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He clears his throat. “Sure. But only a little. You enjoyed your food, though?”

“Absolutely,” I say, feeling the wine buzz beneath my skin.

“Good. That's good.”

Another moment of silence passes between us with Amari just staring at me, barely blinking.

“What?” I say, feeling suddenly shy from his eyes on me.

“Nothing really,” he replies. “I just think you're stunning. And I don't say that lightly. I've been around … been to a lot of places—seen a lot of people. I'm not sure anyone has astonished me the way you do.”

I absolutely fail at keeping myself from smiling. “Wow. Thank you. Admittedly, I feel the same way about you. You've done everything right up to this point, and I really enjoy spending time with you. I mean, I wouldn't be here if I didn't.”

“I'm glad you feel that way. I know it must've taken a lot to agree to come here.”

“Well, it was really my suggestion, so it wasn't that hard.”

He grins. “True. What exactly made you offer to let me explore this kink of mine?”

I shrug as my nervousness kicks back up after having been gone for a while. “I don't know. I listened to you tell your story about how you discovered it, and I just felt … compelled, really. You explored with your old partner and found something new about yourself, and I was curious if I could do the same with you.”

“I see. Well, now that you're here, are you nervous?”

“Now that we’re talking about it, I am.”

Amari chuckles. “Understandable. Well, if you're willing to let me, I’ll gladly guide you through it.”

“Oh. Yeah, I guess that would be best,” I respond, loving the way he's so willing to take control. It feels like I've been waiting for a man like this my entire life.

“Okay. Then I'm ready whenever you are.”

“Oh, you mean now?”

“Yes. If you're ready.”

My heart begins to gallop like a stampede of horses, and I find myself reaching for the wine glass just to keep myself composed. I knock back what’s left and set it down, releasing a long exhale before locking eyes with Amari.

“Okay,” I say. “I think I'm ready.”

He smiles as he stands and walks over to me, extending his hand for me to take. “Okay. No need to be nervous. Let that go. All you have to do is follow me.”

I take his hand and look him in the eye, and warmth spreads all over my body. My nervousness fades more the longer I look at him, and when I get up from my seat, I feel ready. He leads me by the hand, and I follow with my heart in my throat.

AMARI

Twenty-Two

Ilead Aaliyah by the hand, my mind looking to what lies ahead while my ears focus in. I hear the sound of her heart beating, a rhythmic drum creating music while mine remains a whole rest. I’m nervous, and I don't think I've said that since before I was turned.

The lights are on, but my room is dimly lit, and the same music from the dining room can still be heard here from speakers embedded in the ceiling. Aaliyah’s thoughts whisper to me as we step into my bedroom and she looks around. She notices the lamps on top of blackwood nightstands first. She takes in the black walls and the matte black comforter, and notices that there are no pictures in here, just darkness offset by the electric fireplace sending orange light shimmering all around us. I listen to her take note of the black leather couch and chair positioned against the wall closest to the door, and the four posts jutting up from each corner of the bed. The drapes on the far wall are closed, covering the floor to ceiling windows and blocking all light from entering. She can't see any of the glow from the city now, and tells herself that if the lamps and fireplace were turned off, the room would be absolutely devoid of light … like the inside of a coffin. Yet, she feels no anxiety about being here. I Influenced that away from her just as we were about to leave the table. I don't want her bogged down by anxiety. I need Aaliyah loose and willing, because tonight will change both of our lives forever.

As I guide her to the side of the bed, it’s not until we’re by the nightstand that she realizes there is something resting on top of it. It’s small but ominous—a modest knife with a wooden handle and a curved blade like a mini scythe—a little treasure I picked up on a trip to Cairo in the 1950s, where I spent two weeks indulging on the blood of royalty. What fun memories. Aaliyah’s eyes zero in it, and I sense her anxiety trying to come back to life.

“Would you prefer something smaller?” I ask, drawing her attention over to me and hoping it helps for her to stop looking at the weapon. “I know it looks daunting. I can get something smaller if you'd prefer. I don't want you to be scared.” When she doesn't respond right away, I step closer to her, knowing what she needs to hear and trying my best not to Influence her through every single step of the night. “Or, we can scrap the entire idea if you want. No pressure or hard feelings. I promise.”

She takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly, and I listen to her thoughts to get a glimpse of where her head is at.

“Come on, Aaliyah. You were just complaining about how lame your life is, making toasts with Nae and begging the universe to shake up your world. Well, this is it. Don't run from what you asked for. It’s either this, or back to the monotony. Do not go back to the fucking monotony.”.