“Angel Shot.” came the almost quiet, lilting voice. The bartender looked up at the pretty girl in a sleek black dress standing there, and recognized her from previous nights. He wanted to question her, but kept the ruse.
“How would you like it?”
“Neat.” she replied, her expression tired. The bartender raised an eyebrow slightly, as usually she ordered it with ice.
“Coming up.” he said, and headed towards the back of the bar, looking for the head bartender. It was a rule in the establishment that he be the one to escort anyone, and Braden didn’t want to upset the balance. Besides, Jim was more than capable of handling anything, as had been proved a couple of times already.
“Jim.” he reported quietly. Jim turned around after he’d finished pouring drinks and looked at him questioningly.
“Angel Shot, neat.” he replied. Jim nodded and headed towards the end of the bar where Braden had left the young woman. Jim recognized her as well – she was a regular in the club, and as of late must have had bad luck with dates, based on her order history. Jim walked down to her.
“Angel shot, neat, right?” he asked. She nodded in response, then glanced over her shoulder before looking back at him apologetically. He set the bar towel down and moved from behind the bar and led her into the back, through the employees only entrance.
“Everything ok?” he asked her as he headed for the office for his coat, the din of the club falling behind them.
“As good as it gets, I guess.” she said, hugging herself.
“Don’t you usually get an Uber?”
“Yea, but the last driver was no better than my date, so I’m kind of reluctant.”
Jim paused a minute, then handed her his coat, as she was without one. It was bound to be in the club somewhere, but it could be found after hours; she at least had her purse.
“I can understand that. I’m Jim, by the way.”
“I know.” she said, smiling. She paused for a moment before continuing. “Ilyana.” she offered.
“It suits you.” he said, reflecting on her looks. He opened the door, gesturing for her to head outside as he held it open, then followed her out.
“Which car is yours?”
“Actually, I um..don’t have one. It’s been in the shop.”
“How did you plan on getting home?”
“I figured once I was outside I could call a friend to come and get me.”
“You would freeze before someone came.” he said out of concern. She shrugged. “Let me take you home.” he said impulsively, masking the surprise in himself.
“But your shift – ”
“Don’t worry about it.” he said, pulling out his phone. he called the line for the club, and informed the bartender that answered that they were on their own for a while, as he was escorting a guest home. Call completed, he took her by the elbow and guided her to his car, whereupon he opened the passenger door for her, then headed around to the driver’s side and started the car, waiting for it to get warm before leaving.
“You’ll have to give me directions.” he said. She bit her lower lip.
“Actually…just take me to the cafe. I can get a coffee and wait for a friend.”
“You sure?” he asked, and she gave him a small smile.
“Yes. No offense, but I don’t know you, so I don’t want to give out my address.”
“No problem.” he said, and she relaxed, relieved he wasn’t upset. “At least let me buy you a coffee?”
“If it’ll make you happy.” She was smiling as she said it, relaxing more the further they got from the club.
“It would make me feel better about leaving you alone.” he admitted.
“Now you’re starting to sound like my brother.”
“Is that a bad thing?”
“Not really.” she paused. “I have a good brother.”
“Well, glad to know I’m in good company.” he said, smiling as she laughed a little bit. It was a pretty laugh. They pulled into the cafe parking lot and headed inside, finding a table away from the door and the more dense populous of students studying, and placed an order.
“You sure you won’t get in trouble with Vince?” she asked.
“No. Vince is always trying to get me to take time off.” he paused as their drinks came, picking his up and holding the cup for warmth before taking a drink. “How do you know Vince runs the place?” he asked, curiosity getting the better of him.
“My brother knows him better than I do.” she admitted. “He was over at our house recently for…well, I forget what, exactly. But he called me cute and invited me over anytime.” she said, picking up her own mug.
“Sounds like Vince. What’s your brother’s name? I generally have met most of the people around here Vince knows. Call me curious.”
“Timur.” she said with a smile.
“Ah, it makes sense now that I think about it. You two do look similar, in some aspects.” he took another drink before asking a probing question. “VIP?”
“No, but Timur is, and I know what that entails, so don’t worry.” she smiled at his sudden change in expression. It looked like relaxation mixed with relief.
“You’ll have to forgive me.” he said. “I don’t run into may people that know that information without being part of the..err..club.” she nodded.
“I understand.” she took several more sips of her coffee and looked around before turning her attention back to him. “We could talk more if you wanted. But there’s risk we’ll be overheard.”
