resonance: (n.) the tendency of a system to oscillate at maximum amplitude at certain frequencies

“This is a nice place. Don’t you think?”

I licked my lips, carefully surveying the Manhattan apartment. It was empty at the moment, the bright sun spilling in through windows onto the wood floor. A small kitchen branched off of the living room.

There were two bedrooms down the miniscule hallway, neither of which was very big, but they served their purpose. Next to one of the bedroom doors was a linen closet, and at the end of the hallway was the bathroom.

It was certainly better than I’d expected. My aunt and uncle agreed to part of each month’s rent, far too eager to get me out of the house. And I was glad to leave. So glad, in fact, that I chose one of the furthest possible states to move to: New York.

“It’s nice,” I said at last.

Suddenly the door to the apartment opened wider, and the movers entered, wheeling in mine and Kimmy’s boxes on hand trucks. We pointed to where we wanted specific things to go, excited to be on our own at last. When the movers were finished helping us with the furniture, they left, leaving us to unpack.

“I have a cousin here,” Kimmy said loudly from across the tiny hall. “He’s really nice. His name is Will. I told him to meet up with us tonight. What do you think?”

I sighed. I knew what she wanted, but I wasn’t ready for that.

“Sorry, I can’t. I have...I have to go meet the supervisor of the library I’m going to be working at. You know we’re going to need all the money we can get while we’re here.”

She poked her head into my room. “Fine. I’ll work on a job, too. But try to have some fun, okay? That’s why we both took a year off. To...lighten up.” Her smile faltered. “Nicole... I hate seeing you alone.”

I forced a smile. It might have ended up as a grimace, but I really tried. “Don’t worry about me. I don’t mind being single as much as you do.”

Kimmy leaned her head against the doorframe. “You haven’t even looked at any guy besides Jimmy and Greg in over a year.”

“Dating isn’t the right thing for me right now.”

She watched me for a few more moments before going back to her own room. I swallowed the lump that had been forming in my throat, grabbing several hangers to hang my clothes in the closet. It took a while to breathe steadily again.

I looked out the window. The apartment was on the fifth floor and faced the busy street. I couldn’t remember why I’d wanted to come here in the first place. To get away, yes—to get away from my family and the things that had happened in that town. But surely that hadn’t been my only basis for leaving. There had to have been something else.

Manhattan. Of all the places. It was a ridiculously busy city. He didn’t know why this had been important to him. He didn’t know how he’d been so lucky as to capture Dominik’s interest in the city with a few pictures and a brief trip here. But he had, and that was what mattered.

Vincent was gradually becoming accustomed to the change from the simple life in a snowy Hungarian forest to a hurried life in a busy American city. But he’d needed this, hadn’t he? He needed to be close enough to be able to check in on her when he wanted to see her. California was a mere hour away, with his vampiric speed and ability to fly.

Dominik knew why New York had appealed to Vincent. He knew, and he’d flash his fanged smirk at him whenever Vincent said he’d be back the next night. The whole coven knew, in fact, that his trips were to see her.

But something was different now. He’d learned it from his last visit, the night she graduated from high school. The ceremony took place at eight o’clock on a warm June night at a convention center in their small town. He watched her retrieve her diploma with a sad smile—no doubt wishing a certain someone was still alive to be there, too—and take her place among the other students.

And then they all went to mingle and give their tearful goodbyes, saying they’d meet up halfway between their colleges. But he didn’t care what they were saying; he was listening to what Nikolett was saying to her redheaded friend. They were moving together—to Manhattan.

From a dark alley, he could see her now. She was leaving the apartment building and trying to hail a cab—unsuccessfully. She finally gave up and started walking. When she walked past the alley where he was, he could smell her.

He hadn’t been that close to her in over a year—not since he’d kissed her and tried to burn her alive.

“It’s really great that you’re here. Telephone interviews are just so impersonal. I thought I’d have to wait until the first day you started working for me to see you. I’m Adrianna,” said the woman, holding out her hand for me to shake.

“Nice to meet you,” I replied.

Adrianna was a Hispanic woman in her late twenties with long hair confined to a ponytail and sharp hazel eyes. Like my Hungarian accent, Adrianna’s Spanish accent was so faint, very few probably noticed it—the result of spending the majority of her life in the U.S. The desk behind the woman was neat, with a newspaper closed in the middle, a pencil holder at the corner, and a thick book off to the side, a silky bookmark protruding from between the pages.

“Well, let me introduce you to the staff,” said my new boss, leading me toward where several computers sat in a row, the majority of which were occupied. There was a small desk behind them, at which an older man sat reading. “This is Earnest. Earnest, this is—Nikki, was it?”

“Nicole,” I corrected.

The supervisor continued to introduce me to the three other people that were there to work the night shift. I was informed that I would work from 11 a.m. to 7 p.m., Monday through Friday. The pay was 8.50 per hour, which wasn’t bad at all, compared New York’s minimum wage standards.

