The Last Silver Lotus

It was raining. Nor waited, determined to get some answers now that she wasn’t cowering in a dark doorway. She picked Flatbush Avenue, a very busy street, to meet him. She caught sight of him walking towards her, dressed in his long leather coat and black and white scarf but despite the rain, he was wearing sunglasses. Nor glanced around herself, comforted by the presence of people but when she turned back, he was right beside her.

She startled.

“How do you do that?”

“What?”

“Just—appear and disappear so fast.”

He chuckled. “Lots of practice.”

He didn’t seem menacing in the daylight. Still, Nor vowed to keep her guard up.

“Why the glasses? Not exactly the sunniest day.”

“My eyes are—sensitive—to light.” She waited for a longer explanation but he took out a pack of cigarettes, holding them to her.

“No, thanks.” He lit one, inhaling deeply.

“So. You had questions.” They started walking. She glanced his way again before pulling out the picture of the man with Grams. He stopped, handling it tenderly between his fingers. Nor couldn’t see his eyes but he seemed to melt a little.

“She kept it.” The wistfulness in his voice could not be missed.

“So you are saying this is you.”

He handed the photo back, taking another drag, exhaling slowly before he answered.

“Yes, it is.”

“That’s not possible.” He huffed, taking another long drag before grinding the cigarette butt with the toe of his combat boot.

“And yet, here we are.”

“You are telling me you are the same age as my grandmother but you look—what—twenty-three, twenty-four? What are you, a vampire?” Nor laughed at her joke.

He didn’t.

He faced her from behind the darkness of his glasses. Unearthly still, like he had the other night. The laughter choked in Nor’s throat.

“Wait—you are convinced and you want me to be convinced—that you are a vampire or some kind of mythical creature.”

“Myths are only realities you don’t believe.”

“So let me get this straight. You want me to believe you are a vampire because you say you knew my grandmother when you were both young and I found a picture.”

“Let’s ask her.”

Nor stopped walking. He actually said that. He didn’t know her after all. She felt foolish. This was nothing but a scam and this guy was a psycho. Nor plotted her escape.

“Hey, look, thanks for meeting with me. I appreciate it.” She turned to leave but suddenly he was right in front of her.

“It’s hard to believe, I know.” His voice was a low whisper. “But I need to warn Eleanor. Years ago, after her son was killed, I sent her a letter. I didn’t tell her it was me because—well for obvious reasons. She thinks I’m dead. I told her to keep safe but that the person who had threatened her was in prison in Siberia and no longer a threat. But now, he is. I need to warn her!”

A sudden, high-pitched scream interrupted them. Across the street, a piece of scaffolding with a window washer clinging to it hung loosely just above a young mother with a stroller. She stared at the swinging beam and the man about to fall on her but was rooted in the shock of the moment. Nor’s scream caught in her throat when impossibly, Dante was there catching the swinging piece of scaffolding, holding the man, and bringing both safely to the ground. He whirled toward the young mother, sweeping her and the stroller away from the danger. It took seconds. People on the sidewalk were frozen in a tableau of disbelief.

Suddenly, the baby in the stroller howled, breaking the spell. Everyone began talking at once, cell phones snapping pictures from all sides. Nor barely knew where to look as Dante joined her.
“Can we get out of here? I know a cafe nearby.” He grabbed her elbow before she could respond, hustling Nor down Flatbush Avenue and into The Souk Café. A bell tinkled as they entered.

“Dante!! As-salam alykum, my friend! Shlonak?” The jovial man behind the counter came around and kissed Dante on both cheeks.

“Wa’alykum assalam. Zehn, zehn.” Nor stared at Dante. She knew nothing of this man.

“Welcome, welcome to you, and your friend,” he winked as he took Nor’s hand, “I always told Dante he needs a good woman.”

Nor blushed as Dante glanced at her but she was completely shaken by what had just happened, a million questions crowding her brain.

“She’s—a family friend—” he began to explain.

“Of course, of course!” he winked again. “Zamir at your service, miss. What can I serve you?”

