We have done this a hundred times, and I feel like I'm going to break something each time we reach a failing point. I let out a growl of frustration as Hailey puffs before gazing at me angrily. We’re in the basement of my latest purchase. An out-of-town two-story house, outside of New Jersey. 

"Do it again," I demand. We’ve been trying to track down the FLAME MOUNTAIN Coven, but with no luck.  

"I’m weak. I need to rest," she replies from the floor, her eyes fixed on the other witch in the circle. The witch who will lead us to the source of the curse. I know Stella would disapprove of this. Of me using a young girl to do my bidding, putting her life at risk, but as I glance at her unconscious body while we’re no closer to finding the answer, I don’t give a damn.  

 The only thing I think of is Stella, and failing her once again. She would not agree to this, but she shouldn’t see herself dead time and time again. She doesn’t have to feel the helplessness over and over.

"You have six hours to rest and arrange the girl for another try!" I snap before turning to the stairs and going outside.

John, who stood at the end of the room, catches up with me and says, "Will, wait. We'll do it. But you also need to rest."

"I'll rest when I know Stella is not going to die in my arms again," I reply, my voice breaking a little. 

All I want is to keep my promise to her. The promise we made a long time ago. To be there for one another. To always protect each other. Always love each other.

"Where are you going?"

"I'm going to the club to see Dima."

"Are you sure that’s a good idea?"

"No, but I don't have much of a choice. Dima can't know what's going on here. And you know how curious that son of a bitch is."

"I should have killed him decades ago," John replies angrily. 

Stella doesn’t know John, but John knew Stella very well, through the rescue crusade I set up hundreds of years ago. I met John after the third time Stella died. I was in a dark place that I didn’t think I could free myself from. At the time, I didn’t believe there was even a slim chance of saving her. Us. Every time, she began to remember the past. The memories flooded her, and her curiosity always grew. She was always curious to the bone.

I'm almost certain the phrase "curiosity killed the cat" was created because of her.

Every time the memory floats through her, she comes to me as if my soul is calling to her, begging, only to die in my arms.

I was so deeply immersed under the curse that life without Stella was not worth living. The memories of her death reminded me of my punishment, my part of the curse, and each time, I pushed her cold body away from me. The pain in my chest was too great. I have never been a believer. I always thought faith belonged to fools. But this night, I wished faith would spring up and ease the pain her loss had left in me.

I tried many ways to end my existence. On this attempt, I drained myself of blood, thinking it would dehydrate my body enough to destroy me completely. So when I walked down the street with the feeling of the end inside me, I didn’t expect to meet brutality itself. I picked up the smell of blood right away. I don’t know if it was because of the hunger or the small whimper that cut through my ears, but I couldn’t give up yet.  

I grab the two guys closest to me and push them backwards. Mustering the remainder of my strength, I leap towards the group of boys huddled in a circle.

I spot a boy on the floor. His body contracts, and pleading sounds come from his lips. The three bullies kick him cruelly and utter sarcastic words. They notice me immediately, and three of them charge at me. Foolish boys. 

Without hesitation, I squeeze my fingers around the two near my throat before throwing them aside with a hard thump. I kick the last guy's package, sending him to the ground crying like a baby before pulling him to stand. 

"Who are you?" he asks, terror flashing in his eyes. 

"I'm your worst nightmare," I say firmly. This close to him, I can hear his heartbeat increasing. I can guess how sweet his blood would be. He tries to break free, but it’s pointless; I’m stronger, and I am going to eat this motherfucker.

Before I can change my mind, I flash my teeth and sink them into his soft skin. Just as I fucking thought. Sweet. Especially when he fights. It adds a unique flavor. 

Feeling full and satisfied, I detach my teeth from his skin and release my grip on his body. He falls to the ground. I pass his still body and turn to the boy lying on the floor. I lift him and say, "Shhh. Don't worry. Everything will be fine now."

"Thank you," he whispers.

"What’s your name?"

"John."

"Will? You okay?" John asks, pulling me from my thoughts.

"Yeah. I’ll be in touch."

Three hours later, I walk by the club entrance, noticing Brody, the bouncer. Greeting him as always, I ask, "How's inside?"

"Busy as always."

"Excellent." I force a smile and go in.

I frown at the sound of the loud music. All I crave at the moment is quiet, especially after another failed attempt to remove the curse.

I cross the dance floor full of people succumbing to the moment, to the passion of alcohol, to music.

I envy them. I envy the momentary calm they feel. I will never be able to feel that calmness. Not until I know Stella is safe by my side forever.

I walk into my office, knowing that Dima will soon come here to mock my pain, as he has been doing for years now. Sometimes I wonder why I keep enduring his bullshit.

Maybe I should change tactics. Instead of trying to remove the curse, I should kill Dima first. The world would be better without Dima in the picture. I have no doubt about that. Stella would disagree with me, of course. How could she not? He is her brother. A brother who was always greedy for all she had. A brother who did not even mourn her before taking all her money.

