Seventh Avenue just above Houston. Coffee shop.
I love watching people. I love it even more when they watch back. I’m Nathan, a Mosfernauyu. I’m mostly undead. My fangs are in my eyes.
They bite deeper when you sink them yourself.
I’m at a corner table, right against the front window. Full sun. The last thing people expect. A vampire with a tan and a fuzzy reflection in the heavy plate glass. Drinking a chai mocha latte. Reading a book. Eating an everything bagel dripping with garlic butter.
A skinny blonde aims her blue eyes down her nose, spraying apathy across the seating area. Her gaze touches mine and skitters off, like a drunken butterfly.
Not what I’m craving today.
As she turns away, she stumbles over a small boy playing with a tiny plastic fighter jet. She clutches her coffee to her chest, squeezing the wax paper cup. A tiny drop of java makes a leap of faith to blossom as a stain on her blouse. She shrieks just loud enough to carry throughout the room.
A short black woman struggles through the morning crowd with a coffee, a diaper bag, and an apology on her lips. The young guys hanging outside around the crosswalk had called her “thick” as she hurried in.
“Isaac! Please pay attention!” Her eyes flick from the Karen’s face to her son, to random faces in the crowd as if looking for allies. Her brown irises lock with mine and stick. She sees me, seeing her.
Yeah, that’s the stuff.
I smile in just that right way that says, “I’m not laughing at you. I want to help.”
The fangs bite… just the tips.
The seat across from me is the only free one in the shop.
Do I have to tell you that was intentional?
She barely hesitates before lifting Isaac and sitting him in the tall chair. Bag and coffee, reeking of cinnamon, land on the table, almost tumbling my cup.
“So sorry. Can you please watch these while I take care of this?” She doesn’t really wait for an answer. Her eyes still haven’t left mine and she sees my reply clearly.
“Thank you!” She sighs and takes a paper napkin from the wire rack and returns to help the other woman.
I watch her walk away. Yeah, like that. Isaac watches me watch his mom. I like that, too.
“Where’s your dad, Isaac?” My voice sounds like I’m asking if he likes gummy bears. He shrugs.
Perfect.
“Oh, God. You’re just making it worse!” Karen huffs, pushes the napkin away, and storms out the swinging glass door. A tiny speaker rings tinny bell sounds.
Perfect.
I stand and offer my seat and a handshake. “That was hard to watch. I’m Nathan. Does Isaac’s mom have a name?”
Sitting on the narrow ledge of the window frame puts our eyes nearly level.
Perfect.
The fangs sink a tiny bit more.
“Shayna.” A grateful smile curves her lips. “‘Isaac’s mom’ works, too.” She grimaces at the group of young guys outside. “Anything besides ‘hey, shorty.’”
“Shayna, I like that. There used to be a woman at church named Shayna. She was beautiful, too.” That gets me a little blush.
Perfect.
“Momma, can we go home now?” Isaac’s question forces me to look away. My eyes would give me away.
Maybe this would be a good time to set some things straight. Everything you’ve heard about vampires…
B.S.
Garlic? I love it!
Sunlight? Divine!
Crosses? Don’t make me laugh.
But the reflections? Umm, okay, here’s the thing about that. We have reflections. Too many reflections. It’s the eyes.
My eyes reflect what I’m thinking. Sometimes I can control it. Sometimes… like now… emotions like irritation or anger?
Not so perfect.
The fangs work best when they can’t be seen.
Damage control.
“Isaac! Little man! You can’t leave now. I was just about to show you guys a magic trick.” There’s a wrapped lollipop in my blazer pocket. I don’t want the kid, but — you know — damage control. “Whoop! What’s that behind your ear?”
I look at Shayna, lift one eyebrow. I know she sees herself reflected in my eyes. She sees herself smiling and nodding.
The fangs sink deeper.
Perfect again.
Shayna clears her throat. “You know, most guys run the other way when they see a girl with a kid. What’s your angle?”
There’s an edge to her voice. The sweetness tastes slightly bitter.
It’s fine. I’ve been here before.
“Really? If I’m being honest, single moms are kinda my kryptonite.” I’m not even lying. She’s looking me straight in the eyes. She sees the reflections. She wants to believe them.
She sees herself in a cozy uptown apartment. The lights are low. A smoky voice croons softly.
She sees herself taking off her sweater, unfastening her bra…
Gods! The desire… the longing!
Delicious!
She’s pulling the fangs deeper now. On her own. Willingly.
I can see her trying to look away, tiny shifts of her eyeballs, hands twisting a flying strand of hair. Nothing else exists, just us, the reflections… and the fangs.
I drink my fill, sigh deeply, and close my eyes. It tastes bittersweet. I’ll leave her drained, but I won’t finish her. The kid doesn’t deserve that. Besides, I may want more later.
The alarm on my cell phone rings.
“Damn! I’m late for work.” I scramble to grab my rapidly cooling coffee and book. I taste a bit of something salty. I see the reflections on the backside of my corneas.
Yes, I have a job, too.
“What? You’re leaving?” Confusion, bordering on desperation. “Can I call you?”
Oh, that’s sour! Do not let her see your eyes!
I flip open the cover of my book and hand her a pen.
“Write your number down. I’ll definitely call you tomorrow.” I look at Isaac. He sees my eyes. His little mouth tightens.
Fangs fully retract.
Shayna sees the hint of something pass between me and her son. She hesitates, then shrugs. Sighs. Jots down her number.
I told you I wouldn’t finish her.
I give her a hug and a peck on the cheek as I rush out the door.
I mean, I’m not a monster.