Three times in the next two days she felt that weird sensation on the back of her neck, as if someone was watching her. Three times she couldn’t find anything out of place, any reason for her to feel that way. Maybe the stress was getting to her, making her hallucinate feelings. Was that even a thing? Could she hallucinate sensations?

Probably not. She placed her hand over the pocket in her suit jacket, the shape of the over-sized rock pressing through the fabric. While it made her feel better that it was still there, it also made her feel quite bad that it was still there. Guilty. It was an emotion she was quite intimate with, especially as of late.

She should just give it back, explain to him that she was not marriage material. That it wasn’t him, it was her. That he should save the ring for someone he actually wanted to marry. Because that conversation was totally going to go well.

The problem was, as she saw it, twofold. One, he really did, somehow in his misguided opinion of her, want to marry her. She had no idea why, but he did. When did he get so serious? The other problem was with her being weak, not wanting to hurt his feelings. She knew, she knew, the puppy look he would give her. She felt horrible just thinking about it, and she hadn’t even seen it yet, but if she told him she couldn’t marry him, she absolutely would. Her stomach flipped at the thought.

How was he so good at making her feel so bad? It made her mad. What gave him the right to be so pushy? He should care about her feelings, too. But…it wasn’t like she was very open with her feelings. It was just easier to go with the flow. Chip was so much work otherwise.

She blew hair out of her face, staring at her computer screen, then reached up to tuck it behind her ear. She was supposed to be reviewing copy, and was half way through it, but she couldn’t remember anything of what she read. Now she was going to have to start over, for a third time. There was not much hope that something this time would be different enough for her to actually focus on her work.

Two paragraphs in confirmed it, she needed a break. Standing up, she ran her hands through her short, chin length black hair, scratching gently at her scalp. It was hopeless for her to continue, so she snuck away from her desk, eyes on the boss’s office door. It was shut, thankfully, and he was either out of the office or tied up in something. Either way, he wouldn’t notice her sneak out for a quick coffee and a change of scenery.

The air outside was so hot and stifling compared to the central air of her building that it felt like crawling into a dryer full of wet clothes. Even the muggy heat, though, was not enough to deter her from her mission of an iced coffee and momentary distraction.

Walking down the block, she was dwarfed next to the towering skyscrapers. She always held her breath as she moved between them, a quirk she developed since she started working in the publishing house which paid her well enough for her services as an editor. She only released the breath she held as she turned the corner, entering the small city park of lovely green space between the towering monoliths of commerce.

This was her little haven, a tiny breath of fresh air in a sea of recycled air, concrete and steel. One city block filled with decorative metal benches and fluidly curving pathways through patches of trained roses, trellises of trumpet vines and clematis, beds of wild flowers of all colors, and lined by groomed ornamental shrubs and shady city trees. Seneca tried to soak in the comfort of her oasis as quickly as possible.  

Tingling on her neck made her stop in her tracks, distracting her from enjoying the comforts of her sanctuary. She looked around, trying to figure out what was making her feel this way. The tingling grew stronger, similar to the pins and needles sensation from the restaurant the other night.

She shook her head. She didn’t want to think of the restaurant right now. She was trying to get that out of her mind so she could focus. Instead, she closed her eyes and visualized the sensations she was feeling. As she opened herself up to the tingling, it seemed to creep down her spine like gentle electricity, humming and vibrating pleasantly. The world narrowed down to just the strange tingling, somehow working to calm and center her.

A police siren screeched by a block or two from her, startling her from her short lived reprieve. She opened her eyes and the sunlight seemed so harsh, even with her sunglasses. She quickly moved to a shady spot, already feeling the dangerous heat of the sun on her skin.

Seneca began walking again only to feel the tingling climb down her spine again. It stopped her in her tracks. She looked around, but nothing seemed out of place. People moved past her on the sidewalk, fluidly moving around her as if she were a rock in as stream. But that feeling, it was so strong here. It was impossible to ignore.

She shook her head again to clear it, spotting a comfortable seat on a metal bench under a tree. She sat down, tucking her navy suit skirt under her so that her legs wouldn’t directly touch the metal bench.

This feeling was driving her crazy. She had to figure it out, whatever was making her feel this way. Because if it was in her head…well, she didn’t know what she would do if she was losing it.

Something shifted next to her and she jumped up swiftly. “Oh, I’m sorry,” she apologized quickly, brushing her skirt down. “I didn’t realize someone was already sitting here!”

