Chapter 38
Chapter
Thirty-Eight
Simon watched Charlie sleep.
Seeing as he couldn't find sleep himself, it was all he could do.
The hotel room he'd booked them into was actually nice. It featured some real wood furniture and blackout curtains that reliably kept the sun out. Sheets with a thread count Charlie had marveled at before crashing so hard he'd slept for 24h straight.
They both had.
But that had been two days ago, and now Simon felt restless.
They couldn't stay in this hotel forever, but what were they going to do next? How were they going to live?
Slowly, Simon slid out of bed. Charlie stirred but didn't wake.
In the bathroom, Simon splashed water on his face and stared at his reflection. Same face. Different eyes. Red bled through the brown when he wasn't careful, when emotion ran too high.
He was a vampire now, through and through.
He didn't like that fact, but he was going to have to accept it eventually.
The face in the mirror scowled back at him.
"Simon?"
Charlie stood in the doorway, squinting against the bathroom light.
"Sorry. Didn't mean to wake you."
"Did you even sleep?"
Simon turned off the water. "Couldn't."
Charlie shot him a worried look. "Why not?"
"There's something I need to do." The moment Simon spoke the words, he knew they were true. "Before we can figure out what's next. I need to..." He stopped. Started again. "My mom. I need to visit her grave."
Charlie's expression softened. "Okay."
"I'd like to visit her tonight."
"Then let's go." Charlie was already turning back toward the bedroom. "Just let me find my shoes."
"Charlie…"
"I'm coming with you." Charlie looked back over his shoulder. "Unless you don't want me to?"
Simon's chest tightened. "No, I want you to."
They dressed quickly. Simon in his usual dark pants and leather jacket. Charlie in clothes they'd grabbed from a 24-hour store the night before. Now he had jeans that actually fit and a comfortable green sweater.
Simon's bike waited in the hotel's underground parking. By now, he had acquired a spare helmet for Charlie.
"Hold on tight," he warned as he handed it to him.
Charlie eyed the motorcycle with caution. "Where are we going first?"
"There's a flower shop on Madison Street. It closes at eight."
Charlie climbed on behind him, arms wrapping around Simon's waist. "Then we should probably hurry."
Simon kicked the engine to life and pulled out of the garage, Charlie's grip tightening as they merged into traffic. The city blurred past. Storefronts, streetlights, people heading home or heading out. Normal lives. Normal problems.
Simon wove between cars, probably faster than he should have, but the clock in his head kept ticking. He'd promised his mom proper flowers and he would not fail her.
They made it with three minutes to spare.
Simon cut the engine in front of a small shop with "Blooms" painted across the window in elegant script. The light was still on inside.
Charlie slid off the bike first, pulling off his helmet. "This is it?"
"She used to come here every other week." Simon dismounted, his hands flexing around the handlebars before he let go. "We couldn't afford much, but she'd buy whatever was on sale and put flowers in a vase on our kitchen table."
He pushed through the door before Charlie could respond.
A bell chimed. The woman looked up, her professional smile faltering slightly when she took in Simon's appearance. Whatever she saw made her pause.
"We're about to close."
"I won't take long," Simon said. "I only need some white lillies."
She looked at him for a moment then moved toward the back. After a minute, she returned with a bouquet wrapped in cream-colored paper. Perfect white lilies. "You're in luck, these are our last ones."
Simon smiled and paid her a little extra.
It wasn't often that he was in luck.
Well, it happened a little more often now that he was with Charlie.
Charlie, who stood outside waiting for him. He didn't ask questions when Simon emerged.
Simon secured the flowers carefully in the bike's storage compartment, handling them like they might wilt at a glance.
"Ready?" Charlie asked quietly.
Simon swung his leg over the bike. "Yeah."
The cemetery was across town, fifteen minutes in light traffic.
Charlie's arms stayed firm around his waist. Through their bond, Simon felt concern radiating, quiet support without words. No questions about why this mattered, why tonight, why at all.
