I lit another cigarette while glancing at the door. Without thinking, my foot began tapping the break pedal, matching the rhythm of my heart's racing beat. Catching myself, I flicked my ashes. 

"Real good, Catherine. Nothing like waving a red flag to show everyone you're here", I said out loud, chastising myself as I reverted to tapping the steering wheel with my empty hand.

It would be easier to just go in… my way. Instead, I sit here hungry and frustrated, trying to make my decision. My stomach panging with urgency. It's been too long since I fed. 

When I left home, I knew exactly what I was going to do. During the drive here however, my thoughts became jumbled and confused. This indecisiveness really bothering me since my actions were always based on clear thinking and detailed planning. 

The fog began rolling in from the bay, slipping across the black paved-over earth, swirling above the array of potholes in distaste. The voids were full of dirty water from yesterday's rain and the constant barrage of cars and trucks dragging their collective waste over the pavement. The dull grayish-white mist making it look cleaner than it ever looked in the daylight hours. This was the garment district and the roads here aren't maintained. 

The smell of the fog lingered in my senses, bringing a welcome sweetness mixing with the salt from the bay water. It almost masked the stench of the food processing warehouses two streets over. 

"Is he going to stay in there all night?" My words sounding harsh with my flaring anger, as I remembered our last meeting. It was a night full of cross words, leaving a painful residual. I stared at the door, as if willing it to immediately open and chuckled at myself while putting out my cigarette. 

The unembellished office door of the dreary building finally creaking open, catching my attention. The small street light flickered, revealing a man moving onto the first step of the deteriorating concrete entrance. He stood clutching his full-length trench coat with one hand, wrapping tightly around him like it would protect him. 

"Look at him… What is that coat going to protect him from? The elements? His fears shouldn't be the fog… maybe what's hidden by its mist though", I whispered sarcastically through my thin lipped grin. 

Turning his head, the light came cascading down, corrupting his strong jaw line with abstractions of light and shadows. I couldn't help but smile watching that face nervously scan the barren street. Nothing moved, as he glanced through the tonnage of automobiles and empty trucks that lined the road. My car being lost in its masses. Funny how one can sit in plain sight, and never be seen, I thought staring at him. 

He locked the door, jiggling the knob, as if testing its impenetrability. ‘I could go through that poor excuse of a door without any trouble…and so could any second-rate thief. Maybe that's why he takes every penny of cash out each night in that oversized metal briefcase. Not that there is ever enough money in there to make it worth a thief's effort, at least one that was worth more than a mom and pop liquor store job anyway.’ I thought watching him as his attention went to checking the closure on his dented old case. 

I told him long ago that he should let me buy him a good briefcase but he said that one held sentimental value. ‘Yea, well that was one sentiment I wish he hadn't hung onto. Maybe if he hadn't, I wouldn't be sitting here.’ My thoughts began running in two directions. Part of me wanted revenge. The other part wanted his love – the way it used to be. I started to light another cigarette and paused, realizing the flash from my lighter would be a dead give away to my presence. 

My stomach twinged again, this time with the beginning pain that I knew would increase rapidly. I tried pushing its nagging churning aside, watching him. He stepped down onto the cracked sidewalk, looking my direction but still he didn't see me. 

A smile replaced the angry indigence on my lips, as he looked up to the night sky in his cowardly refusal to see what was really there. Trying to find his peaceful resignation in the false world he safely creates for his mind. It was like watching a toddler scribbling with crayons over a gentle watercolor. Smothering the whole because he dislikes the lack of continuity created in the brush strokes by the artist. He's too closed minded to see the real beauty, changing the reality to what he feels is comfortable. 

I couldn't help but think, ‘He is so much a child… afraid of the darkness the night brings. Well, not the darkness really but what was hinted to live there. If only he knew…’

He began tugging his coat sleeves down tighter to his wrists, shrugging his shoulders, trying to shake off the cool moisture of the air whispering around him. He glanced back in my direction blindly before heading to his car. 

A soft smile came to my face as the light fully revealed his features. He truly is attractive, although I wish he hadn't cut his blond hair so short. I preferred it in its former state, long, past his shoulders. He said it was more professional short. He used to keep it in a ponytail, but what did it matter? He was the boss, at least in dealing with his business… as boring as it was. 

He fumbled with his keys, dropping them and bent picking them up, then he turned abruptly in my direction again. ‘Had he seen me after all?’ An uncertainty filling my mind as my hands tightened the grip I held on the steering wheel. ‘ No.’ I released my breath, realizing what caught his attention. 

