Cassia's Anniversary

The heavy metal door lurched open with a screech and thudded shut behind her, immediately engulfing Iyla in total darkness. She started down the narrow corridor that smelled uncharacteristically of flowers, trailing her fingertips along the stone wall to feel for the door to the stairwell that would take her underground.

“Should be about here somewhere,” she muttered to herself, squeaking in surprise when the light suddenly filled the space.

Lifting her eyes, she gasped and ogled the peonies— lavender, ivory, and blush— woven into a net of tiny white lights that hung from the ceiling. She slowly turned on the spot, noting the whole length of the space was covered in the same way— no wonder the whole place was steeped in fragrance.

Iyla stepped through the door a couple yards up the hall and into the stairwell where more lighted netting interspersed with flowers— this time soft yellow with long-stemmed pink and red roses— covered the wall and railing. Pillar candles at the base of the walls, their dancing flames eerily lighting her way to the room at the end of its length. She paused at the threshold to take in the sight of more peonies, coupled with hydrangeas and allum, set around the room bathed in the glow of candlelight and the hairs at the back of her neck stood on end just as a pair of cool arms encircled her.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Iyla.”

His voice, low and smooth, sent shivers down her spine. She leaned her back to rest against him and he took the opportunity to skim his hands along her body. With her heart thudding in her ears, Iyla turned, and framed his face with her hands. Stroking her thumbs along the jawline of his cool, sepia skin, she watched his chestnut eyes turn to limpid pools of desire as she sinuously rubbed her body against his.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Darren.”

She purred it, drawing his head down to rub her warm lips over his wintry ones.

“Mmmm.” Darren dragged the sound out when she pulled away. “And when would my love like her gift? Now or later?”

Iyla chuckled and followed the scent of chocolate to a table draped in purple, pink, and ivory linens. A fountain of milk chocolate flowed alongside candies, in the shape of hearts and winged cherubs toting bows and arrows, and ornately decorated petit fours displayed on a tiered, lace doily-lined stand.

She chose a cake dotted with caramel and big flakes of salt sprinkled atop, bit it neatly in half. “Now.”

“Is that so?” He snarled it, the way he did when excited, crossed to her at an inhuman speed.

She spun on her heels and pressed her breasts against his chest. “I can’t wait any longer.”

When her fingernails skated over the backs of his hands and she feathered her breath along his neck, he hissed, unsheathing cuspids longer and sharper than normal. “Are you certain?”

She imagined had he any true breath in his body it would be coming in pants right about now. “Do you doubt me you?”

“It’s just- I was thinking about…” She pulled at his bottom lip with her teeth and Darren struggled with coherent thought. “Cassia.”

Iyla tensed briefly before her hands wandered down the front of his trousers and she pressed her mouth to his. Darren caught her wrists in his hands, retracting his fangs. “We have all night,” he told her, softening his demeanor. “Take the time you need. This doesn’t have to happen tonight.”

“I want this. Tonight is the night I transition.”

He could see the determination in her eyes and nodded, releasing any apprehension he possessed. “Did you ingest the vial’s contents?”

“Right before I brushed and flossed.”

He raised his hands to sweep her hair aside, his pinky nail— sharpened to a point nearly as lethal as his teeth— skating over the tender flesh of her clavicle, covering her arms in goose pimple.

“Are you certain,” he repeated.

“Do it.”

Iyla angled her head and Darren lowered his to sink his fangs into the tender flesh, feasting until she slumped, lifeless, in his arms.

He carried Iyla to the lined coffin in the far corner and gently laid her inside, gazing down at her. She looked so peaceful, her mouth quirking as though on the verge of curving into a smile; joy surged through him.

“Soon, you will wake my love and we will be together forever,” he murmured.

Fussing with the organza of her skirts to keep it from crushing too badly he felt something cylindrical tucked into the waistband and, curious, he withdrew it. A thin scroll with his name scrawled along the seal. His love had written him one last note as a mortal. Unfurling it, he read in the light of a candelabra’s tapers:

Darren, I never loved you. I actually despise everything about you. How could I harbor anything but hatred after you murdered Cassia? She was my person, the only one to hold my heart. I never drank that vial of your blood. My heart has stopped for good. I will not rise. I am dead. I bided my time and played along until I could be reunited my love while simultaneously ensuring everlasting misery for you. I thought it poetic to have you take my life on the same day, in the same way, that you took Cassia’s, and my final moments were filled with glee knowing you were unknowingly destroying your happy ending.

Happy Valentine’s Day, Darren. May you be miserable until the end of time.

Darren stared down at Iyla, seething with rage. Joy now the last thing he felt at the sight of her peaceful and faintly smiling face.