The night air possessed a pointed chill. I only knew this because I saw John before he slipped into Robin’s rental car, teeth chattering and arms huddled close to his body. Fresh snow had fallen on the mountains of Lake Tahoe some time the night prior and as a result, the wind carried the crisp bite of winter when it blew past. October in the mountains. I had not realized, when Victor and I chose the place we would be wed, that white-capped peaks would provide the backdrop to our outdoor ceremony.

It seemed almost magical.

I recall driving up to the resort, fresh from a five hour flight with Victor behind the steering wheel, leading us through winding paths toward our destination. As the snow appeared into view, I marveled over it, grinning at my soon-to-be-husband and making an offhanded comment about snow angels. The corner of his mouth curled upward. He countered with what precisely we would be doing on the ground if such a thing were to transpire.

Needless to say, the shiver running up my spine, then, had nothing to do with the temperature.

This time, though, I slipped my hands inside the pockets of the wool trenchcoat I wore, as though I could sense the chill the same way our mortal son could. It was not lost on me how long it might be before I saw him and his sister again. When we yet lived in San Francisco, I said goodbye to them, not knowing what the future held as Victor and I left for Las Vegas. While our plans to globetrot were delayed then, we now held the tickets to verify our next destination would be Europe. In another continent. Heaven only knew what would change between now and the next time I saw John and Lydia.

Victor spoke my name, breaking me from my thoughts.

I shifted my focus to the man I just married, and could not help but to grin when our eyes met. He smiled in response. “Are you ready to depart, lover?” he asked as his hand touched the handle to the driver’s side door.

I nodded. “Whenever you are, maestro,” I said, winking and studying Victor for a few lingering moments before opening the passenger side door and slipping inside. Within moments, we found ourselves nestled in the confines of the Mustang we rented, en route to the Reno airport. The soft melody of classical music streamed from the radio’s sound system and for a short time, I became lost in the notes and measures being played. Until Victor spoke again.

“Is everything alright, my poet?” he asked, glancing at me quickly before focusing on the road once more.

The question itself might as well have been a formality. My lover and I could sense nearly every sentiment not being blocked from the other through the ties of our blood bond. My own powers provided a psychic link between us and Victor had the ability to borrow my talents if he wished to read my mind. Still, I much preferred it this way at times; speaking our concerns aloud rather than taking verbal communication for granted.

“For the most part,” I said, punctuating my words with a smile. My hand reached for his leg on impulse, seeking the comfort of touch. “Simply pensive, but not in a bad way.”

“Anything you wish to talk about?” One of his hands lifted from the steering wheel, finding mine. Our fingers intertwined.

I looked toward the car in front of us, making out the taillights of Robin’s rental somewhere on the winding road ahead of us. As I began to speak, my thoughts took form, some of them the content of a conversation we had engaged in earlier that day. I had showed him a photograph of Monica and the children I held onto for fifteen years, taken during my brief years spent in mortal form. A necklace belonging to Monica was brought to me by Robin as well when he joined us in Lake Tahoe. I relayed to Victor my intentions with both items of nostalgia.

Our conversation drifted into thoughts about the past.

The photograph and necklace had been in storage for eight years. Relics of another life, I once cared very little for revisiting those years, as the thought alone would often threaten to consume me with melancholy. Eight years were spent in Philadelphia, helping Robin manage his coven, my duties enough to occupy my attention with the day-to-day problems of nesting with thirty vampires. On occasion, however — when the nights were bereft of activity — I would take long walks. My mind would stray toward what drove my family apart.

In my darkest thoughts, I can imagine what it would have been like had I kept the photograph especially on display. Rising night after night with a constant reminder of what was missing in my life staring me in the eyes. A spouse with which to share my life. Being able to hold John and Lydia and watch them take their first steps; watch them form personalities of their own. They were five and three when I had to leave. Fifteen years flew by, like the passing of the wind upon the desert sands.

Had my life been left to this emptiness, I can imagine my years as a vampire might have been short. The next time fate knocked on my door, demanding I become the seer again, I might have become reckless on purpose, to see how long it took before a sword pierced my heart and rendered my form to ashes. As it was, I struggled to maintain some semblance of composure, fooling the world into thinking I was a calm, settled immortal.

Fate, however, had other plans for me.

In the present, I smiled at Victor, pausing for a moment to look at him and whisper my love for him. The grip on his hand tightened and my lips produced the next line of thought which held me soundly in its throes.

