Page 8 of Illuminated

“Is that a question?”

He licked his lips. “Not at all. It’s your turn.”

“How old are you?”

“Ah. This one always makes people’s minds go all looped and twisted. I was born in 491. It’s rare to know this so exactly, but I even know the date.” He leaned back in his chair. “You see, my mother was a witch. She had been taught to write and read, and she had read all the things she could get her hands on. She was also a searcher of magic, and she had found it. But that is a different tale. So should we round it to about one-and-a-half thousand years? Is that number grand enough?”

I didn’t know what to say. The things he would have seen, the people he would have met. “How is that even possible?”

He leaned forward. “Ethan, it is my turn, and you are cheating again. But since you seem to really want to know, magic and vampirism make it possible.” He shrugged. “My turn. If you could have one wish -- just one, but anything at all -- what would you wish for?”

That one stumped me. There were so many things that I wanted -- my ex’s new boyfriend to develop a terrible case of the bubonic plague for example -- but… “I’d want to redo a conversation.”

I drank more wine, the whole glass, letting the velvety flavor soothe me. Auris silently refilled it, and I took another sip of that too. The wine was heavy and rich and earthy. It also went to my head quickly.

I looked up at him from my glass. It was possible he was waiting for me to elaborate, or he was just staring. But no, this wasn’t staring. This wasn’t uncomfortable. His eyes were uncanny, but they didn’t scare me. For some reason, I wondered what those red lips would taste like, what it would feel like if he kissed me.

My body tingled with heat. I didn’t understand why the fear I knew rationally I should feel didn’t seem all that urgent to me.

He opened his mouth, but I didn’t let him speak.

“Excuse me,” I said, and headed to the men’s room. The short hallway was just a few steps from the table he had chosen. It was too close to slip out another way, and I… I was no longer sure I wanted to slip away and run.

At the same time, I had no idea what I wanted.

I pushed the green lacquered door open and found behind it a bathroom just as lush as the restaurant with the fine lamps and neat tablecloths and good wine.

It was bright and clean here and smelled of lavender. Gray tiles lined half the walls, and above them, dark red paint dominated the room.

I stepped in front of a urinal and did my business before I went to one of the sinks, turned on the water, and washed my hands. The wall above the sinks was mirror-lined, and I bent down, splashed water in my face. Maybe I was in shock and couldn’t process everything that had happened, and maybe what I’d been thinking had happened really hadn’t.

But no, as I rinsed my face with cold water, I knew I wasn’t losing my mind, and I wouldn’t be able to trick myself into thinking that.

Behind me, I could hear the bathroom door. In the mirror, I saw Auris, his long hair a perfect black, his suit -- had he really been wearing a suit in the church? -- also black and perfectly tailored, though I saw traces of dust on it, and on his back, hidden by his hair, just a glimpse of torn fabric. Yet, the knot of his black tie was straight and tidy, as if he’d made sure of that before walking through the door.

“You’re not seriously telling me your vampire illusion mojo is making you wear a tie,” I said.

He found my eyes in the mirror. Very slowly, deliberately, he approached me. He brushed my hair with his hand, wiped some water off my chin.

“I was dressed properly when they caught me earlier in the day. You may not have seen, back in the church. Mirrors can help shatter the illusion, to a degree.” He reached for my hand, ignoring the fact it was still wet. “You can feel it. Close your eyes. Seeing will distract you.”

I let my eyes fall shut. There was only the still running water, but that automatically turned off after a few more seconds, and then it was just his warm hand, placing mine on the knotted fabric at the top of his breastbone.

“That’s a Windsor knot, isn’t it?” I asked, unimpressed.

“Yes.”

His breath ran over my face, and I opened my eyes only to find him maybe a hand’s breadth away from my face. His eyes were so dark. I didn’t understand how they could be so dark. He leaned in closer, never even blinking.

“May I?”

“May you what?”

“Kiss you, Ethan.”

“Why?”

That made him lift his eyebrows and smile at me. “Because I’d really like to kiss you. Is there ever another reason?”

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