I’m edging closer to the idea of striking out on my own, at least for a while. Annie’s the only one welcome to join me, at this moment, and I’m sure she would. Feeling the need to break more than one pattern tonight, I dig out a black pencil skirt to go with my sky high, black Mary Jane’s, and silky, black t-shirt. I leave my hair down, then head out into the jungle-like heat of this Savannah night.
I’m greeted on the street by the usual sounds of cars, mixed with people laughing and talking in Forsyth Park. The creamy white gardenias are in bloom. The sweet fragrance follows me down the sidewalk. The news vans moved on, the media being a fickle beast. Deciding the soft sounds of the fountain would be heavenly, I walk into the park, finding a nearby bench.
There are a few tourists dotted around. I people watch for a bit. After a few minutes of trying to guess where people are from, I hear a familiar voice, not far away. A voice which makes me cringe. Turning my head, I see Timothy Woods, the movie star. He’s chatting with a very young, very gorgeous woman. I should say he is chatting at her, because he doesn’t stop to take a breath for a full five minutes. I can’t hear what he’s saying, but I’m sure he is the star of his story. He doesn’t seem at all sad, given recent events.
Finally, it seems he has exhausted his lung capacity and shuts up. The woman is smiling ear-to-ear, clearly star struck. Poor thing. Before I know it, he has her pushed against the gate surrounding the fountain and gropes her in a very inappropriate manner. My blood boils, but I stay where I am, waiting for her reaction. It’s negative. I clearly hear her say, “You hurt me,” as she tries to push him back.
I’m up in a heartbeat, walking over, trying to keep my preternatural speed under control. It sounds like he’s trying to talk her into something, because I hear him say, “Come on,” twice.
“Timothy,” I say, loud and clear.
He immediately backs up, sticking his hands in his pockets, looking my way. His megawatt smile loses its strength by about fifty percent.
When I stop, just in front of them, he weakly says, “Hey…you.”
“You don’t remember me? We just met.”
“Of course, I remember you. You’re the chick who lives in that big house over there,” he says, pointing in the wrong direction, but at least he’s looking me in the eye, this time.
“Yep, I’m that chick. It’s Millicent.”
“I know, I know. How are you, tonight?”
“Oh, I’m great. How are you and your friend?”
I turn toward the woman who is pretty clearly looking for an exit, her eyes are darting all over the park.
“We’re great,” says Timothy.
“Are you great?” I ask the woman.
“No, not really,” she answers.
“Let’s get you a ride home.” I pull out my phone.
“I don’t think that’s necessary, I can get her home,” offers Timothy.
“That’s not happening. Besides, I’m all done. Your ride should be pulling up right over there in about two minutes. On me,” I say, then gesture toward the southwest corner of the park.
“Thank you, really,” she says, without so much as a glance toward Timothy.
Timothy lets out an annoyed sigh, after she walks away, “Why did you do that? We were fine.”
“She was most definitely, not fine. I don’t like bullies, and I especially don’t like men who prey on women.”
“What? Please, I’m no predator.” He leans against the gate.
“Right, and I’m short,” I pause, interested in something else. “How are you doing with the loss of your friend?”
“Kathryn? Fine, we weren’t really friends. Just coworkers, I guess.” He shrugs his shoulders.
“Most human beings would still be upset over the loss of a coworker,” I point out, my hands on my hips.
“Sure. I’m sad, of course. Kathryn was hot, total waste.”
I itch to take this guy out, pure scumbag. Once again, his eyes roam all over my body.
“What are you doing, tonight?”
“I’m busy. But, I have a feeling you’ll be seeing me again, sooner than you think.”
“Ok, that’s a funny thing to say. How’s your friend, the one with the big…smile?”
If he hadn’t had the sense to change the course of that question, I would have laid him out, right here. Witnesses be damned.
“Timothy, you are one disgusting waste of space.”
I turn on my heel, walking back toward home. Timothy yells an expletive at me. I don’t bother to turn around. Get it all out of your system now, I think, your days are numbered. If my encounter with this jerk has given me anything, it’s another name for my suspect list. Not that I’m really making a list, or investigating, but it would be nice if the police found Kathryn’s killer. The spotlight would be lifted from my family, and the killer would be behind bars, unable to hurt anyone again.
I come to a stop in front of my house, considering something. Could I find the killer if I opened myself up and looked around? This is how I find the majority of my meals.
I can sense an unclean soul, but I can’t see what they’ve actually done until I’m drinking from them. I figure it can’t hurt to try, so I stand there on the sidewalk in the light from the streetlamp. I close my eyes, opening myself up to evil. After a few minutes, I close up the floodgates. It’s not working. This only serves as a reminder that there are a lot of nasty people out there. I feel sad, disoriented for a moment, before reminding myself the good in the world really does outweigh the bad.
“What are you doing? Have you gone catatonic?” Annie’s bright voice calls down from the porch.
Laughing, I say, “No, I was trying something. It didn’t work.”
