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Quentin crept through the night as stealthily as he could manage skirting the perimeter of the Brakebills campus on his way to the portal. He was supposed to meet Margo, one of his oldest friends, in New York City. They had met up once a month since he’d started at Brakebills. She was loyal and discreet and always did her best to keep Quentin supplied with everything he needed. And he missed her since he had left the city, so their monthly meetings were a lifeline in Quentin’s lonely existence. He’d been so excited to learn magic, and Brakebills had finally offered him that chance, he planned to make the most of it.
A noise sounded behind him and he stopped, frozen, listening…straining to hear the slightest footfalls. But there was only silence. He looked around, sharp eyes scanning the trees, but there was nothing. He started forward again, the portal in sight. He performed the tut that allowed him to step from the wooded quiet of the school into the dirty streets of New York. He hurried quickly to the end of the dark alley and down the dimly lit street towards the assigned meeting place.
His eyes caught a shadow behind him as he moved around a corner. His head whirled around, breath catching in his throat. Was that the edge of a cloak or his mind playing tricks on him? His pulse began to race as he moved faster through the chill night air. An unlit alley loomed in front of him and just beyond was the corner where Margo was supposed to be waiting for him. But she wasn’t there.
He bit his lip and stopped in his tracks. Suddenly a whoosh of air struck him and he felt himself being pulled backwards. His hands clutched at nothing, trying to feel his attacker, discern who it may be. And then he was up against a cold stone wall, the darkness of the night closing in on him. Out of the shadows a tall, graceful figure emerged, silky, dark curls framing a deathly pale face, eyes glowing like burning embers.
“Hmmm…what have we here?”
Quentin let out a frustrated huff of air as he recognized his assailant. “Eliot…where’s Margo?”
“Sadly, she was not able to make it tonight. But she filled me in on her little mission of mercy. I’ve brought your precious supplies.”
“You…you did? Uh…thanks. But you didn’t have to. Margo could’ve just rescheduled.”
The other man’s fangs flashed briefly in the dim light of a nearby street lamp. “What, little one? Are you disappointed to see your lover…your maker?” Quentin shivered as a long finger stroked down his cheek, “it’s been so long since we’ve been together. Margo, she is ever loyal, ever present…but you, my dear, you have always followed where your heart led…even when it was away from me.”
Quentin swallowed and turned his eyes away from the beautiful creature before him, “It’s not…I’m not disappointed…I’m not avoiding you, Eliot. I just…I’ve been searching for something…for so long…and I feel like I’ve finally found it. Or maybe…I don’t know…but I just needed space to explore that on my own. Away from our relationship.”
Eliot caged him in, hands pressed against the wall on either side of his head as he leaned down, baring his fangs again. “At Brakebills?” he hissed in disdain. “I should’ve drained that magician who showed you that spell to allow you to walk in daylight. He filled your head with notions about magic changing the world. That’s not how it is, Q. Remember when I met you in that tavern in Trenton all those years ago? You felt the connection between us, even as a human. You begged me to make you what I was. I gave you magic. I made you into a magical being.”
“You did, and I’m so grateful, Eliot…I would’ve died so long ago if it wasn’t for you…and I love what we are to each other, what there is between us.”
At this Eliot pressed closer and bent his head to nip at Quentin’s lower lip. A helpless little moan preceded Quentin’s next words as he pressed their bodies closer.
“But that can’t be all there is…I need more. I need friends, I need work, study…magic. And right now Brakebills gives me that. And I’m not…I’m not asking you to understand. You have so much power already, so much more than me…you’ve lived so many centuries longer. But you know I’ll always come back to you.” He pressed his lips to Eliot’s, hot and insistent.
“I’ll always be yours,” he gasped out as he broke away from the kiss, pulling himself back, away from the longing, the pull of remembered passion.
Eliot nipped at his lower lip again, letting Quentin feel the sharpness of his teeth before he separated from him, stepping back and nodding. He reached for the messenger bag he carried and passed it to Quentin, “here you are little one, enough blood to get you through to next month.”
Quentin gave him a shallow grin, nodding. “Thank you. And thank Margo too for me.”
