Paul - Wolves Inc Office Building
I press a finger over the mouse. The screen wakes up, revealing a shit ton of emails and other official notifications. But not even the silence of my empty workplace can help me concentrate.
My mind goes wherever it wants, without any consideration for my duties. Two days have passed since that girl saved my life, and for whatever reason, I can’t stop thinking about her. Every time I close my eyes, I see her sleeping in my arms. I have to keep reminding myself she’s a strigoi, not just a beautiful woman.
Instead of reading those tedious emails, I watch the crowd rush from one location to another. Their noses buried in their phones and fingers typing away at tinted glass displays entertain me. Students carry bulkier backpacks that can hold books and binders, while others go about with little more than a set of headphones.
I scan the street in search of copper hair and interesting curves. Maybe she's there, stalking me. My breath stops the moment I think I might have caught a glimpse of her. Her wavy hair and swinging hips, like the wind, evaporate as soon as I pay more attention. My inner wolf growls.
Steady footsteps echo, and the door opens to reveal Cristian's smiling face.
“May I bother you for a moment?” he asks but doesn’t wait for my reply to enter.
He sits on the leather armchair, his right foot’s ankle over the other’s knee. A big smile covers his face as he opens the newspaper and reads it.
"Paul Mateescu, the best catch in all of Romania, hasn’t been seen having actual interest in any woman. His dates are scarce, and no lady has managed to get a second one. Some of the women who escorted him are said to be for hire. Sources say he might be gay."
Cristian rereads the paragraph a second time, punctuating the last part with cackles. He leans the page toward me, positioning it for me to see that the last word was fully capitalized. The title looms heavy over the paper: Paul, the Gay Bachelor! Sorry, girls!
My tongue clicks. "That is how the press operates, an intriguing title to increase sales. And that is a controversial newspaper. Nobody is going to believe it."
"As your advisor, my responsibility is to safeguard your image. People know you from the media, and their personal opinions can impact your business. Don’t get me wrong here. You can go for the gay stereotype, but you have to be stable. No one likes flimsy people who change their preferences like socks. You are your brand." Cristian folds the paper and places it on my desk. "I worked very hard to create the perfect bachelor picture in these last few years. Mind you, reporters aren’t easy to fool. Your face shows clear disinterest in the women you go out with."
“Then maybe you shouldn’t set me up with stupid and superfluous women.”
Christian’s shoulders sink and his smile vanishes. "When I look at you, I recall my buddy from university. I seem to remember that he was charming and quite the lady magnet. He got his hands on the most beautiful ones. He was the perfect image of the womanizer CEO, except for that last chick who made him pull the brakes on dating. And then the most coveted bachelor in Bucharest turned into a fucking monk." He sighs, trying to calm his increasing tone. "Look, I’m good at what I’m doing, but I’m no miracle worker. You have to show some interest in these girls. Be your previous self. I liked him. People liked him. Where is he? I think fear stands in the way of his return. Fear of being rejected? Or fear of feeling something again?"
He’s touching a soft spot that I don’t want to be pricked. “Stop fucking psychoanalyzing me! I’m your boss!”
“Sheesh!” he mocks. “And here I was thinking you were my friend.”
I rise from my chair and stuff my hands in my pockets while looking outside, my back to him. “Finding the one is a yearning as old as time itself, a heart-wrenching story that never ends, a song of love and lust. When the first notes start humming their seductive rhythm, everyone is helpless but to dance along. I no longer want to dance.” I turn to see if he gets it. “Capiche?”
“Oh, god.” He tilts his head to the side, pity in his eyes. “That girl really pulled a number on you.”
“Do you want me to throw you out?”
"Come on, you only have to be there with a stunning girl at the RBO party this weekend, not go all-out," Cristian says, his forest green puppy-dog eyes needier than ever. "Pretend you would like to devour her right then and there. You can return to your humdrum existence after the party. Deal? Pretty please!"
“Actually, I already have a plus one for this weekend. So mind your own business for once.”
"You are my business, lol!" He laughs, which irritates me even more. "Oh, please, no more frowning. Who is the girl? It's a girl, right?"
