When Fate Interferes
1452 Words
“You shouldn’t have come here,” Catherine’s words echoed in Jane’s head like a haunting whisper, but it was too late. The night was thick with magic and danger, and Jane’s feet pounded against the cracked pavement as she ran through the fog-draped city streets, her breath ragged, her pulse racing.
Everything had happened so fast.
She made a careless move and was recognized by one of the vampires. She’d been warned: every creature, every vampire, every werewolf had been watching her from the shadows, waiting. Because they all knew the prophecy. They all feared what she could become.
Jane’s eyes darted left and right as she ran, her long cloak sweeping behind her like a torn wing. She cursed herself for sneaking out without telling Catherine, but there was no going back now. The howls grew louder. They were gaining on her.
“I’m such an i***t,” she muttered to herself as she sprinted across the street. “Catherine’s going to kill me if I survive tonight. And have too”
Her legs were burning. Her heart was crashing against her ribs.
Then she sawa house. Lights were on. A door slightly ajar. With no other option, Jane bolted across the yard and threw herself inside, slamming the door shut behind her.
She turned, gasping, pressing her back against the wood.
Then she froze.
The room was warm, golden with soft light, and filled with the scent of something sweet and spicy… cinnamon and cologne. Music played softly from a speaker in the corner. And in the center of the living room, completely unaware of her entrance, was a man dancing.
Naked.
Jane blinked, stunned. Her chest still rose and fell heavily from the run, but her eyes refused to leave him. The man moved with ease and rhythm, swaying his hips like no one was watching, which he obviously thought was true until he opened his eyes and saw her.
“WHAT THE HELL?!” he yelled, stumbling backward and nearly tripping over the couch. “Who are you?!”
Jane raised her hand quickly. “Shhh! Please! Keep your voice down!”
He stared at her wide-eyed, his arms immediately going to cover himself. “What are you....why are you in my house? What do you want?”
“I.....I didn’t mean to,” Jane said, catching her breath. “I was being chased. I needed somewhere safe.”
They stood there in silence for a moment, both breathing heavily for very different reasons.
The man looked down and finally realized he was completely naked. “Oh my God,” he groaned, scrambling to grab a nearby pillow and cover himself. “You should have knocked before barging in!”
Jane raised an eyebrow, still staring at him. “Your door was open.”
“That doesn’t mean—!” he paused, seeing the flush in her cheeks as she tried to look away but failed miserably.
He was tall, sculpted like a statue from a forgotten myth, with deep brown skin that glistened under the warm lights. His hair was coiled and soft, slightly messy from dancing. His jawline was sharp, lips full, and his eyes… even in panic, they held something kind.
“Okay,” he said, trying to compose himself. “Okay, okay. Look, just… just give me a second to put on something, alright?”
He backed away awkwardly, still holding the pillow, and disappeared into a hallway. Jane stood in the middle of the room, heart still racing—but now for an entirely different reason.
“What the hell just happened?” she whispered to herself, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.
The front door rattled suddenly. She jumped, spinning around.
But the noise faded. For now, she was safe.
The man returned minutes later, this time wearing a T-shirt and joggers, still slightly flushed from embarrassment. He crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes.
“Now… do you want to tell me who you are and why you broke into my house while I was mid-twerk?”
Jane couldn’t help the laugh that slipped from her lips. She covered her mouth quickly. “I’m sorry. Truly.”
He smirked slightly despite himself. “I’m Noah.”
“Jane.”
Noah tilted his head. “You okay, Jane?”
She hesitated. “No. But I think I am now.”
His eyes softened.
**********************************
Noah returned with two glasses, the amber liquid swirling lazily inside. He handed one to Jane, his fingers brushing against hers for just a moment longer than necessary. She noticed it, and so did he but neither said anything.
He sat beside her on the couch, not too close, but close enough to notice the way her hair fell over one shoulder, the way her lips curved even when she wasn't smiling, the quiet fire behind her eyes.
Jane lifted the glass and took a small sip, her fingers still trembling slightly from the chase.
Noah watched her.
"You’re… different," he said after a long pause.
She glanced at him. “That’s vague.”
He chuckled. “No, I mean it. The way you move. The way you barged into my house like you weren’t scared of anything… even when I was standing there, um, wildly underdressed.”
Jane smiled, her eyes softening. “I’ve seen worse.”
“I bet you have,” he said, lowering his voice a little. His gaze moved over her face, pausing at her lips before looking into her eyes again. “You're beautiful, by the way.”
Jane looked away, a blush blooming across her cheeks. “Thanks,” she murmured, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
The silence between them was thick but not awkward. It was charged.
“So…” he started, leaning back slightly, still watching her. “What did you see out there?”
Jane’s expression shifted. She looked down into her drink. “Nothing,” she said quickly.
Noah smirked. “Right. Nothing usually doesn’t chase people through the streets of New Orleans.”
“I didn’t say I was being chased.”
“You didn’t have to,” he said gently.
Jane stared at her glass, then stood up slowly. “Thank you… for letting me in.”
“Wait,” he said, sitting forward. “I should probably tell you something. Since you came running in here like a storm.”
She turned, eyebrows slightly raised.
“I’m not exactly what you’d call… normal,” he said carefully. “I’m a vampire. Sort of new in town. Been here a few months.”
Her eyes narrowed slightly, but she didn’t step back.
“I came here to disappear,” he added. “New Orleans has enough ghosts to hide a few more.”
Jane stared at him, silent.
“And you,” he continued, standing slowly, his voice quiet but steady, “have the look of someone who’s running from something worse than me.”
She didn’t answer.
He stepped a little closer. “What was out there?”
Jane shook her head and stepped back. “I appreciate the help. But I can’t stay.”
Noah’s brows furrowed. “At least tell me your name.”
“I did,” she said, moving to the door.
“No,” he said softly. “Your real name.”
She paused, hand on the knob, not turning around. The shadows of the room stretched long beneath her.
“That's my real name” she said instead.
Then she opened the door and slipped into the night, leaving Noah standing there, glass in hand, watching the space where she'd just been.
And even though she was gone, her scent lingered… lavender, salt, and something ancient he couldn’t place.
Noah stood there a moment longer, whispering her name under his breath.
"Jane…"
- Writer