A scuff of shoe on asphalt drew their attention and in a flash Eliot was pulling someone from the shadows, “Looks like you were followed, my dear. Is this one of the Brakebills set?” Eliot asked as he drug the short, dark-haired girl closer, kicking and screaming.
“Jules!”
Don’t listen to him, Q!” She exclaimed frantically. “He’s a vampire! It’s Eliot Waugh…he’s more than a thousand years old. He’ll drain you and leave you for dead. Vampires can’t be trusted!”
Quentin’s mouth fell open and Eliot chuckled lightly. “How cute, Q, you’re new friend is trying to warn you.”
“Jules you don’t…you don’t understand,” Quentin said with a shake of his head.
“No human,” Eliot agreed, “you don’t understand…you see…Quentin here is a vampire too.”
Julia went still in Eliot’s grip, her eyes boring into Quentin’s. “No…no, Q. Is it true? Are you, Quentin?”
Quentin looked between her and Eliot sadly and then with a flash of resignation in his eyes he took a step forward and bared his fangs, his eyes glowing like twin coals in the night. Julia let out a frightened scream and squirmed in Eliot’s grasp. He gave her a little shake to silence her and then looked at Quentin questioningly. “Do you want me to…”
“No,” Quentin cut him off, “no, I’ll deal with it. Just leave her with me.”
Eliot raised one elegant eyebrow, but obediently dropped Julia at his feet. “As you wish,” he intoned as he gave Quentin a heated look. “Go back to Brakebills and learn magic as you please. But don’t forget me, dear one. I’ll see you again next month…with more blood to sustain you through your studies. Perhaps then we can have a more...extended reunion, with less intrusion.” He leveled a pointed glance at Julia and stoked a possessive hand over Quentin’s neck.
Quentin swallowed and struggled to keep his thoughts on the girl at his feet and not the blood heating and racing through his veins at Eliot’s mere touch. “How do I contact you?” He said calmly, his voice only cracking a little.
Eliot smiled, knowingly, “Margo has my number.” With that he nodded his farewell and was gone in the blink of an eye.
Quentin let out the breath he didn’t know he’d been holding and bent to help Julia to her feet. She didn’t shy away, but fixed him with a cold glare as she faced him. “All these months you’ve been hiding this from me? This is huge! I thought we were friends.”
“We are…I couldn’t tell you Jules. I couldn’t tell anyone. They’d never let a vampire into Brakebills. I’ve spent a hundred years working out how to hide from them in plain sight. I couldn’t risk telling anyone.”
Her gaze narrowed, “A hundred years? How old are you, Q?”
He looked at the ground sheepishly, “Um…I was born in 1754…I met Eliot in a tavern while celebrating our victory at the Battle of Trenton.”
“During the Revolutionary War?” She asked with a note of awe in her voice.
He nodded, “We’d just been through Valley Forge, the Delaware crossing, and then there was the battle. Even though we had won I was so depressed. I’d seen friends die, I’d killed people…I wanted a way out…and there was Eliot. And he was beautiful and charismatic and…he wanted me. We started sleeping together and then he started feeding from me…and then finally I asked him, no…I begged him…to make me into a vampire.”
Julia stared up at him with shrewd eyes, weighing his every word. “Do you regret it?”
He sighed tiredly and shrugged, “I don’t know…not really, if I’m honest. Most days it’s fine. Some days I’d rather not exist at all, in any form. But being at Brakebills, walking in the daylight, learning real magic…I want to keep doing those things. Please…promise me…you won’t tell anyone what I am?”
Julia considered her answer, head cocked to the side as she studied him intently. At last she seemed to make a decision, “Alright. You haven’t drained anybody yet, so let’s just keep it that way, ok? And if you keep your fangs in check, I won’t tell Fogg.”
Quentin gave her a hesitant smile, fangs carefully hidden from view. “Thank you…it means so much.”
She gave a soft chuckle as she turned and motioned for him to follow her back towards the portal, “You may not feel like that after a while. I have so many questions you’re going to get sick of me. Now…tell me about George Washington, was he anything like Christopher Jackson in Hamilton?”
Quentin’s laugh echoed through the night. And watching from above a tall, graceful figure looked on…and waited.