How did you tame my grumpy lone wolf
13
Learning hypnosis turned out to be more about learning what not to do. By the time I’d done it wrong in every possible way, I’d become rather good at it.
Though I was sure I wasn’t nearly on par with Riftan, I could handle almost any thralling situation at the drop of a hat. Curious onlookers in the alley, check. A proper Sunday meal, you know it. A Karen yelling on the sidewalk, bye, bitch. I liked to think I was as competent as most other immortals would be.
In the next six months following my initial thralling failure, it felt like I’d learned every lesson there was to learn in vampirism, but Riftan insisted there was much more work to do before completing my training. By April, he confirmed that I’d accomplished all the basics, which meant it was time to start employing those tactics in unison and without fail.
When I asked if there was anything he could have forgotten to teach me, he’d poke an introspective finger to his chin and then confidently say, “nope!” Which I knew was a lie, because I still couldn’t disappear and reappear somewhere else like he often did in a puff of black smoke. I’d tried running so fast that I thought I might disappear in a zip of motion, but it wasn’t the same as his little vanishing act. What he did was more like teleportation—a mystical entrance I’d had no such luck in getting Riftan to talk about. It wasn’t like how it’d been with hypnotism and him wanting me to be patient. Instead, he had an actual aversion to the topic, telling me an outright “no” whenever I asked about it.
Luckily, I wasn’t feeling pushy over it. I trusted Riftan to teach me everything that I needed to know in due time. It wouldn’t hurt to go with the flow. Not like I was in any kind of hurry. I didn’t have anywhere else I wanted to be. I would happily let Riftan take his sweet time teaching me. After all, our time together technically had a deadline, and my heart had taken to dropping whenever I thought about reaching said deadline.
I was immersed in the little life we’d created together, and our relationship surpassed the point of an easy goodbye a long time ago. Riftan and I had lived together in Prague for a long time. Hell, we’d be creeping up on a year in a couple months.
Leaving Riftan would be like going back to the real world after almost a year wrapped up in a fantasy. I didn’t think that anything—or anyone—could compare to this world that consisted of just Riftan and me. I was so absorbed in our private life together that it was by some means unsettling when Riftan proposed the idea of meeting new people. More precisely, that he wanted me to meet someone new.
“Someone new? Like, who?” I asked, lacing my words with a cautious undertone.
“Some of my friends.”
Something sounded fishy, so I joked—though it was hardly a joke, “You have friends?”
“Well, to be fair, I have one friend, and he’s bringing some of his friends. I simply thought it would be good for you to get out and meet other immortals for once. It’s about time you started getting acquainted with a bit of the underworld community.”
“Hmm.” I was already fiddling with my hair, nervous tension creeping its way into my stomach at the mere thought of meeting new people. Did I know how to talk to other people anymore?
“Scratch that.” Riftan butted in before I could answer. “I have two friends: you are my friend as well.”
“Gee, thanks. I’d hope we were friends,” I noted. “But seriously, who’s the friend we are meeting?” If Riftan had only one friend, then I would have heard him talk about them.
“Jameson. He said he wanted to meet you, and I thought this was a good opportunity for you as well.”
“Jameson, like the Jameson you turned in the late 1800s?”
“So, you do listen to me sometimes?” he teased.
“It’s selective listening, I assure you.”
That night, I dressed to impress because Riftan had gone on to make it sound like he and Jameson were talking about me in their personal time. Moreover, it seemed that a select group of Jameson’s friends had traveled to Prague with the sole intention of meeting me. And though that was completely ludicrous in my opinion, Riftan said it was no big deal—as though traveling across the world to meet a friend for one night was common and nonchalant.
The nerves piled on as we stood in the elevator of one of the fanciest hotels in the center of the city. Riftan had failed to mention that we were going to a private party in someone’s hotel room rather than meeting at a bar.