Where had he come from? She could have sworn this bench was empty a moment ago, but now there was a man here, his skin sun-kissed with a deep, healthy looking tan. He wore his short blueish-black hair combed to the side. His clothing was completely out of place in the sweltering heat of deep September in the city. A sharp black suit pinstriped in thin, crimson lines fit neatly over the frame of his body, accentuating his lean build. He had a red scarf tucked into his jacket pocket and held a deep black fedora on his lap. The heat didn’t seem to bother him, in fact he didn’t seem to notice it at all.

His eyes, though, they drew her in more than anything else about him. They were strange, beautiful, otherworldly, so light in color that they appeared silver. The captivated her, captured her. They held her, appraising her and measured her worth. She wondered if he could see into her with those quicksilver eyes.  

“Are you addressing me?” he asked her, obviously startled by her outburst. He seemed surprised that she was surprised.

“I didn’t realize you were sitting here already,” she explained again, shifting away from stray sunbeams that were infiltrating the late summer foliage above her. “I didn’t see you. I’m sorry. I can find another bench.” She nodded her head and turned to leave, but that feeling…that tingling on her neck. That feeling, it paralyzed her.

It was coming from him. From those quicksilver eyes. She knew it, was sure of it, in that moment.

“Where are my manners?” he drawled, his voice smooth and thick as honey. “There is more than enough room for two on this metal lawn seat. Please, pay me no mind.” He nodded towards the vacant space she had just recently been filling.

“I wouldn’t want to impose, I can find another place…” she hedged politely.

“Oh, no, miss, I insist. It is so very hot today. Please, sit,” he said magnanimously, running his hand over the bench. His voice has this lilt to it, sort of musical and sort of ethnic, but she couldn’t place the accent. It was calming and comforting and she found herself settling back down beside him, even as unsettled as she was that she hadn’t noticed him before. She shifted uncomfortably, sweat forming in the small of her back, wishing she had already retrieved her iced coffee so that she would have something to do with her hands.

“It’s pretty hot today,” she noted cautiously, on edge.

“It is,” he agreed. “But, this is not so bad, compared to where I came from.” He shifted on the bench, crossing his legs and turning so that his knees were pointing in her direction.

“Where’re you from?” she asked him.

He watched her with those quicksilver eyes and the tingling electricity climbed her spine like Christmas lights, blinking wildly. “Nowhere special,” he finally said.

“Nowhere special?” she repeated. “What’s that supposed to mean?” She cringed at her tone, snappy and rude. The sensations on her neck were driving her to distraction. She wasn’t acting normal, not since the other night with Chip…

He watched her appraisingly, one eyebrow lifted as if he was amused. He didn’t say anything, making her even more uncomfortable. She shifted, her legs sticking together inside her skirt from the humidity.

“I’m sorry, that was rude of me. I shouldn’t have asked. You just, I can’t seem to place where you’re from. Your accent and…you have the most beautiful eyes…” she trailed off. Oh god, she did not just call a complete stranger’s eyes beautiful, did she? She had to turn away from him, she was so embarrassed. She stood up, preparing to flee. “I’m sorry, I’m not myself today…”

He reached out to grab her arm before she bolted. His fingers brushed her forearm, just a gentle touch, barely a caress, but it sent pure electricity through her system. Her muscles seemed to melt they relaxed so fast, and she slumped back down onto the bench, instantly a tiny bit calmer.

“Please, if you might delay a moment more, I wish to share your unique company just a little longer,” he requested overly formal, nodding towards her. “I have not found many who pay me heed here.”

The look she gave him was speculative. “Really?” she asked, her voice heavy with disbelief. “You are definitely hard to ignore.”

He snorted out laughter and for some reason it annoyed her. He caught her annoyed look and it only made him chuckle more.

“What?” she asked. “Why is that funny?” She kicked herself, her rude tone reappearing with this amazingly beautiful man. It was humiliating how quickly her emotions were vacillating.

The wind shifted, pushing his scent towards her. He smelled good. Too good. He smelled like vanilla, really good, creamy vanilla, not the fake flavoring that so many sweets were manufactured with. Real vanilla. She felt a sudden urge to taste him, wondering if his skin tasted like he smelled. If his blood tasted as sweet.

