My Midnight Moonlight Valentine

by J. J. McAvoy

  Though in America, there weren’t really Nobles or titles like my lady, it still made more sense at the time.

  “Yes, many of them believe we are stuck up because we do not suffer the things they do.”

  “Are we stuck up?”

  He grinned, nodded, and teased, “Horribly so. But can you blame us? Have you seen what they suffer? A little sunshine and they look like the undead.”

  It was a bad joke. I tried hard; I really did, but I grinned, too, luckily, not laughing. “Just earlier, you were looking down your nose at the humans for being bigots, and here you are looking down at other vampires.”

  “Because humans are ridiculous. They judge one another based on things that have no bearing on their humanity. What does skin tone have to do with whether or not you are the same? In our case, there is a very big difference between a Noble and Lesser Blood. We are close but not similar. Lesser Bloods are a liability and often unstable.”

  “Prejudice is prejudice,” I reminded him. “If I were a Lesser Blood, would you still try to mate me?”

  “Yes,” he said without hesitation; his eyes shined with no doubt. “Though I am sure our society would gossip, none would dare to in my presence, but mercifully, we do not have to be a vampire Romeo and Juliet. I quite hate the play.”

  “I happen to like that play.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Of course, you would. Your romantic heart bleeds for such tales.”

  “I should remind you that just because I’m being nice and hospitable does not mean I have agreed to mate you.”

  “Yes, I have noticed.”

  That felt too simple. “But?”

  “But, we are destined, Druella.” He sounded more like the bleeding-heart romantic now.

  “And how do you know that?”

  “I told you, I came to this land—or in 1920 I thought of coming to this land—because of you.” His voice got softer. Reaching up, he brushed a piece of hair from my face.

  “I was born in 1993,” I said back gripping his wrist, stopping him from touching me any further. “So, I think you’ve made a mistake somewhere.”

  “No.” He shook his head, leaning in closer. “What makes us different from Lesser Bloods is magic, Druella. It is in our blood. And a great many of us do not lose our minds when we are reborn but have it focused onto one thing, one gift that defines us, what humans would call a supernatural ability. It is because of that I knew who you were when I first saw you because I thought of your face a thousand times—many thousands of times.”

  “So, you’re telling me, your supernatural ability is to see the future?”

  “No, mother’s gift allowed her to see the face of one’s soul mate. She saw you. She described you perfectly, from your deep brown eyes and skin to your dark black curls to the small freckle you have here.” He pointed to the black birthmarks I had under my right eye. The first was where the corner of my eye met my nose. “And here.” The second was more toward the end of my eye. “And here.” His fingertips touched the one on the top of my right ear where I had my piercing. “And here,” he whispered softer as he reached the fourth one on my neck.

  Shivering, I wondered if he knew about my other less visible ones.

  Get yourself together. Shaking my head, I focused back on him, trying to joke to lessen the tension I felt. “So, you crossed the sea just to find me?”

  However, he nodded. “And I did not even have a slipper to go by.”

  Chapter 4

  When I became a vampire, one of the hardest things I had to come to terms with was possibility. As a human, things were either real, fantasy, and sometimes, but rarely ever, unexplainable. Magic, vampires, superpowers, witches, all of that was fantasy—things people read for entertainment. But as a vampire, it was reality, and everything that I thought was impossible suddenly became possible. I had thought I’d been handling it relatively well. I now realized, I’d just been sticking my big toe into the supernatural pond; I hadn’t fully embraced the chaos yet. And I wasn’t sure if I was ready to start now.

  “I don’t understand,” I released his wrist. “Actually, I do understand. You explained that quite well. What I mean is how? No, you explained that, too. Ugh, I don’t know how to speak right now. Give me a second.”

  He did. A literal second.

  “What you mean is—” His head was still far too close to mine—“how is this happening to you?”

  “Exactly,” I replied, feeling my earlier desire to not back down from him waning a bit. However, when I pulled away to put distance between us, he leaned forward. I wasn’t sure what face I made, but it made him chuckle and move away.

  “It is happening to you because it is meant to happen to you.”

  “I’m the creator of my own destiny, thank you.”

  “Oh, are you?” he questioned, amused, his accent slipping out even further. “Was becoming a vampire part of your plan?”

  My mouth closed, and my eyes narrowed. I didn’t answer.

  “I see. It just may be that you do not have as much control as you would like to think.”

  Oh, so annoying. “So, you’re telling me, my destiny is to spend an eternity with you? I disagree.”

  “And I disagree with your disagreement, so we shall have to come to a resolution. How long do you believe such a thing shall take, stubborn one? An eternity?” he asked with a wide smile.

  “I am not stubborn; you are crazy,” I growled.

  Theseus looked like he was trying not laugh. “What would your Mr. Darcy say? Yes, course, my dear?” he said the last bit with an English accent that sounded natural like he had spoken that way all his life.

  “Are you finished teasing me?”

  “I am not sure; I am quite enjoying it actually.”

  I let out a deep unnecessary sigh, brushing my curls behind my ears before slowly speaking. “Theseus.”

