C h r i s t i e

Jacques was holding me like I'd just survived some terrible ordeal, but I wasn't hurt. The man hadn't even come near me. I wanted to tell him I was fine, but the words stuck in my throat. His fingers threaded through my hair—comforting, steady, a little possessive—and my heart fluttered wildly.

Tentatively, I rested my hands against his chest. His muscles tensed beneath my touch, and I wondered if he could hear the erratic thud of my heart. The embrace lasted only a moment before we stepped apart, both suddenly aware of the old man watching us from the doorway.

The old man stepped outside, hitching up his pants. "I called the cops," he said, jerking his chin toward the groaning figure still crumpled on the pavement. "You best get movin' before they show. They'll want to know who snapped that boy's arm."

Jacques nodded, his hand slipping into mine as he led me back to the car.

Behind us, a voice called out—sharp, tired, but with a country lilt.

"Hey! Y'all headin' west? Toward the next town?"

We turned. Crystal stood at the edge of the lot.

Jacques glanced at me, then gave a crooked smile. "Maybe this is destiny calling," he murmured, before turning back to her. "Sure. We'll give you a ride."

We left the gas station and followed her directions down an empty stretch of road. Crystal was fascinating to watch. A real human sat in front of me—utterly ordinary in a way that felt extraordinary. Her movements were loose, unguarded. She hummed tunelessly as she adjusted her makeup in the visor mirror, swiping on bright red lipstick that clashed against the purple bloom of a bruise on her cheek.

Her pulse was steady, rhythmic. But I wasn't tempted. I'd already fed.

Still, I was captivated. She was unlike anyone I'd ever known—vivid and earthy and alive. Her voice had a thick, rolling cadence that took me a few moments to follow. She chatted freely with Jacques, telling him about her four brothers, a string of no-good exes, and how she didn't "need no man lookin' after her," even as she sat in the car of one.

Jacques played along easily, his laugh warm, his smile easy—but I could feel him watching me through the rearview mirror. His attention kept drifting back to me.

As the night bled into morning, the mist began to lift and the sun crept over the horizon. A single ray broke through the trees, slicing through the window and landing on my face.

The ache hit immediately—sharp and needling behind my eyes. I flinched and raised my arm, trying to shield myself.

This was my first true encounter with sunlight. It didn't burn like the stories said, but it hurt—a relentless throb that crawled under my skin and settled in my bones. Not fatal. Just... cruel.

The light flickered through the trees, strobing against the glass. I shifted in my seat, squinting, but nothing helped. I wasn't built for this. Vampires belonged to shadow, to moonlight—not this sharp, golden glare.

Jacques noticed. His focus left Crystal mid-sentence. I felt him watching me.

The car slowed, then stopped without warning. Crystal turned to him, brows knitting. "Everything alright?"

Jacques didn't answer. He got out and walked around the car.

I blinked up at him as he opened the passenger door, the world blurred at the edges. Then—relief. He slipped a pair of sunglasses gently onto my face. The pressure in my head eased instantly, and I exhaled.

He leaned close, voice low against my ear. "Hold on."

His breath was warm, laced with leather and mint. His nearness stole mine.

I nodded, mute.

He smiled—quiet and pleased—then returned to his seat.

Crystal squinted after him. "What was that about?"

"Just had to take care of something," Jacques said, already pulling back onto the road.

I leaned into the seat, letting the tinted lenses dull the sun's sharp edges. But I didn't stop watching Crystal. My instincts stayed alert—muted, but not gone.

We drove through the mountains as dawn broke fully around us. Eventually, we reached a town nestled between the trees. A faded sign welcomed us to Deep Mist Falls.

Decay touched everything—the paint peeling from houses, the sagging porches, the empty shopfronts dulled with dust. Even the welcome sign looked weary, its cheerful script faded to a ghost of itself.

Crystal sighed and ran a hand through her tangled hair. For the first time, her breezy demeanor cracked.

She didn't want to be back.

"How long have you lived here?" I asked.