What was wrong with her?! Now she was fantasizing about tasting a complete stranger, one she had been increasingly rude to, despite his actions as a complete gentleman. There was very obviously something wrong with her. But that smell…it did something to her head. She shook it to clear it out, wishing the wind would change directions. She could almost taste him on her tongue, sweet and bitter at the same time.

She her face burned crimson with her shame.

The man didn’t seem to notice. Instead, he smiled warmly at her, seemingly encouraging her line of thinking. Don’t encourage me, she thought at him fiercely. If it were possible, his smile widened, those silver eyes looking at her so intimately that she thought she could feel them inside her head.  

God, he was handsome, with an amazing smile and those stunning silver eyes. Those eyes. She ached to lean in and examine them up close, but she didn’t. Because that would be rude. Except, she did. She totally did. Somehow she found herself leaning in close. He didn’t seem surprised, just watched her closely with those mercurial eyes. She jerked back, realization hitting her. What was she doing?

“It is funny, you resplendent creature, because most are inclined not to notice my kind. It is my very nature that distracts folk. Yet, you are drawn to me. Regardless, as much as I enjoy a good mystery, I am afraid must be going,” he explained, his voice almost hypnotic. He turned from her, pushing himself up as he placed the hat on his head. He leaned on the cane, swaying before he steadied himself.

“You don’t have to leave because of me…” she trailed off. His hand distracted her, the one that gripped the cane. Three long, narrow scars cut perpendicular to his fingers across the top of his hand. He caught her staring at it and pulled his sleeve down, though it did not completely cover the scars. “What happened to your hand?” The words were out of her mouth as they popped in her head. She needed to fix her filter, for she didn’t seem to be capable of censuring herself around this stunning stranger.

He frowned, the look marring his handsome features, but not ruining them. She realized he was truly handsome. It made her reevaluate how she had seen other men in her life before him. Chip, he was cute, but he was not handsome. She had never seen handsome before now. This man with his sterling gaze, he was handsome. Manly, yet fragile. Beautiful. She reached out to touch him and he danced back agilely despite leaning on his cane.

“Good day, my lady,” he said, nodding curtly. Despite his shortness with her, something in his tone made her feel so remorseful that she instantly didn’t want him to leave.

“Wait,” she cried out, “please don’t go! I’m sorry I was so rude. I…I’m not normally like this!”

He turned back to her, chuckling. “What are you normally like, then, Seneca?”

She pulled back, shocked to hear her name from his lips. The way he said it made her heart skip a beat. She wanted to hear him say it again. She wanted to hear him scream it as she… Oh god, she thought at herself, what is wrong with me? This is not like me! He’s gonna think I’m a creep!

He watched her carefully from hooded eyes. She thought she might sink into those pale eyes, deep as wells. A smile played on the edge of his face. She realized with a start that he was waiting for her to respond.

“I, ah, well, not like this!” she said defensively. “Things have been…I’ve…you don’t have to leave because of me. I’ll leave, you can stay. I’m sorry, you can stay.”

He glanced over to the now empty place where he had recently been lounging “I was not departing because of any action of yours. It is time for me to be on, and I was under the impression you had a final destination likewise. So, I believe that now would be an amenable opportunity for us both to be on our way.”

“I…yes, of course. It was very nice to meet you. I’m sorry, I really am not like this normally,” she apologized again, her heart clutching in her chest at his impending departure.

He tipped his hat to her again. “Perhaps we were fated to meet, Seneca. Would you care to join me again sometime?”

She narrowed her eyes at him, instantly on edge. “Are you asking me on a date?” she demanded too harshly. She cringed at her own ill manners. Why was she like this with him? Why wasn’t she able to filter her inner thoughts before they poured from her mouth?

He didn’t seem to mind her coarseness, though, or if he did, he made no sign of showing it. “Hmm, I suppose I am, but not exactly. Perhaps just a meal together to get to know one another? I find you…intriguing.”

“Intriguing? Me?” she squeaked. “Nothing interesting about me!” Could he have guessed she was different? She hadn’t said anything to give away her vampiric nature, had she? She combed through the last few minutes, trying to figure out when she had slipped up.

“Of course you are. You noticed me when others could not. So…perhaps a meal together?” he suggested smoothly. “Possibly tonight, after the sun has set? It seems that you are a bit sensitive to the elements…”

Her hands went up to her face, which she knew was still red with embarrassment. Now she was worried it was red with sunburn, too. All vampires were sensitive to the sun, but she seemed to be extra delicate when it came to exposure. “Did I burn?” she fretted, her skin feeling warm under her hands.

