The Fangs He Gave Me

I'm going to die. That's the only thought running through my head as I press my back against the cold concrete wall, watching blood run down my arm. Two men circle me, their eyes glow gold in the darkness, and when they breathe, I hear growls rumbling deep in their chests. "Nowhere left to run?" The taller one steps closer, a wicked grin spreading across his face. My thin dress was torn, barely covering me, and the way they looked at me made my skin crawl. "Please," I beg, hating how pathetic I sound. My whole body shaking with fear. "Please, I don't know anything..." "You smell like him." He inhales deeply, his nostrils flaring. Heat floods my face. I can still feel Dante, his hands on my skin, making love to me just hours ago. Hours ago, he was alive, holding me, promising to protect me. Now he's dead. They killed him and now they're here to cut off the loose end. Me. "Did he turn her?" The other one circles me, sniffing the air. "I smell his blood." I don't understand what they mean. The man's fingers begin to elongate before my eyes. His nails darken, becoming sharp claws. "Any last words?" I open my mouth to beg for my life one more time. A growl comes out instead. **** Eight months ago, I was just an ordinary twenty one year old lady who had nothing. No family. No future. No hope. My mother died when I was sixteen and my father, whoever he was, never bothered to be part of my life. Growing up, I was passed between relatives who saw me as an extra mouth they couldn't afford to feed. I had to drop out of school at fourteen to fend for myself. By eighteen, none of my relatives cared anymore. I was on my own. I worked at a restaurant, a waiter. I was the kind of girl men looked through, not at. Too plain to be pretty. A faceless servant. That's what made Dante so impossible to understand. Six months ago, he walked into the restaurant on a Tuesday afternoon. I felt drawn to him immediately, even though I knew a man like that was way out of my league. Tall, handsome and dangerous-looking in his expensive leather jacket that probably cost more than everything I own. He sat down and waited for me to attend him, his green eyes tracking my every movement. "What can I get you?" I asked, my eyes looking down like always. "Look at me." I glanced up, startled and surprised. Men didn't usually care if I looked at them, in fact I was never supposed to make eye contact. But his eyes… damn, his green eyes were beautiful, and the way he looked at me… "What's your name?" "Ella." My voice came out small. "Ella." He said it slowly, tasting each syllable. "I'm Dante. I'll have whatever you recommend." I recommended the smoked chicken package. He ordered it without even glancing at the menu, his gaze never leaving my face. When I brought his food, he caught my wrist gently. The moment his hand touched mine, goosebumps erupted all over my skin. "When do you get off?" "I... two hours." My heart was pounding. "I'll wait." And he did. For two whole hours, he sat there, watching me work. Waiting for me. No one had ever waited for me before. After my shift, he took me to dinner at another restaurant where I couldn't pronounce half the menu. Food that cost more than I made in a month. "Why me?" I had to ask. I needed to understand. "Why not you?" his fingers playing with a strand of my hair in a way that made my heart skip. "You could have anyone…, anyone at all. Why would you want me?" "I don't want just anyone," he said quietly, his hand cupping my cheek and pulling me to meet his intense gaze. "I want you." "But why?" I whispered, tears burning behind my eyes. He was quiet for a long moment, studying my face. "Because you're the only one for me. I just want to love you, Ella. Let me love you." God, how I wanted to believe him. But I know nothing good last forever, especially for girls like me. Still, I hoped. For the first time in my miserable life, I had hope. **** Four months ago, he showed up at my apartment with his truck. "You're moving out of this shithole," he announced. "But Dante..." "Don't worry about it." He cut me off gently as he started loading my pathetic belongings. Only two garbage bags holding everything I owned in the world. "You're with me now and you deserve better." The apartment he took me to was big and clean. Real furniture. A real bed that didn't sag and the bathroom didn't have cockroaches running around. I stood there speechless, afraid that if I blinked, I’ll wake up from this dream. This couldn't be real. Things like this didn't happen to people like me. "Baby, I've got you." He pulled me into his arms, his warmth surrounding me. "Welcome home." And for the first time in my entire life, I felt safe. That same night, while I rested my head against his chest, listening to his heartbeat, he asked me to quit my job. "But I can't just... live off you. I need to work, I need to contribute, I need—" He kissed my lips softly, tenderly. "Just let me take care of you Mama." So I did. Still, I waited for him to realize I was a mistake, but he never did. Days turned into weeks, weeks into months, and somehow, he never stopped choosing me. Dante made my life beautiful. Around two months ago, I started noticing things like him coming home with blood on his clothes and phone calls that stopped the second I walked into the room. "Are you... are you in trouble?" I asked him one evening, fearing for us. "I'm always in trouble, baby." He pulled me close and kissed me. "But everything I do, I do to protect you. Never forget that." Part of me knew something was seriously wrong. But I ignored the signs. I ignored all of it because I was I was terrified of losing what we had. Then yesterday evening, he came home tensed, looking out our window like he was being followed. "Is something wrong, baby?" I asked, my stomach knotting with dread. "Just business." "Dante..." "Don't worry about it." His eyes desperate. "Just... if anything happens, Ella, You run and you don't look back. Promise me!"