The elevator walls around us gleamed like golden mirrors, meticulously polished, not a fingerprint in sight. The foyer we’d come through before the concierge had been equally as grand: gold accents and lush green foliage highlighted every corner in a sophisticated but opulent style. The place was regal, to say the least. We’d needed a key to access the elevator that would take us to the penthouse.
“Jeesh,” I sighed, hating how unaccustomed I’d become to the idea of social interaction. “Don’t tease me, but I’m really nervous.” My stomach tied into knots while I fiddled with the hem of my dress. I’d never been so nervous to meet new people. I used to love it.
“There’s no reason to be nervous,” Riftan cooed as he adjusted the hair over my shoulder so some of it draped down the front. “Here, would it make you feel better if I held your hand?”
With wary eyes, I looked between him and his outstretched fingers. “Well, since you offered.” I accepted his hand and held it tight, feeling immediate relief to my restless nerves. He gave my trembling fingers a squeeze, pulling me snugly against his side. Between us, a shared warmth blossomed—a feeling I’d familiarized with a comfort only Riftan could provide me—calming what remained of my heart palpitations.
Accompanying the ring of a bell, the golden mirrored doors before us slid open, and Riftan whispered, “Don’t worry. I’ll be right here with you,” before tugging me out of the elevator.
We entered directly into a hotel room, no hallway to traverse or door to knock on. The room, though dimly lit, sparkled like a polished diamond. In stark contrast to the gold theme of the lobby below, this space featured dark metal fixtures and black furniture. A lively group of people gathered around the heart of the room: an expansive black marble countertop, which cascaded onto the floor in a robust modern design. It was centered in the kitchen, lit by bright hanging pendants which spotlighted the area in an otherwise dark space. This bar, an island of laughter and camaraderie, attracted the majority of the room’s dozen occupants. Elsewhere in the shadows, a few individuals were sprinkled across the suite; some drawn to the large windows, where they stood silhouetted against the city’s sprawling view, while a couple canoodled on the large L-shaped couch that took over the rest of the hotel room, sunken below the kitchen bar. A stair-step up to the kitchen gave the living room a conversation pit sort of look—though it was the kitchen that had been elevated instead of the room sunken.
“Riftan!” An enthusiastic but deep-toned voice stuck out from the crowd, and a man with ebony skin separated himself from the others, meeting us before we’d reached the group. A giddy smile plastered over his high cheeks as he closed the distance and grasped Riftan’s free hand in a firm handshake. The man was tall and thin, his chiseled jaw and pearly white smile—fangs and all—making him appear young and carefree. The button-up shirt he wore messily pushed up on the sleeves made him look younger than he’d probably been when he was human. Dropping his attention to me with a quick glance toward Riftan’s and my conjoined hands, the man took my free hand and kissed it cordially. He then added, “It’s nice to meet you, Miss Leanne. My name is Jameson and I welcome you.”
Riftan’s fingers squeezed around mine. I bolstered up, putting effort toward my confidence. “Thank you. It’s nice to meet you as well.”
Giving Riftan his full attention, Jameson asked him about the last seven years since they’d seen each other. Riftan’s opening line was accompanied by a hearty laugh, a sight I had never witnessed in public before. Instantly, their connection resembled old friends. Observing Riftan interact like that with someone other than myself was heartening. His joy enveloped me, creating a warm and cozy feeling that melted my taut nerves back into place. His infectious smile contaminated my own, spreading over my lips.
When the two of them had sufficiently caught up, Jameson took my hand again and offered to introduce me to the crowd of others who still chatted around the bar. With a quick squeeze, Riftan released his hold on me, permitting Jameson to take his place as my safety net. I smiled at Riftan, feeling my cheeks pull into something reassuring, and he nodded in accord.
Taking me up the step and into the kitchen, Jameson interrupted the playful group at the bar’s banter to introduce us one by one. Since I’d never been great with names, they all went in one ear and out the other, but I had a feeling the only important thing was that I remembered Jameson. The others would simply have to remind me half a dozen more times.