***

My mind strayed to the past year. Within the span of these short months, everything transformed into the reality I now inhabited. I met Celeste and only weeks later, a young lady mustered the courage to come knocking at the coven door, requesting to speak with me. By the night’s end, my now-grown daughter wound up tight in my embrace, both of us compensating for years lost within the span of hours. I began to believe the miraculous was not finished with me, after all. What followed only reinforced that conviction. My son, John, turned eighteen under the Philadelphia coven’s roof. Now a young man, he resembled me as though a twin carved from my very DNA, his personality reminiscent of the woman I said goodbye to all those years ago.

Some time after this, a roller coaster ride of sentiment swept me along for the ride of my life.

I left Celeste. I left Philadelphia, with Lydia and John in the able hands of their Uncle Robin as their caregiver while I journeyed to California. The trip intended to help me clear my thoughts, I operated under the guise of assisting local covens as an adviser while spending most of my time mired in the tumult of love lost, found, and lost again. The most cunning psychologist could not have told me just what this vampire’s heart was seeking. A companion, this much was certain, but under what form remained to be seen.

I bounced around in fruitless pursuits. I returned to Philadelphia, then ventured back to San Francisco again with Celeste and the children. The entire episode threatened to rip apart my sanity, especially after Lydia fell sick while yet in Philadelphia and had to be turned. The world drew in a deep breath and exhaled a mighty wind of change, reinventing the entire landscape of my life. I failed to make sense of most of it while lost in its manic throes. It would not be until some weeks later that the world finally made sense.

He was waiting on the other side.

***

I squeezed Victor’s hand, feeling the ring recently placed on my finger. My smile turned soft and memories spilled out as though given the stage for their proper deference. I relayed to him thoughts of our first encounters and we shared a laugh over the sheer irony of it all.

***

Had any creature or mystic of the mortal world informed me one day Victor and I would be married, I would have deemed them a lunatic and doomed them to a life of insanity. We nearly came to blows in one of our first conversations and a thorn stuck in my side from that point forth I could not pluck out. I wanted to hate him. The more I learned of him, however, the more I lamented the fact that circumstance prevented us from being friends from the start. When I returned to California, the grand humor of the cosmos reunited me with my one-time rival. Only this time, things were different.

Within a matter of weeks, he came to live with Celeste and me. A nest formed from the unlikely threesome, with a strange attraction to Victor rising to the surface I could neither deny, nor bring myself to fully realizing. As we lingered in each other’s presence, though, I felt myself become more drawn toward him. The first time I kissed him, my psyche shook. My soul quivered with the realization I had fallen in love with him. The depths of this would be plumbed more as weeks turned into months.

I remembered visiting Victor in Las Vegas after a few days spent apart from him. At the time, I wanted to run into his arms and kiss him, losing myself within the embrace while clutching him tight against me. It was the first time I understood how much he meant to me; how much being away from him pierced my heart. From there, the love we fostered rapidly turned from flame to conflagration.

Not much later than this, he asked me to run away with him.

Two weeks later, we pulled up to his residence in San Francisco and the next day, I woke to find myself lying beside my lover as the next phase of our life commenced. I recalled walking around the spacious house in wonder, aware now it would be Victor and me together, inseparable for the remainder of our eternal existence. The surreal met with the delightful; the stress of the preceding weeks broke like cloud parting, permitting the moon to shine once more. As I skimmed a hand over counter tops, furniture, and any other surface I could touch, I confirmed to myself this all was truly happening.

I felt the same the first time I woke with him in Las Vegas, and each night afterward settled me into this life, while speaking in louder and louder tones that my soul and Victor’s had become completely entangled. I recalled the look in his eyes when he asked me to marry him and flashed forward to the gaze we shared as we exchanged vows.

***

Stealing a glance at the ring on my finger once more, I spoke the words I once penned about my eternal companion.

Everything was different, and everything was blessed.

We pulled into the Reno airport as the bout of nostalgia came to a close and exchanged a kiss before getting out of the car. As I plucked our suitcases from the trunk, I paused to pass one to my lover, then stole a glance toward the heavens while setting out for the terminal, hand-in-hand with Victor. A silence settled between us, both of us lost possibly in the same train of thought. I stared at the passersby and stole a quick glance at our children as John, Lydia, Robin, and Delilah strolled beside us through the airport.