He nodded. “Your place?” he asked, unsure if that was okay or not at this point. she thought on it a moment, then shook her head.
“My brother is likely to be home, and even if he isn’t, Sergei would be there, and I don’t feel like prying eyes or questions.” she paused a minute and explained. “Sergei is like another overprotective big brother.”
“Ah. Well, I could take you back to my place?” he offered. “Nothing funny, of course.” he added quickly, and she smiled. “Just talk.”
“I am okay with this. You can take me home after. Deal?”
“Deal.” he said with a nod. They finished their coffees and she waited while Jim paid, then they headed to the car.
“Aren’t you cold?” she asked him, pulling his coat a little tighter around her. She knew she was cold.
“Yes, but I’ll be alright. I hope you don’t mind a bit of a drive.”
She shook her head and settled back into the seat to enjoy the drive. She found he wasn’t kidding when he said it was a bit of a drive, as they ended up near the edge of town, pulling up to a small house. He parked, then walked around to let her out.
“Such a gentleman.” she teased. He smiled, and guided her to the porch, where she waited while he unlocked the door and flipped on the lights. After the door was closed, she shrugged out of his coat and handed it to him, and waited patiently as he hung it up.
“Excuse the mess.” he said, with a hint of embarrassment.
“What mess?” she said, looking around as she entered the living room. It was so clean she wondered if it was really lived in. The only sign of living she could see was a guitar lying across the coffee table, and a couple of records not in their proper place. “Jim, this isn’t a mess.” she said, watching him as he put the records in place and hang the guitar back on the wall.
He smiled apologetically. “Sorry. I’m OCD, so it tends to bother me, and I don’t think about what other people consider clean versus a mess.”
“It’s okay.” she said, smiling in order to get him to relax. She looked around the room. “You are in some desperate need of art.” she said, critiquing the walls that were bare, save for the shelving unit and guitar. The room was nice, but felt plain, and a little void of personality, and she told him so.
“I wouldn’t know what to put on the walls.” he admitted, gesturing for her to take a seat. She sat down, smoothing out her dress as she did so.
“I’d be happy to help. Hell, I’d be happy to paint something for you.”
“You’re an artist?”
She nodded. “I’ve got a masters from Yale and everything.”
“Wow.” he said, impressed. “Brains and beauty.” She felt her face flush a little at the complement.
“Thank you.”
Jim took a seat nearby. “I haven’t seen you at any of the get-togethers – so you can’t be VIP, and I don’t think ghoul is likely either.”
“No.” she admitted. “I used to be a ghoul, but I stopped a couple of years ago.”
“Can I ask why?”
“My domitor was killed, and there was no one my brother trusted to be my donor.”
“That must have been a harsh feel through the bond.”
She shook her head. “I’m apparently one of the rare types that are immune. It infuriated him to no end, but he found other ways to manipulate me.” she said with a heavy sigh. Jim decided to change the subject.
“What made you decide to move out to the middle of nowhere? You had to have had more opportunities elsewhere.”
“Maybe.” she admitted. “But my brother and Sergei were here on a job, and after awhile they decided to up and moved here. I was asked to pack up their things and the animals and bring it out this way to the house Sergei bought. I didn’t h ave to stay, but I chose to, simply to get away from my family.”
“Are they that bad?”
“I was living with my parents and second eldest brother, Dmitri. Dmitri is a skeez always looking for a quick buck or the next lay, and my mother is incessant about me settling down and having kids. As for my elder brother, Alexei, he wasn’t much better. He’s ok – but every so often he’d hint that maybe I should make my mother happy.” she scowled a little, then sighed. “I just couldn’t handle it anymore. I was always close to Timur, so I chose to be out here, and it appeased my family because I wasn’t on my own, and I’d have Timur and Sergei to look out for me.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s alright. I finally told my mother I don’t even really want kids, so there’s that at least.”
“Is that true?”
She shrugged. “Right now it is. I may change my mind later on down the road.”
There was silence for a bit, and it prompted Jim to get up and head to the kitchen. Ilyana had been at the bar for a few hours, and probably needed a bite to eat.
“You allergic to anything?” he called.
“No. Why?” when he didn’t answer, she headed into the kitchen. “You don’t need to make anything for me.”
“You’ve been at the bar several hours, and never ordered food.” he said, surprising her with how much he knew. “If you don’t get something in you, your system will not take kindly to the alcohol.”