I sit down on the chair and try to relax.

Dima must not find out what I'm planning. If he finds out, I'll lose everything that matters to me. I will let Stella down.

This time, it has to work.

After I manage to organize my thoughts on the work and shift the pressure aside, I start to deal with the paperwork lying on the table. As I go through all the paperwork, I reach the new contract I need to sign by tomorrow for the part ownership of the new club in Bridgewood. I decide to take advantage of the fact that Dima is gone and go out and recheck it.

With super speed, I reach the entrance. I nod to the guard before going inside. The club is decorated in a different style from WIX. The entrance is wide and allows a sharp turn to the heart of the club and another turn to the cloakroom.  

Everything reeks of luxury, from the color of the walls to the sparkling ceramic floor. 

I cut through a bunch of people standing in the middle of the room and head to the bar.

"Neat whiskey," I say to the young bartender and sit down on the bar stool. She sends me a curious smile and turns to make the drink.

A second later, she places the glass on the counter and whispers, "please" in a sultry voice.

Ignoring her attempt at seducing me, I glance at the busy dance floor as I take a long sip of the liquor. I long for at least a moment of drunkenness that I know won't come. Being a vampire comes with certain benefits. Benefits that sometimes feel like immense distress. I wonder what would happen if my body reacted to alcohol. Could compulsive drinking be a part of my life?

Would I give in to drinking instead of focusing on the goal I set for myself so long ago?

I suppose I will never know.

So focused on my thoughts, I don't notice that I'm moving from the bar toward the dance floor.

Until I see her. Her body moves in harmony with the background of the music. Her hands are in the air, and her hair is moving from side to side.

I slam the empty glass on the nearest table I find before turning back to her. She's gone. Where is she? 

I’m scanning the dance floor impatiently until I notice the trail of her long black hair. Every bone in my body screams at me to follow her, find her, get her, and make her remember. I can’t help it. I'm a man with a mission.

I cut across the dance floor, the fear of losing her creeping in. All the time, I can’t help but wonder if this is the right thing to do. To see her. Confront her.

I feel powerless under the force that draws me to her. She feels it too. 

I follow her into the ladies’ bathroom. 

"What are you doing here?" she asks, startled.

"Stella, here you are," I say, feeling the relief flooding through me. 

Being so close to her weakens me. She weakens me. Just admitting it throws me off balance. I guess she always had that power over me. But the longing for her only aggravates the feeling of helplessness. Despite my weakness, I feel like I can breathe next to her. Without Stella, everything is simply fiction.

"I was looking for you." I step forward, close enough to hear her heart beating like a drum in my ears.  

"I've been following you for a while," I admit.

"Why?" She whispers, her eyes looking deep into mine.

"Because you are special." I’m so close to her, I’m tempted to tell her the truth. Reveal everything in the hope that she won’t slip between my fingers this time. I want to say more. So much more.

"I'm not special; I'm nobody," she answers before slapping me. 

"I don't know if I’m intrigued by your boldness to strike me or offended about what you said just a second ago." 

"What?" 

"You are not nothing," I growl. She flinches.  

I remind myself that I went too far, that she's not guilty of not remembering. I push the frustration aside and continue, anger in my voice. "Nevertheless, dare not say it. Not anymore. It's enough that I feel you and what you feel towards yourself to send me on a journey of madness." 

Just standing next to her, breathing the same air is so crazy I think I’m about to lose my shit. My body knows her all too well, and my cock springs to life at the sight of her. All those years without her, being in the shadows, accepting glimpses of her living life without me was hard, but being this close to her and not touching her is much harder. So, I give in to the lust. The fight is over. 

She admits to recognizing me. To remembering me. Fear creeps in. Fear of losing her all over again. I thought I had more time to save her. I need more time. Fuck. 

 Get a grip, Will. Don’t you see that she is in pain and confused?

Shaking my head, I comply to her request, making her forget my loving her by making her mine again. The monster inside me is in a battle. He wants to fuck her raw. He wants to own her. He wants her forever. We have that in common. We both need her. She is the calm of the storm, the light in the dark, the fresh air in the morning.  

I collect her in my arms, and at the speed of a vampire, I bring us to the entrance of her apartment.

"How did we get here?" she asks in a small voice.

"I brought us here."

"I don’t understand."

"I need you to take out your keys."

"Okay," she whispers and slips her hands into her small bag. She takes out the bundle of keys.

After I open the door, I go into her room and help her lie on the bed.

"Why am I so weak? I don’t understand."

"You must not remember. Look at me," I command, and her confused eyes find mine. "You must not remember. You will forget that you saw me. You will forget that you remember. You just returned from a club you were at with your friend." Her pupils dilate, and she nods before closing her eyes and falling asleep.