He heard the rattling of the truck pulling out from the far end warehouse and it startled him. He bore a nervous smile, staring at it momentarily, then turned to his car. He got the car open and slipped in, quickly locking the door as soon as he was inside. 

Funny, all the time I have known him, I never realized how skittish he was. Watching him made me realize he is afraid of even the smallest things. I began wondering if he was worth taking such time in making my decision. Then I remembered the way we were together, before the deterioration of out relationship. He has such a gentle touch, making me feel so alive, but…

His car started, the engine angrily coughing into compliance and he pulled away from the curb. I watched him pull up to the stop sign and turn right, heading out to Main Street. I turned the key in my ignition. My car started right up, eager to follow him. Lighting another cigarette, I made a U-turn, tailing him at a safe distance. 

He made his usual stops. First the bank, to deposit the little cash he carried from the office. Then the butcher shop, to get bones for his mutt and then the liquor store. Actually it was a huge discount warehouse he claimed contained quality wines - but realistically they sold mostly the rejects from real stores. 

He liked a glass of wine when he got home. He had told me several times that he never knew what wine would please his palate ahead of time so he bought it each night. I thought that was absurd but this was a ritual for him long before we met. 

I lit a new cigarette from the dying one, thinking my mind was made up. Before it smoldered into nothingness my mind started changing again. 

"What is with me tonight? Why is he giving me such grief? I should just…"

He walked out carrying his newfound treasure. ‘What's this?’ My mind began whispering madness as I spied him from across the parking lot. He carried a bag containing two bottles. This was unusual for him… Maybe he experienced a bad day and planned on getting drunk, but that would be unusual too. Not the bad day - he had those all too often, especially as of late, but getting drunk? Why else would he buy two bottles? My curiosity spurred, watching him through narrowed eyes. 

He slipped into his car, again locking the door immediately. I laughed out loud to myself at his glancing around apprehensively. So afraid of things he knows nothing about. Granted, a lot of people have fears but most outgrow them, at least on the surface as they mature… He never did, remaining a child in so many ways. Maybe that is part of my attraction to him? 

His car started, sputtering as he backed out of the parking space. I waited until he pulled onto the street before following. As I fought with my thoughts, the hunger began twisting inside, no longer being just the pangs. I needed to feed soon. 

His car eased up to the curb in front of a chain store express coffee shop. Another odd change from his normal routine. He didn't drink coffee at night. Watching him go in, I maneuvered my car around, parking across the
street so I could see inside the large paned glass front. 

He stood at the counter. Probably ordering a latte, surely caffeine free, knowing him. Then he walked over, smiling broadly and sat at a table… with a woman. She was a pretty blond, slender figured. They talked a while and I decided it must be business, soothing the jealousy that started, adding more discomfort to my hunger pains. Then the woman caressed his cheek and he turned his head, nuzzling her hand. 

"Look at him! Like a lap dog! Well, this is certainly not business. At least not his type of business, even if it is hers", I spoke snidely to myself with my anger flashing again, this time wanting to erupt. 

In frustration I began searching in my purse. ‘Where is it? I know I brought it!’ My thoughts screaming in my head with panic, fearing that I had somehow forgotten it. Then my hand touched the smooth metallic side of what I searching for. Wrapping my hand around it's cool metal exterior, I gently withdrew it. My hands shaking as I fumbled with it. I laid it in my lap, taking a deep breath, trying to calm the shaking of my hands. 

I rested until my shaking subsided a little. Looking into my lap, I picked it up, running my fingers carefully over the shiny nickel-plated surface. I stared at my hands as they began to tremble again. I quickly began opening the cap on the familiar flask I carried ‘just in case’.

Glancing back at him in the coffee shop, I paused, losing all thought, then the pains started anew. The sharp pains bolted through me, my mind flooded, seeing only the need. I drank the tepid liquid from the flask. Hoping it would ease the pains and let me regain control over my mind and instincts, or at least take the shakes away. Closing my eyes, I leaned back against the headrest, waiting for the contents of the flask to take effect. It helped, but not much. 

Opening my eyes, I looked to the coffee shop again. He stood up, preparing to leave. He bent over, kissing the woman briefly on the lips. My anger surging , forcing me to make up my mind, with certainty and this time… finality. 

He walked out, got in his car, locking the door and started it. It stalled and he started it again, then moved onto the road with the car chugging down the street. 

I followed, now feeling strong in my decision. Yes, my mind is finally made up. 

