“Gods don’t bleed,” I said sharply, giving my arrogant date a challenging glare. With that, I reversed my grip on my fork and stabbed it into his hand. Or rather, onto his hand. The tines had stopped when they struck him, unable to pierce his skin.

He looked blankly at the fork, then back up at me, actually too baffled to even laugh. “If that was supposed to be a demonstration to punctuate your point, it’s failing spectacularly,” he remarked. He was just amused enough to not even take it as an attack, simply shaking his head with a bemused smile.

But a point had been made, just not the one he thought. I’d learned something from that experiment, but time would tell if it would be useful at all.

“Stainless steel,” he continued to muse, giving his utensils a critical look. “Fancy restaurants are just not what they used to be, eh? Otherwise you might’ve actually harmed me. I am curious to see how many ways you’ll try to kill me,” he added as he took another bite of his steak. “You’re an artist, so you should be pretty creative.”

“Do you want me to kill you?” I wondered aloud, eyes narrowing.

“Of course not. But I want to see you try.” He chuckled, holding eye contact with me. “And I like winning. I’m having so much fun, why would I ever want to throw this life away? The whole point of immortality is not dying, pet.” He took a sip of his wine, breathing deeply to savor the aroma. “Drink, dance, sex, and blood. The four cornerstones of happiness.”

“That’s not happiness, Christian. That’s hedonism.”

He scoffed. “Oh, please explain the difference.”

I floundered for a bit, struggling to put the nuance into words. “Hedonism is irresponsible and unsustainable,” I said slowly. “It’s self-destructive and is a hollow kind of pleasure. Whereas happiness–”

“Is working a job you hate with people you hate, finding somebody you can tolerate so you can pay bills and change diapers together, and growing old with and withering away into nothing, to be forgotten by the sands of time,” he cut in. He barked out a single laugh before taking another sip. “Yes, how happy indeed. Regardless of what you call it, I like my version better. Besides, what I do is sustainable because… it’s not self-destructive. I cannot be destroyed.”

“We’ll see about that,” I muttered fiercely, and his chuckle was filled with irony.

“Isn’t this the part where the mortal girl shows the big bad evil monster how o so mistaken he is and that life as a human is actually magical and worth living, and deceives him into living miserably ever after?”

I shook my head ruefully. “No. This isn’t one of those stories.” I shoved a spiteful bite of fish into my mouth, grinding my teeth as I chewed.

“Good. Can’t stand dumb romantics.”

“I’m just going to end you,” I promised, leveling a challenging glare at him, which he met in kind.

“Looking forward to it.”

We ate in silence until we finished our main courses. It was a shame I had to share this meal with him, because the food was actually excellent. The waitress took our plates and asked us if we wanted dessert. Christian gave me a sardonic smirk.

“Wanna share a banana split with me, pet?” he asked sweetly, like we were a picturesque teenage couple or something.

Before I could decline, the waitress interjected, “Um, sir, we don’t… serve banana splits here…”

“No exceptions for me, sweetheart?” he crooned, and I saw her eyes glaze over. Jesus, he really didn’t even need the compulsion. She was about to acquiesce when he continued, “Very well, a generous slice of gâteau aux marrons à la mode then. To share.”

He waved her off, leaving us alone again. With an amused expression, he studied me like I was a lab rat, as if waiting to see what I’d do. I wanted nothing more than to make this date as boring as possible to ruin his fun, but my curiosity was getting the better of me.

“Thought you’d order your steak rare,” I remarked.

“So that I can drink the blood of a farm animal? Please. Besides, it’s not even blood, it’s myoglobin.” He rolled his eyes a bit. “If there’s one thing you mortals got right, it’s cooking your steaks medium rare.”

I raised my eyebrow quizzically. “Do you even need to eat?”

“No, but there are plenty of things that are done out of enjoyment rather than necessity,” he pointed out. “Does music serve any purpose other than to please the senses? In this society, humans and vampires both have moved beyond necessity.”

“So you never have trouble finding someone to drink from?”

“It’s never been easier!” he laughed. “Hookup culture and dating apps have been a boon. To think, a sea of victims just a swipe away. I barely have to hunt anymore, the prey just serves itself up. Like so.” He gestured to me, making me clench my jaw. “Though I admit, at the same time, it’s become more of a challenge to pick out virgins.”

