his lips were crimson [vampire]

one

CHAPTER ONE

MOST PEOPLE ONLY GET ONE FUTURE, ONE CAREER, AND ONE LIFE, and as Christian Vasiliev sat on a random bar stool in the corner of the Tana, regretting everything he'd done that day, he realized he never got to experience the type of sacrifices a normal human being had to make.

The possibilities of what he could do with his life were endless and he never lived the same life twice. He lived every day different, not wanting to put the curse of his immortal body to waste.

As he looked across the Tana, he found himself bored.

To the right of him was the bar, people downing shot glasses and conversing with strangers, desperately trying to forget the bad decisions they made or the danger they felt surrounding them. To the left, people were dancing, rubbing their sweat covered bodies over each other, banging their heads to an almost nonexistent tune, as the Tana's light jazz echoed off the walls.

Two types of people with the same worries and concerns stood—or danced—side by side, not a care in the world. Neither interested Christian though, and perhaps it was because he wasn't entirely sure where he wanted the night to go.

There was a list of bad decisions he made, and he didn't want to add on to it. He rubbed his tired eyes softly, slouching into his chair to make himself more comfortable.

"You know," it was an unfamiliar voice. "Most people don't waste their time coming down here only to sleep." Christian laughed.

"I'm a man of mystery."

"You don't say," the woman sat down next to Christian and rested her hand on his knee. "What's bothering you tonight?"

Sighing, Christian opened his eyes to stare at the woman. She had ginger hair, bob length, and green eyes—the type of girl he never really went for. She seemed innocent, but he knew people all too well to believe it was true. "I'm just here for the music. It's hard to find good jazz anywhere nowadays." The girl smiled, pressing her rose lips together.

"And somehow I just don't believe that."

He laughed and took another sip from the glass of alcohol placed in front of him. He wasn't sure what was in it, but he knew it was the only thing helping him get through the night.

"You're intense," the girl noted.

"Ah," Christian laughed, "and that's where the mystery comes in." The woman's hand, which was placed delicately on his knee, moved further up his thigh.

"Would you like to dance," she paused, staring into Christian's hazel-grey eyes, "man of mystery?"

He shook his head and took another drink of his beverage. He wasn't drunk enough for whatever game the woman wanted to play with him. "Something tells me you don't know much about jazz," he sighed, grabbing her hand, placing it into his. With her hand off his inner thigh, he somehow felt better about what he was about to do. He placed her hand carefully onto her own leg. "Take care," he told her, looking forward at the wide variety of wines on their stools, hoping she would take the hint.

The woman frowned, stood up from her seat and placed a hand on Christian's shoulder. "If you want me," she said, leaning in towards his ear to whisper, "I'll be on the dance floor."

Christian let her walk away before he turned his head towards the bartender in hopes to get something stronger. The bartender was chatting with a woman on the far side of the bar, and when he turned away, Christian was met with a familiar face.

She was the only person Christian wanted to talk to and see before he met with the witch. He had been calling her for weeks, following as many leads as possible to get to her, but every end was a dead one. To see her in the Tana, sitting just a few mere yards away, gave him the most satisfactory feeling in the world.