He drove without anymore detours to his home, pulling into the narrow alley around the back to the garage of his upstairs condominium. The building itself appeared plainly old, not even having an elevator to the third floor, but the interior was beautiful. It was filled with antique cherry-wood furnishings with ornate carvings of the Old-English styled depictions of the hunt and landscapes of the eighteenth century throughout the entry and common areas. The spiral staircase in its center continued the theme with small-carved panels set in lengths sporadically placed within the banister. 

He had brought me here many times. On one occasion he ordered flowers that graced every flat surface in the entry. In addition to the floral arrangements, he hung a banner on the staircase, all as a welcoming home for me. The evening that followed was more romantic than words could express. As I remembered that night in particular, I decided not to use the main entrance. I was not going to change my mind again, not after these last months… no, not after just seeing him with that woman. 

Parking around the corner, I quietly made my way through the side entrance. The one primarily used by the maintenance and repairmen. I climbed the stairs to the third level where he lived. Cautiously opening the door and peering out to make sure the path was clear. He hadn't made it up the stairs yet. I slipped down the hallway and unlocked his door with the key he gave me, before he started losing interest. I once held such different plans for him…but now the decision was made. 

Looking back over my shoulder I saw a neighbor's hand reaching out of his door to grasp the evening edition of the local paper, then close, with him never looking down the hall at me. 

I quietly went in, locking the door behind me, moving into the living room. I glanced around. So many things I gave him over the last year or so. My picture was still on the end table… but face down. My eyes lingering on it, as my emotions burned hot, flickering from one point to another like a forest fire licking at the treetops before it devoured the whole. Brushing my hair from my face as I moved over, sitting in the corner chair, waiting…

Within moments I could hear his key in the lock. He turned on the entry light, going directly into the kitchen without coming down the hall to see me. Probably to pour his glass of wine. I sat silently in the unlit room as he rattled around in the kitchen not aware that I was there. He's mumbling something to himself, which I can't understand but I don't really care either. My mind is made up and the pains are getting worse. 

He walked out, wine in one hand and a bone in the other for the mutt, heading to the enclosed balcony to feed it. He flipped on the light switch with his elbow and stopped short when he saw me, relaxing and forcing a smile. 

"You startled me, Catherine. I wasn't expecting you. I was…I planned to call you… later tonight. See if you wanted to go out to eat, maybe in the next couple of days… depending on my schedule. The office is still a little hectic, but there are some things we need to discuss." 

Raising my brow I nodded toward the balcony. He looked to the bone he carried. 

"Oh, yeah, she's probably impatient for this, got home a little late tonight. You been here long?" He kept talking as he made his way to the glass doors of the balcony, opening it and tossing out the bone, with his mutt wagging her tail in anticipation. 

I answered, "No. New wine?", trying to conceal my irascible emotions. I realized I wasn't very successful as he shot me a strange expression. He walked back to the kitchen, returning immediately with another glass of wine,
which he offered to me. Taking the wine, I turned my head, noticeably staring at my picture that was face down on the end table. His eyes following mine, speaking as he walked over standing the picture upright. 

"Oh… the dog and I were horsing around. It a… it must have gotten knocked over… I guess." 

His tone making me wonder what he was hiding behind his unsettled and forced looking smile. Right now I wished that I held the ability to read minds but I didn't and it was too late. I couldn't help my sarcastic intonations when I answered. 

"Well, at least you managed to make time for the dog." 

Looking agitated, his soft brown eyes flashed, something they did when he felt cornered or frustrated. He moved to the sofa, sitting down on the end closest to my chair, releasing a deep sigh. 

"Catherine, you make it sound worse than it is. I've just been really busy these last weeks… I'm sorry I canceled so many plans with you. There're things you just don't understand, business things and I…" shaking his head, he stopped talking, staring at his feet. 

His words made me even more irritated. ‘Things I don't understand, business things, like that blond, yeah right... is she the sentiment you hang onto with that briefcase of yours?’ I said thinking to myself as I sipped the wine. It tasted horrible, definitely the ‘blue light special’, or maybe I was just too hungry. Either way, I didn't care for it, so I sat it on the coffee table. Lifting his head, he half grinned at me. 

"Catherine, what I really need right now is one of your great neck rubs, and not hearing anymore negative things. If you… Oh never mind." He gulped most of the wine from his glass, sat it on the table, then leaned his head back. 

