by Juniper Hart
He fought the urge, knowing that he would give himself away if he did so. Even though the bar wasn’t crowded, there were enough eyes to leave witnesses. He didn't want to have to kill everyone just to prove a point to those fuckers. Even the stench of them made his nose curl. He’d found that his hunger subsided considerably, even without the aid of the red wine he bought for just that purpose.
Watching the three men across the room, Erik nursed his drink, taking small sips. One of them clambered out of his chair and headed for the bar, right for the fair-haired woman.
"Three more beers, sweet cheeks." He wolf-whistled as she bent over to pull the beer bottles from the fridge behind the bar. The need to rip someone's throat out returned as Erik watched how the man's eyes strolled over her buttocks. To him, it felt just as bad as touching her.
He gripped the edge of his table so tightly that his fingernails gouged deep ruts into the wood.
"Control yourself," he muttered quietly and was relieved when the man paid and returned to his table with the drinks. It wasn't until he spoke that Erik realized he was looking back at him.
"You got a problem, pretty boy?" asked the bald man as he glared at him from across the room. Erik felt no fear at the obvious disrespect and frankness. Instead, he felt nothing but red hot rage.
"Yes," Erik said under his breath glaring back at the man.
"Did you say something?" The man demanded. "I can't hear you."
"I said, yes. I do have a problem," Erik said calmly, raising his voice only a little so that the pitiful excuse for a human could hear him. Everyone in the bar turned to see the confrontation.
"Well, go on then," the man said, as he tensed and turned to face Erik directly. "What’s your problem?"
Erik pushed himself up from his seat and began to walk towards the man. As he grew closer, the man's eyes grew wider. Erik soon towered over him like he did over most men. "I believe you need to apologize to the young lady for your rudeness."
"Rudeness?" The man looked startled.
"The whistle," Erik said coldly.
"I don't know about you, man, but where I come from, that's a compliment."
The other two nodded in agreement, and one clapped him on the shoulder.
"Well where I come from, it’s disrespectful," Erik sneered. He could not stop himself from clapping his hand down on the man's chest and gripping his t-shirt tightly enough to make his eyes bulge with fear. "Apologize to the lady," Erik demanded, barely able to keep himself under control. He could feel the man's heartbeat beneath his hand, and his fangs itched to protrude from his gums.
"I...I'm sorry." The man threw over his shoulder at the bartender. When Erik glanced over at her, he could see distress in her eyes. He suddenly checked himself, shoving the man down into his seat.
Erik had allowed himself to go too far. He could go no further. And so, he turned and strode quickly from the bar, trying to ignore the whispered comments he received as he went.
3
Lucy
Almost an hour after ringing the bell for last call, Lucy finally managed to lock up. She turned the key in the door before shoving them into her jeans pocket and pulling her scarf tighter around her face to protect against the late autumn chill.
Adjusting her jacket, she turned and began to make her way down the street towards her small apartment. Her bed was calling her name, her body aching to sleep for a week.
The street was deserted, lit by one lone street lamp that flickered every so often, casting an eerie glow to the entire place. Lucy tried to push away the fearful chill that ran down her spine as she wrapped her arms around herself for warmth. The temperature had dropped considerably since she'd walked into the bar at the beginning of her shift, and she began to wish she'd brought the jacket she'd considered wearing earlier that evening.
When she turned the corner into the alleyway that cut her journey in half, she realized something was wrong. The feeling that someone was watching her crept in so subtly that she almost missed it. Yet, there it was, that burning between her shoulder blades as her heels clicked on the cobbled floor of the alleyway. She shivered, telling herself not to look around.
The sound of footsteps heightened her senses, and she pinched herself in an attempt to remain calm.
"It’s just someone heading home after a night out," she whispered to herself. However, as the footsteps got louder and closer, she knew she was in danger.
