-1To Feel the Night
The new crescent moon hung low in the mid-night sky, bounding evanescent beams of silver brilliance upon the glass and concrete barriers of the world below.
The vampire stood silently, content to watch the glittering lights of the city from the window of his West Hollywood high rise.
The neon glow of Los Angeles flickered and pulsed like the luminous glimmer of moon jellyfish smothered in the inky depths of Santa Monica Bay, battling the enveloping darkness. Daylight hours were dwindling now, with the arrival of a crisp fall wind, the world embraced the shadows of night like an anxious mother would her frightened child.
This city had a life of its own, a wicked heat that became all the more tangible in forgiving hours before the dawn. This was his world and he had learned to savor its wonders. At times, it had seemed almost bearable. Then, she came back into his life, a golden reminder of everything he had once loved and could never, ever be again.
Beth.
Mick St. John took a deep breath, running a trembling hand through his thick, collar length hair. It was a futile attempt to switch the off button in his head before he drove himself mad. Finding that switch had become harder since that day in the desert, when she literally saved his life.
Their connection had only grown stronger since then, and he found himself struggling to will her image from his mind almost every second he was awake. Mick's valiant attempts to avoid her had been successful so far, but tenacious Beth, wouldn't rest until she'd worn him down.
The space was necessary for her safety and his sanity. Vampires could not afford the luxury of vulnerability, and Beth was swiftly becoming his weakness.
Besides, this new profound sense of longing seemed to seep in and torment him at the most inopportune moments and he wanted to be rid of it. Best to go cold turkey.
Even lost in his own thoughts, Mick felt the change.
The crackling ripple in the air was so minuscule that only a vampire would detect it, but it was there all the same.
Mick pulled himself away from the window perch to pour himself a scotch, swirling the bouquet of amber liquid as he paced anxiously in the confinement of his loft.
Downing the shot in one quick motion he stood stone faced in front of the door, bracing himself for what he knew was coming.
Mick sensed her presence long before the soft tapping at the door. It was the third time in two days that she had been there, although this was the first time she'd actually knocked.
Leaning his forehead against the cool steel and oak, Mick hoped for the umpteenth time that he could find the strength to turn away. He could not open the door. He would not. He had to think of her. Pretending that she never existed would be a high price to pay for her safety, but that was the way it had to be. He had no choice. But even as the thought entered his mind, Mick recognized it for the lie that it was.
His resolve completely disintegrated when he heard her voice.
"Mick? I know you're there. It's me, Beth. Open up," she said.
He softly banged his head against the door, cursing himself for being so weak, finally opening it with a resigned sigh.
Mick greeted her with a tentative smile, hoping that he could keep their interlude to a minimum…it was just to hard to have her near him for any amount of time and not think about the monster within him.
Beth wasted no time with pleasantries, pushing her way past him without a backward glance.
"You just disappeared," she said turning to face him. "I've called at least ten times."
"I know, I…"
"You're trying to avoid me," she said crossing her arms over her chest.
"No I'm not," Mick rattled back, feigning innocence.
"Every day for a month, I can't cover a story without running into you or opening my front door to see you standing there and all of a sudden, you're just gone," she said sharply. "You don't take my calls. That's not avoidance?"
Mick sighed heavily and closed the door.
"What do you want from me Beth?"
"Answers," she said following him into the kitchen as he poured another drink. "We can start there."
"I have told you everything that there is to tell," he admitted softly, setting the scotch on the counter in front of her.
"Not everything," she said shaking her head emphatically. "Not nearly everything."
Mick pushed both hands into the pockets of his designer slacks and leaned against the marble countertop, striking a casual pose as he waited for Beth to sip the cocktail.
"What's this?" she asked bringing the glass to her nose and sniffing the liquor. "It smells like scotch tape. I don't want that."
"Drink it," he said.
"Why?" she asked wearily.
"Trust me Beth…I have a feeling this is going to be a long night."
And before it was over, they would both need a stiff drink.