It seemed the world came full circle in that moment, the past meeting with the present, with the future lying in wait before us. Lydia and John would return to California with their uncle, and whatever laid in wait for them would find them whenever the time was right. We would see them again, this much was certain. I needed no visions of the future to verify this in my mind.

Victor and I were headed to London, to sojourn a few days before catching a flight to Rome. I looked forward to the journey with eager anticipation. Yet, one thing remained to be done before I could board the plane.

We reached our gate and regarded our family, both of us smiling and exchanging our goodbyes. After parting from embraces and accepting kisses and well-wishes, I held up a finger and asked Robin to stop before leading the others to the gate of their departure. He perked an eyebrow. “What is it, dear brother?” he asked.

“I have something to give the children,” I said, placing the bag in my right hand onto an adjacent seat and lowering the one slung around my shoulder to the floor. Unzipping the first bag, I extracted two gift-wrapped packages, handing one to John and the other to Lydia. They glanced at each other. Lydia nodded her head, indicating John should open his first.

He shrugged and peeled the wrapping off quickly, reminding me of a child on Christmas morning.

As he extracted the photograph, I smiled on impulse and watched as he ran a finger across the glass protecting the picture. The frame not its initial home, I reserved the original encasement for a photo of Victor and my wedding and chose a new frame to house this picture. John stared at it for a long, lingering moment, then looked up at me. “This is us and Mom?” he asked.

I nodded, the smile remaining a fixture on my face. “Yes, it is,” I said. “The only one we ever had. It was taken just before we all were separated. I have kept it with me all these years and wish for you to have it.”

John nodded in response, his eyes settling on the image again before returning to mine. “It’s awesome. Thanks, Dad, I really appreciate this.” He reached forward, hugging me tight, and in the embrace I read all the sentiments a young man had trouble expressing. He held no memory of his mother. I only hoped this would fill the space where a void lingered.

I patted his back twice. “You are very welcome, John.”

He pulled away. I thought I caught a glisten in his eyes as he looked at Lydia, telling her to open hers now. A much smaller package, it rested in her hand without much evidence of what laid underneath. I watched as she turned it around once and peeled back the wrapping with much more care. She opened the lid to the jewelry case with an air of reverence. Lydia stared at its contents before asking what it was.

I plucked the necklace from inside the case, helping her fasten it around her neck. “This belonged to your mother,” I said. “She wore it for a long time for protection, and then as a memento of our first days together.” When Lydia turned to face me, I grinned. “I thought she would wish for you to have it. I am only sorry I did not give it to you sooner.”

She looked up at me, an expression on her face I could only read as wonder. Her hand lifted slowly, her fingers touching the pendant as though attempting to memorize it by feel. Two hearts, with a thorny rose engraved on top, were covered by her hand and her eyes became distant in thought for interminable seconds. I smiled softly when she looked at me again, and held her tight when she wrapped her arms around me.

The kiss placed on my cheek emanated a warm sensation even when she stepped back and nodded at me. “Thank you, Dad. Really. This is…” She paused to lift the pendant to her line of vision. Then she looked at me again. “… This means a lot.”

“You are very welcome, my dear,” I said. Lydia and John exchanged a quick glance before my eyes found Robin. I nodded with a smile.

Robin smiled back and clasped Delilah’s hand in his. “Come now, let’s make our way to the gate before boarding starts,” he said, addressing the brood around him. I chuckled as he winked at me, then watched with Victor as our family strode away from us, fading from our sight before disappearing altogether.

Victor’s hand reached for mine and our fingers laced together once more. I looked at him, my smile brightening. “I love you, my maestro,” I said.

He nodded, mirroring my grin. “And I love you, my poet.” Our lips touched in a tender kiss and it seemed that everything surrounding us faded for just a moment, long enough for me to see the overarching topography of the world in which I live. It remained little more than background noise even as we waited for our flight to board, and continues to be somewhat muddled in the distance compared to the link I feel with the man sitting beside me on this plane.

There are many things about the future I can guess, some things which time itself will not erode no matter how many years drift past. There are, however, the variables of existence which none of us can foresee and yet, for the first time in my short years, I neither fear, nor dread, the concept of the world shifting while I stand still. As I look out the window beside me, seeing a view of London tease us with the first place we shall encounter in our travels, I cannot help but to be excited for tomorrow.

Change affects us all. And having somebody to walk beside makes all the difference in the world.

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