The nearest hospital was Saint Johns Trauma Center. Despite how much I dreaded inhaling that scent of a hospital, bleach and death, I walked through the sliding doors without so much as a flinch. My face was pinned into a frown, but I was going for sadness not anger. There were babies crying in the waiting room and a stretcher rushed down the hall way ahead. I walked up to the counter where I had only a few people in front of me. I used the few moments I had to contort my face into the most convincing face of sadness possible.

“May I help you?” the woman spoke looking up for a brief second. She scribbled furiously on the notepad in front of her.

“I’m sorry, I’ve just been waiting here forever,” I’m sure she wouldn’t have known that I had been or not. From my experience emergency rooms always had lots of people waiting for long periods of time. “And I really need to use the bathroom…there’s someone getting sick in the one over there.” I pointed in the direction of the bathroom near the waiting room. “Where’s your other one?” I prayed the door to the bathroom didn’t open just as I said this.

“Down the hall to left, past room 124.” She didn’t even look up as she spoke. “Next.”

“Thanks,” I mumbled in a miserable tone. I hurried down the hallway and found the nearest young technician I could spot. He was taking his break sipping a cup of coffee with tired eyes staring out the window.

“Excuse me?” I spoke softly as I tapped him on the shoulder. The hospital traffic weaved its way around me like I was invisible. Things were working well so far.

“Can I help you?” he turned his head to me looking me over, obviously liking what he saw.

“I need some help locating a friend of mine that should be rehabilitating here.” I made my eyes start welling up tears. Honestly I just wasn’t blinking so they would become dry and start collecting tears.

“What’s your relation to the patient?” The usual professional tone wasn’t there, he was concerned, but he was asking the standard questions.

“I met him last night while I was out with my friends and well, he explained to me that he hardly had any…family here…how they had…” I cued the tears to stream down my face. He sucked in a quick breath. Nothing hurt a boy more than seeing a pretty girl cry.

“Then I saw his car on the news today in that horrible accident, but I couldn’t remember his name very well. It was one of those generic names, but I really felt a connection to him…and…I can’t imagine waking up in the hospital…without,” I sniffled, “anyone to comfort me.”

The technician put a hand on my arm and stood up. “I wish I could help you, miss. But I’m afraid that man checked himself out last night only an hour after the crash.”

My façade of sadness slipped and revealed the shock of his words, but hopefully the anger didn’t show. “Are you,” I cleared my throat to regain my mourning tone. “Are you sure? The crash killed the other passenger.” The word hit me hard. Now it was true sadness on my face. But I couldn’t let thoughts of April consume me at the moment.

“Yes, it surprised us too, but he insisted on checking out immediately. He didn’t have any major injuries so they allowed it.” He pursed his lips into a line. “It was quite strange how he walked away from an accident like that…”

“Could you please give me his name? I still would like to check on how he is doing. I’m sure he’s in shock…” I looked down at the ground and twisted my fingers nervously like someone who was innocent.

“Well the name he gave us was John Roberts, but the police informed us later that it was a fake.” He frowned.

“Oh…” My plan had failed. “Well, thank you anyway…” I turned on my heel slowly and walked away sadly.

I stepped outside the sliding doors and cursed loudly. Why was my luck so terrible? I guess that meant plan B was now into effect. My watch read nine forty-three. There was plenty of time to enact plan B.

I pulled into the parking lot of club Bamboo. Hopefully, just like every stupid club hopping boy, he would return to his haunt. I decided to stand outside and smoke a cigarette before entering the club I was in no mood to enjoy.

A man walked up to me his dark black eyes connecting with mine. An overwhelming panic rushed over me before I could even recognize the face.

I collected myself and threw the cigarette butt down. His black dress shoe glinted as he rubbed the cigarette out beneath it. I flashed him a flirty smile and batted my eyelashes. “Thank you.”

“Would you like to accompany me inside?” His smooth tone didn’t match the jeans and t-shirt he wore. It’s like he was a mature man dressed in boy’s clothing. I’m sure that worked perfect for enticing the innocent young girls like… I couldn’t bring myself to think her name again tonight.

“I’d love to.” The words were hard for me to think, let alone say, but I hoped he believed them. He put a hand against the small of my back and passed right by the bouncer with out paying. They exchanged a quick glance at each other but that was it, no verbal greetings. That was strange to me; I hadn’t realized he was someone of importance really. He seemed plain enough to just blend in with the crowd.

I humored him by drinking a martini or two, making small talk in between sips. I couldn’t continue the scripted conversation anymore, I was going to lose my cool sooner or later and blow my cover.

“Would you like to dance?” He asked as if he had misread my annoyance as longing for something else.

“I thought you’d never ask,” I lied. He led me to the dance floor where last night I had been carelessly losing myself in the glitz and glamour of flashing lights and beautiful people.

I pretended his chest pressing against my back was someone else, someone I was actually interested in…perhaps a stranger with a fast car and a mysterious-

“You look like you’re somewhere else,” he said, close to my ear. His breath sent shivers down my spine, but not in a pleasuring way. I held back the urge to shove him away and traced my finger across his lips.