“Could always feed on children, piece of shit that you are,” I hissed.

He grimaced before tittering with an admonishing shake of his head. “I may be a bloodsucking undead fiend, but I have standards, pet. What do you take me for?”

“You really want me to answer that?”

We shared a chuckle, just as our dessert arrived. Argh, why was I enjoying this? This verbal sparring almost felt like banter. Good food, handsome guy, a bit of wit… Was I really this easy? He took a forkful of cake with a shard of chestnut and shaved off a bit of the ice cream, holding it up for me. I hesitated, staring at the delectable dessert while I wondered if it was worth indulging at the cost of playing into his fantasy, before sighing and accepting the bite. God damn it, it was delicious.

“You like?” he purred, assembling another bite for me and holding the fork aloft, at the ready while I chewed. I said nothing, giving him something between a glare and… a look of longing, to my chagrin. If all it took for me to give in was some good food, I was doomed. He fed me the next bite, an ever-so-smug look of satisfaction on his face. Not exactly gloating, but almost as if he genuinely enjoyed this intimacy. And I could see why. There was a certain sensuality we’d fallen into when he held his fork out to me and I accepted the cake tongue-first. The need I saw in his eyes was inscrutable, a mysterious wistfulness that I seemed to be returning in kind.

I took a sharp breath to snap myself out of the trance in case he was hypnotizing me again, nodding in approval of the cake. “Not bad,” I said, downplaying how much I’d indulged in it. He took a bite as well, watching me confidently. I finally took my fork to help myself, intent on not being sucked back into whatever spell he’d casted earlier.

“Where do vampires come from?” I asked conversationally, hoping to subvert the sexual tension.

“Who knows,” he mused, causing me to scrunch my face up in confusion.

“What? You mean you don’t know?” I asked incredulously.

He rolled his eyes, sighing in exasperation. “Oh, you’ll have to excuse me, I wasn’t paying attention in History class at vampire school,” he replied sarcastically.

“So none of your vamp friends know?” I pressed, hoping he’d reveal how many others there were.

“I hunt alone,” was all he provided.

Surely there had to be at least one other vampire, the one who’d turned him, right? “Then how’d you become a vampire?”

“You really do have a lot of questions,” he noted, interrupting my inquiry. “I believe it’s my turn.” He studied me while I continued working on the cake, pondering what to ask me first. “How is it that a sweet thing like you is still a virgin?”

“Some people still value the significance of their first time,” I hissed, feeling a bit exposed.

“In this day and age? In this part of the world? You’re a rare breed indeed,” he said skeptically. “What were you waiting for, menopause?”

“I was saving it for the right person,” I snapped. He really knew how to rile me up, and I was still sensitive that I’d lost having a more normal experience.

He put a hand to his chest mockingly. “What an honor,” he said with false reverence, making me clench my jaw.

“Bastard,” I whispered, and he chuckled. “Do you actually enjoy how much I hate you? Is that it?”

“I suppose so, yes. Everybody likes having their feelings reciprocated, after all.” And there it was. As he took another bite, contempt entered his gaze again, some untapped underlying hatred bubbling to the surface.

“I haven’t done anything to you–”

“Besides stabbing me in the heart.”

“–which you deserved, so I guess your hatred is directed toward humans in general. You’re just a big ball of anger. Like, who hurt you?”

“Everyone!” he snarled, making me jump. A few of the surrounding tables cast glances over at us, and Christian recovered, falling back into his gentlemanly facade. His voice returned to a polite tone, but his outburst was too much to recover from. He looked down at the dessert, no doubt tempering his emotions. This was the first side of him that he was trying to hide, because it was weakness. “Mortals are a selfish and cruel race.”

“I think you’re projecting,” I responded, with less ire than I normally would have. His outburst was making me wonder now. He’d avoided answering my question about how he was turned. There had to be a story there to make him so bitter.

“Am I wrong?” Sensing power shifting back to favor him, his vigor returned. With the practiced casualness that I’d grown accustomed to since meeting him, he took another bite of the cake. “You’re a beautiful woman, untouched until you met me. You treasured your purity, yet you were ready to simply hand it over to me on the first date. Somebody hurt you too.” He smirked victoriously when I squirmed a bit, knowing he’d figured me out. Yet his glee faded for a split second, some other emotion that passed by too quickly for me to decipher. “What was his name?”

