Chapter 2 Part 1

Charlie

An ever growing lump in my throat blocks any words that I would want to speak. Yet, after several swallows the blockage doesn’t seem to waver, making my voice croak. “Can I help you?” The dark entryway and living room only make me more terrified. All this large open space is causing my imagination to run wild, wondering what’s hiding in those dark corners even though I know the trespasser is outside.

I always considered myself a strong independent woman who would never be considered one of those stupid girls found in horror films who runs upstairs, putting themselves into a spot they’re unable to get out of. However, asking a stranger who’s on my doorstep in the extremely early hours of the morning—who I think is stalking me—if I can help him is falling right into the role of that oblivious girl. All I need now is for him to pound his hands on the door that is mere inches away from my face to scare the wits out of me even more.

His deep, smooth voice shatters the image of a knife slicing through the wooden divider from my thoughts. “Charlie, I was wondering if we could talk. I have something very interesting to tell you.” The calmness in his words is completely opposite to the manic frenzy of my nerves.

“How do you know my name?” Without warning my vision begins to get clouded with blackness as fear boils up. Like hell I’m going to believe that ‘I’m not going to hurt you’ malarkey. The air that was starting to feel warm from fear suddenly gets icy. I can’t stand near the door any longer. I can’t be so close to him intentionally.

Taking a few large steps backward only to retake those very steps back to the door, I wait for him to reply. The outrageous thing is that I find myself anxious as to what ludicrous words he’s going to say next.

“I have exceptionally good hearing. You recognize me from the club, right?”

“Yes.” Too many emotions become overwhelming. People with all these emotions at once break and when no response is spoken, I crumble.

Taking a chance to look through the peephole once more with prayers chanting inside my head that he’s gone due to the silence are crushed when I line my eyeball up to the small round glass peephole. His face nearly fills the entire view as he casually waits. Stumbling away from the door, I almost crash to the ground. A corner from the console table in the entryway jabs me in the back, forcing a grunt of pain to gush out from between my lips. With all this fear pumping large amounts of adrenaline into my veins, the pain lacks significance.

“Charlie? Charlie, are you okay? I heard a crash…Charlie?” Concern thickens his voice.

Trying to gather as much of my composure as possible, I flatten my sleep shirt and pat my hair as if someone were watching. Embarrassment makes my cheeks flush. “Why don’t you just leave and come back in the morning?” I holler at the door that’s still several feet away from me.

“I can’t. I mean I could, but mornings really don’t work for me. I’m not going to hurt you if that’s what you’re implying. Take a look one more time. No weapons, my hands raised in surrender. I just wanted to talk to you for once, that’s all.”

One foot gradually follows the other, leading me to the front door. For some reason, no matter how fearful of him and beyond spooked that he mysteriously shows up on my doorstep, needing to look at him is at the top of my list. Needing to physically see him in surrender on my porch seems comical, almost masking the impending doom I felt earlier.

With shaky hands holding my body close to the door, but without touching it, I view him just like he stated. Hands raised in the air, no weapons in sight, and from the look of his T-shirt and jeans there’s not a lot of room to hide a weapon anyways. But, my eyes are drawn to his right hand, which clenches my shoes that I dropped in the parking lot. It wasn’t my imagination, he really was there…lingering. He waves ever so slightly and smiles, taking a few extra steps backward, allowing his entire body to be seen in the small opening.

Just about to take my eyes away from him in disgust, the unexpected happens. The porch steps behind him get closer and before he stops himself and before I can let out a squeal of warning, he topples down the front steps. All serial killer thoughts aside, I hurriedly unlock the door, bolting out onto the porch in efforts to see if my unwelcome visitor is okay. The last thing I want to do is accompany him to the hospital and I’m pretty sure the last thing he wants is for me to call an ambulance, which leads to the police.

However, once the bottom landing comes into view, I spot him sitting comfortably on the ground, waiting peacefully. My jaw drops in disbelief, but soon my shocked expression turns into a scowl. “You tricked me. You…you…” There were words I wanted to say, but my brain fought to pick the right one. I turn my body rigidly toward the front door, stomping back into the safe confines of my home unable to speak any of the insults.

“I didn’t mean to, it’s just that I want to talk to you,” the stranger pleads, racing to the door before it has a chance to close. “It’ll only take a few minutes of your night,” he begs with his hand pressing against the door in efforts of keeping it open.