“Tsk, of course.”
“Oh, well.” Cristian gets up, arranging his tie. “You could have let me hope for a few days at least. You like to shatter my hopes.”
Right as Cristian exits the room, my cell phone rings. No peace and quiet for me today. Dan’s photo covers the screen as I swipe up.
"Paul, I did some digging and found no clues so far about the shooter. There is no specific scent in that area besides yours and the strigoi's. I think it was a human. If so, be wary at the party. This may be related to business and not supernatural."
“Don’t worry, Dan.” I lay my back on the comfy backrest. Unwillingly, I smile. “I’ll have my bulletproof vest with me tomorrow night.”
Laura - AliveThe world is teeming with life and sensations I couldn’t see before. The air itself sizzles with electricity, and my skin tingles under the sun’s warmth. My heart is beating so fast that I can hear its thumping in my ears. Oh, how good it is to be alive. But then again, what is death?It’s a void, a nothingness, the absence of everything.So even though death is the ultimate lack of all existence, isn’t it also a state where we are given a chance to start anew?I’m not sure what I expected, but the reality is better than anything I could have imagined. Every day is a new adventure, and I love every minute of my life, full of laughter, hugs, and kisses. I must admit, destiny has one hell of a way of playing tricks on a girl. When I was young and wanted to live, I died. When I was an abomination and wanted to die, I was born anew. Sometimes, nothing goes the way you want it to, but not always what you want is what you get. And maybe it’s for the best. I am free of my c
Paul - The Retezat MountainsAuburn leaves fall kissed by the cold winds. A cold mountain that still hasn’t welcomed winter. An owl hoots a few times and, as I pass, flies away, out of reach. I can feel the change in the air, now thick with the scent of incoming rain. The sky above the tree’s canopy is gathering heavy clouds, soon to be released in a torrent of droplets. The first few stars peeking through the dark gray curtains are a sign that I don’t have much time left to find Laura. I know I'm close. To her. And I know why she ran away, putting distance between us. Because I'm possessive and selfish, not wanting to give her what she needs. I can't give her what she wants without losing everything I love. And I love her. But it seems I'm doomed to lose her anyhow.I've lost so much time denying reality, turning a blind eye to the truth. "I'm coming, Laura," I whisper to myself. The trees seem to go on forever, the forest floor stretching into the distance. Laura is nowhere in s
The Gypsy Witch - Her hutMy nose scrunches. A sweet smell permeates the air, like a mixture of old spices and fresh herbs. There’s a slight vibration below my feet; the ground seems to shake with every step I take. Something will happen soon. Hehe! I should better ask the key. I reach into my pocket and take out the instrument of my favorite art. The key is a simple piece of metal for any ungifted person. But for me, it is a tool that can open the secrets of the future. I turn it over in my hand, feeling the smoothness of its surface. Cleidomancy is one of the most powerful and ancient forms of divination. It is the art of reading the future by observing the movements of a spellbound key. Some say the spirits of the dead are the ones who turn the key and direct the motion. Hehe!A witch never looks directly at the key. Instead, she always studies it from the corner of her eye, making sure she isn't seen peeking. Otherwise, the key won't move.My fingers are tingly as they seem to b
Laura - At homeI find myself lying on a bed of black velvet inside an empty room with no windows or doors. The walls are lined floor-to-ceiling with bookshelves, each filled from top to bottom. The books are all different sizes and shapes, but they all have the same purpose: to fill the emptiness inside me. “Because I’m hollow on the inside,” I whisper to myself. Under the blanket next to me, there is a figure wrapped in the same black velvet. I reach out and remove the cover, revealing an old man. His skin is wrinkled and pale, and his hair is entirely white. He looks as if he is sleeping. He slowly opens his eyes and looks at me. His hand comes up to touch my face but loses its vigor halfway through. “Are you real?” I ask him.He sighs, closing his eyes. Only a whisper of a breath escapes his lips. “Don’t be afraid, Laura. I’ll always love you.”“No!” I scream. “This can’t be real. This man can’t be Paul.”His strong features and soft gray eyes are the same. His voice is the sa
