Chapter 2 Rowan #3
All vampires had that, but the vast majority knew the modern world required civilization and repressed it.
Ibrahim said I had one of the weakest inner demons he’d ever heard with his limited psychic abilities, but at the moment it didn’t feel so feeble.
If releasing it didn’t involve hurting anyone, I could just abandon being sentient, having thoughts, and just give into the bloodlust.
But I hated hurting people. I’d had too much of fighting since I was old enough to hold a sword, and that feeling hadn’t decreased after more than a century of being alive.
Well, technically alive.
I was lonely, so damn lonely, so I picked up my landline that sat on the table next to my chair and immediately dialed up my closest friend left in the world.
As usual, it rang one-and-a-half times before the line clicked on, and a deep, booming voice answered on the other side.
“Rowan! It is early. To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“Hey, Iko,” I said, the dark cloud within me already easing.
While some people had called me stodgy in my time, Iko was old-fashioned in a way that was just about the opposite of the coven.
Real fuddy-duddy type, which I adored. “Just had some plans cancel at the last moment, so I thought I might drop a line if you weren’t too busy? ”
“You know I always welcome correspondence from my greatest friend. Tell me, do you have news of any events we could traverse to in the light of the sudden freeing of your schedule?”
“No, my friend, I’m afraid not,” I said with a chuckle.
Ever since I’d accidentally—and quite literally—run into the cyclops in a former speakeasy that had been taken over by magical folks in 1938, we’d been thick as thieves.
We were both there to listen to the new, up-and-coming jazz singer who was half-siren, half-banshee, then had discussed the performance until dawn.
Iko never once mentioned my pallor, or my pale, lavender eyes, and at first, I was so impressed, until I realized that the cyclops was blind.
He’d lost his sight in an accident when he was a young warrior.
That had been the real glue that had bound us, and even so many decades later, our friendship was still going strong.
“You sound a bit glum, Rowan. Is something amiss?”
“Just more of the usual.” He knew exactly what I meant. Unfortunately, neither of us could seem to find a foothold among our communities. We were always on the fringe.
“How unfortunate.” There was a long pause as I heard my large friend shuffle around. “I tell you what, my good man. I just came into possession of a new record. If you like, we can listen to it together? I’ll put the receiver right by my gramophone, and we can enjoy a first listen as a pair.”
Now that sounded like a plan. I leaned forward, interest immediately piqued. “First listen, you say? I’m game. What’s the record?”
While music didn’t fix everything, it sure did a lot to help.
“It’s from the thirties, a little before we met, actually. It’s called By Chance It’s Love.”
I grimaced. Love wasn’t really a topic I wanted to be serenaded about at the moment, but at the same time, I couldn’t say no to what sounded like quite the find. Even though the sound quality over the phone wouldn’t be the greatest, it was about the experience and sharing it with my only friend.
“By all means, put it on. I’d love to hear.”
“I will expeditiously.”
Soon, the first smooth, honeyed notes drifted unhurriedly over the phone line as if it were a tangible bolt of satin floating through the air. I closed my eyes, letting it wash over me.
The entire first half of the record was a revelation. The impressive runs of the singer combined with a truly impeccable call and response between her and the band was everything I wanted and more. I was so into it that I physically jolted when it was time to flip the vinyl over.
“And this is a human artist?” I asked.
“Indeed it is. They are amazing creatures, aren’t they?
” Iko mused, and I could tell he was just as into it as I was.
We’d likely spend hours discussing it once we were done listening.
“It’s a shame that we have to keep so separate from them.
I understand why; I’ve seen them do truly horrific things as much as I’ve seen the truly triumphant, but still…
I think it would be lovely if we could interact more. ”
“Hmm, I suppose I’ve never thought of that.”
“That’s all right. It’s an errant folly anyway. Humans will be humans, and we will be… what we are.”
“What we are indeed.”
But then the second side started, and we were back in our reverie.
I wished it could last forever, but Iko wasn’t nocturnal like I was.
Eventually, the record was accompanied by exactly the type of snoring one would expect from an almost middle-aged cyclops.
As far as I knew about his people, Iko was similar to a thirty-five-year-old human man.
Chuckling to myself, I wished him sweet dreams, then hung up the phone. What a lovely change to the tone of the evening.
But that peace could only last so long. As the hours of the night ebbed toward those first creamy tendrils of the dawn, I began to feel… unsettled.
Looking to occupy myself, I figured I should look up the discography of the artist and see whether she always had the same band or different ones on different albums. Or even if she was a one-album wonder.
I pulled out my phone to search the artist. Even though humans could be very dangerous, their technology sure was nice.
When I remembered to use it, that was.
When I typed in the album title, the first thing in my results was a sponsored ad for what looked to be a dating app. A human dating app. I wrinkled my nose. Why would a search for information start off with a digital form of a commercial?
I went to scroll past it, but something stopped me, and I read the link preview. It was indeed a dating app for humans, called ByChance. Ah, so that was why it’d come up.
But still… wasn’t that curious?