“Tea would be good.” Nor was trembling as she noticed Dante’s obvious discomfort. He appeared very young and unsure of himself but he, too, nodded.

“Yes, tea, Shukran.” Zamir busied himself with their order. Nor stared at Dante as they sat stunned silent. The scene outside had been surreal.

“Could you take off your sunglasses? It’s hard to talk to someone when I can’t see their eyes.” Nor’s chills wouldn’t stop.

Dante regarded her for a long moment. Then he took the glasses off. His eyes were deep midnight blue but his irises were rimmed blood red.

Nor started, pushing back her chair in shock, speechless. He stared at her another moment.

“Better?”

Nor steadied herself, willing her breathing to slow down as she regarded him warily. She glanced away from his demon eyes, but the red circles floated in front of her despite her efforts. She fought the urge to run out of the cafe, feeling out of her depth. What was this guy? Time slowed for what felt like hours. Her indecision kept her rooted until the hum of the cafe slowly returned to her senses. She took in the other customers, and Zamir, believing she was safe there anyway. Her gaze finally swept back at him.

He was stunning to look at, an unearthly sheen making his skin look alabaster, his dark hair, his midnight ruby eyes, haunted. He didn’t look so young anymore, and Nor had the sensation of free fall. How could anyone not see how different he was? She turned away, staring at the sugar bowl just as Zamir brought over a teapot and two glasses, the mint scent wafting from the pot. He made a show of pouring the tea, lifting the pot high above the small glass yet not missing a drop. He bowed when he was finished, and left the table. Dante’s gaze was hot and intense.

They sat in awkward silence. He broke his gaze, staring down at his hands, again appearing like a shy young man of twenty-three. When he did finally look up, Nor saw his eyes were old and full of pain, before he glanced down once more, seemingly at a loss for words.

“What happened back there?” She finally broke the ice.

“What do you think happened?”

She sighed with frustration. “Can you not answer a question with a question?”

Dante didn’t respond. His gaze lifted once more, his red eyes scaring the hell out of Nor. She wanted the glasses back on.

“How did you become—what you are?” She blurted out.

Dante chuckled darkly, but Nor saw a flash of fear in his eyes just as they slid away. She almost thought he wasn’t going to tell her until he started talking.

“It was—during the war. World War II. I was badly injured during a battle in France, on death’s door to be honest. In the aftermath, I was lying in the mud, staring at the sky, waiting for death. But the US Army has a deadly secret.” He paused, staring down at his hands for so long that she almost thought he was not going to continue. When he faced her, the red in his eyes was bleeding.

“Almost dead soldiers are turned into vampires by a secret group of officers who roam the battlefields and morgues following a battle.” He leaned forward when he saw Nor’s face, determined to convince her, “I know it sounds crazy but think about it! An army of soldiers was almost impossible to kill because they were dead already. Lethal. Fast and deadly. Fearless! Although, I can’t be sure my fear is completely gone. But that may just be a lingering vestige of my long, lost humanity.”

Nor stared at him incredulously before shaking her head.

“Are you joking? The US military is turning dead soldiers into vampires.”

He bristled but he sat back and shrugged.

“Believe what you want. You asked me a question and I answered it.”

“I didn’t ask for a fairy tale.”

“Stop being a child. Not all stories are fiction!”

His response was a slap. Nor sat back to catch her breath. She gathered her things, angry at herself for being gullible.

“Look, this is a mistake.” Before she could move, Dante grabbed her wrist, his grip crushing her bracelet into her skin, the heat of it painful. In the same instant, he pulled back as if he had been burned. Nor pulled her arm away from his reach.

“Silver.” He breathed.

“What?”

“Your bracelet. It’s pure silver. It—burns me.”

Nor froze. The room faded into the background until there were only the two of them. Her breath caught in her chest as she tried to decide what to do. He watched as Nor struggled with her decision. She was ice cold inside even as her bracelet burned her wrist. The room swayed. Dante moved to steady her as she backed toward the door.

“Please.” His voice was low, pleading. “I need you to listen to me.”

“Why? Why are you here? Who are you, really? I feel like I am getting caught up in some sick game.”