The hand that reached out to grab her was large and meaty. It clamped down on her shoulder and spun her around too quickly for her to make an attempt at escape. Her mouth opened automatically to scream, but the hand's twin covered her lips before any noise was uttered.
"Hey there, beautiful," an oddly familiar voice called out to her. In the darkness of the alleyway, she couldn't focus on the face that loomed in front of her. "Where's your boyfriend now?" The stench of lager breath wafted over her as two more men appeared from the shadows further down the street.
Her mind raced. She had no idea what he was talking about. She didn't have a boyfriend. She didn't even really have friends. Not that she didn’t want friends; she just didn't have time to spare.
"He's not around to take care of her this time." A second man laughed, and as he drew closer, she recognized his bald head. Fear chilled her veins as she came face-to-face with the three drunk men who had been ogling her all night at the bar.
She remembered the handsome stranger who'd insisted on their apology earlier that evening, and she couldn’t help but hate his guts. Why couldn't he have just kept quiet like everyone else? She mentally scolded herself. But it wasn't his fault these three men were scumbags.
The urge to fight suddenly overwhelmed her, and before she realized what she was doing, her knee flew upwards into the crotch of the man who pinned her against the wall.
"Fuck!" he screamed, releasing his grip on Lucy and clutching himself in pain.
Lucy darted for the entrance of the alleyway, only to feel a rough, calloused hand grip her wrist and yank her backwards. Her back hit the jagged wall so hard that the air was knocked from her lungs. She gasped for breath as the bald man pressed his forearm across her chest to restrict her movement.
Something cold pressed against her neck, and utter horror burned through her as she saw the glint of the knife out of the corner of her eye.
"Next time you try something like that, I'll gut you," the bald man promised as he leaned close to her, so close that their noses nearly touched. The stench of his breath made her feel sick.
"What do you want?" she asked, and as she spoke, Lucy didn't recognize her own voice. It was small and quiet, like a mouse. All her courage was fading fast as her chance at escape closed.
"Well, first, I'd like whatever you've got in your pockets," the bald man explained. "Then, I want you on your knees."
Lucy was terror-stricken at what he was implying.
"Are you suddenly deaf or something?" The guy demanded, and Lucy felt the tip of the knife press against her throat.
Hot liquid slid down her neck, and Lucy knew it could only be her own blood. It pooled at the neckline of her shirt, and she could feel it soaking into the material, sticking it to her skin.
She gulped and then winced as the knife pricked her skin again. She could feel the tears burning behind her eyes, yet she bit the inside of her lip to stop them from falling. These men would not get the satisfaction of seeing her cry.
"Empty your pockets now," the guy on the left demanded. "Of course, we can do this the hard way, and I can strip search you."
Lucy panicked. She got the feeling that no matter how long it took, eventually her clothes were coming off. They were going to have their way with her. Maybe she could stall them?
Her hands shook violently as she reached down to her pockets and pulled out her cell phone and her tip money from the evening. Her thoughts drifted to the handsome, yet troublesome, stranger who had given her a nice tip earlier. Anger flared inside her again as she realized he was the re
ason she was in this mess now.
Still shaking, she was unable to stop the items from falling from her hand. One of the guys cursed as he bent down to pick them up.
Suddenly Lucy saw her chance—possibly her only chance—to escape, and she took it. Instinctively, she brought her knee up directly into the nose of the man who was bending down in front of her. An audible crack probably meant she'd broken his nose.
Blood continued to trickle down her neck, but she hardly noticed. Adrenaline pumped though her system, and as the other two men began to yell at their wounded friend to go after her, she raced for the entrance of the alleyway. Her heart was in her throat as she stumbled forward, barely managing to remain on her feet.
The alleyway entrance was so close—only a few more feet. She could make it. Out of nowhere, a hand clamped on her arms and a huge bulking figure stood before her. She was stopped just short of the entrance that led back onto the street where she could scream for help, or at least race back into the bar. Her eyes widened, and she gawked at the stranger who held her. His crystal blue eyes blazed, and for a moment, he stared down at her as though she was the only thing he could see.