“Fair point.” she leaned against the door frame a little, watching as he fixed a few simple, but ultimately filling sandwiches. he placed them on plated and cleaned up the crumbs and any other mess he’d made, and she watched, wondering just how bad his OCD was, but said nothing about it. Jim picked up the plates and carried them into the living room, setting them on the coffee table. She didn’t know it, but he was breaking one of his own cardinal rules – eating is done in the kitchen.
“Thank you.” she said with a smile, picking the plate up and taking a bite, careful to eat over the plate. “So what about you?” she asked after a couple bites.
“What about me?”
“Do you want kids?”
“That’s a forward question.”
“You asked me first.” she pointed out.
“Fair.” he replied, then sighed, and took a bite. “I had a little girl.”
The use of the past tense didn’t escape Ilyana. “I’m sorry.” she quickly said. “If I’d have known – ”
“It’s okay. The pain of her memory is mostly gone, and she’s moved on to be with her mother.”
Ilyana got up and moved to be closer to Jim. She rested a hand over his and gave it a squeeze out of sympathy. “How long?” she asked quietly, not sure if it was too much prying.
He smiled faintly. “About fifty-four years. I just had a hard time getting over it for a long time. I blamed myself.” he looked down at their hands and then looked back at her. “Thank you.” he said, and she moved her hand.
She decided to branch into a different subject, in an attempt to lighten the mood. “You don’t look that old.” she admitted.
“You don’t look that old.” she said, teasing him a little. he smirked.
“I’m just shy of a century.” he said.
“Really?”
He nodded. “Next year is the big one.”
“Wow. Ghouls really don’t age.”
“Nope. Not so long as we get the blood.”
“Good to know.” she turned her attention back to the sandwich, feeling hungrier than she’d initially thought. They were quiet a few minutes longer before she spoke again. “Do you play?” she asked, indicating the guitar.
“I used to, though I’m starting to get back into it a little.”
“Sounds like a good thing.” she said with a smile. “When did you first learn?”
“In the seventies, during the rise of punk.”
She raised an eyebrow. “I’m sorry…I cannot picture you as a punk rocker.”
“I was. I’m not anymore, but I assure you, I was.”
“I bet that factoid surprises the hell out of people.”
“Typically.” he said, and smiled. “A lot of people have a hard time disassociating me with my OCD, it seems.”
“Well, I’ll try not to.” she said with a smile, then looked over at his collection. “May I?”
He nodded. “Feel free. Just put things back in their place, ok?”
“I’ll try.” she said, smiling. She finished her sandwich first, making sure to keep the crumbs on the plate, then set it down before getting up and perusing his collection of vinyl and CD’s. The collection was amazing, and she couldn’t help but think that some of it must be worth a small fortune. After a while of perusing, she straightened up and headed back over to her seat near him.
“That’s one hell of a collection.”
“Thanks.” he said, smiling. “Took a while to build up, but if you take care of things over the years it’s not hard to get them to last.
“I’ll take your word on it.” she said with a smile, then stretched, and stifled a yawn. “Sorry.” she said sheepishly.
“Don’t be.” Jim said, stifling his own yawn as he looked at his watch. Time had flown by as they talked. The bar was closed, and he was tired. Normally, he wasn’t because he was busy, but in this atmosphere he was relaxed.
“I’ll call an Uber.” she said, digging for her phone. Impulsively, Jim said “You can stay here. I mean, if you’re comfortable with that.”
She didn’t answer right away, and mumbled something as she looked at her phone. “Everything ok?”
“Hmm? Oh, yes…just my brother texting to ask if I’m ok and wondering where I’m at.” she typed as she spoke. “I’m telling him I’m fine and that I’ll see him when he wakes up.” After a minute, she put away her phone and looked at him. “Are you sure you’re okay with me staying here?”
“Yes, I’m fine with it.”
“Okay.” she said, and looked at the couch, trying to judge how comfortable it was.
“You don’t need to sleep on the couch.” he said.
“I’d feel bad taking your room.”
He smiled. “I have a guest room.”
“Oh. Okay then. Sorry.”
“It’s okay, it’s a small house, no worries.” he held out a hand to help her out of her seat, then led her to the spare bedroom. “It should be comfortable enough.”