“Feel free to hang around,” said Adrianna. “I know you don’t start until next Monday, but maybe you could check out a book or something.”

I smiled and headed off in the direction of the bookcases. There was a section for everything from erotica fiction to children’s nonfiction to nonfiction murder mysteries. I went to the latter, out of morbid curiosity.

I thought of my “family” in California, how they’d been so anxious to see me go. Only Greg and Jimmy had seen me and Kimmy off at the airport. But that was alright. I wouldn’t miss the others much either. Besides the two guys, I wouldn’t miss anyone there. I was glad to say Good Riddance to memories and old classmates.

The mansion, too. I shuddered when the mental picture came to my mind. Over the past year, I’d been going back there. I just stood in front of it, staring at the scorched remains, gazing up at the window of the room—the room Vincent had locked me in.

I could have died. I should have died, like Ilona did. Exactly like Ilona did. But me and Kimmy both got out alive through sheer luck. Just me and Kimmy. Not the third person who had been killed there.

My eyes glazed over as I looked at the books. I wondered if he blamed me for what happened. I wondered if he knew how much I cared about him and how sorry I was. He was all I could think about at graduation. Well, him and one other—but the other didn’t matter. I refused to think about him anymore.

I refocused my gaze on the titles. They were dusty, as if no one solicited this particular aisle often. Unexplained Deaths and Disappearances in Hungary. I furrowed my brows and retrieved the book from the shelf. The cover was plain and dark green. Underneath the title and the author’s name was a quote from the national anthem. “Isten, áldd meg a magyart”; “God, bless the Hungarians.”

I flipped through the pages, hoping the catch a glimpse of my mother’s or father’s name. I released a sigh and decided to check the book out. The book covered disappearances and deaths from 1500 to 2000; there was a chance Ilona and Andris Szalai would be in it.

“Huh,” said Adrianna, scanning the book at the front desk. “You’re the first one to check this book out of the library. Tell me how it is, will you? Spooky or dull.”

I smiled and left, heading back to the apartment. I could predict what Kimmy would do when she saw the book. She would look at me sympathetically and try to get me to go out. I would say no, and she would sigh and leave me alone to wallow in my misery. She would go look at her pictures of Craig, of Halloween when we were little kids, dressed ironically as vampires.

Halfway down the sidewalk, I stopped. There was someone looking at me from across the street. I tried to ignore it at first, but it soon became clear they really were looking at me. Feeling nervous, I decided I didn’t want to lead the creep back to the apartment, so I went into a warm, busy coffee shop and ordered a latte. When I came back out, no one was watching.

“I can smell her.”

Vincent ignored the comment and closed the door of the loft behind him. Housing had initially been a problem for the vampires in the city. However, it was soon solved by these large suites in a nice hotel. The whole top floor, and half of the one below it, was inhabited by vampires.

“I thought I was imagining it,” continued Doru, following Vincent to the living room of the loft. “But I followed the scent, and sure enough it led to your precious mortal. What a coincidence. You didn’t give her the idea to move to Manhattan, did you, Vincent?”

The amused smirk on his face told Vincent he was only trying to irritate him. “It’s a sick coincidence. That’s all.”

Doru’s grin broadened. “Don’t you want to know where I saw her? She has a job. I saw her leaving. She nearly saw me, too.”

Vincent cast him an apathetic look. “That’s dangerous, you know.”

“Oh, you’re going to teach me about dangerous, are you? That’s funny. That’s really funny. Dominik could have killed you for letting her live, and no one would have had anything to say in your defense.”

“Be more careful. That’s all I’m saying.” He stood and walked down the hall to one of the rooms, where several coffins lay in a row on the floor. Vincent’s lay between Doru’s and Anton’s.

Doru followed Vincent, who just stood staring at the death boxes. “Don’t worry. She didn’t see me. I think she just got a little scared, because she went into a café when she looked my way. Anyway, she works at the library. Two blocks away from here. What are the chances? Now you don’t have to fly thousands of miles just to look at her.”

Vincent didn’t try to deny it. Doru wouldn’t believe a lie, anyway. He could read minds as easily as Dominik could. But he wasn’t going to play this game. He would not humor Doru’s questions with confessions of what he was really thinking. Instead, he closed his mind tightly and remained silent.

“I have to wonder,” said Doru, “what she’s doing here. Are you certain you haven’t spoken to her?”

Not looking away from the coffins on the floor, Vincent said blankly, “I haven’t said a word to her since we tried to kill her.”

Doru nodded and folded his arms. “Well, maybe she’ll look past that and let you sink your fangs into her neck again. She’s nearly eighteen now, almost an adult,” he said in mock sympathy. It amused him to see Vincent shift irritably.

“Is there something you needed?” Vincent snapped, his patience evaporated at that point.

“No, not really,” said Doru. “I was just wondering. When are you going to go see her?”