Second Chances: The Angel and the Vampire-{Prologue}

Chapter 1

(Three months later)

He walked up to the coffin full of mementos and pictures. His face was emotionless, set in stone. His dark eyes held an odd, misplaced glint of steely silver when they caught the sunlight that streamed in through the stained glass window. Turning around, he saw two men, leaning on the front pew, their faces overwhelmed with pure grief and misery. He frowned at the empty pews, and began to walk away from the memorial service to give thanks to the priest for allowing such a small ceremony to occur.

"I wish we could have buried her body, they shouldn't have destroyed her like that."

The man swiveled to face the other two. After a painful pause, he whispered, "That's the way her kind is. You can't bury their bodies." Another long interval, then one of them spoke again.

"I promise we will find out who killed her. Mathias may have betrayed her to her kind, but he was not the one who did this to her."

The man with the silvery eyes looked down at his clenched fists, then turned and continued on down the abandoned aisle. There was nothing else he could say to them that would bring her back into his arms, so he kept silent.

***

I woke up in a cold sweat for the fourth night in a row. Sitting up, I rested my forehead in my palms, then glanced over at the clock: 3:28am. I swore under my breath, recalling the eerie dream that I had been having repeatedly. Nothing about it ever changed, and it wasn't a normal dream; it felt more like a memory, long forgotten.

My bedroom window was pushed open, and the crisp October air swirled around me, caressing my face. I shivered and quickly got up to close it. "I don't remember opening it at all," I thought to myself. Something caught my eye outside. I looked to the building rooftop across from my window, and paused. I could have sworn that I saw someone sitting up there only a moment ago, but all was still. Clara dear, you are losing your mind. Shaking my head, I turned to go to my living room to read. It was clear I wasn't getting any more sleep tonight.

***

"Yes, we will have a hot sake and a large California maki, please."

"Is that all?" I asked the couple sitting in the bar stools in front of me. They nodded and I smiled and took their menus. I worked in a sushi bar to pay rent. Unfortunately, it wasn't going to pay college tuition, and I couldn't exactly ask one of the many irresponsible foster parents I had lived with for help; they couldn't even help themselves.

I sighed as I trailed back to the waitress room to prepare their drink. Jane, one of the girls my age who worked with me walked over to me and excitedly whispered to me in my ear.

"That man is back again, and he keeps staring at you, as usual!"

"Typical male, just ignore him," I muttered as I turned to get two sake cups.

"Clara, you are eighteen and you live alone, you need a man in your life. Besides, you know that he is the most attractive man you have ever laid eyes on, I see the way you ogle him when he isn't looking. I would snap that up in a heartbeat," She persisted.

I turned around quickly, replying, "I don't need anything, I don't have time for a boyfriend, and the only reason I stare at him is because I feel like I've seen him before. If you are so interested, give him your number."

"Right," she said slowly, raising her eyebrows in disbelief. I rolled my eyes, and shoved a towel in her hands.

"Go clean something, Jane."

***

I had finally gotten out of work around midnight, waving to my manager and shutting the door behind me. As I walked to the subway station, my thoughts trailed back to the man from earlier.

He came in every other week, ordered a gin and tonic from the bar, and sat in the back corner of the restaurant. He was always reading a novel, surveying the room from time to time, and he always ended up watching me. Usually I stared back, and was mesmerized by his face. His jaw line was well defined and comparable to a Roman statue's, his skin was like granite, his dark midnight hair was long enough that it fell into his eyes and curled at his neck. When he swept his hair back with his long, delicate fingers, I would immediately become fascinated with his eyes. They were so very dark and smoldering, but somehow, every once and a while, a shimmer of silver would shine back at me, and that was always the point at which I felt it necessary to stop gazing at him, for fear that I would be completely hypnotized and forget about who I was or what I was doing.

I made an effort to shake the thoughts out of my head before stepping onto the metro towards my apartment. About ten minutes into the ride, my neck prickled. Someone was watching me again. I slowly turned around, and pretended to be casually looking around. My eyes landed on a man with golden curls and eyes to match. He sat apart from everyone else, his coat across his lap, and one arm resting on the back of his seat. Call me crazy, but I just knew from the second that our gazes met that he was there because of me. The man from the restaurant popped back into my head, and everything clicked. Someone was monitoring me, or worse. I had felt like people were watching me for months, and I was at a loss for what to do now that I had confirmation. "Just calm down, go home, and lock the door and windows, then decide what to do," I reassured myself. "And if that doesn't work, running and screaming like a lunatic is always the go-to option."

***

I scurried into my apartment, and I have to say, the fight-or-flight instinct had definetly kicked in. Panting and sweating while my heart attempted to leap out of my ribcage, I

took off my woolen coat, my long sleeved tee, and my jeans, and went to find something more comfortable to wear as I figured out what to do. "Why would anyone want to stalk me? What had I done to get me into this kind of mess?" I asked myself.

When I opened my bedroom door, I stopped short. The bedroom window was open again. Someone had been here while I was out, or worse...was still here. I almost wet my underwear and decided that the best thing to do would be to quickly grab the clothes I had just peeled off, and remove myself from the apartment. I started to back up, but I bumped into something hard. It was like someone had put a rock behind me to block my path. But I knew this was no rock. This was my stalker.