switched instruments, using a banjo instead of a guitar, but the moment I turned my head back to him, he would meet my gaze.
I was enjoying myself, but I realized that I needed to bring our staring contest to an end and leave before the vampire got the idea I was actually interested in getting to know him better. It’s been well established (by me) that I don’t have boyfriends. I sleep with men occasionally when I feel the urge, usually the kind of men who don’t want to be called again. This suits me fine. I’m not interested in romance. I don’t believe that people meet, fall in love and get married. There is no such thing as happily ever after. And now, with my newfound powers and a sidekick named Elsa, I am especially not interested in dating.
Of course, this vampire never said he wanted to date me either. I had no evidence that he wanted anything to do with me. Last time we were alone, he’d abruptly stopped talking and disappeared. In fact, I didn’t even know if vampires liked humans, let alone dated them. But the biggest black mark against him? He was already dead, which meant he had a lot of free time on his hands. To me this was the fatal flaw. The last thing I needed was a guy with too much time on his hands hanging around.
Having had this entire conversation quickly in my head, I reluctantly packed up as the band was ending its set and abruptly set off, walking into the massive stream of people surging toward the main stages. I was never so relieved to be swallowed by a crowd and I hoped it would help me disappear. I was allowing myself to be pushed along with the general direction of the mob when I felt a whisper of breath against my ear and a set of firm fingers on my shoulder.
“I see you still can’t finish what you start,” he said, his Southern drawl sounding stronger today.
I turned to face him and was prepared to deny all when I found myself looking into eyes far darker than they had seemed from the stage. I exhaled before I could stop myself. My God he was beautiful. And calm. He was still giving off the calmest waves of energy I had ever felt. I, however, did not feel calm. I was feeling anxious. How had he found me so quickly, and in such an enormous crowd?
“Have we met?” I asked, using my haughtiest voice.
My remarks caused him to throw his head back and laugh. “You spent my entire set ogling me, and now you’re going to pretend we don’t know each other? That is downright cruel.”
“I was not ogling,” I said, unable to steel myself against his charm. “I was watching you play. I happen to like bluegrass music.”
“Liar,” was his reply.
We were at a standstill. As I stood watching him, trying to control my breathing, it occurred to me that he was standing in the mid-day sun.
“Are you going to burst into flames if we stand here?” I asked genuinely not wanting to draw that kind of attention to myself. I mean, how would you explain that to the police?
He smiled. “No, I will not burst into flames, but I would like to get my hat and my guitar and find some shade. Would you care to join me, ma’am?”
It was the ma’am that got me. It was delivered in a velvety drawl that sent shivers down my spine. I was transported to my imagination’s version of the South, with a door being opened at some luncheonette so I could stroll in and order a tall glass of lemonade. And like that, all of my “I don’t date,” “I don’t get involved,” disappeared and I walked off with a strange vampire into the middle of a music festival.
We walked back to the stage where his band had performed. He pulled several lanyards with plastic badges from inside his shirt and showed them to a guard, who let us both walk behind a makeshift fence. As we headed toward the back of the stage, I found myself ready to ask questions.
“Do your band mates know?” I asked.
“Know what?”
“You know,” I said. “What you are?”
“They know,” he said, picking up the same straw cowboy hat he’d been wearing in the tunnel. “They don’t much care as long as I show up for our performances.”
“They must live in the Mission,” I blurted