The Night Man Loves You

Even crime bosses need to be careful around vampires.

When Donna got home from the zoo, the clouds above her threatened and rumbled, but the storm had not truly begun. She hustled her daughter, still pouting about the outing cut short, inside the house she had once shared with her husband.
Inside, it was dark, and emptier than it should have been. Donna went from room to room, turning on the lights. Behind Donna her daughter toddled. The little girl yawned and plopped down on the couch. Donna smiled. Perhaps the afternoon hadn’t been a total waste.
Once the dark had been driven back, Donna carried the child upstairs. They went through the usual night routine. Wash the face. Brush the teeth. Pajamas. Undo her two braids and brush her hair. Finally, Donna tucked her little girl into bed and went to the bookshelf. “Story?” she asked Lily.
Eagerly Lily nodded. “Yes, please!”
Donna smiled. “Which one?”
Lily frowned in concentration, thinking through her choices. “How about The Night Man?”
Donna stifled a sigh. Why that one? “The Night Man it is.”
She pulled out the book and opened it, though she knew it by heart. After all, it had once been hers. Turning to the first page, she read. “It’s ok to be scared of the dark. Just remember, the dark won’t hurt you. The night man owns the dark, and the night man loves you.”
She flipped to the next page. “The night man is very strong and very fast. He has long, sharp fangs, like a cat. The night man owns the dark, and the night man loves you.
Next page. “There are other night men, and night women. The night man commands them all. The night man owns the dark, and the night man loves you.”
Her husband had thought this book was weird. He’d never understood its purpose. Maybe if he had, he’d be alive. “The night man will protect you. In the dark, he is always watching, so he can keep you safe. The night man owns the dark, and the night man loves you.”
When Donna closed the book, her daughter was asleep. She smiled and headed downstairs to clean the kitchen. She’d left a mess there from lunch when she’d taken her daughter to the zoo, and she should clean it up before going to bed herself. Outside, the thunder rolled.
When she entered the kitchen, Donna froze. A trio of men stood in her kitchen. Two were muscular and serious, obviously thugs. One, a smiling man in a suit.
Donna sighed. “Alfonse. To what do I owe the pleasure?”
The smiling man looked her up and down in a decidedly lascivious manner that made Donna feel dirty. “I was in the neighborhood, and I thought I’d check in to see if you’d raised the money to pay off your husband’s debts.”
Donna looked down. “You know I haven’t, Alfonse. I need more time.”
One thug snorted. Alfonse’s smile widened. “Time,” he told her, “Has run out.”
Donna stood there, silently waiting. Alfonse wondered why she was so calm. Surely she knew her position? How helpless she was?
“Fortunately,” he continued, “I am a generous man, and you, my dear, are a very beautiful woman.” He reached out and took her hand. “Marry me, and all your problems go away.”
Donna, still not looking at him, pulled her hand out of his. “My husband died only three months ago,” she told him in a surprisingly neutral tone. She actually sounded more tired than angry.
Alfonse shrugged. “I know. But this is as long as I am willing to wait, beautiful.” His smile turned smug. “You don’t have any other options.”
Donna sighed deeply. “You know my husband didn’t die of natural causes,” she told him.
Alfonse shrugged. “I promise you, dear, it wasn’t my doing.”
“I know,” Donna told him, voice tired. “The thing is, Alfonse, I know who did it, and why.”
She met his gaze, eyes troubled. “I don’t want anyone else to die for me. Not even you.”
Alfonse chuckled. “You don’t have to worry about me, my dear.”
Donna looked away again. “There are things you don’t understand, Alfonse. Things you can’t understand.” She frowned. “Hungry things. Dark things.”
Alfonse frowned, feeling just the slightest bit troubled. “What are you talking about?”
It was then that the lights went out. One of the thugs swore, and thunder made the boards under their feet shake. Alfonse’s hand went to his gun.
When the lights came back on, a male figure stood beside Donna. “She’s talking,” said the figure, “About me.”
Alfonse swore. “For the love of… Shade, how many times have I told you not to do that? One of these days, one of my people will shoot you!”
Shade shrugged unworriedly. “You always did place too much faith in your guns, old friend.” He smiled, baring fangs. “You need to leave.”
Alfonse frowned. “We have a treaty, Shade. You stay out of my business, and I stay out of yours.”
Shade shook his head. “Not anymore.” His red eyes bored into Alfonse’s brown ones. “You broke that treaty when you threatened my daughter.”
Alfonse looked at Donna, startled. “Your daughter?”
Shade inclined his head regally. “Yes. My daughter.” His fanged smile returned. “Leave. Last warning.”
Donna sighed. “Father, please, don’t kill them.”
Shade cocked his head. His eyes were cold. “I left your husband alone for years on your say so, and look how that turned out.”
Donna glared at him. “He only hit me once. Hardly left a bruise.” Her expression turned wistful. “He said he loved me…”
Shade hissed. “You are too forgiving, my daughter. You put up with far too much from that man. I was willing to stay out of it for a while, but one blow was more than I could forgive, even for you.” His gaze turned back to Alfonse. “You’re still here. Why?”
Alfonse glared at him, his hand going back to his gun. “You need me, Shade.”
Shade snorted. “I need you like the wolf needs the shepherd that opens the gate. In the end, though, both are just meat.” Fangs flashed. “You know I can kill you. Destroy your whole organization. I just haven’t bothered.”
Donna looked at Alfonse, and then at Shade. She rolled her eyes. “If you make a mess, Father, clean it up.”
Shade smiled at her, expression fangless and warm. “Of course.” Kissing her on the forehead, he told her, “Go to bed. I’ll sort this out. One way or another.”

When Donna came down to cook breakfast the next morning, the storm was over. She hadn’t heard anything in the night. No gunfire. No screams. But, then, she wouldn’t have either way. Vampires had ways of keeping their secrets.
The kitchen floor was cleaner than it had been yesterday. No grime. No patch of spilled spaghetti sauce by the stove. This didn’t necessarily mean anything. Her father liked to help out when he could. The counters, table, and dishes were also clean.
Donna began to put away the dishes in the strainer. Whatever had happened, Alfonse would leave her alone now, she mused. She’d probably never find out if her father had killed him, or if he still lived.
She didn’t want to know, honestly. It was enough to have her normal life back. Or, at least, as normal as it got, with her father, the vampire king, lurking in the shadows. Finishing the dishes, she debated what to make for breakfast.