Then his nose seemed to twitch and his gaze turned to the trickle of blood that oozed down her neck and between her cleavage. She felt her cheeks grow red hot with embarrassment, or maybe fear, as she watched his jaw harden. There was a hungry look in his eyes that Lucy wasn't sure she liked.
"Get behind me," the stranger said through clenched teeth. "Don't go anywhere."
With that, he moved her as though she weighed little more than a feather, pulling her around behind him before turning his attention to the three men who were now sauntering towards them. The knife-wielding attacker pointed the tip in their direction while the man with the broken nose held his face, obviously in pain, his fingers coated with fresh, dripping blood. The third looked less confident than he had a few minutes earlier, and seemed to hang back as though he was having second thoughts.
"You again," the bald-headed leader spoke. "I thought you left."
"You thought wrong." The stranger’s voice grew deeper than Lucy thought possible. She was sure a deep growl rumbled from his chest, as though he were a lion defending his territory.
"You should have gone," the man with the bloodied nose laughed. "Joe's going to fuck you up."
"Oh, is that right?" There was a menacing tone to the blue-eyed stranger’s voice as his shoulders squared. Lucy thought he had been at his full height, yet as he rolled his shoulders back and straightened up, Lucy realized that he grew an extra few inches. "You sure you want to do this?" he asked the question as though the answer was of little consequence to him.
"Oh, hell yeah," the bald man laughed. "No witnesses? I couldn't have asked for a better gift than to get my hands on you."
"I could say the same," answered the stranger.
Though she could not see his face, Lucy could hear the smirk in the stranger’s voice, and her heart swooned at the mere thought of seeing it. Her fear was suddenly gone, and she felt nothing but warm excitement as she wondered what he was about to do. Part of her hoped he would pull out a badge and a gun, but he didn't quite look like a cop. There was something much more sinister about him, but she couldn't quite put her finger on it.
The bald man laughed and tried to articulate a comeback, but his words were cut off by a deep, dark gurgling sound. Lucy barely managed to take in the scene in front of her, as her mind couldn’t keep up with the events taking place.
The stranger moved forward so fast that Lucy’s eyes completely missed his movements. A rush of air against her face was the only indication he had moved from in front of her. Lucy hardly blinked before finding the bald man suspended in mid-air. She held back a gasp when she saw a railing that penetrated through his neck, the railing that had been discarded at the edge of the alleyway for so long Lucy had forgotten it even existed. Now it was the only thing holding the man up as his body shuddered, and the knife dropped from his hand with a loud clinking sound.
Lucy retched and vomited onto the cobblestones as another man screamed, "Holy fu—”
His words were cut off just as his friend's had been, though he began to scream as the sound of cracking bone sent him to his knees. The frightened third man, who looked like he had been ready to bolt as soon as the stranger arrived, dropped like a sack of potatoes to the ground beside him, his head spun at an unfortunate angle. His eyes were already fading as he hit the ground, and Lucy knew deep down that he was dead.
The stranger now stood in front of the big talker who'd tried to make Joe sound like the big bad wolf. "Any last words?" he asked in a chilling tone, and Lucy was again reminded of a territorial lion.
"I...I...please...don't...." the man began to stammer.
"Oh, I hate beggars,” the stranger hissed as he punched a hole right through the man's chest. Lucy screamed as she saw the heart still pulsing between the man's fingers. He released his fist, and the vital organ dropped to the ground as he placed his other hand on the man's shoulder and ripped his arm free of his ribcage.
Unexpectedly, Lucy was pressed up against the alleyway wall again. Her screams were cut off by a bloody hand over her mouth. A metallic taste soaked her taste buds before she could clamp her lips shut.