Even if I couldn’t remember their names, I would remember their faces. Each individual possessed a distinct look that set them apart. The taller girl had shoulder-length blonde hair with perfect ringlets, the guy in a glitter front, black button-up lacked eyebrows and had striking grey eyes, and the dark-skinned girl on her tiptoes wore intricate pink braids that entwined with her naturally black locs. The only similarity the group shared was that they were all awe-inspiringly gorgeous. If I had encountered this group in a public setting, I would have sensed that something was unusual, even without knowledge of some mythical underworld community. Their collective presence was simply too striking to go unnoticed. The women exuded beauty; the men radiated charm. Although I had experienced a similar transformation in my own appearance after turning, it still seemed improbable for so many extraordinary individuals to congregate in one place.
That alone would have been intimidating enough to have me turning tail if I’d predicted it back in the elevator. But with Jameson’s radiant confidence wrapped at my side, I could feel the bold and poised Leanne begging to be set free again. She’d been hiding for so long that I worried she no longer existed. I should have known better. She is me.
Taking up an offered martini, I found easy conversation with this new set of individuals. Among the group, there wasn’t a trace of malice, and from the beginning, each person treated me with the warmth and sincerity of a true friend. They nearly fumbled over each other to talk to me, poised with a million and five different questions to ask about my past, my future, my opinion on life as we knew it, and a myriad of other crazy hypothetical inquiries.
As I should have expected, Riftan saved his attention predominantly for my interactions, keeping a close vigil on everything I did as a constant presence by my side. Despite his quiet demeanor, he didn’t appear out of place in a room filled with extroverts. Everyone approached him at least once or twice, and he responded each time with a soft smile and genuine conversation. However, beyond these brief exchanges, he didn’t actively seek out interactions with the others. Instead, he seemed content observing as people mingled around him, pursuing their own enjoyment and engaging in their own conversations.
Though he had expressed his concerns about acting out any romantic antics between the two of us while we were staying together, his actions were contrary. What started as mere proximity slowly progressed into a level of touchiness I hadn’t expected from him. At some point, his arms had found their way around my waist when I’d been leaning into him, inviting his warmth. Eventually, I didn’t have to entice his touch to have him pulling me into his arms while my interest focused elsewhere.
His attention burned the butterflies in my chest into a fire that was only minimally kept under control by the many exchanges keeping me busy chatting with the room. I was used to Riftan touching me as he pleased at home, but this was, in so many ways, different. His intimate behavior in a room full of individuals he knew personally was significant. Riftan was openingly welcoming others to make their own judgments about us. He was making a public announcement that we were indeed as close as I liked to think we were. Among a group of his peers, I assumed Riftan would want us to appear as platonic as he was constantly trying to say we were. Instead, his hands roamed freely, holding tighter than when in the privacy of our home.
With his arms yet again draped around my waist and holding my back captive against his chest, I waited for the lull in conversation. When Jameson stepped away to get us more drinks, I whispered, “What do you think you’re doing?”
Riftan angled his head between the space over my shoulder, breath too hot in my ear to be more than inches from it. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
My heart dropped a little. He knew what he was doing. He knew the way it would affect me, and he knew the way it already had. He could hear my heart race when our bodies got too close. How it leapt when he drew his fingers over my stomach and down my waist. Everyone in that damn room could hear it. They all knew, so the least he could do was admit to it. Maybe my disappointment came through in my voice, because it was soft, negligible in volume, and dripping in dejection. “Yes, you do.”
Something about that response made its way through Riftan’s thick skull because his hands dropped away from me as Jameson was returning with a glass in hand.
Taking the glass, I glanced back at Riftan. His look had soured, lips donning a bitter purse. Knowing him, he wasn’t mad at me for telling him to retract, but more so that I’d been right and that he’d let himself get carried away, as he sometimes did.