“I’d rather be somewhere else…if you could assist me in that…” I lightly kissed his neck, nearly gagging.

He turned his head to face me. What threat could I possibly pose to such an arrogant person? I was sure he wouldn’t refuse my offer.

“I’ll have the valet retrieve my car.” As we walked outside, the blaring music fading behind us, his car pulled up. He hadn’t even had a chance to tell the valet he wanted his car. Something was terribly strange about all this…but I ignored my intuition. Tonight I was in control, despite how it appeared to be. The car was obviously not the same as the one that had been totaled last night, but it was just as nice. The leather seat conformed to my body as I strapped myself in.

“I hope your house is as nice as this car.” I stroked his ego.

He frowned. “This car is nothing compared to the other one I own. It’s in the shop right now.” He smirked arrogantly. If I hadn’t known the truth I might have inquired more about this mystery car, but I avoided the question like a pile of debris in the middle of the road. It wasn’t too long before we reached an elaborate, gated driveway. I suppressed the urge to gawk. The gates parted slowly, making a mechanical grinding sounding. The driveway was a lot longer than I had expected; it must’ve been nearly half a mile before a large mansion came into view. This time I couldn’t stop my jaw from dropping.

“Yeh, it’s nice, but it gets lonely.” He parked the car directly in front of the set of marble stairs. He walked around to my side of the car and opened the door. “By the way, my name is Alexander. You never asked.”

I stepped out, straightening my short dress as I did so. “I’m Cali.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Such a beautiful name.” He offered his hand to me as we left the car and followed the steps towards the front door.

The inside was not quite what I expected. It was rather empty, save for a couch here and a chair there. There was a minimum of one lamp per room, if that. I had a suspicion this was the reason he lit the tons of candles in the living room, rather than to set up any sort of sexual atmosphere. The house smelled almost musty, like it was hardly inhabited. There was a slight layer of dust on the shelf the candles sat on.

“Make yourself comfortable on the couch. I’ll be right back.” He exited through a doorway at the back of the room. I clutched my purse next to me gripping the cold metal it enclosed. Just a little bit more leading on, a little more time for him to get comfortable, then it would be perfect.

He returned with two glasses of bright green liquid. A strange stirring spoon balanced precariously on the rim of the glasses; a sugar cube centered upon each spoon.

“Have you ever had the pleasure of tasting Absinthe?” he asked as he set the glasses down on the wooden table.

I spared him the story of my youth when we ordered it off the Internet, expecting hallucinations to follow once we finished our drinks. “No,” I lied again.

He demonstrated the proper way of dropping the sugar cube and stirring, it didn’t seem like anything special to me, but I humored him and copied exactly as he had done. I vaguely remembered something about lighting it on fire before drinking it, but I wasn’t going to press the issue.

“Good, precisely!” He smiled at me.

“Cheers.” I raised my glass to him. They touched with a clank of glass that broke the silence of the room. The strong liquid burned my tongue and left the familiar bitter after taste I remember hating the first time I had tried it. I felt my lips curl into a disapproving expression.

“It takes a bit of getting used to. It’s an acquired taste,” he smirked as he finished his glass. I had no intentions of gaining a liking of Absinthe tonight.

“I’ll finish it, just not right this minute.” My drink looked like it had hardly been touched.

The red walls of the room felt like they were closing in on us, or perhaps that was my window of opportunity closing. I felt myself getting nervous.

“Is it alright if I smoke in here?” I pulled my pack of cigarettes from my purse.

His face was blank. “Let me get you an ashtray.” He left the room. I relaxed a bit and flicked the lighter to the end of my cigarette. The nicotine calmed my nerves for a second before he returned with the ashtray.

“I haven’t used this is ages.” He said as he set a porcelain object on the table that resembled a bowl more than an ashtray.

“Are you sure you didn’t get your china confused with your ashtray?” I remarked. There was a gold leafing around the edge, and an intricate design on the basin.

“It’s nearly as old as my china, probably worth thousands if I ever had reason to get it appraised,” he said nonchalantly.

Now that it was pointed out to me I quickly realized most everything visible in the house, aside from the sparse lamps, appeared to be an antique!

“Do you,” I cleared my throat, “collect antiques?” I asked, slightly repulsed.

“You could say that…” he trailed off glancing at the ‘ashtray’. I exhaled a breath of smoke and before I could see a blur of motion he had snatched it from my lips and snubbed it out in the ashtray. His hands were stroking the soft skin of my cheeks, making circles with his thumb. He made a move for my dress, his hand brushed against the collar of my shirt. I moved my lips to protest but he was already ripping the high collar down to reveal my chest. He wasn’t using much force and I shoved my body weight against him in a swift movement that caught him off guard. His eyes flashed with the light of the candles as he bounced against the stiff couch back. I lunged for my purse, which had been tossed below the table at this point. He made a sound that resembled a growl and the couch squealed against the porcelain tiles. The sudden movement of the couch threw me to the floor and I saw him pouncing in my direction. Before I could think of it my hand had grabbed my drink off the table and it was flying in the direction of his face. The green alcohol splashed inside his eyes and his momentum was stopped. He cried out and fell backwards against a table at the end of the couch.