As he stands in front of me, I look at him, really look at him for the first time with all distance among us and the divider gone. Seeing him in the club is entirely different than seeing him here in the open night sky. The moonlight makes him look even paler. In contrast to his very ivory skin, his brown eyes and hair almost look black.

My eyes go from his face to his hand that’s pushing against the door. I give him an evil glare in hopes that he’ll get the hint and move all while my brain tells me to just slam the door in his face.

“Let me in, Charlie.” His eyes bore into mine. He either is ignoring my anger or he’s just too stupid to see it.

My hard stance goes limp as my tight grip on the doorknob loosens and my shoulders deflate. It’s as if all the motivation and stubbornness that I hold so dear vanishes. He doesn’t waste a second before he pushes the door wide enough for him to fit through before he quickly closes it behind him. Almost in a trance-like state, unable to command my body to move, I allow him to guide me into the living room.

The pitch black room doesn’t hinder his approach to the sofa that he sets me carefully on, whereas I nearly run into the furniture that fills the room. Sitting himself next to me on the cushions, he twists his arm back to flick on a nearby table lamp, partially filling the room with light. No matter how many times he looks away from me, I continue to stare at him, enthralled by something.

Not once do I break contact with him, be it looking into his eyes or touching his hand. Eagerly waiting for him to continue, I intentionally move myself closer to him. There’s no care in the world and nothing he can say can make this serene moment fade away. I’m not going to ruin it and I’m sure he’s not capable of ruining it either.

He drops my heels on the floor by the foot of the couch before speaking. “Charlie, there’s something important I have to tell you.” His serious tone should worry me, but all it does is make me more curious.

Similar to an eager child, my head bobs up and down. Wide eyes, hair flying from the force of my head shaking, and teeth biting the corner of my lower lip show him just how I’m hanging on each and every word that exits his mouth. His voice causes my mind to turn to mush and I’m okay with that, I’m okay with not thinking but feeling. Silently, wish after wish floods the heavens, requesting for me to be able to listen to him talk all night, to be able to stare at him all night. Holding his hand tightly in my grip, all I can do is wait for him to explain.

His deep, raspy voice turns my legs into jello. “I’ve been watching you for some time now, Charlie. Waiting…” His free hand rises to my face as if to touch my cheek, but he doesn’t. “I’m just going to say this and I want you to keep an open mind. Okay?” He waits for a response.

I nod my head, unable to find words.

He breaks the news as bluntly as one can. “I’m a vampire and you’re my human.”

What the hell did he just say? And just like the snap of one’s fingers, the trance I’m in breaks instantly at his preposterous words. All those happy thoughts become insane and I turn red at such outrageous feelings. My hand that’s clenching his now goes lifeless and his hold is the one to tighten as I try yanking the trapped hand out of his grasp. “Vampire? You’re crazy, like seriously messed up in the head.” My finally free index finger jabs my temple to further amplify the point made.

Scanning the floor, I try to recall my steps into the living room, let alone him accompanying me. However, no recollection of the events comes. Anxiety attacks my stomach and bile threatens to make an exit. “How the hell did you get in here?”

“That’s not important. It’s something special. Listen, Charlie, I know it sounds crazy, but it’s true. Let me explain. You were born into a bloodline that belongs to me. You were born for me, Charlie.” He gently places his hand on my knee.

Even through my pajama bottoms, my skin crawls from the gesture. How things change dramatically, considering mere minutes before I would’ve loved for him to touch me…to stay with me forever, but now…now all I want more than anything is for him to leave.

“You’ve got to be kidding me?” My legs straighten as I bolt to my feet, walking aimlessly in circles around the coffee table. It sounds and probably looks as if I’m talking to myself, but I have to get these thoughts out of my head, because I’m on the verge of going insane.

Why in the world do I attract the most irrational men? Before I know it, he’s standing right in front of me, his outstretched hand landing on my shoulder. All I can do is shake my head in denial, which travels down the entire length of my body, allowing me to wiggle out from under his tightening grip.

“Charlie? I know it’s a lot to take in, but if you allow me, I can tell you as much as you wish to know. I’ll try to make it as bearable and easy as possible to comprehend. I know I probably went about this the wrong way, but you needed to know.”

As I take a few steps backward, the feel of his hand tugging at my T-shirt sleeve forces a shiver to ripple through me. I know more than anything that this conversation will be anything but bearable. He truly believes he’s a vampire. Two choices cross my mind. One: play along and hear him out, or two: call him crazy and fight.