Giving him my most doe-eyed smile, I saw him correct his features before turning his attention elsewhere.
I’d like to say that lasted more than minutes, but it wasn’t much later that one of the other partygoers had meandered into our conversation, laughing it up and leaning into me with a roguish grin. His blond hair was pulled back to show the strength of his wide jaw and the thick muscles that traced his neck. The guy was super hot, but then again, everyone there was. He’d only just mentioned meeting up outside of that party, when Riftan’s fingers were gripping my dress, tugging me back into his bubble, where he could wrap his arms around my shoulders and hover over me. That action, paired with whatever look he was flashing from behind me, was answer enough for the guy who’d taken up flirting with me. He didn’t retract from our conversation, but straightened up and made his banter much more modest in nature, never mentioning the possibility of meeting again.
That wasn’t the last time Riftan put on that possessive front either. The few times I’d been far enough from him to elicit overly friendly conversation from other men, Riftan slowly meandered to my side, trying to look ever so casual as he intervened. Men seemed to be the only thing that concerned him, though I knew he knew my sexual preferences—or lack thereof. Which made me wonder if this was about me, or more about him. Was he jealous, or merely feeling some strange need to mark me as his property in some male ego contest?
While I ached for the satisfaction that came from thinking he wanted me for himself, I didn’t entirely appreciate the implications of ownership that would entail. I wasn’t his to claim for his own—leastwise, not if he wouldn’t claim me in the privacy of our home. But the ache of wanting to be his and wanting to think this relationship was more than forced and inconsequential was confusing against that conviction, especially to my already puzzled heart.
Luckily, the one guy Riftan was not prickly around was Jameson, which meant we spent a lot of the night side by side, bonding over way too many drinks. Getting to know him was like meeting a best friend for the first time. He was authentic and playful, hooting and hollering one minute and sharing profound philosophicals the next. His humor was witty, and his smile could cure depression, fangs and all.
He and Riftan were a strange pair. The two of them got along like two peas in a pod, but the acts they put on were far from parallel. Jameson flaunted as the life of the party, and Riftan was like a fly on the wall. It made me wonder how they might get along in private, since I knew my Riftan was a little different than the Riftan who silently lurked at my side. In a different setting, the two of them might show more similarities than one would think from the outside looking in. But I was no longer an outsider, and I knew Riftan well enough to see they were one in the same: they laughed at the same jokes, celebrated each other’s accomplishments like they were their own, and I could swear they’d finished each other’s sentences at least once or twice. If I could get the two of them out of this crowd, I thought I might see Riftan climb right out of his shell.
About half-past five in the morning, things started to settle down. Several guests had already said their goodbyes. As it turned out, not all vampires had access to spells or items that permitted them to go out in the sunlight, and they had to be back in their respective hotels before sunrise. As they’d made it seem, many of them were accustomed to living their lives that way. It wasn’t a nuisance to them, merely a way of life.
The dwindling number of party members hadn’t affected Jameson’s and my banter. Rather, the two of us had started prattling on about past lives and long-lost loves. Things were getting personal, juicy, collusive—Jameson was spilling all the tea. I hadn’t had this kind of ginger platonic gossip since talking with Jayleen back in Creswell. I’d missed it… more than I’d realized.
I leaned in, hanging on Jameson’s every word like I might fall off the edge of his story when Riftan squeezed my waist from where he sat on the counter behind me. In a whisper, he gently urged, “We should go soon. You two are the only ones still carousing.”
My heart dropped off the ledge, and Jameson’s story came up short when he focused his attention back on Riftan’s stoic form at my back.
Jameson pulled away, glancing around the room with high brows like reality had only presently begun to exist for him. I followed his gaze to see that the room was mostly empty. A couple chatted quietly on the couch, and someone admired the few remaining stars in the morning sky out on the balcony. The two whom I’d met as the owners of the hotel room were nowhere to be seen, assumingly having retired for the day. Jameson agreed with Riftan’s notion. “Yeah, it’s probably time to get out of here.”