“Just a bit pink, my lady. Nothing too egregious. I myself am a bit sensitive to the sun’s radiance. May I count you in for dinner?” he asked again, darker complexion accenting his smile, twisting her heart around his fingers.

“Sure,” she agreed without thinking. She kicked herself mentally again, but she couldn’t seem to put her guard up. “Wait! I don’t even know your name! This is crazy!”

“My lady, I am Godwin SynLilin, at your service,” he said with a little bow, hat in hand again. He replaced it on his head as he stood back up, only a few inches taller than she was with her heels on.

“Oh. Okay,” she mumbled. “I’m Seneca Mahon.”

Godwin smiled as if he already knew this. Wait, he did already know it! He had called her by name at least a few times during this strange conversation. “It is a pleasure.”

“Hold up, wait a minute!” she barked rudely again, unable to contain it. “You already knew my name! How did you know my name? Do I know you from somewhere? Are you stalking me?” She narrowed her eyes at him, trying to be angry with him and failing.

“I have a…perhaps if we meet again, I could explain. This is our first time meeting one another,” he hedged, his knowing smile annoying her to no end. It made her want to slap it off his face, or maybe just kiss it off of him. Did his lips taste like he smelled?

No, she wouldn’t be distracted by her weird attraction to him. She was going to focus on the fact that he was a stalker. “I don’t believe you. How did you know my name?”

She stared at him, demanding an answer with her eyes. He said nothing, just looked back at her with those mercury filled eyes.

A demand for him to answer her died on her lips as her phone rang from her suit pocket, clattering loudly as it vibrated against the ring. Chip’s ring. Shit, here she was, half flirting with her new stalker, when she was engaged, even if she didn’t want to be. She grimaced, reaching into her pocket to retrieve her phone.

Chip’s boyish face smiled annoyingly from the display. She sighed heavily and considered sending it to voicemail.

“Is that your paramour, checking in on you?” Godwin asked her, that half smile playing on the edge of his mouth. She wanted to lick it. Damnit, she had to focus, so she scowled at him instead. “You should answer his call, Seneca.” She closed her eyes and breathed deeply, angry at herself but loving the way he said her name, each syllable fluid and slightly erotic.

She found herself following his direction as she slid the little green circle to the right. “Hello, Chip,”she said with forced cheerfulness.

“Hey Senny Baby!” he said in his best emulation of a California surfer. Gripping the phone way too tightly, she scrunched her eyes closed tighter, as if not seeing would make the situation any better. “How’s it hanging?”

“Ah, I’m at work right now,” she said, turning her back to Godwin, embarrassed to have him see her like this. “I can’t really talk.”

“Ah, no worries, baby. I just wanted to see if we could grab some dinner tonight? Maybe a pizza and a movie at my place? I know you said you were busy for a few days, but…Chip misses his Senny Baby.” He said the last part in baby talk and she cringed. She hated being called Senny. She told him that once, but he apparently didn’t think it applied to him. She especially hated it when he combined ‘Senny’ with ‘baby’. It sent shivers of repulsion through her every time.

She should have left him long ago, the first time he called her Senny baby. He just tasted good, and those abs… She caved to this body and let him take the lead. Regret wouldn’t solve anything now, but she still felt it, hating herself for being weak.

Godwin’s delicious vanilla scent surrounded her, calming her and teasing her simultaneously. She hadn’t heard or felt him get so close, but now he stood directly behind her, so close that if she leaned back, their bodies would touch. His proximity sent a pulse of arousal through her and she suppressed it immediately.

“Tell him,” he breathed into her other ear, “that you already have plans this evening.”

She swayed, his breath tickling her, making her long for that small gap to close between them even while she hated herself for allowing a man she had just met to have this kind of power over her. She felt guilty, too, talking to her forced fiance, while allowing herself to be manipulated by a complete stranger.

No, not a complete stranger. Godwin SynLilin. She knew his name, she tried to rationalize internally. “I’m,” she said uncomfortably, licking her lips, “I have plans already. I’m sorry.”

She could imagine his kicked puppy look and her guilt amped up. She almost told him she would cancel them, the plans with Godwin, but something stopped her. She didn’t want to cancel with Godwin, she discovered.