Alisa - Stryga Inc, her officeBefore entering my office, I stroll down a short hallway and pass my assistant’s desk. Official-looking diplomas and the like hang on the wall behind her. I catch a glimpse of FB reflected in one of them as she turns off her tablet and looks up at me. Does anyone even consider this company an actual workplace? Every employee is a glorified receptionist, and most of them dawdle their time away in front of their computers without doing any real work. When did I become the most diligent person around? “Good morning, Miss Cristescu,” she says, making a good show of turning toward her computer screen as if she has tons and tons of work to do. Her voice is light and cheerful enough, showing that she hasn’t noticed my mood today. Or that she couldn’t care less.If I were to say anything to her, I would fire her on the spot. But starting to dispose of the people who annoy me would leave me working all by myself. So I just nod and continue on my way. Sighing,
Laura - HomeFearing I could drop the puppy from my shaky hands, I slowly set him down on the floor. He immediately starts whimpering and wagging his tail, but I'm too scared to pick him up. I back away slowly, watching him from the corner of my eye as he scrambles to his feet. My legs feel like jelly, and I sit on the couch's edge. Several decades have passed since I've last seen Iustin, my maker. The night I met him was the night I died—the night I became a strigoi. I look at my shaking hands, remembering those times.He was the one who turned me into one of them, holding my dead body in his arms for three days and three nights, keeping my soul trapped inside and forbidding it from going to the other side. For a long time, I thought he lied to me about the process until I did the same to Alisa and turned her into a strigoi as well. He helped me escape the strigoi Council's tight grip, and I owe him my life if my life counts for anything. Iustin covered up my ability to read minds
Paul - At home“We’re leaving the day after tomorrow,” I announce to Dan, sitting in front of him at the kitchen table. “I’ve scheduled a week-long trip to a remote location I don’t want to disclose even to you. I’ve been careful not to go during a full moon. So you and Alin should be fine managing the pack while I’m away. Oh, and the phone signal might be lacking, so don’t try to call me.”“I see you made up your mind already.” Dan sighs. “I knew you would put Laura above all else, but this is too much. Give me at least an emergency contact number to reach you just in case.”“As you said, I’ve made up my mind.”“Fine.” Dan stands and begins pacing through the kitchen. “What about the company? I’m not particularly fond of the idea of taking on business decisions while you’re away.”“Oh, no need. I put Max in charge of the company during my absence.”“The shifter? Why would you do that? Do you trust him so much?”“He’s not doing me any favor. The bastard is charging me for his time and
Paul - At home The house I grew up in was always a little too quiet for my liking. Now, the same house is shifting from a place of memories into a cradle for Laura and me. She has brought most of her things to the house. Unwrapping the last of the boxes, she stares at a small album. She opens it and pulls out a picture. I wrap my arms around her from behind, resting my chin on her shoulder. Out of habit, I sniff her hair, inhaling her scent. “Why do you keep smelling my hair?” she asks, still looking at the photo. I lightly touch my lips to the spot where her neck meets her collarbone.“It is said that when two people are fated mates, their scent is like a fingerprint, a unique signature only the other can notice.” I pause to take another sniff. “For me, you smell like lilac flowers in the spring, and it’s driving me crazy.”I nuzzle her neck, breathing in her scent and letting it fill my lungs. Laura doesn’t answer. She sighs, and her fingers shake over a black and white photog
Laura - At homeDays pass quicker when immortality doesn’t seem like a useless burden. My condition hasn't improved. I am still an immortal strigoi, so basically just another girl in the world, with a few oddities.I fill my time with the things I love most: reading and Paul. He keeps at bay all the pessimistic tendencies that make me want to run away from reality. I know he will one day die. The thought still nibs at the back of my head and sometimes feels unbearable, but I don’t want to give up his company. He gives me hope, and even though we only have a few decades together, I'll make every second count.His presence is a gift to my soul. Even now, when he works in the bedroom while I read a book on the veranda bench, I feel peaceful. Just knowing he is there makes me happy. When we’re closer, things tend to get wild. We share a passion for each other and want to explore every inch of the other. We never get tired of being together. The slightest brush of his skin against mine