“Stop saying my name; it’s creepy…creepy just like you, may I add. If this is some kind of sick joke, I’m not game. With that said, you can leave. Now.” I wait, but he just stands there, staring at me. “I rescind your invitation, if you even got one to enter my house in the first place.” My voice rises with anger as my hand shoots out, pointing to the door.

“I’m not some vampire that a Hollywood director made up. I don’t need an invitation to enter a home nor do I sparkle either if that’s the next question you’re going to ask. We have more important things to discuss. Trust me, we’ll get to my weaknesses and strengths soon enough.” His voice took on a tone of annoyance.

“Oh, you’re funny for a dead guy. That’s if you’re even dead. Listen, you’re kind of freaking me out with this whole I own you thing. Please just leave me alone.” My simple begs begin to sound like prayers. Staring at the floor, refusing to look at him is the only thing that keeps me…me, because every time I look at him something comes over me and I don’t like it one bit.

“I’m not leaving until I explain our situation. You don’t understand. I can’t leave you, I will not leave you. You’re my personal and only blood supply. You were born for this, you were born for me. Now, sit down.” The authority in his voice demands all attention.

Without wanting to, my body complies with his words and I go back to the couch. A mix of confusion and terror distort my face. Thinking he’s doing me a favor, he tells me to relax. Gradually, my nerves calm and my breathing goes back to normal, abiding by his words even though my brain is still in chaos.

“Would you stop with whatever the hell it is that you’re doing?” I have no idea how he does it. All I know is that I just want it to stop. Before he has a chance to speak or worse make me stop speaking, I ask one last thing. “What’s our situation exactly? I don’t even know your name.”

“My name is Maxwell Barnett and you, Charlie Preston, will be my vampire bride.” He sees my intent to speak, so before a word could come out of my mouth he tells me to remain quiet and listen.

Not being one to take orders, I ignore his request, but as my mouth opens nothing comes out. Where there should be words, very foul words spoken in his direction, there’s nothing but silence. Extreme heat from fear brings the bile that was threatening earlier to rise even higher.

“I’m sorry to have to control you like this, but everything I’ve said and continue to say is the truth. I’m a vampire and you were born to feed me. Each vampire is assigned a bloodline, holding possession over the humans within it. At any given point, we can choose a mate within that bloodline. Leading to the main reason why I’m telling you all this, Charlie, it’s because I choose you.”

Tears begin to run down my cheeks, but I quickly wipe them away. Being perceived as weak and crying over some idiot’s crazy words is the last thing I want someone to see. I know he’s a weirdo who believes he’s a vampire, but I didn’t realize he was this sick. Plan number one isn’t going so well.

“You can speak now,” he adds.

“Oh, thank you so much, Master. Are you done with the vampire politics? Can we get this over with? Are you going to kill me or not? I would prefer to skip the part where you bite me, leaving human teeth marks in my neck, seeing as I would love an open casket at my funeral. On the other hand, though, it would help the authorities catch you for murder.” Laughter seeps out in between my words, but it sounds more manic than carefree.

Refusing to show him any fear and going against any better judgment, I stare him down. I didn’t have to be staring at his mouth to see his lips curl without hesitation. My attention is instantly drawn to his mouth. The view of his perfect straight white teeth fills my vision, but soon everything changes. Sharp fangs quickly slide down, making me choke on my own spit.

Coughing hinders my breathing as I suck in several useless breaths, gasping for air. When I believe I can speak my voice betrays my strong composure as it cracks. “This is not funny anymore,” I yell, truly scared, but at the same time mesmerized.

It’s time for plan two to go into action; I have no other choice, but to run. I make a dash for the front door, planning to scream bloody murder in the middle of the street.

“Charlie, calm down.” His gently spoken words stop me in my tracks.

My head swings from the living room to him, who’s now blocking the exit. He extends his arms, trying to capture me. “How…what?” There’s no amount of information to help me comprehend what just happened. He was in the living room one second ago and in a blink of an eye, he’s in front of me, blocking the door.

Looking past all common sense that’s trying to help me decipher what just happened, I turn to the kitchen. There’s no way I’m going to let his speed stop me from trying to escape again. Feeling like a trapped dog, I result to violence.

