Page 8 of Her Midnight Stalker

I turn, and to my disappointment, the figure I find staring at me is a boy, not a man. I think I’ve seen him around the bar a few times. I realize now that he’s a delivery driver, and he’s holding a bundle of flowers in every conceivable color.

“What’s this?” I ask.

I’m afraid he’ll tell me he’s my secret admirer, and I’ll have to worry about rejecting him. But I don’t see any love in his eyes - there’s not even the faintest sparkle of life or familiarity.

He’s here to perform a service. It’s nothing more than that.

“He didn’t really leave a message,” the delivery driver says, handing me the flowers. “Only said to consider him ‘your silent guardian,’ whatever that means.”

I take the flowers and thank the man. He looks like he wants some kind of explanation for this delivery job, but I have no answers to give him.

I look around me one more time, and I feel the necklace resonate with power. I can feel his presence nearby.

I cannot show fear, under any circumstances. I try to slow my breathing, and take stock of myself, still torn apart by contradictory emotions of fear and love… safety and danger… excitement and terror.

But I also can’t scare this guy - or this creature, or whatever it may be - away without first getting answers.

So as I enter the bar, the first task on my mind, to the abject curiosity of my coworkers, is to get these flowers in water. Some of these flowers seem incredibly rare, and that just makes the mystery of my suitor all the more interesting.

6

CASPIAN

Acreature such as myself should not feel such joy on the prowl of a mere mortal like Quinn, but her every reaction is intoxicating to me. She continues to wear the amulet despite an obvious obliviousness to its importance, which fills me with immense pride.

I know what my betters would say, dull as they are. There are plenty in my life who think this game we’re playing is unnatural. They would tell me that this chase is frivolous and dangerous, and that I jeopardize relations between our kind and humans by continuing to entice my prey with lavish gifts.

But Quinn has a thing for flowers, and if I have the capacity to make a human happy with my resources, why shouldn’t I? I’ve followed her to the botanical gardens in town and seen her fascination with corpse flowers. I’ve seen how strongly she regards the flowers I gifted her, taking care especially of the rare flowers I plucked from my garden.

In an ironic twist, parts of the bouquet I’m now gathering are pollinated by bats, which is a small reason why they’re so rare. Of course, when you can compel bats to your service, growing jade vines in your greenhouses isn’t quite so difficult.

“She’s going to love that,” I say to myself, a twisted smile starting to take form.

I create an arrangement of a lady’s slipper orchid and jade vines, using my superior aesthetic senses. I can already see the joy on her face when she beholds this.

Some women have simple floral tastes, which is part of why I gave her a variety of flowers last time. But seeing how she cherished the rarer, more unusual flowers, I know that what I’m gifting her will not be neglected.

“Give it to her just like that,” I tell the courier. “I’m sure, if you mention that it grows better in greenhouses, she’ll know what to do with it.”

“Do you want me to leave any other message this time? Maybe a name?” The courier asks. “She’s seemed kind of weirded out at just getting flowers like this out of nowhere.”

“No,” I insist.

He cups his forehead, looking down at the floral arrangement.

“We specialize in parcels, and technically, we’re not supposed to deliver plants or animals like this,” he says.

“I understand that,” I reply. “Not exactly bustling though lately, are we?”

I look around at the empty business. I’m sure a delivery service like his struggles with the rise of big competitors like the postal service and Amazon.

I hand him an extra hundred for his trouble, and he delivers it as requested, to the utter joy of my thrall. I can tell through simple observation how much she loves the arrangement. It almost gives meaning to my otherwise hollow existence, and the thrill of it enlivens me.

But happiness to a vampire always creates a duality. The monstrous presence within us stirs to life with every rush of dopamine, every ounce of joy we obtain.

To bring satisfaction to a human such as Quinn - to continue to tempt her with gifts, chasing her with mysteries and unnatural questions. I am, in a sense, endangering her.

But I cannot and will not stop.

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