As a mortal, Jelisette had been plain, but as a vampire, all her hard edges had been smoothed away. It was only right, since Isvana, thegoddess of the moon, blessed all her children with immortality, grace, and beauty.
At first, Jelisette had enjoyed the blessings of being a vampire. She derived a certain delight from being one of the most powerful creatures in the Republic of Balance. Although the continent was home to many, only vampires were truly immortal. Even the most powerful fae and elves Faded after many centuries of life.
But now, Jelisette found her immortal life tedious. She was tired of finding willing mortals to feed her hunger, tired of endless nights, tired of doing the same thing each and every time the moon rose.
She’d shadowed to this lake in the Northern Region, in the land previously known as the Kingdom of Eleyta, because she’d hoped to see the aurora. Hoped the brilliant lights would pull her out of this slump.
She stood, preternaturally still beneath the moonlight, with her hands in her pockets. Despite the snow falling leisurely from above, she wore a black sweater and jeans. Her phone, a new-ish invention that had been popularized two centuries ago, sat silently in her back pocket.
She wasn’t looking at the aurora, though.
She was still gazing at the man across the water. He was staring at her, too.
The man—the vampire—was tall. Even from here, she could make out the golden hue of his hair. His eyes were sharp—black, like hers, another marking of Isvana’s blessing—and his face was chiseled. A strong nose, chiseled jaw, and high cheekbones gave him an otherworldly, deadly beauty. He was clad in black, like her, although he wore jeans and a leather jacket.
But his eyes.
Ithiar help her, but they held a glimmer of wickedness that delighted her to no end. She was drawn to him, unlike anyone she’d ever been drawn to before.
The vampire tilted his head. The corner of his lips twitched, and he smirked. In a move she’d remember for the remainder of her immortal life, he winked.
Her jaw fell open. She had killed mortal men for lesser causes. But coming from him, it did nothing but send a flurry ofwarmth through her.
In the next heartbeat, enormous, jet-black bat wings made of shadows and darkness burst from his back. They filled out the night, drawing the darkness towards him. The nameless vampire nodded as if to say,nice to meet you, and then he launched into the sky like a dark angel.
Each flap of his wings was like a boom of thunder against the silent night.
The vampire rose in the air, and Jelisette broke into a run. Her arms pumped. Her legs ate up the distance as though it was nothing. She ran across the frozen ice as though it was a sheet of glass, her feet barely leaving prints as she moved with the speed and grace of her kind.
By the time she made it to the other side, he was gone.
“Damn it,” she cursed.
With her hands on her hips, she turned in a circle. The mysterious vampire had vanished as if he’d never been there. No prints, no scent, nothing. She would’ve considered that it was all some strange dream had a glimmer in the snow not caught her eye.
Jelisette bent and dug through the white power with her bare fingers. The cold pricked at her, acknowledging her presence, but it didn’t bother her. As a child of the moon, her blood ran as cold as ice.
There.
She plucked the smooth object out of the snow. Standing, she examined it beneath the light of the moon. It was a button, black like the starless night, except for the silver initials engraved into it.ES.
She ran her thumb over the carvings and brought the object to her nose. She inhaled deeply, calling on her vampiric senses to come to her rescue.
The faint scent of shadows, pine, and cinnamon lingered, wafting up to her. It beckoned to her, stirring at part of her soul that she’d thought was long since gone.
Jelisette’s fingers closed around the button, and she gripped it tightly.
Right then, she vowed to find her mystery man again, no matter howlong it took.
“Happy birthday!”The cheer rose through the crowded pub, and the ground shook as the two dozen gathered vampires stomped their feet.
Jelisette did not do that because, quite frankly, it felt beneath her, but she did lift her glass of blood wine in the air.
“Happy birthday, Narie,” she echoed before tipping back her cup and taking a long dredge of her wine.
Narie Bellant was newly Made, barely three decades out of her Fledgling years, and she still maintained many of her mortal qualities.
She stood at the front of the bar, her silky black hair in a high ponytail as she accepted kisses from Ilana and Justus, her partners. Dressed in a short silver dress that looked more like a napkin, she grinned. “Thank you, everyone. I appreciate you all coming out.”