As Constantine stood outside of the art museum doors, he wondered should I ask her or should I just wish her a Happy New Year.
Once inside the door, underneath the massive Chihuly chandelier he spotted her standing by the Docent Tours Start Here sign.
As always, he’d dressed carefully in jeans, with a gray tweed blazer, a blue and gray casimire scarf, with a black overcoat, and polished black boots. His hair was perfect. It was always perfect. He’d worn his glasses with the black frames today.
“Echo,” he said to her, because that was her name. She turned and smiled. “Are you available to show me the drawing exhibit.”
“Hi. Yes. Drawn to Beauty. Yes, let’s go.”
Three other docents stood there, waiting for visitors to request information or tours. She said a few words to them, then off they went, up the stairs, through the hallway full of works from the Southern Hemisphere and Africa, and ancient Greece, to the doors of the Works on Paper Gallery.
Today she wore a black and white checked skirt, a black velvet shirt, an unconstructed purple jacket, and black lace up boots. On her ears were single diamonds. Her shiny hair was pushed behind her ear on one side, and strands from the other side fell in her face, over her glasses. Damn, she was unapologetically charming, and totally clueless about his feelings for her. Around her neck she wore a neon bright docent lanyard with her photo ID tag. He noticed she didn’t have any rings on her fingers today. Maybe she forgot, or maybe she decided to… He thought about the term move on, but sometimes one just doesn’t move on.
He could smell the gardenia scent of her lotion and hair. It was one of his favorites. He could almost feel her type A+ blood. Opened the gallery door for her, as he suddenly felt like a creeper. He should have. For god’s sake he was a Vampire. His sense of smell was like a freakin dog.
They talked about the art. They talked about history surrounding the art. He’d been in this same gallery with her maybe six times. He thought a second. This was the 8th time.
They walked along the walls, the only two in the gallery. He brushed his hand against hers, accidently on purpose. “Do you have any plans for New Year’s Eve?”
She answered him with an unexpected question. “Did you celebrate on New Year’s Eve in the 1600’s?”
“The 1600’s?”
“When some of these drawings were created? Oh come on, I know you were around back then. You were my age back then.”
“What?”
“I know.”
“Know what?”
“You’re a Vampire.”
“Excuse me?”
“I’m a Vampire hunter. Don’t worry dear, I only go after the bad ones. You know the one’s without souls who lurk around in shadows, and live under floorboards, and sleep in dank crypts.”
“Echo, you can’t be serious?”
“It runs in the family. I could sense it the first time I met you. I knew you often came here for events to meet someone for dinner.” She said that with a smile that made him slightly uncomfortable.
A group of about six people came into the gallery. It was always good to see a lot of people visiting the art museum, except when he was flabbergasted by a Vampire Hunter who he was confusingly attracted to, both physically and emotionally.
“Um, we should go up to the Asian gallery. I heard there are some new ceramics I haven’t seen yet.” He knew hardly anyone would be up there, which was sort of a shame, but good for him because they could talk without being bothered.
“Good idea,” she said.
They went up the elevator without a word, then she led him into a gallery filled with natural light and beautiful pottery. Echo took Constantine’s arm and led him to a case along the back wall.
“Look at how the forms haven’t changed in thousands of years. Just in this case alone are thousand year old pieces, and pieces that were made within the past ten years. All are slightly different reflecting their own times, yet the basic forms, and the colors are similar.”
“Good design never goes out of style,” said Constantine.
“It is funny that so many men in movies and graphic novels, those with a paranormal thing going on…so many of them share a name with you.”
“I don’t know. I’ve always gone by my own name.”
He looked at the woman he’d walked the museum with so many times, often going for coffee afterword to talk about art and life and everything two people can talk about, except for the fact that she was a Vampire Hunter, and he was a Vampire. What a sorry cliché.
“Would you like to come back to my house? For coffee. We could make a list and, um then go to the store and I’ll make you dinner.”
Later that afternoon, as they lay in bed, he kissed her neck, and she curled her warm body closer to him. Her and was on his chest. He smiled thinking about the unspoken agreement they had. He wouldn’t bite her or drink her blood. In turn, she wouldn’t pull out a knife and carve his heart out of his chest.
He knew she could kill him, as he could her. She also knew that he could make her forget she ever knew him, and even give her nightmares for a year. But he wouldn’t do that.
Closing his eyes, and stroking her hair, he thought of the year to come, but only for a minute. The sun was going down, and it would soon be night.
“Cheers to an artful New Year,” he said, as he kissed her. “Cheers to friendship, and understanding, and our own form of peace.”
She said nothing, but just smiled back, as she pulled him closer, and he suddenly, from out of nowhere he felt an ice cold chill run down his spine.
“You never know what the New Year will bring,” she whispered in his ear.
No, he thought. You never know.
~ end
Vampire Maman 
Why do I keep thinking about her holding cold deadly steel, before she whispers in his ear?