I swallowed hard, jaw clenched, fists tight in my lap. “Nick,” I said softly. “I wouldn’t give it to him, so he left me.”

Christian grunted. “Can hardly blame him. He’s mortal. Doesn’t have the time to sit around waiting for you to be ready.” He shook his head as he lamented over the story. “If he were a real man, he would’ve taken what he wanted.”

“You’re disgusting,” I spat, given a stark reminder of why this scum had to go.

“Although I suppose I have him to thank for delivering you into my arms,” he reasoned, happily sipping his wine. He forked up the last bite of our gateau, offering it to me.

I shook my head, casting my eyes back down. “Not hungry anymore.”

From the edge of my vision, I saw him consume the last bite. Returning to my predicament, I was now certain I couldn’t just go along with being his pet. Even if he weren’t a vampire, he was a horrible person with horrible values. He was centuries old, which meant it was likely there was an endless string of victims in his wake, either raped or murdered… or both. It was becoming increasingly probable that I’d have to kill him. On that note, stabbing him with a stainless steel fork hadn’t so much as scratched him… but I’d drawn blood by biting him.

Assuming silver was really the only metal that could harm him, what did that leave me with? Wooden stakes, sunlight, and my own teeth. Why did my teeth work? I’d heard some explanations that the stake had to be made of wood because it was a living substance. Only life can defeat death, huh? It was a theory. It wasn’t much, but I’d take any extra weapon in my arsenal. I almost chuckled to myself. Was I really planning to bite a vampire?

Suddenly aware of the silence between us, I looked back up at him. He had just been sitting there, watching me with an enigmatic expression. His contempt had subsided, he wasn’t being arrogant or flirty, and it was simply unnerving that he was studying me like that. What was going on in that mind of his?

“What?” I uttered, shifting uncomfortably.

He didn’t seem to react for a while until his eyes shifted, unfocusing into the middle distance for a few seconds before sweeping back to me. With a sudden chortle, his devilish smirk reappeared. “Ready to go, pet?”

“Where are we going?” I asked warily. Instead of answering me, he rose and came to my side, holding a hand out to help me up. I scowled at him and swatted his hand away, standing on my own. “Wait a sec, have you paid yet?”

He actually chuckled sheepishly. I never thought I’d see the day. “You’re right. Where is that tasty little…” He looked around for our waitress, and instead of feeling afraid for her safety or disgusted by his attitude, I felt… No no, that couldn’t be right. I suppressed the feeling, watching as our waitress hurried over with the bill.

“Here you are, sir,” she said breathily. It was too erotic for panting. This girl…

“Thank you,” I said curtly, plucking the bill out of her hand and passing it to Christian. I refused to look at him and see his shit-eating grin he no doubt had plastered all over his face. He flicked out a credit card and handed both it and the bill back to her without so much as looking at the total, and she hurried off while casting a backward glance at him. “Vampires have credit cards?” I asked quizzically.

“You think they’re actually mine?” he chuckled.

“Wait, then whose money is that?”

“One of my retired pets’ cards,” he said dismissively.

“You–!” Words couldn’t even describe how incensed I was. “You’re milking other women of their money to spend it on me? Do you have any shame?!”

He laughed out loud, but after seeing my face, he sighed and shook his head. “Would it make you feel better if I used my own money then?”

“So you do have your own money,” I said accusingly. I couldn’t decide if that made the situation better or worse.

“I’m over three centuries old with no expenses,” he retorted. “If after all that time I couldn’t scrape together some wealth, I might as well off myself.”

“Should off yourself regardless,” I muttered, and he chuckled again.

The waitress returned with his card and receipt, still with that dreamy look in her eyes. I suppressed my discomfort as Christian beamed at her. “Here you are, sir,” she gushed.

“Thank you, my dear,” he said smoothly, his silky voice sending both us women into heat.

“Please come again!” she chirped, biting her lip.

Before I could stop myself, I’d grabbed him by the wrist and began tugging him out of the restaurant. He immediately broke free, holding his hand out for me to take so he could do the leading. Macho asshole. Nevertheless, I let him walk me out, and he shooed the valet away when the man approached to ask if he should bring the car around.

