I just wiggled myself into jeans. Something I’m not used to because I don’t usually wear pants, unless they’re pajamas. But Darcy got her first motorcycle and wants to take me for a ride on it. So tonight it’s black jeans, black bomber jacket, black boots, and no helmet. She should be here any minute. I’ll pick this up in a few hours, assuming I come home tonight.

  I’m back. It’s still tonight. Riding on motorcycles is pretty exciting. I really like the rush of air across my face.

  Darcy got a Suzuki GSX-S1000GT whatever all that means. It’s this dark metallic blue. It’s really pretty. She had a new skin-tight biker jacket that didn’t hide the fact that she has really good boobs. For just getting the bike, she already drives it really fast. We zipped down Mulholland in no time.

  She got on the freeway and we raced through stop-and-go traffic. We both started laughing wildly, as we flew between rows of cars, brake lights in our eyes. Suddenly, I sensed we were being chased. I turned around, and through the mess of my hair, I saw the headlight of another motorcycle coming up quick, in its own channel between the cars, one lane to our right. I tapped Darcy on the back and she glanced back and saw we were being pursued by someone as reckless as we were. I leaned forward, wrapped my arms around her waist and, as dangerous as it was, she went even faster. All it would take is an unexpected lane change from a car and we’d be unseated and go sailing through the air. LOL. The other bike picked up its speed too and was actually gaining. Though still one channel over, it came close enough that I saw its driver wasn’t wearing a helmet either, and the girl holding on behind him had long strawberry blonde hair whipping in the wind. They wore big smiles. It was Hisato and Grace. I communicated this to Darcy telepathically, but she said she already knew by the sound of his bike.

  Up ahead there was the smallest gap between cars. It was risky, but Darcy quickly went right and slid through the lane into the next channel between cars, cutting off Hisato. In turn, at the next break in cars, Hisato went left, sliding back into our original channel between cars and made a run for it. He edged ahead. We edged ahead. Quite recklessly, we weaved in and out of lanes trying to cut each other off. Soon enough there were blue and red lights flashing behind us. A Highway Patrol car was chasing us on the shoulder. I was wondering what Darcy or Hisato would do. Would they pull over or keep going and outrun him? With the congested traffic and him being in an car, I thought our chances of getting away were really good, but to my surprise, Hisato slid once more to the right, getting in front of us, and then slowed his speed, and we slowed behind him, and then we all moved into the right lane and then onto the shoulder and stopped. The patrol car was quickly behind us. They shut their motors off and we four vampires climbed off the bikes, Darcy and Hisato doing the kickstand thing, and we stood there on the side of the freeway with the lights flashing in our faces, waiting for the officer to get out of his car and approach. Many of the passing cars honked and their passengers rubbernecked to look at us. We had obviously attracted a lot of attention. There were a few middle fingers directed at us. The four of us looked at each other. “At least I’ll go to kids jail,” I said, and we all burst out laughing.

  The cop didn’t look as amused. I was expecting he’d give us the run down: “Do you know how fast you were going? Have you been drinking tonight? Do you know there’s a helmet law in California? Have you ever heard of reckless driving?” Blah blah blah. But the first thing he actually said was, “Let’s see some IDs.”

  This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

  “You don’t need to see our identification,” Hisato answered. And then with a big shit eating grin on his face, he continued, “These aren’t the droids you’re looking for.”

  “This is far from funny. As far as I’m concerned, with the exception of the minor, you’re all in a heap of trouble.”

  “But I wanna be in a heap of trouble too!” I shouted, and we continued laughing.

  “You keep it up and you will be, little lady.”

  “That’s better, officer.”

  “Come on, let’s have ‘em. IDs out, now!”

  “Who brings their purse on the back of a motorcycle?”

  “I don’t even have an ID anymore.”

  “I never even got one.”

  “IDs are for narcissists. ‘Look at me! Look at me!’”

  “You are a narcissist, Dummy Bear.”

  “Well yeah, but at least I don’t need an ID to prove it.”

  “You’re all just making this harder on yourselves.”

  “Hey, Blue Lives Matter, we can show you some fake IDs in a few hours, if you really need to see something.”

  “I’ll need to redo my hair first if there’s going to be pictures.”

  “You sound like the one we left at home.”

  “What’s the shortest you can be for a mugshot?”

  “So there are going to be pictures. Officer, I’m going to need some lipstick.”

  He started talking into his little shoulder speaker thing.

  “Hey wait, there’s daylight in jail, isn’t there?”

  “She’s right! You’re so smart, Orly! Prison would be very bad for our complexions!”

  “A life sentence would be pretty fucked up too.”

  “Here’s looking at you kid, I mean, Your Highness. Yo! Ponch! Over here, look at me. Yeah, so we all agreed we can’t go to jail with you anymore, so you should just get back in your car and go chase other bad guys, you know, round up the usual suspects for fix it tickets, that sorta thing.”

  He turned and headed back to his patrol car.

  “Aww, look at him go, dragging his feet. Poor thing is Mr. Downy Dumps.”

  “I should’ve told him, ‘We’ll always have Paris.’”

  “That’s over the top. I don’t feel bad he feels bad. I’ll bet he wanted to arrest us. What kind of person gets off on arresting somebody?”

  “Sounds like we’re in for some handcuff play tonight!”

  “Ooh, I want the pink ones!”

  “I’m still here you know. I don’t really need to know about this.”

  “Ride with me.”

  And so I climbed on the back of Hisato’s bike and we took off, still riding between the lanes of traffic, but not driving all crazy this time. We spoke telepathically.

  Heard you went on a date.

  Two.

  With Mr. Rendezvous?

  Oui.

  Will there be a third date?

  I hope so.

  I don’t like it.

  Why not?

  No one deserves you, Orly. Not in my eyes. Especially not some mortal.

  But don’t I deserve love?

  You think that’s going to keep you happy? Love changes, sweets. The romantic shit especially. It always dulls. So don’t get hung up on any one person. That was Yelena’s problem. It’s why she spent years crying over Marcel.

  That’s because it never dulled for her like you say it will.

  Had Marcel lived, eventually it would’ve. Him dying is what kept him alive so long.

  I don’t know if I agree.

  I love Yelena, but she wasn’t well.

  I think I might be like her. More like her than like you at least.

  Look, I’m just saying, love people all you want, but love yourself more. Don’t let this wannabe vampire of yours make you lose sight of yourself by becoming your focus. I’ve never made anyone my focus, other than myself.

  Isn’t that a little self-centered?

  It’s a lot self-centered. And whose happier than me?

  Are you happy though? For reals? Deep down?

  I’m as happy as you can be with an eternity.

  I held onto him tighter as we drove along but thought to myself that maybe our happinesses are different.

  Someone’s home. Obviously that means Rosanna, but somebody’s with her. It’s a man’s voice.

  More later.

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