Charlie just held on.
The cemetery gates stood open, the way they always did. Simon pulled into the small lot, empty except for a maintenance truck near the far entrance. He killed the engine.
Silence rushed in.
"I came here after we first met," Simon said. "When I couldn't figure out what you were."
Charlie's arms loosened but didn't let go. "What did you tell her?"
"That I was going to finish the job." Simon stared at the gates, at the winding path beyond them barely visible in the streetlight's reach. "That I'd figure out what you really were, and then I'd kill you. Like I killed all the others."
"Oh. I guess things didn't really turn out that way."
"No." Simon pulled off his helmet, ran a hand through his hair. "I guess they didn't."
He retrieved the lilies, cradling them against his chest. Charlie dismounted and stood beside the bike, watching him.
"I'll come with you," Charlie said. "Far as you want me to."
Simon's throat tightened. He managed a nod.
They walked through the gates together.
The cemetery transformed at night. No morning dew, no distant mourners, no birdsong. Just darkness and silence and the rustle of wind through old oaks.
Still, Simon's feet found the familiar path. Past the newer sections with their uniform markers, deeper into the old grounds where the trees grew thicker. He'd walked this route hundreds of times.
Charlie followed a few steps behind, quiet.
Finally, they reached their destination.
"Margaret Hale. Beloved Mother. 1978-2012."
Simon knelt. The damp grass soaked through his pants immediately, cold against his knees. He unwrapped the lilies and placed them against the headstone. Perfect white against gray stone.
Charlie touched his shoulder. Light. Barely there. "I'll be right over there."
He gestured to a bench maybe twenty feet away, half-hidden by another oak. Close enough if Simon needed him. Far enough to give privacy.
Simon nodded.
Charlie squeezed his shoulder once and walked away, settling onto the bench with his back against the tree. He pulled out his phone, the screen casting pale light across his face, but Simon could tell he wasn't really looking at it.
Just giving Simon space.
Simon sat back on his heels.
"Hi, Mom."
The words still felt stupid. Still felt like talking to nothing. But he said them anyway, like he always did.
"I brought better flowers this time, just like I promised." Simon licked his lips. There were so many more things he needed to say.
"Last time I was here, I promised I'd hunt down Charlie Dracul and eliminate him." Simon's fingers found a blade of grass, tore it into small pieces. "I was so sure I knew what needed to be done. What you would have wanted."
A car passed on the road beyond the gates. Distant. Irrelevant.
"Turns out I didn't know anything."
Simon's jaw clenched. Where to even start? How to explain the past few weeks when he barely understood them himself?
"I met your killer," he said flatly. "At some bullshit vampire healing center. He was just... there. Drinking ethical blood and talking about meditation like he hadn't murdered you in our apartment ten years ago."
His hands curled into fists.
"Reuben arranged your death." The words tasted like poison.
"All so I could watch it, so he could turn me into a better hunter.
" Something broke in his chest, turning his voice rough.
"I spent ten years following his orders, taking his pills, killing for him.
Because I thought he saved me. But he's the one who took you from me in the first place. "
The wind picked up, rattling branches overhead.
"I killed him," Simon confessed. "I put a bullet in him when he tried to kill Charlie. And I don't regret it. Not even a little."
He reached out, traced the carved letters of her name. The stone was cold under his fingers.
"Charlie's the vampire I was supposed to eliminate.
Hunt number one-eighteen. Except he's not really.
.." Simon stopped. Started over. "He's nothing like what I expected.
He showed me I was wrong. About vampires.
About the Organization. About what I was supposed to be.
" The words came harder now, scraping against something raw in his throat.
"He's kind, Mom. Genuinely kind. And the way he looks at me… "
Simon's vision blurred at the edges. He wasn't crying, though. He never cried.
"I'm a vampire now, but Charlie said I could choose what kind of vampire to be. That turning didn't mean I had to become what killed you. That I could be something different."
