Christmas Moon(12)

"Perhaps you should know that your attacker ended many lives, Samantha. He would have ended yours, too. In fact, he was just seconds from doing so."

The so-called watcher lapsed into silence and continued rubbing his jaw. The physical movement seemed to intrigue him, and now he slowly ran his hand over his own soft lips, feeling them, using his fingertips as a painter would a sable-tipped brush. I had the impression Ishmael rarely manifested in the physical.

I was about to speak, but suddenly found speaking difficult. I was back to that moment in the park, experiencing again the ungodly strength of the thing that had attacked me, the blast of pain of being hurled against a tree...the fear of being pounced on by something so much stronger than me. Yes, I should have been dead many times over. So, instead of speaking, I thought: You saved me.

Ishmael briefly paused in his exploration of his face. "It wasn't your time."

"Then why let me get attacked at all? Why let me get turned into...this thing?"

"Fair questions, Sam, but we are not quite the guardian angels as you think of us. Not the static lighted angel on top of your Christmas tree, assembled by small children in an Asian country. Not the Michelangelo-ish ones painted on ceilings of cathedrals or glorified in Christmas carols and hymns galore. Not the ones in old movies on TV, getting our wings every time someone rings a bell. Not those angels. Not."

"Then what the hell are you?"

"Think of us as custodians of destiny."

I blinked, processing that. "You help fulfill destinies?"

He nodded. "I helped you fulfill your destiny, Sam."

"And my destiny was to become a vampire?"

"Your destiny was to become immortal. Vampirism was one way to achieve that."

"So, I chose this life?"

"You did."

"Why?"

"I'm not at liberty to say."

"Why not?"

"You are not ready for the answer."

I fought through my frustration. "Will I ever find the answer?"

"Yes, someday."

I drummed my fingers along my desk, my thick nails clicking loudly. They sounded fiendish, like the claws of something dark and slimy moving quickly over the floor. I said, "So, in effect, the moment I turned into a vampire, the moment I became immortal myself, you were out of a job."

"That's correct, Sam."

"So, what have you been doing these past seven years?"

"Watching you, Sam. Always watching you."

"Why?"

He looked away, and as he did so, he looked very, very human. And even a little uncomfortable. He kept looking away as he spoke. "Because I'm in love with you, Samantha Moon."

Chapter Ten

You there, Fang?

I'm always here for you, Moon Dance.

Oh, cut the crap. Half the time, you've got a woman over there.