I am really trying to control my anger at this point but it's surging strong, fueled with his over-rated self-importance. My hunger wailing, making things more difficult. I stood, walked behind the sofa and put my hands to the back of his neck. As my hands worked, releasing the tense muscles in his neck, he moaned. I've done this for him thousands of times, to the point of his expecting it without a word of thanks, just like now… 

The pain inside surged so strong it made me stop momentarily to force it back down and keep it from doubling me over. It subsided, somewhat. He never even noticed. I began working the tight muscles in his neck again. 

Looking down at him I began to realize I would miss him. 

I bent over, kissing his neck gently. He moved his head to one side, giving me better access. He loved having me nibble his neck. His eyes were closed with a contented smile on his lips. As I opened my mouth my incisors grew to their full extension. I nibbled his neck and kissed it once more. Then, without letting myself get lost in my feelings for him, I bit into his throat, piercing his jugular vein. He moaned again, sensuously…

There are two ways to feed. The gentle way causes an erotic feeling for the victim, as I was doing now. I loved him. I had nearly decided to take him as my eternal mate but ultimately he made me decide against it. Seeing him tonight, with that woman… that was the final deciding factor. 

The past several weeks had been so hard on me. He pushed me aside, except when his urges needed fulfillment. Then he would leave me alone again for what felt like an eternity, saying there was business to handle. He made me feel lonelier than I thought possible. This was compounded tonight, learning that he wasn't being faithful. To have him eternal, without trust? No, that just wouldn't do. 

Still, I held feelings for him, more than I had for anyone in a very long time. I couldn't let myself feed on him like another would have done, ripping his throat open violently. That was the second way to feed - and the most common. The violence made the victim's fear seep into the blood, giving it a sweeter taste but I couldn't do that to him. Call it my own twisted morals I guess. 

His hand reached up, caressing my cheek as I drained his blood. He was lost in the enchantment of my kind, he stroked my cheek lovingly, until it fell limp and lifeless. I continued hungrily feeding, until his heart stopped and I could pull no more from his collapsing vein. Sated and exhausted, I released him, moving around to sit next to his dead, but still warm, body. I sat there for several minutes, treasuring the satisfied fullness I felt. I still wished it could have been different. 

"A lovers blood truly is the sweetest, I think." I said out loud, running my fingers through his hair. "I just wish you could have been the one. You really could please me in so many ways". 

I pushed my emotions aside, assuring myself that there were more out there to choose from, plenty more. I stood, walking into the bedroom to gather the small amount of my belongings. 

It didn't take me long to get my personal items from the medicine cabinet, or my robe from the armoire but as I was getting my nightgown out of the dresser I noticed an envelope…with my name on it. I picked it up, moved over to the bed and sat, reading it. A tear escaped me while reading its contents. 

"My Sweet Catherine, 

I know I have hurt you so much these last couple of months. I didn't mean it to appear that way but I have been making plans for me, actually for us. I canceled all those nights, including your birthday dinner and I am so sorry. I'm just hoping that you will understand and forgive me once you realize what I've been doing. I have spent these last weeks working overtime on a new line to raise extra money. I've also been training a new man to handle most of my workload so I can spend time with you every day instead of being stuck at the office. I've even made special reservations for us to take a holiday. Kind of a belated birthday gift. It's that trip to England you've talked about as long as I've known you. I'm hoping it might even be something more, like maybe our honeymoon? My sister is supposed to fly in this week. She wants to meet at that little coffee shop close to my office before she meets you. I've talked about you so much to her. She's really excited but nervous, thinking you won't like her but I'm sure you will. 

Catherine, you know I'm not all that good with words but what I'm trying to say is that I love you. I am asking you to marry me. I wrote this so I could see your reaction reading it at dinner in hopes to make it less awkward for either of us. If you don't want me, I understand, especially with all that I've put you through lately. Just put the letter away and I won't mention it again. If you smile, I’ll take it that you do want me and I swear I will drop to my knees, right here and ask you to marry me for everyone to hear." 

I dropped the unsigned letter in my lap, with tears streaming down my cheeks. That must have been the blond woman I saw him with… his sister. Picking up my things I quietly headed to the door. Glancing into the kitchen on my way out I saw something that made me freeze, lost in a time that would never come. 

On the counter was a bottle of Dom-Perignon, he knew it was my favorite. Wiping the new tears off my cheek, I shook off the flood of emotions that would haunt me for an eternity. I flipped the light switch off and left, closing the door behind me, separating me from what could have been.

Bon Appetite copyright 1999 by Merlina Rene'
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