“You can come back to our condo,” I offered, before looking up at Riftan for confirmation.
His grumble vibrated against my back before he could express his complaint. “It’s early. Can’t we go home and go to bed?”
It had been a while since the last time we’d had a full day’s rest. I’d noticed I didn’t need as much sleep as a vampire, but I did eventually get rather tired if I wasn’t resting long enough. “Please?” I begged, blinking rapidly at him.
Jameson imitated me, pleading, “Please,” in the same tone.
Riftan rolled his perfect eyes at Jameson before looking back at me. “Fine. But you both owe me. I wanted to go to bed.”
“Thank you!” I twirled around, taking him by the hand and pulling him off the counter and toward the exit elevator.
Back at the condo, the three of us played two rounds of blackjack, in which Jameson was the resounding winner. It was much harder to win the game when everyone else had the same abilities to cheat as I did.
Taking his victory lap, Jameson got up from the table to refill our drinks. With merely a step toward the kitchen, he disappeared in a flash of smoke and reappeared once more behind the counter.
I cocked my head at him, stopping mid-sentence with my mouth agape. My prior subject forgotten, I asked, “Hey, how do you do that?”
“What, this?” He disappeared and reappeared in front of me again with a mischievous grin smattered over his lips.
He wasn’t moving at some indiscernible pace, he was actually teleporting the same way Riftan did.
“Yes! How?”
“Magic, I suppose, is the best answer.”
“Did Riftan teach you that?” According to Jameson, Riftan had taught him almost everything he knew, like he was now doing for me.
“Hell no. That’s the one thing he said he wouldn’t teach me. I had to figure it out on my own.” Jameson snickered and shot a teasing glance at Riftan.
If he’d refused to teach Jameson, then he probably wouldn’t teach me either. So, I went out on a limb and asked, “Will you teach me how to do that, Jameson?”
He looked at Riftan, who was already arguing against it. “Magic is complicated,” Riftan said, “especially for beings like us who weren’t born to handle it. Shadow fading is a simple spell meant for vampires, but it opens you up to other, more dangerous, options. That’s why I didn’t want to teach it to either of you.”
Is Riftan seriously describing it as a gateway drug—gateway magic?
Jameson nodded in agreement. “I know. But what if I promise you that I’ll only teach her this one thing? She’s going to figure it out eventually, and wouldn’t you prefer it was from someone trustworthy?”
Again, with the strange, illicit substance innuendo.“You guys are only making me more curious,” I chimed in from behind their conversation.
“Fine,” Riftan finally conceded. “I trust your judgment, Jameson. Don’t let her get into any trouble, okay?”
Straightening up and plastering a smooth grin over his lips, Jameson bowed toward Riftan respectfully. “I wouldn’t dream of it!” With that, Jameson was pulling on my elbow, coaxing me out of my chair.
“Right now? Where are we going?”
“For a walk. You need more space for me to teach you this.” He linked his arm with mine and ushered me toward the front door.
Behind us, Riftan watched closely, his gaze flickering between the two of us. Our eyes met and his softened, lips curving tenderly until the ends of his fangs showed. He raised his glass to me in farewell, never dropping my gaze.
“Are you not coming?” I asked.
Without looking back, Jameson added, “He needs to stay here. He’ll only be a distraction.”
Riftan didn’t budge from his spot at the table. “You two can go have fun, I’m going to bed. Just remember what I said about staying out of trouble. It’s mid-day, after all.”
“Oh, okay. Bye.” Before crossing the threshold of the door, I waved goodbye, my heart sinking as if I wasn’t going to ever see him again. This was, after all, the first time since we’d met that I’d gone anywhere without him.
Unconcerned by the way I dragged behind, Jameson led us down the stairwell and out onto the streets below with a bounce in his step.
