Rory

She didn’t know how, but Rory was sure the man at table five would change her life. He’d sauntered into the restaurant and sat in a corner booth facing her. His smoldering blue eyes met hers and he nodded. From his pressed blue jeans with rolled cuffs, white undershirt, and black leather jacket to his combed to perfection blonde hair—with just the right amount of purposeful disarray. Everything about him screamed movie star from the 1950s and she couldn’t take her eyes away.

“What can I get for you tonight?” The words tumbled out of her mouth, quavering and her tone too high. She blushed furiously. I’ve done this nearly every night for the past ten years. What is wrong with me?

“Well.” He glanced at her nametag. “Rory, I’d been looking for a quick bite, but the help looks more delicious. What time do you get off tonight?” He brushed his thumb against his bottom lip as he waited for her response.

Was that wording intentional? Oh, probably. Her breath caught in her throat, and she stammered. “I… Uh…”

A coy smile formed on his lips.

“Thirty minutes or so. Whenever the next server gets in.”

“Then I have thirty minutes or so to enjoy the view,” he said and winked.

“Okay, can I get you something while you wait then?” Her eyes darted to her reflection in the plate-glass window and immediately regretted it. Had she ever looked so gawky and bashful in her life? Or at least since she’d been a teenager? Her crystal blue eyes were large, her cheeks were ruddy, and how she wished she was wearing anything besides her ugly pink uniform. The company hadn’t designed it for a well-endowed woman, and it showed. She smoothed back a strand of loose golden-brown hair and fought to regain her composure.

“Coffee.”

“Sounds good. I’ve got a fresh pot ready,” she said and hurried away, hoping to break his spell. But even from the safety of the wait station, she couldn’t stop taking quick peeks at him. All the while, his gaze remained focused on her. Nervous from his unwavering scrutiny, she set his coffee in front of him, silently praying this wouldn’t be the time she spilled.

He caught her hand as it pulled away and grazed her palm with icy fingers.

She jumped at the chill. “If you’re cold, I can lower the air.”

He said nothing, tracing his fingertips along the lines in her palm. Each touch sent electric currents up her arm.

“You read palms? See anything interesting?”

“No. It’s just an excuse to grab a pretty girl’s hand.” He tightened his grip, forcing her to pull away slowly.

“Well, you have your coffee.” She turned and walked away from the table. In a very short amount of time, he’d gone from handsome stranger to handsome creep.

The bell on the door rang, and her replacement walked in early. Rory followed the other waitress to the back, and the two exchanged pleasantries. By the time she left for the night, the man had disappeared.

Outside, a grizzled tomcat wove between her legs and meowed.

“Charming. My favorite part of the day,” she said and scratched behind his remaining ear. He stretched and purred like an old diesel engine, spinning in circles as she stroked his fur. “You need a bath, old man.”

The cat blinked slowly at her, kneading his claws methodically beside her.

“What a handsome boy you are.”

Charming’s ear twitched and flattened. He let out a scratchy growl at the long shadows that ran up the alley and hissed before running away.

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“Is someone there?” Rory called out, her heart hammering in her chest. She tried to open the back door to the restaurant, but it had locked behind her. “Hello?” Her voice echoed against the brick walls.

A figure in the shadows moved.

“If you want money, I only have a few bucks from tips. You’re welcome to it.” She dug into her purse, pulled out a tiny wad of cash and tossed it to the ground.

If she remembered correctly, it was about fifty yards to the relative safety of the street. She needed to get there. The shadows, or whatever was hiding in them, felt wrong. It might be my only chance. She took a deep breath and sprinted.

A hand gripped her shoulder and spun her around, nearly knocking her over.

The man from table five.

He grinned at her, his eyes now a horrid shade of blood red. His pale skin even more pallid. He pulled her against him and opened his mouth, revealing fangs dripping with hunger.

Terror seized her throat, cutting off her screams before they could begin. She kicked blindly at him, flailed her fists—whatever she could manage. But his body was solid and unphased by her attacks. A moan left his lips as he bent towards her neck, the tips of his fangs pricked her skin.

A sudden blind rage tore through Rory, awakening a side of her that had lain dormant for all twenty-six years she’d been alive. Her eyes cleared, and she gathered what strength remained in her. “Don’t you fucking touch me,” she commanded. A force she might have called magic—if such a thing existed—escaped her and wove into the words.

The creature’s eyes widened as its grip loosened. She landed and rolled onto the cement, protecting her head from the impact. He moved away from her in odd, disjointed steps before finally stopping at the street. Red eyes faded to blue and the man from table five paced.

He hissed. “What did you do to me?”

She turned and ran, unclear of the path ahead.

His footsteps echoed on the pavement behind her. No matter how fast she went, he stayed the same distance. He’s playing with me. But it was too late for a change in plans. He was close.

The alley split, no streets, only darkness both ways. Without thinking, she took a left and sprinted. Her side burned. Her lungs begged for oxygen. She pushed forward. Her path split again; she took another left—even more alley stretched before her.

Gradually, the sounds of his pursuit faded away, and she slowed her pace to catch her breath.

Another left? “This isn’t how alleys work,” she said. Where is the street? Any street? She stopped to listen for traffic, hoping to gain her bearings, but heard nothing. Not a cricket or car. Only the sound of her own breathing and heartbeat.

“Hello? Is anyone there?” she asked.

“Come quick. He’s still out there,” an unseen woman replied.

“Where are you?”

A door opened just enough for the woman’s hand to wave her over.

“Please tell me this isn’t another trick?” Rory heard more whine in her voice than she’d intended.

Footsteps echoed towards her.

“Quickly.” The door flew open to reveal a woman of roughly Rory’s age, wearing a simple rough-spun peasant’s dress with a maroon shawl, beckoning her.

Given the choice of running with a vampire on her heels or taking sanctuary with the strange woman, Rory chose the latter. She ran for the door and it slammed behind her.

Radiant light filled the room, forcing her to shut her eyes against the glare. “Where am I?” she asked, blinking rapidly until her vision adjusted. Before her lay a bare room with two doors—one next to the other—and four round windows. Night had become day and sunlight spilled through. She peered through the glass and saw rolling hills with lush green grass. “Where the hell am I?”

“Where or when? It doesn’t matter.”

“I mean, yeah, it matters. How did I wind up here?”

“There’s something I’d like to offer you, Aurora.”

“How do you know my name?”

“For now, we’ll just say it was a lucky guess.” The woman’s serene face grew somber. “How would you like a fresh start?”

Rory frowned and asked, “What do you mean?”

The woman flicked a wrist and one door opened to reveal Rory’s tiny studio apartment bathed in moonlight. It looked even less appealing than it did when she’d left for work that night. “Go through there, this was all a dream.” She pointed at the door that remained closed. “Go through here for a new start and help me. There’s much to be done.”

“That still doesn’t really answer me, though, does it? What do you mean?”

“Why don’t you find out for yourself?” She smiled.

“Is it safe?” Rory asked.

The woman tittered and shrugged.

Rory’s hand extended to the closed door and the unknown behind it.

“I was hoping you’d choose that.”

Rory nodded and opened the door. She felt a kick on her backside and before she could react, began falling. Despite her circumstance, nothing in her body told her death was imminent. All systems normal, just an everyday plummet to the earth. Stars rocketed by her, the planet twisted on its side and spun faster as she fell. Before long, the stars became bright bursts of color and light, and she could feel herself fading away.

A murky pond came into view, closer and closer until she landed in the water with a great splash. Her vision darkened and the spots behind her eyes grew larger. Her head broke the water’s surface, and she paddled her way to shore with just enough time to spare before blacking out entirely.