“It’s a lovely evening. Care for a stroll?” he said to me. That smirk of his was back.

“Do I have a choice?” I sighed.

“You are all over the place tonight, pet,” he commented. Shit, had he noticed my strange behavior with the waitress? “Come, it’ll straighten you out, settle your emotions.”

With that, we set off down the sidewalk, hand in hand. He was right though, I was caught in a maelstrom of emotions. Well, most of it was disgust and resentment toward him, but there was also… ugh. Feeling unsettled, I faced away from him and looked through the storefronts as we passed. The restaurant we had dined at was one of those really fancy places that was in a crummy part of town, and the alleys we walked past were the type that people got murdered in. I heard Christian chuckle and realized my arms were clinging tightly around his. Huffing at myself, I loosened my grip and went back to the storefronts. I saw my reflection in the glass, walking alone down the street at night. It mirrored how I felt about my current circumstances, facing a vampire all by myself.

“This seems like a good spot,” he announced as we came to the head of another dingy alley. It was filled with wooden crates, miscellaneous trash, discarded cigarette butts, and puddles of God-knows-what.

“A good spot for what?” I asked in bewilderment.

He guided me into the unlit alley, and my heart rate began to skyrocket. “A good spot to fuck a cheap whore.”

Without warning, he threw the straps of my dress and bra off my shoulders and yanked them down, simultaneously hiking up the hem of my skirt until my panties were exposed. I yelped in alarm, and he spun me around and bent me over one of the crates. Unzipped himself, he unceremoniously plunged himself in me, making me scream as he rent my hymen asunder.

“Fuck… You sick bastard!” I cried, tears forming as he pressed my face against the surface of the crate. Had he buttered me up with a good meal so that this humiliation was crueler? He’d… tricked me… again.

“I know,” he rumbled, steadily pounding into me. His voice wasn’t gleeful like he got sometimes, but deep and grave. The power of his dominance had returned, the voice of a hellish god proud of his handiwork. He held my head down with one hand, one arm twisted behind me using the other while he ravaged me. Roughly, aggressively, dismissively. I was a thing to be used to satisfy him. A pet, a doll, a hole.

With my free hand, I clenched onto the wrist of the hand holding my head down, nails digging into his skin. It was hopeless though, he was too strong, and his thrusts rammed my hips  against the corner of the crate. It didn’t take as long as before for me to give up struggling and just let him fuck me. Aside from the defloration, it didn’t actually hurt. To my shame, I’d gotten wet in short order, so there was no pain on that front. To think that I was not only getting used to his abuse, but actually coming to enjoy it… Had a gained a new fetish? He was messing me up, my mind and body both.

“Does it feel good, pet?” he growled, voice brimming with confidence. His giant cock was stretching me open, violating my walls with every pump as he etched his will into my flesh. I truly was his pet, to be pampered and fed and doted on, only to serve him whenever he wished.

“No,” I grunted through grit teeth. The crate was too high for my feet to reach the ground, leaving me with little leverage for me to attempt to stand. All I could do to resist was weakly kick my legs in protest.

He turned my head a little further and leaned in close so I could see his gilded eyes, hear his sultry voice as his breath caressed my ear. “The truth this time, pet,” he crooned. “Does it feel good?”

The answer pressed against the inside of my chest like a breath wanting to escape. I was drowning in him, desperate to hold it in. He already knows, just tell him. “Yes!” I screamed, tears rolling down my face. He grunted in satisfaction, angling himself to thrust upward and hit one of my sweet spots. I gave a strangled moan and he continued to hammer it, quickly pushing me to the edge. He buried his fingers in my hair and gave it a slight pull, causing me to clench down on him. “Oh God…” Bliss flooded my brain, taking my breath away. My grip on his wrist weakened as I quivered against the crate helplessly.

He stopped thrusting and left himself buried to the hilt inside me while I came on his cock, leaving me feeling like a spit roast. My own spasms and contractions were shifting his shaft around, stimulating me further and extending my high. When my orgasm finally ended, I slumped down against the crate, and he wasted no time pulling me to my feet and throwing my back against the opposite wall. With almost no effort, he lifted me up to impale me on his length, causing my legs to twitch uncontrollably.