“It’s no game! I just—please, just hear me out. It’s important. After that, if you still don’t believe me, I’ll—I’ll leave you alone.” Nor wasn’t convinced but her curiosity overcame her fear. What happened on the street was super-human. He had some kind of power, she wasn’t sure yet what, but it convinced her he was not wholly human.

They scrutinized each other warily.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he began.

“Really? Why should I believe that? You are asking me to trust a stranger.”

He stayed silent, watching Nor under hooded eyes, the blood redness turning burgundy.

“You are so much like her.” Nor held her response. Although she had heard this many times before, from him it didn’t sound like a compliment.

“If you want me to hear what you have to say, don’t change the subject!”

He had the grace to look chastised. He sat with his tea glass, seemingly trying to urge the warmth into his hands.

“I apologize. I guess I have lived with this for so long that I just assumed—” He stopped a moment. “Your grandmother did you a great disservice not telling you about your history.”

Nor bristled at his criticism of Grams even though she was feeling the same. She sat and took a sip of cooling tea, calming herself before responding.

“You must realize how bizarre this all is for me. I am not even sure I believe what you are or what you have told me. How is this real? Is everything a lie, or, a secret, or—what? I didn’t know anything about you before you found me.”

The hurt skimmed across his face, the sadness naked in his eyes, but he composed himself quickly.

“Your grandmother thought I was dead. I—there was no way to tell her otherwise. I wanted her to have—a life as we had dreamed of. I can’t say why she didn’t tell you about me, maybe things are less painful if you try to forget about them and move on.”

Nor allowed his words to sink in a minute, sensing the anguish behind that confession. She realized he had never forgotten Grams.

“I feel like I’ve been pushed into some kind of sick fairy tale. Vampires, coins, family secrets. I mean, who could make this stuff up? I’m not trying to be rude but, again, why are you here, exactly? What do you need to get out of all this? You stalk me,” his eyes flashed darkly, “and tell me this outlandish story that I can’t even confirm because my grandmother has lost her memories.”

That shocked him.

“Put yourself in my shoes! If you had someone tell you this happened to them, what would you advise them to do?”

He paused, gathering himself, “I would tell them to run the other way as fast as they could.” She stared at him, as suddenly, inexplicably, they both burst into laughter.

“Okay, well, thank you for being honest about that. You must know that’s my first instinct.”

He smiled, striking Nor again at how incredibly beautiful he was although his beauty seemed fixed. Like a statue—or a fly caught in amber, never to age or change if she fully believed his vampire story. She drained the tea glass. What he said next sent a quiver of fear into her gut.

“Your bracelet is beautiful.” Her hand instinctively went to her wrist, still tingling from its heat moments ago.

“Thanks. Grams gave it to me—for my fifth birthday.” She impressed what it meant to her.

“The number five is auspicious in Chinese culture. I noticed you have five charms. And you say it was on your fifth birthday.” Nor realized that he had been collecting details about her.

“Yes—I did know that.” She waited for him to continue, alarm bells going off in her head.

“So, it seems she has told you something of your history.”

“What? I don’t understand. What does my history have to do with my charm bracelet? And why did it burn you?” She grew uncomfortable as he sat back without speaking. The need to get out of the cafe choked her. She stood up quickly.

“Thank you for the tea but I do need to leave to process everything. I’m—overwhelmed.”

“Yes, of course,” He stood as Nor stood, “I would like to meet again. Please. I know I am asking you to believe an unbelievable story but I think we can help each other.”

“Maybe. I need some time. I haven’t forgotten the part where you told me our lives are in danger, and you have not explained that.” She hung a moment, giving him an opening but he didn’t speak.

“Well, goodbye then.” She turned to leave as his voice called her back.

“Take as much as you need. I’m not going anywhere.” His dark red rimmed magnetic eyes read her as she shivered, surprising and chastising herself for the rush of desire she suddenly felt and ignoring the utter danger she was in.

His sentiment was not comforting but she nodded and left the cafe.

all rights reserved. Tina Celentano 2023