We stay outside, sitting in our much-loved rocking chairs.
“I met our favorite film star in the park, a few minutes ago.”
“Is it the guy who couldn’t stop staring at my breasts?” Annie rocks, one leg crossed over the other.
“The very same. He was assaulting a woman.”
She abruptly stops rocking. “Tell me you ripped out his beating heart and ate it?”
“Oh, I plan to. Want to join me?” Annie starts to get up, but I put out my hand to halt her. “Not right now. Believe me, it was hard to hold back, but I think it’s best if we wait until he’s out of Savannah. I was thinking we should visit him at his home, one night soon.”
Annie grunts in disappointment and resumes her seat. “I guess you’re right. Fine. What were you doing on the sidewalk just now?”
I tell her of my idea to try to find Kathryn’s killer.
“But, it didn’t work. I was actually thinking Timothy would make a good suspect, but I can’t know unless I drink from him.”
“So, why didn’t you? Hello?” She taps her head.
“I can’t believe I didn’t think to do that. I blame it on being distracted.” I start tapping my foot, then stop, thinking of Jack.
“We still can, come on.” Annie takes off down the porch steps and I follow, hot on her heels.
“I hope he’s still there,” I say to the back of her head.
“He can’t have gone far, we’ll find him.”
I’m very adept at running in my stilettos. In no time, we are in the park, nearing the fountain. He’s not there. Annie jogs around the water feature, as I scan the surrounding area.
“There!” I shout, pointing to the entrance of the park. “He’s getting into a car.”
“You stay here, I got this,” Annie says.
A couple of people in the park are watching us like we’re crazy. I move out of the way behind a tree, so Timothy, and these tourists, can’t see me. After a couple of minutes, I hear Annie’s laughter, much softer than usual. She’s trying to keep a low profile. She walks with Timothy, then pushes his back into the same tree I’m hiding behind. They are just out of view from the handful of people around the fountain.
“Hey there, gently,” he says. I want to puke.
“Mills, come here,” Annie whispers.
I walk around to where she has Timothy mesmerized, leaning against the tree trunk.
“Let me do it,” I say, right before sinking my teeth into his flesh. I drink for as long as it takes to see what’s inside this guy’s head.
When I finish, I step back and say, “Unclean soul, but not a murderer. We’ll deal with him soon enough.”
Annie knees him in the groin, leaving him crumpled in a heap at the base of the tree.
“He’ll feel that when he wakes up,” she says, throwing me a high five.
“Do you think we know enough about Alexandre and what we are?” I muse on the way home.
“I feel like I know enough, although I wonder if there is more to us. I know relatively little about Alexandre, considering.”
“I know nothing about his history, before me. Whenever I ask, he just brushes me off with some non-committal answer, or another,” I say.
“Me, too. I’ve always been curious, though. I wonder if something awful happened in his past, and he just doesn’t care to relive it.”
“Possibly. It would be nice to at least know what his origin is. Where is he from, who made him, and is that vampire still living? I don’t see why it’s so hard to talk about.”
“Maybe for him, it is. Where do you think he’s from?” Annie asks.
“When he first came to me in my dreams, I thought of him as the Roman God, Jupiter. Now and then, I refer to him as Poseidon. My feeling has always been Alexandre is either Ancient Greek or Roman.”
“Definitely, Roman,” decides Annie. “He has that Caesar look and bearing.”
“Oh, god. Do not call him Caesar to his face. It’s bad enough that he gets the Jupiter and Poseidon thing from me. His ego is inflated enough.”
We both have a laugh, at the expense of our maker.
“I guess it is strange that we know nothing about his life pre-Millicent. I haven’t known many other immortals, but now that I think about it, I’m pretty sure they’re origins were not a secret. Makes me think he’s hiding something, but what?” wonders Annie.
“My thoughts, exactly. On the other hand, nothing has come back to haunt him in the two hundred forty plus years I’ve been with him.”
“Am I awful, because I’ve never been too interested?” asks Annie.
“No, you’ve always had your own things going on. I have been with Alexandre almost non-stop, I should know more. Whenever I have asked him a question about his past, he brushes me off, and I just let it go. Maybe I should have been more insistent.”
“I’ve been telling you to be more insistent for how long?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Forever.” I give my friend a playful push.
“He’s been so odd, lately. I hope we can all weather this storm,” I add.
“Only time will tell, my friend,” says Annie.
“No truer words were ever spoken.”
“By the way, with all this stuff going on, I’ve forgotten to ask how things are with Jack. Anything new?”
“You could say there have been new developments…I told him everything. Everything about what I am, and everything about my past. Good call on the arm cutting idea, worked like a charm.”
Annie pulls me to a stop, her mouth gaping open. “And? I can’t believe it. What did he do?”
“He freaked out and bolted. Haven’t heard from him since.”
“Oh, Mills. I’m sorry. Just give him some time, he’ll come around. How could he not?”
“Like you said before, only time will tell.”