  “Yes, dear?” he said back.

  I growled, and he pretended as if he didn’t hear it, still waiting. “You can’t just come across the sea, claim you’re my mate because your mother saw me in a vision, and expect me to jump into your arms. You don’t even know me. You should mate someone because you met them and fell in love and…”

  “When did humans and witches come up with this idea of love?” he questioned curiously, his eyebrow raised. “That somehow you are to find your great love and not create your great love? With such short lives, how do they intend to do such a thing? When I was among them, marriage was arranged by family and elders. You grew to love the person who you were betrothed to.”

  “Yes, I’m sure it was a grand time for the women who were married off to old fat men, oh the good ol’ days,” I said with sarcasm rolling off my tongue. I couldn’t even roll my eyes hard enough.

  “That was not how it was most of the time. The books, arts, and plays that survived made it seem so, but it is not a true representation. If all that was left of your society was the work of your entertainment, what do you think future generations would say of your lives?”

  I actually feared the answer to that. All I could see was literature and text and videos of reality T.V. stars being taught as a real history in a classroom one day, and that was a horror I didn’t want to see.

  “History, as you will see, is often what survives and not what actually was,” he muttered a bit disappointed by it.

  “Either way,” I said, trying to pull us back on track. “How can you be so sure about me?”

  “I have seen the strength of my mother’s gift. I have seen you, and I have never before spoken so long with a woman about so much of nothing and everything.” The smile he had on his face was as if he’d never been happier in his life, and it left me a bit stunned for words.

  “You said you needed my help to get out of my hair, but now I see, you were saying that just to get me to come with you. Do you really remember
nothing for the last century or was that a trick, too?”

  His smile faded a bit. “I do apologize. I did lie about wanting your help to leave you, but I swear, I truly do not remember past 1920.”

  “Right before you came to look for me?”

  He nodded. “My mother’s gift was not perfect. It does not simply come by seeing another person. For her to see someone’s soulmate, they must already be alive or close to being born. I’d watched her help countless other vampires for centuries, even my siblings; however, when she looked at me, her vision was dark. To me it was merely days ago, the look upon her face as she entered our dining room as she normally did, humming to herself, about to ask my siblings and I what was happening in the world of mortals today. As we all sat around our large dining table with nothing but a glass of blood for dinner, her blue eyes stopped on me. She—who also walked as if she were on air—stumbled a bit, her eyes wide, and a smile I hadn’t seen since the day she had first met my new father crossed her lips. She said only one thing, finally. I knew exactly what she meant.”

  He reached up and brushed away my stubborn curl that kept falling forward. “Do you know how difficult it was for me to maintain my composure? I could not bear to have my siblings tease and mock me. But at the same time, I wanted to know badly. It was like a jamboree in our home. Everyone gathered around the salon as I sat in front of my canvas, waiting for her to describe who I would spend my life with. And then, there you were. I stared at the painting, making plans to come to wherever you were. We knew by the trees in her vision, it was not in Europe, nor was it Africa. It was most likely America. My sisters began to look for tickets immediately. And still, I stared at your image, wondering what kind of woman you were. How your voice would sound. Your skin and hair feel. I drew you over and over again, until it became much too late, and I finally retired to bed. Next thing I remember, I woke up in a strange land, and there you were, running toward me, eyes wide and in the strangest clothes. Then you told me it is 2020 before trying to escape.”

  “How…” My voice came out heavy, and I didn’t know what to make it of it, so I tried to just push by it as if it never happened. “What are you going to do about your memory? Something must have happened?”

  He bowed in agreement. “It is not my pressing concern.”

  “Losing a hundred years of memories is a huge concern.” If it were me, I’d be panicking and a bit terrified, but he was completely relaxed.

  “Not when it is pit against finding your soulmate and winning her affection,” he said before beginning to yawn, and it was only then that I noticed the sun had started to rise.

  What? I felt like we had only been talking for an hour. Maybe be two. How was the sun already coming up?

  “Forgive me, but I am no longer young enough to deny sleep.” He yawned once more. “Do you mind if I rest before we continue?”

  “What if you wake up and find yourself in 2120 next?” I joked, rising from the balcony floor. I even offered him my hand as he was an old man.

  “Then I must find you again.”

  “If I recall, I found you.”

  “Brilliant.” He smiled with that mischievous look in his eyes. “I shall count on you finding me again in 2120, my dear.”

  Why did I have a feeling he wanted me to say that?

  This was madness, and yet here I was, going back into my apartment with him, my mind racing with more questions I wanted to ask, more things I wanted to know, instead of thinking of how to get him back home.

  Home. That was right. He would have a home.

  “Do you have people you want to call? To let them know you are alright?”

  He paused and looked at me strangely. “Why would I not be alright?”

  “Because…” I thought for a moment. “You’re in a strange place, in a stranger’s apartment.”

  “Lands are never strange. It is the people upon them who are, and though I do not know much about you yet, you are no stranger,” he mused and tapped my nose. “Besides, I do not know whom or how to call.”