Crystal twisted in her seat to face me, her movements slow and loose. Sunlight streamed through the windshield, catching on her face and highlighting the thick layer of makeup that had begun to smear. Smudged mascara shadowed her eyes, and sweat streaked the edges of her foundation. She looked completely different in the daylight—under the moon, she'd seemed flawless, almost ethereal. Now, her skin was like a faded painting, worn and weathered from a hard night of partying.

She sighed heavily. "I've lived here since I was six months old. My folks came out here for work back when the factories were still up and runnin'. Kept the town goin' for a while." Her gaze drifted toward the window, watching the run-down buildings crawl past. "But then the economy tanked, and the plants started shuttin' down. Now there's just the paper mill left."

She paused, her expression flattening.

"Most folks packed up and left. If I had a lick of sense, I'd do the same. My cousin Cherry ran off to the city years ago. Ain't never looked back."

"So why haven't you?" I asked.

She gave a half-shrug, lips twitching into a bitter ghost of a smile. "Takes money to leave. And my job barely covers rent, much less a fresh start."

"What do you do?" I asked, already catching the subtle shift in her pulse.

Her eyes dipped. That flicker of shame—so brief and human—echoed in the steady rhythm of her heart.

"I'm a hostess at my aunt's bar," she said eventually, voice dry. "It ain't glamorous, but it pays. Most nights, anyway."

"Do you like it?" I asked, though I already knew the answer.

She laughed once, low and humorless. "It's a job. Who actually likes their job?"

We were driving deeper into town now, and life was slowly reappearing in the streets—if you could call it life. People shuffled past with hunched shoulders and hollowed eyes. Cars sat slumped along the curbs, rust crawling up their sides like ivy. The air smelled faintly of motor oil and damp timber. Somewhere, a dog barked. No one reacted.

Their pulses were everywhere. Thudding faintly in my ears like a low, distant drumbeat. Vampires who lived among humans long enough learned to drown it out. But for me, it was still loud. Still intimate. Still overwhelming.

My gaze drifted to Crystal's neck. A single blue vein pulsed faintly beneath her skin. Her blood moved with quiet rhythm, unhurried and warm.

I clenched my hands into fists, my nails digging into my palms.

"Christie!" Jacques' voice cut through the haze—sharp, grounding.

I flinched, blinking fast. "Sorry. I... I wasn't paying attention."

His eyes softened, though his voice stayed firm. "We're almost at the hotel."

"Great," I muttered, forcing my hands to relax.

Crystal swept her hair up into a messy bun, her neck now fully exposed. "Bet you can't wait to get a shower and somethin' hot to eat," she said with a smile, completely unaware.

I nodded, jaw tight. The sunglasses shielded my expression, but Jacques didn't miss the tension rolling off me. I felt him shift, his attention splitting between the road and keeping Crystal distracted.

I stared out the window, letting the scenery blur. Cracked pavement, drooping telephone wires, sagging porch swings — every part of this place whispered of things worn down and left behind.

"How long y'all plannin' on stayin' here?" Crystal asked Jacques, her voice light, casual.

"A while," he said. "Any work around here?"

She glanced at me, then back to him. "Diner's hirin' for waitstaff, if you don't mind shitty hours and low tips."

I barely heard her. I nodded vaguely, letting the sunglasses hide the intensity building behind my eyes. Crystal gestured, pointing Jacques toward a small parking lot beside a squat building with flaking paint and faded lettering.

As we pulled in, Jacques parked but didn't move right away.

He waited until Crystal stepped out of the car, then turned to me, voice low. "Just stay here. Don't get out. Okay?"

I nodded. "Okay."

He paused a second longer, searching my face for something—I wasn't sure what—before he slipped out and closed the door gently behind him.

I leaned back into the seat, shutting my eyes. The sunglasses helped, but they didn't block out the world. The sunlight still pressed against my skin. The air still smelled of oil and wet leaves. The town pulsed around me like a heartbeat I couldn't ignore.

I inhaled deeply, letting the scent of Jacques' scent linger in my nose. And then I did the only thing I could.

I waited.