“Wait, wait, please,” I begged, my pussy and clit still sensitive. His reentry was making me lose control of my limbs. He bottomed out in me, his tip kissing my cervix, and an aftershock rattled my teeth and jolted my toes.

“Anna…” he breathed, lips skimming against my neck. “My sweet Anna…”

I felt the prick of his upper fangs slowly sinking into my flesh, drawing out the exquisite pain of his bite, followed by his lower fangs closer to my throat. It felt like a drug running through my veins, engulfing all my nerves in pleasure and blotting out the pain. With a sigh, my eyes rolled back in my head and I wrapped my arms and legs around him, welcoming him to fuck me. Insensate and willing, just like the cheap whore he wanted me to be.

“Christian…” I gasped, desperately clutching his head to me. It was getting hard to think straight, likely due to the blood loss. All I knew was that I wished this would last forever. I found myself grinding my hips against his, using my legs to pull him in to fuck me deeper. Without warning, I felt a bloom of heat spreading through the deepest parts of me and I sighed in euphoria, letting my own climax sweep over me.

Thrusting a few more times to push his cum further in, he withdrew his fangs and licked his lips and teeth clean before brushing his tongue over the bite marks to heal them. I was still catching my breath, a bit dizzy from the whole ordeal, and he kissed me tenderly as if he didn’t just take me in a filthy alley.

I blinked the stars out of my eyes, trying to regain lucidity as quickly as possible. The sex was amazing, there was no denying that, as much as I hated to admit it. But this godly cock wasn’t worth the price. As soon as I could stand on my own two feet, I brought my knee up right into his exposed genitals. He grunted and doubled over, though unfortunately he didn’t seem in as much pain as a human would’ve been. Still, not wanting to waste my opening, I stumbled away, out onto the main street on wobbly legs as virginal blood and vampire cum dripped down my thighs. Where was I going? No idea. My instincts only knew I had to get away from him, this bloodstained monster.

I had to lean on the buildings as I shuffled past, and I was fully aware that I wasn’t moving very fast. And… I could hear his footsteps behind me, keeping at a leisurely pace like there was all the time in the world. He was there, he was right there, mocking me by not simply catching up to me and carrying me back with him. But I refused to look behind me. All those dumb horror movies, where the victim keeps checking behind them, it was all so stupid. It served nothing but to scare myself to look back.

My legs finally recovered enough that I could break into a jog. “There’s no escape, pet,” he called ominously. “No matter how fast you run, I will always run faster. Save yourself the effort.”

The hopelessness crept into my heart, and I stifled a sob. “I don’t care. I will never stop running from you. You can take me, but you’ll never have me!”

I wasn’t even looking at my surroundings anymore, I was just turning this way and that, fueled by the animalistic need to survive. And just like all those dumb horror movies, I fucking tripped, landing in the dirt on my hands and left hip. Dirt? Still panting, I looked around and realized I’d wandered into a cemetery. There were headstones all around us, and I quickly curled up into a ball as my heart skipped a beat.

Christian stopped next to me, offering his hand to help me up. “Come along now, pet. Be a good girl.” When I didn’t respond, he took a look around as well before turning back to me. “Don’t tell me you’re afraid of graveyards,” he said slowly.

“I…” It felt stupid, to be scared when I was in his company of all people, but fear was rarely rational.

“Hm. Zombies or ghosts?”

“Ghosts,” I replied, waiting for him to mock me.

“Is that so.” His voice was… gentle. Almost caring. This had to be some kind of trick. “Take my hand, Anna.” I let out a deep breath and swallowed, then complied. He pulled me to my feet and into his arms, petting my hair to comfort me. “What’s there to be afraid of? You have a vampire to protect you.”

Why did that fill me with warmth? Apparently I was so starved for touch and affection that I’d fall for anything. He… He was just manipulating me. “And who’s gonna protect me from you?” I murmured, finally looking up at him.

He didn’t say anything, simply looking into my eyes solemnly. We stood there like that for a long time, abuser and victim together, going from horror to romance seamlessly. Keep your guard up, Anna. He’s taking advantage of your weakness. He brushed my cheek with his thumb, breathing deeply while his gaze wandered over my face. Damnit, he was good. I’d fallen for it again.

