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I never expected to be in this situation after a hundred and fifty-six years of life. I never thought I’d meet my Companion, especially in a strip club. I never expected to be put in a situation where I'd have to save her life with my blood, igniting the fixation inside of her. Yet, here I am. However, I wouldn't change any of this. As long as I get to be with Aaliyah, I'm happy. It doesn't matter what I have to do, how much I have to put up with, or who I have to kill to protect her. I’ll do it all. I’ll scorch the Earth to keep her safe and happy, because although I haven't said it to her directly yet … I love her.

It’s surprising how little concern I have for myself now that I have her. I've been around for so long that living here comes easily to me. I know how to navigate society without much thought, and I've been able to use my time here to learn the system in which humans live. I'm richer than I ever thought I would be when I was hustling in Philly’s early stages of life. I own a casino that brings in millions, and I don't even have to show my face on most occasions. I'm good. All that matters now is her. Watching her win and go through life happily will be the only thing I care about until the moment she dies.

As much as watching her slowly fade away over time will crush me, I'm honored to be in her life until the very end. I know that turning her would keep us together forever, but there's something beautiful in knowing it won’t last. It’s easier to cherish and appreciate what we have this way. So I look forward to it all. Every single day. With her.

I look at her again and smile at how gorgeous she is, but my smile fades when she looks over her shoulder at me. I could make the telepathic connection between us active at all times, but I'm keeping my promise not to intrude on Aaliyah’s mind without her permission. Because of that, I have to wait for her to call to me, and I feel the pull of her tugging on my mind.

“What’s the matter?”

She glances over her shoulder a second time, then faces front so that her back is to me.

“I don't know,” she says. “Someone here is being weird. I don't know why, but I can feel it. Something’s wrong.”

With a furrow in my brow, I scan the large mass of people, looking for anyone who may stand out. I can't see everybody from this vantage point, so I have to rely on what I feel. When it hits me, my eyes know exactly where to look, and the second I see him, I know.

Standing in front of Aaliyah’s signature piece for the evening is a man with hickory brown skin, pristine waves in his hair, a short beard, and shoulders the size of bowling balls that can be seen bulging through his white coat. I can only see him from the side, but I know without a doubt … I'm no longer the only vampire here.

I leave my position in the corner and quickly make my way across the room. I don't have a problem with vampires. I know there are plenty, and I've met a few over my time. But a vampire being here tonight? Something about it makes me uneasy, because I know he knows I'm in this room, yet he hasn't even looked in my direction.

Aaliyah dismisses herself from a man asking about a piece of art, and meets me in the center of the venue, both of us staring at the man in white.

“Who is that?” she asks.

“I don't know, but I know he's a vampire.”

Aaliyah looks at me with wide eyes before facing the mysterious man again, inspecting him up and down. “Why would a vampire be here?”

“Don't know,” I reply. “But why don't you go find out? I’ll fall back and watch how it plays out. I’ll be listening.”

Aaliyah nods. “Alright.”

I stay put while she approaches the vampire cautiously. He doesn't react in the slightest when she reaches him.

Something’s up.

“Hi,” Aaliyah says. “I see you've got your eyes on this one. Is there anything in particular about it that you like?”

He keeps his eyes on the painting. “There is, actually,” he says in a deep, rumbling voice. “I love the moonlight on the cheeks and the details in the mouth. It’s clear that you have a muse. It’s beautiful, actually. Beautiful art from a beautiful artist. You've got something special in you. Perhaps it’s the vampire blood.”

The man in white finally turns his head to look at Aaliyah, and I can see the hint of red in his brown eyes from here. He grins at her before cutting his eyes over to me and smiling fully.

“Is he listening?” he asks Aaliyah, and that’s when I lose my ability to fall back. I don't draw any attention to myself, but I reach them as quickly as I can, and the three of us have a face-off.

“Who are you, and what do you want?” I ask.

I can tell that he's been a vampire a lot less time than I have, which means he probably won't be able to see me in a fight, but you never know. The younger ones can be tricky.

“My name’s Tariq,” he replies. “And I don't want anything. Not necessarily. I simply wanted to meet the man she was so desperate to see, and I'm pleased to find that you have your own little pet to play with. That’s good, but it doesn't make me like you. I don't care how close she says the two of you are. Even though you're occupied with standing in the corners of rooms for your play thing, I still feel the need to tell you that she is mine. So, no matter what she says to you, just know that she belongs to me. Forever. You got that? It doesn't matter what happened between the two of you at any point in time. She’s mine.”

Tariq has the audacity to act like we’re not in public, and flashes his fangs. Amongst vampires, this is a sign of aggression. It’s a threat, but it’s not even the fangs that bother me. It’s the fact that he is speaking on Aaliyah.

He thinks she's his? I've always known that vampires can wrongfully believe someone is their Companion because they want one so badly, but to latch onto my Companion is something I never expected. But if there's one thing I know, it’s that doing so is punishable by death because I deemed it so.

“She's yours?” I ask, feeling a rageful fury boiling my insides. “You come here out of the blue and stand in the middle of this exhibit, talking shit about what’s yours without truly knowing who I am or what I'm capable of. It’s a dumb move. One that’ll get you killed. In fact, speaking on Aaliyah might be the dumbest thing anyone could ever do. So, I suggest you choose your next words carefully.”

“Amari, we can't do this here,” Aaliyah says, and while I know she's right, I haven't learned restraint yet when it comes to her.

Tariq smiles first, then bursts into laughter that draws a few eyes over to us.