My Vampire Plus-One

by Jenna Levine

“It feels like a mausoleum.” I snorted. “Been in a lot of mausoleums?” “More than you might think.”

On the scale of bad ideas I’d had over the past three hundred years, placing my hand at the small of her back and guiding her into the seedy bar a few blocks from her office probably ranked somewhere between Mardi Gras, 1989, and that thing I did that one time in Paris.

She smiled at me, so warm and genuine it felt like the sun emerging after a century of slumber, and Hades help me, I was lost.

“I’m not attracted to him,” I said. I wasn’t. I mean, sure, he was attractive. And yes, I found myself revisiting funny things he’d said or kind things he’d done at odd moments. Like when I was taking a shower, or riding the El to work, or trying to focus on this damn Wyatt filing. But none of that meant I was attracted to him. Did it?

But as luck would, or wouldn’t, have it, he looked fantastic.

Oh, and I hope it’s all right if you do all the driving. I never learned how.”

I was going to be snowed in at my family’s cabin, alone, with my uncomfortably attractive fake boyfriend. But it was totally fine.

“It’s not that,” he said. “I need explicit permission before entering someone else’s home, remember?” He paused. “Like at your Aunt Sue’s party.”

Two thoughts went through my mind simultaneously: Oh, good. Those beds were uncomfortable as hell and made me feel like I was nine years old. And: Oh my god, there’s only one bed.

SOPHIE: You’re snowed in with your fake boyfriend??? ALONE????? Are you KIDDING ME???? I groaned. If nothing else, this would definitely be a memorable weekend.

Are you falling for her? REGINALD: FALLING for her? REGINALD: Absolutely not FREDERICK: Oh so you’re just randomly thinking about someone other than yourself for the first time in 200 years, then?

Despite the blizzard he had somehow managed to get two boxes of frozen imitation fish sticks, baby carrots, Oreos, a five-pound bag of russet potatoes, four dozen eggs, and an absolutely enormous bag of Hot Cheetos while I slept.

“The truth is, I quite like making you happy.” He shook his head. “I’m frightened to think too much about what that means, because I honestly can’t remember the last time I wanted to do anything for another person, simply for its own sake. And without having an ulterior motive.” His eyes, when they met mine, were so intense I had to look away. “But for you, I would brave a blizzard just to see you smile.”

I would brave a blizzard just to see you smile. I might have been an accountant, but I wasn’t made of stone.

He must have realized he’d crossed a line because he pulled back immediately. “I’m…sorry.” He squeezed his eyes shut tight and hung his head. “I just—sorry.” He carded a hand through his hair, tugging on it nervously. “Just because you’re okay with kissing a vampire…no. I shouldn’t have assumed you were also okay with my tasting your blood.”

And for the first time since I’d met him, I saw the points of what were very obviously vampire fangs.

The dark secret he’d been harboring wasn’t that he was between jobs, or was unemployed. It was that he was a vampire.

Reggie stared at me wide-eyed, scrutinizing my face. Whatever he saw there must have answered whatever questions he had, because his expression changed into something akin to horror. “You didn’t believe me when I told you. You thought I was joking.” He jumped away from me, as though terrified his touch would scald me. “Oh, Hades, Amelia—”

Okay, yes. I was snowed in at my family’s Wisconsin cabin with a vampire. And yes, a few minutes ago he’d wanted to drink my blood as part of some kinky sex thing. But when I was finally able to quiet the shrieking sound in my head enough to string two coherent thoughts together, I realized that if Reggie wanted to kill or otherwise hurt me, he likely would have done it already.

Do they recoil at the sight of sharp sticks?

But he’s been so nice to you.”

“I ran out of the room before I could find out for sure, but I think that when he realized I’d had no idea what he was, he felt really bad about it.”

For the first time, I thought I was catching a glimpse of the real Reginald. It made him seem more human, I realized with a start. How ironic.

Drinking it cold is like having sex while wearing three condoms. Or watching Hulu with commercials.”

“Yes. But if you’re frightened—” “I’m not.” All at once, I realized it was the truth.

But we already knew our brother was odd. Stop.

The storm outside wasn’t helping. Everything that seemed terrifying about stormy winter nights when I was a child seemed possible now. Monsters lurking under the bed. Witches who would cook your bones into a stew.

