Vicki

Vicki felt lighter than air, as if, if she suddenly wanted to, she could float off into the night sky. She didn't want to. She wanted to sink into the feeling of complete ease. She felt far away from her store, from Elara, and anything bad. She was in a good place. Her own little island somewhere where the sand was made of pearls and only the sound of swaying palm tree fronds and ocean waves surrounded her.

She was on a canopy bed that had billowy white cotton draped along its frame. She sighed with each crash of the waves, as if she and the world around her were meditating. She could get up, and play in the surf, she was naked, so she didn't have to worry about ruining her clothes. She didn't have to worry about anything.

She rolled on her side and snuggled into the cotton duvet. The horizon began to break, sending in streaks of color like sherbet. The sun followed, and as she sat up to watch it rise, she noticed a figure holding an umbrella just outside of the white canopy.

They came forward, sliding into bed with her. It was like he was a shadow, and even when he touched her, and was so close that their lips touched, she couldn't make out his features. The feeling of their hands gliding over her skin was familiar, and yet not. Whoever it was, Vicki didn't feel like pushing them away. She was getting lost the sensations and only wanted more.

They went to the ocean and kissed in the waves. The mystery man took her to shore to lay her in the gentle sea foam and pepper her with light kisses up the length of her body. He lingered under her chin and then again at her jaw. She smiled against him, not giving the realization that she had too much thought. She was too lost in the feelings and desire to want to think about the man too deeply.

But what she couldn't shake was the man's name.

***

Evan

Evan had carried one of his dining chairs into the loft and set it next to his bed. The witch was there, just a few feet away, still deep in her delirium. She would move every few minutes, making tiny sighs and moans as she did.

Evan bounced a book on his knee. He had tried to read, but it was too hard with the witch there. The noises she made were too damn distracting and the air too thick with her scent. She smelled better than the first day he met her, not just sweet, with a tantalizing spicy edge. Blood didn't smell like this, this potent, even when it were laden with adrenaline, alcohol, or disease.

He wanted to taste her. His fangs wanted to sink into her skin, so much that they had betrayed him and were already peeking over his lips. He got up from his chair and took the two and a half steps over to the bed. He leaned over, bringing his face just close enough to feel the heat coming off of her skin.

She turned her head, exposing her neck to him. His fangs lengthened further. This was it. The moment he was waiting for. The witch was here, alone, in her most delicious state, and would likely sleep through a feeding. He could drain her if he wanted to, and let her die in the midst of her fantasy.

She turned her head towards him and let out a breathy sigh that tickled his nose. Her eyes opened slightly, glowing violet. She smiled slightly and sighed again. Evan gently turned her head away.

He couldn't bear to look into her eyes. Why the hell was he shaking? She was thinking of that asshole Carter, she wasn't staring at him. He should just feed and be done with this witch once and for all. No more hanging around the store, wasting his money on stuffed animals, enduring conversation with that half-succubus Selene, or having to deal with the witch's quips about sunrise. He wouldn't need to feel shame anymore for wanting her. He could be done and just go.

He climbed into the bed to make himself comfortable and to get off his unsteady feet. He loomed over her, using his arms and legs to cage her against the bed. His heart was drumming against his ribcage, and he felt weak. Had he gotten that hungry without knowing?

The witch turned her head again and looked straight up at him with those half-lidded magical eyes. She isn't looking at me. He told himself.

The witch closed her eyes and let out a soft moan. Evan took a breath and lowered himself. His nose brushed the side of her face, and she turned her head away in response. It was if she were letting him get closer.

This is her own fault for not being careful. For letting that incubus take her, for still caring about him enough for her to get to this state. She would just be someone else's dinner anyway. I'm not doing anything wrong. She's just a witch.

He should be able to hear her heartbeat, being this close to her, but all he could hear was his own, as if it were beating back his thoughts.

"Evan," the witch whispered, her voice nothing more than another breathy sigh. Evan pulled back, thinking she had woken up, but her eyes were still closed with a smile still on her face. He stumbled off the bed and watched as the witch moaned and gripped the blanket she was on top of.

His fangs retreated, and he didn't know what to do. The hunger in his belly was gone, replaced by something else. Something that made him want to run outside and get fried by the sun. He grabbed the necklace on the nightstand and, not bothering to fiddle with the clasp, knotted it around her neck.

He rushed downstairs and found a bottle of bourbon in his kitchen. He skipped grabbing a glass, tilted the bottle back and gulped. What was happening to him? Was he afraid of her? No, that wasn't it. Gods, if only he and his brother were speaking, maybe he could ask him. He would know if Evan had contracted some kind of disease.

He went over to the shelves of books he kept next to his mounted TV. He searched high and low, picking up anything he had on magic. The witch was making more noise. Whatever she was doing in that dream, sounded passionate. He didn't know how to feel about it. Should he give himself a pat on the back? It sounded like whatever fantasy him was doing, he was doing it extremely well. He shook off the thought. For all he knew, she could be having sex on his corpse.

That would make more sense. Not even fantasy him would have intercourse with a witch. Then again, fantasy him probably didn't have an overbearing father, and probably wasn't a vampire at all. If that were the case, sex wouldn't be so bad, in fact it would be worthy of those moans upstairs, he'd make sure of it.

Of course, that'd never happen, not in his eternity. His dad would have his balls first.

Literally.

He sat on his couch with a few of the books and started searching for a possible clue as to what afflicted him. After leafing through three of the texts, he gave in and searched message boards on his phone that had all sorts of mixed results. The trouble with the internet was that half the underdwellers on it were just mortals who were role-playing. Evan found that his searches only triggered pages of online fiction, romance books, and cheesy porn. Gods, if only he had taken more books from the library back home.

Upstairs, he heard a loud thump and more knocking. He took the stairs three a time to find the witch on the floor flailing her arms and legs. He went to her side, endured her random hits, and picked her up. He pulled back his duvet and blanket and put her back into his bed. He tucked her in, but she continued to thrash, hitting herself in the head.

Evan felt like a knife had gone through him and been twisted. He got into bed alongside her and restrained her arms. She was whimpering, like a puppy left out in the cold. Tears gently flowed from her closed eyes. Evan wiped them away.

Selene said this would happen. This was normal. It didn't make him feel any better. She had spoken his name just a little while ago. Whatever was happening in her dream, was he the one doing it?

She began screaming. A piercing blood-curdling howl that made his blood boil. If he ever saw that incubus again, he'd tear it apart. He pulled the witch closer.

He kept his muscles strained around her as the night terror continued. At the same time, he fought off the urge to sleep. When she no longer needed him, he would go sleep on his couch downstairs. Until then, he wouldn't be able to sleep anyway.