

  That’s where I’ve seen him! The big crowd on move-in day. The popular fraternity . . . he is one of the members.

  “Or is it?” the gorgeous stranger went on, rising from his seat and taking a few steps toward her. His smile was almost infectious. Adirah caught herself wanting to smile back at him, although he was grandstanding on her point. “Aren’t fact and fiction both about perception? I mean, if you believe only in things you can prove, then would you ever accomplish anything?” he said, getting closer now. Adirah swore she could smell him. It was a powerful masculine scent mixed with an earthy smoked-wood aroma. It was sexy.

  He continued. “Isn’t telekinesis part of every psyche? Telepathy too? Don’t you tell yourself you’re going to move forward in life, so you do? Just like if I tell myself I can make that door slam, it might. Or that if I can make a beautiful woman love me, she might,” the stranger said, his eyes trained on Adirah with so much intensity, she had to shift in her seat.

  He was speaking directly to her, as if everyone else in the class had suddenly fallen through the floor. His chestnut-brown eyes were like a hypnotist’s gem, darting from side to side, trying to lull her mind. Adirah’s insides warmed up. She exhaled and sat up straight in her seat and broke eye contact with him. No one would have that kind of power over her. Her jaw rocked. She was mad at herself for having that reaction to him.

  “So, miss, do you think I can use my mind to do what I want?” the stranger asked Adirah. He smiled, mocking her.

  Adirah swallowed hard, her nostrils flaring. She hated to be embarrassed. Now all eyes were on her for sure. Her face felt like it would burst into flames at any moment. The professor had a pleased grin on his face, unfazed by the gorgeous student who had taken over his class.

  “I still stick to my argument. What does perception or fake powers have to do with my psychology degree? Psychology is about the human mind, not some fictional version of the human mind,” Adirah argued. “And no. Only a beautiful woman can decide for herself if she loves someone.” She slammed her thick psychology textbook closed and put her bag on her shoulder. She was done. “Psychology is about helping people,” Adirah mumbled. “Not about hoaxes and tricks and mind games.” She hated to lose an argument. She was seething inside.

  Adirah spent the last few minutes of the class anxiously tapping her foot, praying for it to end. When it was over, she shot up from her seat and scrambled toward the door as quickly as she could. She wasn’t fast enough. By the time she reached the door, her new nemesis had already made it there and was waiting, wearing that perfect smile.

  “Hey,” he said, pushing his long locks out of his face. “About earlier . . .”

  Adirah refused to look into his eyes this time. Although she was sweating and her stomach churned, she played tough, like he wasn’t having any effect on her. She put up her hand. “No need to discuss it. You have your opinion. I have mine.”

  With that, she went to brush past him. He reached out and held on to her arm. Adirah felt a jolt of electricity flash through her body. Shocked, she stopped abruptly, her right hand flying up to her neck. Her locket . . . She had forgotten to put it back on. Adirah sucked in her breath. She had never felt anything like that before from a simple touch. She finally looked up at the stranger, her eyebrows dipping low on her face.

  “What . . . what are you . . . ?” she stammered, unable to find her words.

  “Sorry,” he said, snatching his hand from her arm. “I . . . I didn’t mean to grab you. It’s just that I couldn’t let you slip away. I didn’t get your name.” Adirah could hear a hint of desperation in his voice.

  “That’s because I didn’t give it to you,” Adirah snapped, squaring her shoulders and gathering her composure. She wanted to leave, to run away fast. But for some reason, she was stuck. It was like her mind had suddenly slowed down to a crawl and wouldn’t control the rest of her body. She wanted to keep looking into his eyes, listening to his voice. There was a magnetic attraction, and Adirah had to fight hard to keep from being sucked in.

  “I’m Kesh,” he said, extending his hand. “And you are?”

  Adirah snapped out of her trance again. She squinted at his hand like it was a poisonous snake. “I don’t tell strangers my name. Especially strangers who try to embarrass me,” she snarled. With that, she was finally able to stomp away. She moved so fast, she was almost jogging.

  Adirah could feel his eyes on her as she left. The voices around her whispered in her ears.

  Turn around. Look at him. Turn around.

  Adirah wanted so badly to obey and turn around, but she resisted the urge. “No,” she mumbled. “No.”

  In the end, she had come out the victor. Just how she liked it. But Adirah didn’t know if she could resist the gorgeous stranger every time she had to see him in class, which was three days a week. There was something very irresistible about him.