"I'm not going to hurt you," the man whispered into her ear, his voice was calm, quiet, and even a little tender. "If I remove my hand, can you promise you won't scream again?" He asked looking down at her with piercing blue eyes.
Lucy held her breath as she slowly nodded, and when his hand released its hold over her mouth, she spat blood all over the cobblestones. The stranger stepped backward, his eyes remained on her face, and the hard line of his jaw returned.
4
Erik
The fear in her eyes was enough to make his cold, dead heart twitch with a sensation he hadn't felt in so long he barely recognized it. She stared at him as though she wanted to run, yet she was trapped in the eyes of a predator. A look he had seen all too often, a look he'd seen on each of the three men's faces as he'd ripped their lives away. He felt no guilt or no remorse. He didn’t feel anything. Those men were the reason he hunted in dive bars. They were the dregs of society, the ones nobody would miss, the ones who tasted awful, yet sustained him and his lowkey living.
Now he was faced with a tough decision. The beauty before him was now a witness. He’d protected her before on other nights she’d left the bar too late. However, she’d never even realized that she was being followed on those nights. She certainly didn’t see the bloody remains of her predators. Now, everything changed. She had seen too much. So why couldn't he just rip her throat out and be done with it?
He’d been watching her for more than a year. Erik was drawn to her innocence. She was harassed nightly at her job by drunk men, but she was a fighter. She did what she needed to do to survive to make ends meet. Lucy was kind, and as far as Erik could tell, very lonely. Nobody was on her side to help her, which is why he came to the bar night after night. Even though he could never be with her, he felt the need to protect her.
"Go," he muttered, taking a step back. The sickly sweet scent of the blood that oozed from a thin slice in her throat was enough to bring his fangs forth for the second time that night. He sensed the veins pumping throughout her body and imagined just how sweet she tasted. "Go!" he yelled louder, adding a menacing snarl in the hopes it would make her move.
He was barely able to control himself as she took a step towards him. He turned his face away from her as he felt the urge to latch on to her throat and drain every ounce of blood from her body.
"Thank you," said the woman. It was the last thing he expected.
Erik had been alive for 331 years and had seen so many humans come and go that he never expected any of them could surprise him. Yet, here she was thanking him. She’d just watched him rip three men apart, but she didn’t run for the hills when he’d allowed her to leave. She thanked him for being a murderer. She thanked him for
being a monster.
"Don't thank me," he said with a straight face. "Run! Run and don’t turn around until you get through your front door!" he snapped, forcing the glamour onto her, no longer able to wait for her free will to kick in.
He watched her spring into action as the glamour forced her muscles to react. There was a shocked glimmer in her eyes as though she couldn’t understand what was going on. She raced off down the street and didn’t look back, as he’d instructed her.
Erik breathed in deeply, in the hopes of catching one last trace of her fresh, sweet scent. What hit his nostrils made the already cold blood in his veins turn to ice. It was a scent he had not smelled for more than a century, though he knew exactly what it belonged to. Something cold, dark and dangerous was just around the corner. Erik knew that Lucy would never be safe again. And it was all because of him.
5
Lucy
The burning sensation between her shoulder blades was enough to tell her that she was being followed, yet again, but she couldn’t find the willpower to glance over her shoulder. Instead, she found herself charging home, never once taking her eyes off the street ahead. Her heart hammered in her chest and her mind spun as she tried to comprehend everything she had just witnessed.
The rage in the stranger’s eyes seemed almost unhuman. The way he appeared and disappeared in seconds, and the way he’d punched a hole right through a man’s chest to hold his heart in his hands, couldn’t be possible. She’d heard the term ‘to hold someone’s heart in the palm of your hand,’ yet she had never imagined it to be literal.
Everything she knew about the world suddenly seemed wrong. It all felt wrong. Her whole life, she’d grown up listening to fairy tales, watching movies filled with monsters and creatures that went bump in the night, though she never believed she’d actually get to meet one. Now she didn’t even know what that creature had been.