The Wyatt Foundation greatly appreciates your assistance with our tax matter and we appreciate you setting up a time to meet with us in person. As such, we will reach out very soon about when it might be convenient for me to come by. Incidentally, does your office ever hold meetings in the evenings? If not, I am sure we can make a daytime arrangement work; I just wanted to double-check, as evening usually works best with my schedule, my circadian rhythms etc.

The attached documents included a nearly indecipherable firsthand account of what I thought might have been a 1952 Tunisian fabric store opening and a medical journal piece called Inexplicable Exsanguination: A Path Forward.

but my sense that we should close this damn file instead was growing steadily.

“First of all, I am not a boomer. But no,”

“The problem with young people is not that they’re lazy. It’s that they think they have unlimited time. So they postpone the fun parts of life thinking they can get to those later. Only at the end do they realize how badly they squandered…well. Everything.”

Located quarry. Stop. Was not fishing at all! Stop. Fled to Wisconsin with human!! Stop. We made slight detour en route to tour cheese factory roadside billboard advertised as “Best Cheese Curds in Whole Gosh Darn World.” Stop. Have long been fascinated by cheese. Stop. How it’s made. Stop. How and why do cheese curds squeak? Stop. Want to know science behind it. Stop. Tour should be quick. Stop. Once finished, will bring prey to ground. Stop. Will bring gift from factory shop as apology for delay. Stop.

“I’ll warn you, though—I’m competitive.” “So am I.” “No, really though,” I said. “I always win. My strategy is foolproof.” He snorted. “I never took you as one to brag.” “It’s not bragging if it’s telling the truth.”

I see the world and live each day without fear because I know all too well there’s nothing left for me to lose.”

If her eyes had been open, she’d have seen it written all over my face just how desperately I was falling for her.

The rest, in a voice that sounded suspiciously like Frederick’s, threatened to stake me where I stood for even considering this.

ANDIFROMAUSTRALIA: when you say “this is REALLY fucking hard” do you mean the situation is hard or that *you* are hard? REGINALD_THE_V: I meant the situation but…both? ANDIFROMAUSTRALIA: YESSSSSS

I blinked my eyes open to the unpleasant aroma of burnt baking soda.

It only made me laugh harder. My eyes leaked with tears as I sat up and clutched my stomach. “Oh my god, I can’t—” “Do you have any idea how gorgeous you are right now?” His words cut through my hysteria like a knife. My laughter, the ridiculousness of our situation, melted away. All that was left was our proximity, the way our legs still tangled together beneath the covers—and his bright blue eyes, boring into mine. I swallowed. “I’m…I’m what?” “I’ve wanted to see you like this for what feels like a century,” he breathed.

“I’ve wanted to make you laugh like this since the night we met. You were terrible at pretending to laugh when I asked you to, but in hindsight I see that was a good thing. Because if I’d seen what you are like when you truly let go, I would have fallen to my knees. Right then and there.”

“Can I kiss you?” His voice had gone quiet. Almost shy. “I don’t want to make you—” “Yes.”

Confronted quarry outside of WI house where he was hiding. Stop. He flew off before we could apprehend. Stop. Based on wind patterns believe he is flying back to Chicago. Stop. (Wish I could fly too. Stop.) (Would simplify this WHOLE endeavor. Stop.) (Plus flying is just really cool. Stop.) Am bringing back gift of foam “Cheesehead” as penance for losing quarry when justice was nigh. Stop.

“Am I speaking with Ms. Amelia Collins?” Frederick’s manner of speech was oddly formal in such a specific way that I was immediately able to place him. I also remembered he was a huge Taylor Swift fan. Which, now that I knew he was a centuries-old vampire, was equal parts fascinating and bizarre.

How was it possible that the last foreign return they’d filed had been for an ironworks in Milan in 1923?

“He also said that leaving you when he did is one of the hardest things he’s ever done. He placed special emphasis on the word hardest, but out of concern for my own sanity, I refuse to analyze why that might be.”

Realizing I still had almost no idea what was normal for vampires, I asked, “Can all vampires fly?” “No,” he said tersely. “I cannot fly.” “Do you have special abilities, too?” “Yes, but…We’re getting sidetracked.”

“I can tell you that they pose as humans most of the time. The latest I’ve heard is that they run a farce of a nonprofit organization that doesn’t do much of anything besides hold board meetings.”

AMELIA: I’m getting plowed! FREDERICK: That’s what she said I stared at my phone. I didn’t know Frederick well, but what little I did know made it hard to imagine him making such a crass joke.

And then, because I couldn’t resist, I teased, “It’s been a long time since I’ve been ghosted for sex, you know.”