The cobblestone sidewalks were relatively barren of humans, the weather that day was too crisp and cold for their liking. Out there, Jameson and I were solitary, not a soul in sight.
“Sorry to steal you away.” Jameson squeezed my arm in his. “But now we can talk without Riftan over your shoulder.”
Something in my chest strained thinking of how attentive Riftan had been, practically loitering everywhere I went that night.
“I’m simply curious,” Jameson continued, “how did you tame my grumpy lone wolf?”
A puff of fog followed the laughter from my lips. “What do you mean?” Against the cold air, heat still stained my cheeks.
“I mean, Riftan is completely different with you than I’ve ever seen him before. Unless it’s work-related, I’ve never seen him show an interest in someone the way he does you. You know he only befriended me because we were working together, right?”
“Well, yeah. But even now, he still likes having you around.”
“For short periods, maybe. He’s always been that way. As long as I’ve known him, he’s been solitary. He’s never liked keeping any company… except for you.”
My laughter turned to a nervous babble. “I think you’re mistaken. He’s simply training me. Like he did you and everyone else he’s turned. That’s all.”
“You’ve already been with him longer than I’d have expected him to keep anyone around. He only trained me for about a year, and I know that was longer than normal. You’re running up on a year now, aren’t you?”
Bile singed my throat, the thought of completing my training with Riftan being too icky to manifest. My life was aligned with his. I couldn’t imagine living without him again. “I suppose you’re right.” I simply had to admit the facts. “But do you really think he’ll send me on my way soon? I don’t feel ready for that.”
Jameson looked me over, his dark eyes thick with sympathy for an emotion that must have been oozing out of me. In response, his look softened. “It’s hard to tell with him. He seems so smitten with you, it’s hard to imagine that he would.”
“Honestly, I don’t want to go anywhere that isn’t with him.”
“I know. I can tell.” Silence lingered for a moment before Jameson chippered up, bringing his voice back to its normal cheery octave. “Don’t worry about it too much. He’s hard to read, but I think it’s all going to end up fine. You both care about each other, and he’s not going to do something that’d hurt you. I know that for sure.”
“Right, of course…” I wished I could convince myself of that beyond my lingering doubt.
With the sunlight barely making its way through the clouds, Jameson brought us to the park only blocks from the condo. There were so few people out, it was easy to find a wide-open space away from onlookers. Jameson insisted that it didn’t really matter if any mortals saw us, because they wouldn’t believe what they were seeing anyway.
For the next thirty to forty-five minutes, Jameson educated me on the basics of magic and how that pertained to shadow leaping, or as some called it: shadow-fading. “At first, you’ll have to recite an incantation. As you become more accustomed to using it, it’ll become second nature to recite it to yourself. Eventually, you won’t think about the words, you’ll simply be doing the action—much like it can be with hypnosis.”
His teachings were simple, and he spent as much time on the many rules as he did the actual lesson. But, in due time, I was doing it. I was actually using magic to teleport! More specifically, I could leap between shadows that were in sight. So, it wasn’t as profound as the mainstream concept of teleportation, and I couldn’t jump to Spain, but it was still really cool.
As the day waned, Jameson brought me back to the condo and said his goodbyes at the door.
“Can’t you stay longer?” I complained like a lonely child.
“I’ll stick around town for a little while so I can get to catch up with Riftan some more, but I’ve got work to attend to tonight. How about we all get drinks a couple of nights from now?”
“Okay, sounds good!” I gave him a warm hug and a goodbye.
Jameson was the first real immortal friend I’d made, and in that short time, he’d become my best friend.
In the end, I was grateful Riftan had made me go to that trivial party. I’d made connections and had valuable experiences with other immortals that taught me a lot about this new world I’d gotten myself ensnared in.
Those bonds may prove to come to my aid sometime in my eternal future. Maybe earlier than predicted if Riftan decided to dump me off on my own soon.