Before I realized what I had done there was a shriek like nothing I had ever heard before. It raised every hair on my body and made me grit my teeth. He had flames shooting up from the alcohol on his face. The candle had knocked onto him as he fell backwards against the table. He fell to the ground writhing uncontrollably and I pulled the gun out from my purse like I had rehearsed it a millions times before. He stopped twitching as the sixth shot penetrated his chest. The flames extinguished themselves.

I was frozen in the spot where I had fallen, my gun clutched with a death grip in front of me, waiting for another movement so I could empty the entire magazine into him. But it didn’t happen. He didn’t move. I began breathing again, still clutching the pistol, and crawled over to the spot where his body lay. His skin was black, but not just on his face where the fire had ignited, all over. His hands were coal black and slightly resembled the look of coal as well.

I grabbed my purse and shoved the gun back inside. The front door flung open easily and I ran down the elaborate staircase. He was dead. I was sure of it. An eye for an eye, I had succeeded. April was avenged now, and I would be able to grieve her openly now. Without much thought I jumped into the driver’s seat of the car out front. Not only had he not locked his car he had left the keys inside like any arrogant snob would. As the head lights lit up I saw the crumbled wreck that had been where April experienced her last moments. I was shaking as I sped off down the driveway. I would have to calm myself before I reached the road or it would be even harder to explain to a cop why I was driving erratically with a gun in my possession despite having a license for it.

I parked the car in an empty lot near the club I had been hours before. There was still a large crowd outside meaning it hadn’t closed yet. I retrieved the valet ticket from my purse as I crossed the street to claim my car. With a hurried stride I reached my car and as my fingers graced the familiar black finish I calmed myself a bit. I let out a long exhale of breath and clutched my fingers around the car keys. I pressed a button on the key ring and heard the click of the doors unlocking.

“Fancy finding you here.”

I gasped and spun around to the origin of the voice. “Get away from me!” I screamed. A hand clapped over my mouth.

“Just get into your car quietly and close the door,” he spoke calmly.

I sunk my teeth into the fingers covering my mouth. The skin didn’t give way beneath my bite.

“I can see you’ll be a bit harder to deal with than I had expected…” He spun me around and his arm was pressed against my throat instead. I couldn’t breath; my throat was pinched shut beneath his arm. With his free hand he opened the car door and shoved me inside with my head barely missing the doorframe. The door slammed shut followed by the passenger door slamming.

I inhaled, preparing myself to scream again. His hand pressed my lips against my teeth firmly again.

“Now, calm down. I’m not here to hurt you. I’m here to help you.” I realized how often those words were spoken by criminals intending on inflicting the worst of crimes on their victims, but I relaxed anyway. I had recognized the voice; it belonged to my mysterious stranger from last night. He loosened his suffocating grip on my mouth.

“Are you going to calm down?” he asked.

I nodded slowly, my pulse slowing.

He removed his hand from me and places it at his side.

“What are you doing?” my voice was still raised.

“Calm down.”

I breathed in and out a few times, deliberately slow.

“I came here to find you. You’re in quite a lot of trouble.” He ran his hand through the unruly brown hair hanging in his eyes.

I gulped, holding my purse between my knees, silently unzipping it.

“You won’t need that. I promise you, I pose no threat to you…tonight.”

Somehow, his words didn’t relax me, in fact they made me go rigid.

“What I mean to say is, I’m here to protect you.” He sighed like he was doing something he was required to do, not something he was doing willingly.

“What are you talking about?” My voice shook.

He stared out the window of the passenger side and seemed to be looking in the side mirror. “Alexander.”

I sucked in a quick breath.

“There are certain…people…” he exhaled impatiently and ran his hand through his hair again. “You’re going to have people after you now, and I’m not referring to the police.”

I furrowed my eyebrows.

He whipped his head around to look out the back window like he had seen something. I copied, but saw nothing.

“Can we go somewhere to talk?” he spoke quickly. I almost had to ask him to repeat the question but I caught enough of it that I could piece it together.

“I just want to go home…” I spoke softly, my shaking returned.

“That’s fine. We’re safe there.” He pulled his seatbelt across his chest.

I didn’t move. “We? I meant that I wanted to go home alone.”

He laughed. “The only reason you’re not dead yet, especially sitting in this parking lot, is because they think I’m taking care of you.”

My eyebrows lowered even more. “What?”

“You know exactly what. You can’t possibly believe that you’d live through what you just did with out some help?” When I made no hint of responding he added, “or are you that arrogant of human?”

Something about the way he threw ‘human’ in at the end of his sentence caught me off guard. He wasn’t just someone who had witnessed me fleeing the crime scene. He knew something I wasn’t aware of.

“Drive,” he ordered. He stayed quiet the entire ride until I pulled into the garage of my apartment complex.