  “Right, your family wouldn’t have any of the same numbers that you remember,” I muttered, thinking about how else we would contact his family.

  “Druella.” He cupped my cheek, and I glanced up to him a bit stunned. “Do not fret much over me; I am not a child. Instead, tell me what you shall be doing while I sleep, so I do not fret much over you.”

  “I am not a child, either,” I shot back.

  “You are very young,” he reminded me, but it didn’t have the same lightness in his voice as it did when he called me young one. “And very much lonely.”

  I frowned at that and stepped out of his arms. “Please don’t assume my emotions. Like the word says, you only make an ass out of you and me.” I pointed to the bedroom he’d gone to earlier for clothes. “You can move whatever you need around to lay down. I have to head to work by eight, and I will be back by six tonight.”

  “Is it safe?” he asked gently.

  “It’s been safe for the last year. Do you come with danger?”

  “Very well, I will try not to rest long.” His failure to answer the question didn’t go unnoticed.

  Though I could tell he was tired; he didn’t move, still watching me, and it made me feel awkward under his striking gaze.

  “Thank you—”

  “Good—”

  We both tried to speak at once.

  He smiled, and I waited for him to go first. “Thank you for the room.”

  “No problem. Have a good morning and good sleep,” I replied, and he nodded, turning and heading back. When the doors closed behind him, I spun around and wanted to bury face in my hands.

  Good morning and have a good sleep? Ugh, what was that?

  What in the hell was going on with me?

  Heading back into my room, I fell onto my bed and closed my eyes, wishing I could go to sleep, too. Then I could wake up, and this would be a dream. A very long and odd dream. Instead, I just listened as he carefully shifted boxes, not opening them but stacking them neatly in the corner of the bedroom before laying on the bed.

  It was only then that I realized the bed had no sheets, and I shot up like…well a vampire out of the grave, looking to the wall beside me. I opened my mouth to speak but shut it, not wanting to disturb him.

  “I am not asleep yet,” he said, reminding me that he could hear every move I made as well. “Is there something the matter?”

  “…Ugh, I was just wondering if you needed sheets or something?”

  “We do not get cold, Druella.”

  “Yes, but the sheets will feel better than the bed itself, right?”

  “I have slept on much worse.” His voice trickled through the wall.

  “Right,” I whispered, imagining him just laying on top of the bed with no sheets or pillows. Ugh, there were no pillows.

  “This shall bother you, will it not?”

  “Yes, so badly.”

  He laughed, and it sounded like wind rushing through the leaves in the forest. “Very well then, come.”

  With great speed, I ran into my closet, pulling out my best silk sheet set and taking one of the pillows from my bed before appearing at his door. I paused, wondering if I should knock, but he opened the door.

  “You are aware this is your home? You do not need to knock.” He leaned ever so handsomely on the doorframe.

  Ever so handsomely? God help me. I had this bad habit of adjusting or copying how other people spoke.

  “I’m aware, but that would be rude.” I stepped inside. I moved quickly to make the bed, but he moved just as fast, taking the other end of the sheet. I looked at him, and he looked back. Not saying anything, we quietly set up the bed. When it was done, I smiled.

  “What a strange thing to get satisfaction from.” He stared down at the dark grey silk sheets.

  “
Make fun of me all you want—”

  “I am not speaking about your satisfaction.” His gaze moved from the bed. “But mine. It is strange to me how pleased I am merely by your desire to do something like this.”

  Again, my mouth opened, and I shut it without a word. I hated that habit of mine. It made me feel like a goldfish sometimes.

  “Well…” What was I supposed to say to that? “Enjoy.” I turned to leave, but he caught my wrist, stopping me. “What?”

  “I am so focused on every sound you make. I cannot sleep…lay with me for a bit.”

  I wanted to ask him if he’d lost his mind, but there was something in the way he looked to be fighting sleep that left me silent.

  “You sound like a little kid, you know?” I muttered, pulling my wrist from his grip and sitting on the edge of the bed.

  “Is there another way I should have said it?” Theseus sat back on the bed behind me.

  “Did you need to say it at all?”

  “If I said nothing, you would have left. That is a far worse fate than sounding like a child.”

  I sighed and looked back at him. Seeing him laying against the headboard, he was relaxed, so at ease. “How many women have you said these romantic lines to?”

  “I am quite pleased you think they are romantic.” He smiled. “I simply thought they were the truth.”

  I can’t win. And he avoided the question very clearly.

  I moved to get up, but he quickly said, “Forgive me.” Which felt wrong because he didn’t technically do anything wrong. His sweetness, his flirtation was just different than I was used to.

  “Go to sleep already,” I muttered not looking at him, and instead, staring at the blank grey walls.

  “As you wish,” he whispered, shifting on the mattress.

  Then for the first time since we’d met, there was silence between us. It was so quick and sudden, I actually had to check to make sure he wasn’t teasing me again. However, he was really asleep. His body was completely still, no longer breathing, and just like the dead. A few strands of his dark hair fell over his eyes, and I actually had to clench my hands to keep from brushing them off his face.