I pushed against him slightly, yanking him out of the moment. As if catching himself, he broke eye contact to observe the locale again. “I actually love graveyards. One of my favorites.”

“Is it because of all the dead humans?” I guessed flatly, and he grinned.

“You catch on quick, pet. Nothing better than to see their inferior nature in action.”

I wrested myself out of his arms, scowling at him. “And just how are we inferior this time?”

“You die,” he said, as if it were obvious. “You die so quickly and easily. After all that time and struggle, everything you are gets snuffed out. Meaningless.”

“Just because something ends doesn’t mean that it was bad or meaningless,” I insisted.

“Name one example,” he snorted, beginning to stroll through the cemetery. I hurried after him, not wanting to be left alone in the dark.

“The nice meal we just had,” I suggested.

“To be shat out in a few hours and never be seen again,” he replied. “Fleeting hedonism, as you would say. Why bother with a filet mignon when white bread would do? It doesn’t matter.”

It felt like he was muddling the subject, using double standards. But he was missing the point I was trying to make. “Fireworks.”

“Ah yes, shooting explosives into the sky, a spectacle that only lasts mere seconds. Very meaningful. Are you going to suggest butterflies next?”

“Maybe the point is that things are beautiful because they don’t last,” I insisted. He looked skeptical, borderline dismissive. “Watching a fireworks show, or a butterfly fluttering on your windowsill, are moments, memories that will last longer than the thing itself.”

“Beauty should endure, because then it shows it’s strong. You couldn’t fathom how many lives I’ve seen, Anna, thousands upon thousands of insignificant lives forgotten. You will never know their names because their entire existence was inconsequential. If you don’t leave a mark, you wasted your life. To your claim…” His expression turned condescending. “What’s the point of remembering a butterfly? It’ll rot away into nothing, and it would be like it never existed,” he muttered.

“Then even this moment right now,” I pressed on, feeling a bit frustrated. “You and me… together. Out of everybody in the world, this memory is one that only you and I would have. Nobody else, and that makes it precious. As somebody who likes virgins, wants girls to know only your dick or whatever, I would’ve thought you’d understand that.”

“It’s starting to feel like you’re making another argument altogether,” he noted. “Again, what is the point of all that? So we have this memory of us tonight. One day, you’ll grow old and die, and I will be the only one in the world who remembers this. And for what? I’ll still be alone.”

He quickened his pace, as if to hide his expression from me. Was that… my first look into  real vulnerability? His earlier outburst at dinner came rushing back, how he’d been hurt by everyone. Did he hold his solitude against us mortals? His hands were shoved in his pockets as he walked, and he raised his foot to step on one of the headstones out of spite.

“Hey, stop that!” I snapped, rushing up to him and shoving his leg off.

“They’re dead! You don’t even know them. What does it matter?” he barked.

Huffing to myself, I knelt down and patted the headstone clean. This guy needed some serious therapy and a comprehensive lesson in manners. He hid in his hatred, it seemed.  Brushing some moss from away from the face, I used my phone to light up the inscription so I could read it. It was a smaller stone than the others, hence why it was a better height for him to step on. My throat tightened and my nose itched. “Daisy,” I read.

“What, a grave for a dog?” he sneered.

“Beloved daughter. She…” I continued, pausing to sniff and clear my throat. “She was two months old. Barely lived, but her parents put up a stone for her anyway.” We were silent for a moment, and finally I turned to look at him. “Did she matter?”

He looked… almost wistful, a deep frown marring his typically arrogant countenance. When he spoke, his voice sounded lifeless, as if out of loss. “To be buried is to be loved,” he whispered. “So… yes, she mattered… once.”

My eyes widened as my mind turned his words over again, sensing the significance in them. “Did anybody bury you?” I asked softly.

He looked off into the distance, taking a deep breath and let it out so slowly that it dragged on forever, making him seem ancient. Then he held his hand out to me like before. “Come, Anna. That’s enough for tonight. Let me drive you home.”

Where on Earth had the charming, confident, and corrupt Christian gone? Was this another tactic of his? I… didn’t want to believe that this was just an act. After all, he was human too, once.

Taking his hand, I let him lead me back to his car hand-in-hand, wondering if there was hope for him.