His hands shook. He pressed them flat against his thighs.
"I want to believe him. I want to…" Simon stopped. Breathed. "I don't want to live for revenge anymore."
He glanced back at Charlie. The person who'd given him a different kind of purpose.
"I love him." His words were almost a whisper. "I know it's fast. I know it's probably stupid. But it's true."
Simon's chest hurt like something vital had torn loose.
"Reuben wanted me to hate all vampires. But some of them are just people who got turned against their will and are trying to survive. Like Charlie. Like that kid I staked in Detroit who'd only been turned two weeks and was crying when I found him."
The memories pressed in. Every face. Every vampire he'd killed without asking questions. Without considering that maybe, just maybe, they weren't all monsters.
"I can't take back what I did. The people I killed. But I can stop doing it Reuben's way." Simon looked up at the oak branches overhead, at the stars barely visible beyond them. "There are vampires who hurt people, and they need to be stopped. But I won't kill indiscriminately anymore."
He pulled his gaze back to the headstone.
"I'll try to be someone you can be proud of. Someone who helps people instead of just killing them."
The wind died down. Silence settled over the cemetery like a blanket.
"I wish you'd gotten to meet Charlie. You would have liked him. He's stubborn and awkward and trips over his own feet, but he's got a good heart. Better than mine."
Simon stayed there a moment longer, hand against the granite, memorizing the shape of her name one more time.
Then he stood. His knees protested, damp from the grass. He stepped back, gave the grave one last look.
"I'll come back soon."
He turned.
Charlie stood by the oak tree, one hand resting against the bark. His eyes were wet.
Simon hadn't cried. But Charlie evidently had.
Of course he had.
Simon crossed the distance between them and pulled his soft vampire into his arms. They stood there for a while. No rush. No pressing danger. Just the two of them in a cemetery under old oaks while the city hummed in the distance.
Finally, Charlie pulled back enough to look at Simon's face.
"I know what we should do next."
Simon raised an eyebrow. "Yeah?"
"Yeah." Charlie's expression shifted, determined in a way Simon rarely saw from him. "Just like you said. We try to help people."
"Help who?"
"People like me. New vampires who don't know what they're doing. Who don't want to be violent." Charlie's grip on Simon's arms tightened. "The retreat was corrupt, but why can't we start one that isn't?"
Simon studied him. "You want to start a vampire support group."
"No. Well, maybe? Kind of?" Charlie's face flushed. "I want people to know they have options."
"It'll be difficult."
"I know that." Charlie's chin lifted, displaying that stubborn streak Simon secretly adored.
"But it's also right. And I'm tired of drifting and just letting life happen to me.
I want to actually do something that matters.
And besides, when we have a big community, we won't be easy targets whenever the organization reforms. I don't want to spend my life on the run. "
That was a valid point. "Okay."
"Okay?" Charlie blinked. "Just like that?"
"Just like that." Simon caught Charlie's hand, threading their fingers together. "We'll need a base, resources, and some way to advertise that doesn't attract too many bad players."
"Viktor might know people. And that librarian."
"Noah? You want his help?"
"Maybe." Charlie squeezed Simon's hand. "We'll figure it out."
They walked back toward the cemetery gates, hands linked, the flowers settled against his mother's grave behind them. The bike waited in the parking lot.
Simon paused before putting on his helmet. "You know this is going to be complicated. New vampires are unpredictable. We won't find many who are like you."
"We don't know that."
"Yes, we do," Simon insisted with a smile. He pressed a kiss to Charlie's lips. "No one's like you."
Charlie huffed and Simon laughed.
They mounted the bike. Charlie's arms wrapped around Simon's waist like he was never letting go.
Simon kicked the engine to life, and they pulled out onto the street, leaving the cemetery behind. The night spread out before them, full of problems and possibilities, hopes and tomorrows and entirely theirs.