“Good job,” Godwin praised her softly, his breath a gentle caress along her earlobe. It sent a thrill through her despite her efforts to not let him push her buttons. She secretly loved him pushing her buttons, but she would never admit it.

“Oh,” Chip replied, his disappointment palpable. “Well, what about tomorrow? I miss you, baby.”

She cringed again. At least he hadn’t called her Senny Baby again. “Yes, you will meet him tomorrow,” Godwin told her in dulcet tones.

She shook her head no, afraid to say it out loud and garner Chip’s suspicions. She didn’t want to see Chip ever again. Going back to him was so stifling and overwhelming that she just couldn’t do it. She couldn’t.

Godwin placed one hand gently on her hand, the one holding the phone, his delicate touch sending her heart to her throat. He stroked two fingers from her hand down to her elbow, his caress making her shiver despite the heat. He leaned in, still somehow not pressing against her back, though she could feel his body heat. Vanilla filled her lungs dizzyingly, making her strongly crave a taste. “Tell him, Seneca. You will meet him tomorrow,” he encouraged her.

Something in his tone, she wasn’t sure why she did it, but she couldn’t deny him. Not when he said her name like that. She repeated the words despite not wanting to meet him again, ever. Godwin rewarded her with another whisper of praise, filling her stomach with butterflies.

“Sweet!” Chip exclaimed jubilantly, already over her ditching him tonight. The thought of meeting up with Godwin when she was supposed to be engaged to Chip had her stomach doing guilty flips around all of the butterflies. “Well, I’ll let you get back to work, Senny. Talk to you tomorrow! Love you, babe.”

“You too,” she mumbled noncommittally, hanging up her phone. She watched the screen fade to black, her feelings swirling dangerously. It was a good thing she had fed recently, else she might risk inciting her bloodlust with her tumultuous emotions.

“You do not seem too enamored with your current beau…” Godwin breathed into her ear. She closed her eyes, swaying again, partially from the heat, partially from his scent messing with her brain, and partially from his proximity.

“I hate him,” she admitted, surprising herself. She had never actually said it out loud before, not even to herself. “He’s so nice and perfect and I…nevermind. I don’t know why I can’t stop my mouth around you.”

Godwin trailed a finger down her face, from her earlobe to her chin. Her knees nearly gave out it felt so good, so intimate. She leaned into it, moaning a little without meaning to. “I will meet you here again, tonight. After dark, perhaps 8 pm?”

She needed to take control back. She was not weak. “What if I don’t show up? I never agreed to dinner with you.”

His finger hooked under her chin, turning her head towards him. “Of course you did. If you do not show up, we will meet another time. But…I anticipate you will come. I find I…hunger for your attentions tonight. I think you feel similarly.”

His touch was static, short circuiting her brain. She could feel power, flowing from him to her through the connection of their skin, and she thought she should be worried about it, but she wasn’t. Their faces were so close. She longed to lick that half smile, to taste his bittersweet vanilla flavor for herself. His eyes looked into her own and she felt trapped, locked into those complicated silver irises. There was something not quite right about them, something just slightly off, but she couldn’t put her finger on it. She stared into them, trying to understand, falling deeper and deeper. Time stretched out like taffy as she sank into his eyes.

“Tonight?” he asked, running his finger over her jaw again.

She tore away from him, battling her base urges to taste him, to let him continue to flirt with her. She was not…this was not who she was. It wasn’t. She wasn’t some…slut.

“I’ll think about it,” she growled, pushing all of her emotions so far inside that it hurt. She locked them away, especially the desire she felt around this stranger, pushing them into the darkness within.

She stepped forward, escaping him. She had to go, had to get back to work. She didn’t even care if she got her iced coffee anymore. Godwin messed her up, and she had only spent five minutes with him.

“Of course,” he agreed easily. Frowning, she turned back to him, ready to lash out at him, but he was gone, as if he hadn’t even been there to begin with. A small stream of fear curled into her belly and she pushed that down, too.

Vampires were not afraid of Norms, even if they did have some crazy ability to throw her off balance. She was not afraid of the beautiful Godwin from nowhere special in his tailored gangster apparel. And she most definitely did not desire him, she told herself. A small part of her was not convinced, despite the soundness of her internal arguments.

The Game Chapter 1: Proposal

The Game Chapter 3: Mutually Beneficial Arrangement