The Coven

Asha moved briskly through the dim streets, the cool night air brushing against her skin. Her mind buzzed with thoughts of Lucille—the way she spoke, the way she looked at Asha like she was something worth paying attention to. The idea of being near her again sent a sharp, electric thrill through her, cutting through the usual anxiety that came with hiding herself.

She’d spent too long preparing. Her hair was carefully arranged to cover her ears, her practiced smile concealed the sharp edges of her teeth. A delicate balance—close enough to taste normalcy but always on the edge of exposure.

Then came the familiar sensation. A presence. The weight of a gaze pressing into her back.

Asha didn’t turn around. Instead, she glanced at the glass storefronts lining the street, catching the reflection of a man trailing too closely behind. His posture, the way his eyes locked onto her—it wasn’t curiosity. It was hunger.

Her excitement soured. This is seriously annoying.

She had wanted to focus tonight, to lose herself in Lucille’s presence, to let her mind spiral deeper into whatever this feeling was. Instead, she had to deal with this.

Without hesitation, she turned down an alley, her steps steady, measured. The man followed, just as she expected. The moment his pace quickened, so did hers. A silent game, leading him exactly where she wanted.

The alley dead-ended. She stopped. Turned.

The man grinned, the kind of smirk that spoke of arrogance, of assumption.

“Thought you could give me the slip, sweetheart?” His voice dripped with confidence.

Asha didn’t respond right away. She tilted her head, studying him—not as a threat, but as an obstacle, an inconvenience.

"You really should have picked someone else to stalk tonight."

His smirk wavered.

Then she moved.

Too fast for him to process, closing the space between them in an instant. One hand clamped over his mouth before he could make a sound, and her fangs pierced his throat with practiced precision.

It was over in seconds.

She let his body drop, exhaling slowly, irritation simmering beneath the surface. She wiped the blood from her lips, checking her reflection in the compact mirror she kept for these moments. Clean. Controlled.

One night. Just one fucking night without this.

She stepped over the corpse and back onto the street, slipping seamlessly into the crowd.

The rink’s neon glow cast long, shifting colors across the pavement. Laughter, music, voices—all of it blurred together, except for one.

Lucille stood by the entrance, waving.

Asha’s chest tightened, her breath coming quicker.

She felt it again, that pull, that gravity. It was getting stronger, sinking into her bones. She wanted to be close to Lucille, to watch the way she spoke, the way she moved. She wanted—

No. Needed.

Lucille called out, her eyes bright with something Asha wanted to drown in.

As Asha approached the entrance, her nerves tangled into something sharp and unrelenting. She forced herself to breathe evenly, to stay composed. Don’t overthink. Just focus on Lucille.

Then, she saw them.

Lucille stood at the center of the group, grinning, but it wasn’t just her that caught Asha’s attention—it was all of them.

Antonio, Emilio, Fiona. Dressed in dark clothes, their smiles flashing with fake fangs, plastic pointed ears poking out from beneath their hair.

Vampires.

Asha froze. Her stomach twisted into something cold and unfamiliar.

Lucille must’ve noticed her expression because she stepped forward, rubbing the back of her neck. "Uh… surprise?" She gave a sheepish smile. "I just thought… y'know, if you were a vampire, I didn’t want you to feel weird about it. So… we all kinda went with a theme."

Asha’s fingers curled slightly at her sides. She couldn’t tell if she wanted to laugh or if she wanted to run.

They were trying to make her feel normal.

It was a joke to them, something fun, something harmless. None of them knew what she was. None of them knew how much effort she put into blending in, into keeping herself contained.

But Lucille—Lucille had thought about her. Had considered her.

Asha swallowed, forcing a smirk. “Wow,” she said, letting just enough amusement slip into her voice, “so this is, what? Some kind of vampire solidarity thing?”

Emilio bared his fake fangs at her, wiggling his fingers dramatically. "We welcome you to the coven, young fledgling."

Antonio snorted. "Dude, shut up."

Fiona elbowed both of them before turning back to Asha with an easy grin. "Lucille told us you had a really good costume. Guess we wanted to match the vibe."

Asha’s eyes flickered to Lucille, who was watching her carefully, like she was waiting to gauge her reaction.

Something in Asha's chest pulled. She exhaled, tension bleeding out of her shoulders.

It’s fine. They don’t know. They don’t suspect anything.

She smiled—small, but real. "Well," she said, "I hope you guys are ready to be outskated by a real vampire."

Lucille’s face lit up with excitement. "Oh, you're on."

Asha let herself breathe.

Tonight, she could pretend.

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