The sound of his slow footsteps taunt me from behind as I make my way to the kitchen. His calming words try to block any judgment that could find their way into my head. Wrapping shaky fingers around the handle of a knife, I swing around to wave it in his face. “Stop. Right. There.”

“That can’t hurt me, Charlie. Please, put it down. I have no desire to harm you, but if I have to force my hand just know that it’s for the best.” He takes several steps closer.

The blade whips through the air until it slices into his arm. More than thrilled that I actually cut him, only hopes of him understanding that I’m serious is all I’m left with. However, my hopes wither as I watch in shock as the wound heals, not shedding a drop of blood. “This is not normal. You are not normal. What are you?” I demand, but with a severely unsteady voice.

“I told you, Charlie, I’m a vampire. What I am is a big part of your life now.”

“My life…my life is normal and boring. Most of my time is spent at Jewish thirteen-year-old boys’ bar mitzvahs. I am an intelligent individual who graduated from a prominent business school and started my career as soon as I had my diploma in hand. My calendar is booked months in advance for my services. I am not meant to be stalked by some crazy freak.” The words desperately roll off my tongue, making me sound naïve as I try to explain my life all while waving the knife around. I’ve always been one to talk with my hands.

“You belong to me, Charlie, there’s no ignoring that. It’s in your blood. You won’t be able to fight it for long. Your ancestors weren’t very fond of me either. They left, forcing me to spend centuries tracking down the bloodline. I told myself that I would right my wrongs and find at least one human...one human who catches my eye. That’s you, my darling.”

“No. Nononononono.”

“I’m sorry, Charlie, I truly am. You deserve a better life than this, but I’m selfish and I want you for myself. And I’m not going anywhere. The blood in your veins calls for me just as much as I long for you at my side.”

His words sink in. They sink in deep since they’re right. There’s this crazy little voice, the twinge in my chest, and numbness throughout my limbs all calling for him. “Not happening.” My stubbornness is quite overpowering.

He clears his throat and continues as if my words mean nothing. “That will change. I can be very cunning when I want to be and I’ll even throw in an incentive.”

“Incentive for what?”

Frigid iciness freezes me where I stand as he strides up to me. He places his hand on my cheek, causing me to flinch at his touch. “Your promise to try to accept what we are to each other will not go unnoticed. My incentive for you is that I won’t bite you without your consent, which is asking a lot out of me.” He flashes his fangs at me before he quickly hides them with his lips.

“I’ll never accept you, dead man walking.” The words harshly exit my mouth as I raise my hand to slap him like all the other obnoxious men. Although, as my hand sails through the air, he catches it inches away from his cheek. With every ounce of might I have, I try to pry it out of his grip, but he just tightens his hold the more I struggle.

“I’m not fond of your reference to zombies, Charlie. I’m a respectable and well-mannered man, not some wild animal. Have I always been so patient? No. So why don’t you stop testing that patience and let go of your fears. What’s between us doesn’t have to hurt.” He releases my arm and just walks away, leaving me dumbfounded.

A steady flow of incoherent vulgar words rattle off in my head at his retreating back. The creak of the front door is what pulls me back into reality. He stops in the open doorway, looking back at me with those deep brown eyes. A sly smile spreads across his lips. “Sweet dreams, Charlie.”

Incapable of looking away, I stare at the closed door for a few seconds. What exactly is that supposed to mean? Is he trying to be sweet? Or is he trying to scare me? Breaking into a sprint, I open the door, expecting him to be there waiting cockily, but to my dismay he’s nowhere in sight. I still yell into the empty street for the need of having the last word. “Yeah, that’s right, go back to the shadows.”

The door slams shut and a huff is all I can manage. Words are unspeakable and actually thinking of said words seems even more incapable. Vulnerability taints my mind. Gradually, the rapid racing of my pulse slows and I take several breaths in while letting quivery breaths out. With a mental note made to call Morgan in the morning in efforts of striking up a conversation about going to church due to the fact of feeling cursed for some reason, I find my way back to my bedroom. There’s nothing else I can do to make this any better, and hoping that I’ll wake up tomorrow realizing this was all a dream is my best bet.

By the time I slowly walk to the bedroom, my heart stops pounding. A yawn escapes through my pursed lips as I crawl into bed impatiently. It’s almost four in the morning and I need to sleep, but unfortunately my mind counts all the windows and doors in the house. A steady debate on whether they’re all locked puts me to sleep.