Page 6 of Her Midnight Stalker

As I prowl through the streets, night becomes day - moon falls to sunrise. Time’s pull does not seem so pronounced when you’ve lived as long as I have, and sacrificing a mere night to your eternal partner hardly seems like a loss.

She cannot leave my sight. I must continue to observe and study her, leaving my word with her as my bond.

My colleagues believe I am out conducting an investigation for PEACE, and in truth, I am. This investigation is crucial to my health as a researcher and a detective. With my eternally damned soul in toil, I cannot focus on the tasks they need me for.

“Two dozen roses, please,” I say to the florist.

The moisture in the air of this store irritates my skin, and I feel itchy from the sunlight pouring onto my skin, brightly illuminating the air over the horizon. I will need to feed soon, if I plan to make my approach in the daylight.

She looks upon me oddly, standing before her in a hoodie and clearly hiding from the eyes of onlookers, but I correct it. I have learned to blend in seamlessly, but where that fails, a little hypnosis helps.

“Here you go!” She says joyfully, as though she never suspected me of being a vampire.

There are those among the human population who cling to old biases, and would gladly see me dead for what I am. Their willful ignorance is why I joined PEACE.

She hands me the roses and I walk back out the door. I will need to make haste if I’m going to beat the start of her shift. I want to behold her reaction at finding the amulet, so that I can confirm what I already know - what I’ve already ensured.

For good measure, I produce four ghost orchids and add them to the bouquet along with two selenes. I have been cultivating them for decades, and no occasion seems more appropriate than this.

I contract the services of a courier to bring her the roses, so that they will be at work when she arrives, and I arrive at her apartment. Even through the window, I can still sense the pulse of her heart, her blood flowing through her like nectar. It enraptures me, tainting my mind away from reason.

She is delicious. I can smell her from here, and it tempts me. But she is not a mere object to delight in or a series of tastes to savor. She is my destiny.

Her apartment door opens, and rain trickles down from the alleyway gutter beside me. I can watch her from far away without her knowledge. She will never know I’m here, but she will always sense me.

I can make sure of it.

The door disrupts the amulet, and she looks downward at the clatter of metal against wood. Her eyes dawn with recognition, and she falls captive to my spell, no hint of resistance. She picks the amulet up and turns it over in her hand, studying it, but there is no confusion on her face, as I feel my message echo in her mind.

She looks around her, surveying the streets for any signs of me, but I do not want to be found.

“And now you’re mine forever,” I whisper.

I can feel the monstrous presences within me stir, my shadow extending further onto the pavement. Dark thoughts fill my mind about all things I’d like to do to her- how I’d like to claim her for my own… taste her and never let go.

I silence them, but they grow louder in protest. They become me for a moment. I feel my irises filling with blood, turning red - my fangs extend, and my legs stir of their own accord, ready to pounce and take the woman I’ve sworn to safeguard for myself.

No, I say to myself. You will savor her blood in time. But right now, we wait. The anticipation will only make the taste sweeter.

Control returns to me, and I breathe deeper, looking upon her form as it saunters through these town streets.

When she turns to confront the sound of footsteps behind her, I am the dripping rain, or the passing cars. I am a figment of her imagination, as illusory and evasive as her shadow.

And I can sense from my place in her mind - the way I hang around her neck, and dangle and bounce with her every step - that even though she fears me, she is far too enticed by me to turn away. I claimed her as soon as I laid eyes on her - that pendant around her neck is merely a physical symbol of what we already know to be true.

She arrives at work under my protection - under my unwavering eye. The courier arrives exactly in the moment before she opens the bar door, flowers in his grasp.

“What’s this?” She asks, transfixed.

“He didn’t leave a message,” the courier says. “Only said to consider him ‘your silent guardian,’ whatever that means.”

She takes the flowers thoughtfully and begins her shift.

5

QUINN

Last night felt like some kind of strange nightmare. I was so certain somebody was watching me, following me home through the night.

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