Abigail
The whir of the engine died, replaced by the rhythmic sound of waves lapping against the boat. I braced myself against the wind, which had strengthened as the man steered the ship into the lagoon. Without the ancient buildings to block the weather, it felt desolate—chilling—as we bobbed up and down on the dark waters. Venice was a distant memory, the lights of the city dancing like spirits on the horizon. I shivered.
The stranger opposite me was silent.
I caught him texting on his phone, the blue glow illuminated his features. He had thick, dark hair, cut clean at the sides and styled at the top. His nose looked broken once or twice and left crooked. Strange. He looked like the type who could afford basic plastic surgery. Dark clothing gave him a sleek silhouette, as though he'd stepped from an important lunch meeting. While he was tan, his skin was slightly ashen.
His eyes darted to mine as he slipped his phone into his pocket. Meeting his gaze, I noticed his irises were odd—like burning amber. They sparked with animalistic intensity. For a split second, I considered jumping into the freezing waters. Flee from him. It was a strange instinct and one I pushed down. Instead, I opened my mouth, hoping the conversation would ease my nerves.
"Thank you for saving me back there. I thought those men were going to..." My mind wandered, thinking of the dead man in the square.
"You don't need to thank me," he said, his hands feeling around the bottom of the boat.
"Why aren't we moving? Did the engine die?"
"Not exactly" he replied. The man tugged on a rope and lifted the cement block tied at the end. He held the massive object like it was a feather, then let it tumble over the edge of the boat. It splashed into the water, then fell out of sight, the rope trailing after it. It halted as the anchor hit bottom.
"Are we not heading ashore?"
"Not until you answer a few questions."
The stranger didn't look at me but instead reached into his pocket. Silver glinted in his hand. At first, I thought it was his gun from the fight, but the object was too small. It wasn't until he flicked out a cigarette that I realized it was a vintage lighter. His black cigarette was hard to make out in the dark. As he lit it, I got a whiff of cloves and the acrid burn of tobacco. He took a drag and exhaled a cloud of smoke, which the wind blew straight into my face.
"Do you mind?" I coughed, waving a hand around my head, but he ignored my protests. Instead, he leaned in, an orange ember glowing between his fingers.
"Who are you and why are you hunted by the Mietitori?"
"By the what? I'm sorry, I'm not fluent in Italian."
"The two men who were chasing you. How did you come to be their target?"
"How is that any of your business?" The words spilled out before I could think. The truth was, I had no idea who this man was and why he'd cornered me in the middle of the Venetian lagoon. For all I knew, he was one of them...whatever they were.
I blinked.
What were they?
It was a question I hadn't let myself ask for the sake of self-preservation. Something in me, however, knew exactly what I'd encountered in the square that night. It was an ancient predator, something that lurked in the shadows and stole power from human blood. Even if I knew their condition at my very core, my mind still tried to deny it.
They couldn't be...
Vampires weren't real.
The man opposite me sighed and took another drag of his cigarette.
"I don't think you understand the predicament you're in, so let me spell it out for you."
He pointed to Venice in the distance.
"The Mietitori are the deadliest men in Europe. They don't concern themselves in the affairs of normal citizens. Which means...you either pissed them off, or you aren't a normal citizen. Either way, you are in grave danger. Thankfully for you, I may be able to help."
He watched me like I was an animal at the zoo or a book he was studying. What he didn't realize, was there wasn't much to learn. My teeth chattered, and I rubbed my palms together to warm my skin. All I wanted was to curl back into my comforter with a cup of tea.
When I looked up to him, his amber eyes flashed. The ember of his cigarette danced around his face, swirling clouds of smoke framed his features. A dull ache formed in my head, as though his gaze pained me, but I couldn't avert my eyes. Curls of white mixed with amber and I fell into a trance, a strange spell cast upon me.
"I took a long way home..." my breathing became labored as I returned to the memories. "...There was... so much blood."
Something prodded me in my mind, like a nail dragged against a chalkboard.
"Where?" he asked.
"In Cannaregio. South of where you found me. They took a man and drained his life from him, right in front of me. Right there."
"Ah."
"They were vampires, weren't they?"
Silence. The prodding in my mind urged me away from the subject.
"Have...have you heard of the parasite in mice that make them unafraid of cats?" I asked. "They'll scurry right up to their natural predators and offer themselves as a snack."
"Sure. I read an article about that once."
"Yeah, it was like that parasite. Those men are predators. I knew that the moment I saw them. But I couldn't move, couldn't speak, couldn't...do anything. I just watched them suck a man dry and I...liked it? No. It wasn't that. Something inside wanted them to see me. That's why I stayed and watched. If my instincts hadn't kicked in, I don't think I would've survived." I shook my head as if that'd clear the smoke from my eyes. "I don't know why I'm telling you this. I-I'm..."
"Oversharing? Don't worry, that's unfortunately normal," His fingers pressed into his temple, and he grimaced. His cigarette had burnt down to its base, leaving a pillar of ash.
There was a pounding in my head. Like a gavel hitting stone set to the beat of my heart. The moment I thought my skull was going to crack, there was a release—my mind free from the vice which held it. My stomach lurched, and I leaned over the side to vomit.
"Yeah, yeah, I don't like it either," the man muttered, then flicked the cigarette butt onto the floor. The boat tipped to-and-fro, then icy fingertips brushed my neck as he pulled back my hair. I was sick over the edge as he held my tresses. While his presence made me uneasy, the gesture was kind, at least. Once finished, I spat into the water. While my head swam, at least there was nothing left in my stomach to empty. I wiped my lip on my sleeve.
He'd already left my side, a fresh cigarette tucked above his ear as he pulled up on the rope.
"W-what did you do to me?"
"Nothing fun," he said. He slipped and dropped the cement anchor on his foot, then grumbled. His thick hair was messy from the wind, flying in his face.
"You're like them, aren't you?"
The man froze. Muscles tensed in his neck and bared his teeth. They were normal, canines maybe sharper than average. Why had I expected fangs?
"I'm nothing like them."
"You know what I mean," I said.
"All you need to know is that the Mietitori are assholes. I take a certain pride in hating their guts and wishing them dead. The fact they blatantly broke the law and I have a witness to that..." he gestured with his hand at his lips, fingers spreading out like a flower in bloom, or a chef describing his favorite dish. "...Bellissimo."
He turned to the motor, ripping the cord until it sputtered to life. With a tip of the chin, he asked a silent question.
Where next?
I waved my hand toward Mestre.
With a nod, he steered the boat in a circle to head to shore. The smell of cloves blew away, replaced with the salt of the lagoon and the pungent gasoline of the motor. My teeth chattered and wouldn't stop no matter how hard I tensed my jaw. I moved my hands up and down my arms to get the blood flowing.
Something hit my back, and I yelped. As I took hold of the object, I realized it was the black blazer the stranger wore. I turned and raised an eyebrow. He shrugged in reply.
"I'm Matteo, by the way," he said, his voice carrying over the engine.
"Abi," I replied, shrugging on the blazer. It reeked of tobacco, but it was better than nothing.
"I have a feeling we'll make fast friends, Abi."
I let out a heavy sigh.
With that, we watched the lights of the city pass as he guided the ship toward the mainland.