She smiled, and gave him a friendly kiss on the cheek. “Thank you.” she said, then headed into the room, closing the door behind her. She didn’t notice, but Jim flushed a little, and just stood there dumbfounded, until he yawned again. This prompted him to move, turn out lights, and head to bed for the night.
When Jim woke up in the morning, he knocked lightly at the spare bedroom door. When he received no answer, he quietly opened it, noting that she was still there, and still asleep. Lying folded on the dresser was her dress and brassiere. Quietly, he closed the door, and returned to his room, rifling through his dresser for a minute and pulled out some clothes that might fit her, then wrote a quick note. Re-entering the guest room, he placed the clothes next to the ones she had laid there, with the note on top, then quietly exited again, and headed to the kitchen to make some breakfast.
Ilyana woke up later to some wonderful smells, then sat up and stretched. She’d slept well enough. She took a moment to stay under warm covers before getting up and heading to her clothes. She paused when she saw the pile that hadn’t been there the night before, then picked up the note. It read simply I thought you might be more comfortable and warm wearing these. Hopefully they’re a decent fit.
She picked up the clothes and looked at them – a simple pair of sweats and a tee. Smiling, she pulled them on, and tightened the drawstring until they fit snug, then put on her bra and pulled the tee over it. Another stretch, then she exited the room and made her way to the kitchen.
“Smells great.” she said, leaning in the doorway.
He looked up and smiled. “I thought you might want something before I took you home.”
“Thank you for being considerate.” she said, stepping into a kitchen and taking a seat at the table, which was already set. “What’s cooking?”
“Nothing special – just eggs and bacon.”
“Hey, it’s better than what I make myself most mornings.”
“And what would that be?”
“Cereal.” she paused. “If I eat at all.”
Jim tsked, then served up for both of them, cleaning the cooking implements before sitting down. She waited patiently for him before she started eating.
“Did you sleep well?” he asked.
“Yes, thank you.” she said with a smile. “And thank you for the change of clothes; I appreciate it.”
“I just wanted you to be more comfortable. And warm.” he added as an afterthought.
“Still very sweet of you.” she said, and focused on breakfast. When she was through she took the initiative to clean her own plate and utensils, but let him place them in the dishwasher.
“I was thinking that first we could head to the club to see if your coat had been found, before I take you home.”
“Sounds good to me.” she said, turning away from the sink and bumping into him since he’d stepped in the same direction after loading the dishwasher.
“Sorry.” he said apologetically.
“It’s ok.” she said, and leaned in, intending for a peck on the cheek. Instead he moved his head at the wrong (or right, depending on perspective) time, and it ended up on his lips. The both of them stood awkwardly for a minute before Ilyana decided to take her chances and try again. Jim was cute, and above all, nice, so why not?
Jim stood in disbelief for a minute. Sure, he’d had the one night stand the other night, but he still wasn’t used to attention like this. Ilyana backed away after a minute and apologized, due to his non-reaction, he supposed.
“You’ve got nothing to apologize for.” he said, reaching out to her face and leaning in for a gentle kiss, one she leaned into and intensified slightly. “Tell me this much.” he murmured. “Should I call off work?”
“Mmm…if things keep going this well, you might want to.”
Jim couldn’t help bug grin as he reached for his phone and called up Trish to tell her he was taking a sick day, not thinking of the consequences that might bring. Trish stared at the phone in disbelief after Jim hung up, and wondered if she should have someone check on him. As far as she knew, Jim was never sick.
“Consider my day free.” Jim said, after putting the phone down.
“Good.” she said, wrapping her arms behind his neck and leaned in for another kiss. Jim surprised her by picking her up, and she locked her legs around his waits to make it a little easier on him, once she got over the initial startlement. She was led to his bedroom – just as clean and neat as the rest of what she’d seen, but with more color. Letting go with her legs, she put her feet on the floor as he started pulling off her clothes. She reciprocated and pulled his off, both of them doing the best they could in between passionate kisses.
Ilyana fell back against the bed, and Jim lay on top of her, the two of them focused on need and desire, so that their first go round was pure animal instinct. Later rounds would see longer sessions, with more foreplay and attention, more akin to lovemaking. If he keeps this up, Ilyana mused, he’s going to have my nail marks all over his back. Jim didn’t seem to mind. Or maybe he didn’t notice. Either way, he was focused on her, and greatly amused when she fell to using her first language in her heightened state of passion.
Neither had anyplace they needed to be, and both intended to make it a day of passion, breaking only for necessities.