  * * *

  Kesh grimaced as he made his way over to the Freeman building. His auditory senses were overwhelmed by the overlapping chatter of those conversing around him. The noise sounded like a vinyl record being played backward, and it rushed through his ears as if it were moving at the speed of light. The piercing laughter, the rustle of passersby’s clothes as they moved, and the crunching of car wheels on gravel all seemed to stab at his eardrums. Kesh wanted to stop, cover his ears with his hands, and scream. The older Kesh got, the less tolerance he had for the life. The alive life.

  “What’s the matter with you?” Tiev asked as Kesh approached, wearing a frown.

  “I don’t know how anyone survives with all the noise during the day,” Kesh complained. “I can hear every sound. Even people’s whispers sound loud to me. I can hear the tiniest noises, like birds tearing up leaves to build nests, and field mice scratching to make new homes.”

  Tiev chuckled. “First of all, you have sharp animal senses. Remember that. That’s your gift. And this is how life is supposed to sound. Noise. Voices. Laughter. Birds. Cars. You’ve gotten too used to living in the night, when all life forms settle down for their quick run through the afterlife . . . what the mortals, for some reason, call dreams. I thought by now you’d be used to living in the light. I mean, it’s only been decades, Kesh.” Tiev laughed again.

  Kesh twisted the gold ring on his left ring finger, contemplating the whole “walk among the living” thing. Tiev was right. Kesh had learned to live in the light decades ago, but there were times when he’d taken a break and gone back to the night. Kesh sometimes craved the darkness, but he knew he’d never find a queen if he lived that way.

  “Ah, don’t even think about taking that off,” Tiev said, nodding toward Kesh’s ring. “We fought too hard for the ability to walk among them, to walk in the daylight. A lot of people died so you’d have that freedom,” Tiev reminded.

  Kesh looked down at his ring and shook his head. The huge onyx stone with its diamond center resembled a human eye. This version of the ring was reserved for the king of the clan. Kesh had taken it off the former king’s finger right before he died at the hands of their rivals. When Kesh had learned that the ring had the power to protect him from the light of day, he’d begun walking during the day, banished no more to the darkness of night. Kesh knew walking during the day was the only way he’d find his queen. He also knew that time was running out. His rivals, the Malum Clan, would find him again, and soon. This time, Kesh wanted to be prepared.

  “First day of school is always fun,” Vila announced, rushing over to Kesh and Tiev, wearing a huge smile.

  Kesh smiled and raised one brow at her. “Uh-oh. What trouble did you get into now? I know that look.”

  Vila was always the life or death of every party. Although she was really over sixty-four years old, Vila looked eighteen and had adopted the college kid way of dressing. Her smooth skin and bright eyes were a sure benefit of being one of the clan.


  “I’ll have you know, sir, that I’ve been very good. I like this place,” Vila said, whirling around until her skirt made a parachute around her legs. “I think it’s the best campus so far. It’s so much fun taking over people’s minds to make them believe I’ve been here and I’m a popular girl.” She giggled. “I guess if you can’t be popular in the first life, the second time is a charm.”

  Tiev shook his head and laughed. “You’re at it again, huh? How many minds did you charm today? Wait.... Let me guess.” He laughed again.

  Vila laughed too. “Not many,” she replied, batting her eyes in mock innocence. “But tomorrow and the next day and the next day . . .” She shrugged. “There’s no telling what trouble I might find. Because this campus feels like home.” Vila inhaled and exhaled. “Something about being here makes me feel . . . well . . . alive.”

  Kesh shook his head. “I agree with, Vila. This campus holds a rich history and has some of the most beautiful descendants of our ancestors walking around. I came back here to learn more about my ancestors, the ones that survived the Haitian Revolution, only to be brought here by white men for enslavement. It was us, their children, who fought. I guess revolt was in their blood. It was here that we had our start,” Kesh said, breathing in deep and looking out at the expansive campus grounds with pride. “I wasn’t going to come back. I didn’t want to remember. But in my search for a queen, something pulled me back here.”

  “Don’t go digging too deep. We are here for you to find a queen,” Tiev said. “I know you feel nostalgic, but no one wants to be reminded of their making . . . of love lost and a time when we couldn’t control our own destiny.”

  Kesh contemplated what Tiev had said. His jaw went stiff, and he closed his eyes. His thoughts whipped in his head like a tornado’s eye. It was the first time in decades he’d thought back to the day he was turned.

  Raleigh, North Carolina

  December 1865

  “We free! We free! Free! Free!”

  The chants filtered through the tiny wooden shack. Keston lifted his head from the book he was reading by candlelight, opened his eyes wide, and listened.