Not only could Alexander hear the bass of the music as he approached the club, but he could feel the steady heartbeat of each dancer. The vibrations spilled out the open door, past the red velvet rope, over the cold cement sidewalk, and into his centuries old bones. The thrum excited him. Aroused him. Hungered him.

He glanced at himself in the tinted plate-glass windows as he walked past the bouncer and had to suppress a small smile. There were decades when he had wished that the myth about vampires not having reflections was true, but tonight he was glad he could see himself. His shirt hung just right, his chest flat, his shoulders squared. With his chin held high, he was looking on point.

He walked directly to the bar where he knew he'd find a friendly face. "Whiskey, neat," he raised his voice to order a drink from the bartender, a butch woman with an amiable smile.

"Sure thing, Alex," she said, putting a shot-glass on the bar and reaching for a bottle of liquor.

"How's it going, Izzy?" He had to scream over the music.

"Busy night," she answered, waving her hand at the crowd. "Lots of beauties, too." She winked.

"Wish me luck."

"You're always lucky." She shook her head with a laugh before giving her attention to another patron.

Alexander smiled, placing a crisp twenty on the bar before downing his drink in one gulp. He turned toward the DJ and made his way through the sea of sweaty bodies until he arrived on the dance floor. Pressed in on all sides, he surrendered his body to the tide of the crowd.

It didn't take long before he spotted her, skin aglow and brown trellises bathed in pink light. Or maybe he felt her first. A tugging in his gut, as though attracted by a magnetic pull. Her heartbeat. It was fast, pumping fresh blood through her arteries at a swift pace. He could smell her, too. Salty and floral. Immediately he could feel a burning desire course through his own body; his mouth watered.

He pushed and gyrated and sidestepped through the strobing lights until he was dancing right in front of her. The heavy bass of Dua Lipa's Break My Heart propelled his body's motion, and the lyrics seemed to indicate that Izzy was right. He was going to get lucky tonight.

Close up, he could barely contain himself. But he continued to move his body to the music's beat, only allowing his knee to brush against hers, his hand to graze her arm, until she looked up at him and made eye contact. Only once he had caught her in his gaze did he smile, flashing his fangs, and stepped in closer.

Continuing to dance, he pushed against her, tentatively at first, until she invited him in, placing her hands on his shoulders and grinding against him as she swayed her hips. They danced that way for several songs, silently negotiating. Their bodies getting to know each other. His nose nuzzling against her bare shoulder. Her lips grazing his neck, hot breath against his cold skin.

"Can I buy you a drink?" Alexander finally ventured.

"Sure, baby," she said, taking hold of his hand and leading him over to where Izzy stood, busy pouring shots for two men, bronze Greek gods, who impatiently groped at each other.

"What'll you have?" Alexander asked her, leaning in close to her ear, his lips lightly kissing her lobe.

"Cosmo," she answered, her body pressing against his.

A moment later Alexander ordered two drinks. Izzy served them with a knowing smile.

"There's a booth over here. Let's sit," Alexander suggested, his hand placed on the small of her back, steering her where he wanted her to go. "What's your name, by the way?"

"Shirley."

"Surely, I'm glad to have made your acquaintance." He smiled impishly, and she rolled her eyes. "I'm Alexander," he said, emphasizing the last two syllables. The ones that made his name distinctively male. "I've never seen you here before. Are you... new?"

"New to what?" she asked coyly, sliding to the end of the booth and taking a sip from her drink.

"New to the area?" He ventured. He'd been coming to this club for years. Decades. He'd been here since before the glass windows had gone up, back when people like him had to live in the shadows, always fearful of cop raids. He knew which stools squeaked, what booths had rips in the vinyl, and where Izzy kept a few bags of blood to keep him satiated on slow nights.

"No, I've lived here since my college days. You, baby?" She leaned in as she spoke, the vibrations of her voice mixing with the beat of the music, and tickling at his sensitive ears. It excited him, causing him to salivate.

"Then how come I don't recall ever seeing you before? I know I'd remember you. You're quite unforgettable." He asked, sidestepping her question. He'd been on the west coast for nearly a century, but humans could be strange about time and age. This young thing in front of him couldn't be over thirty. Older than some jailbait who snuck past the bouncer with their fake IDs, but still merely a child compared to his everlasting life.

"Well, I..." she hesitated and brought the wide-rimmed martini glass to her full lips. Alexander could detect a change in her heart's rhythm and knew she was deciding whether to lie. Didn't humans know it was nearly impossible to lie to a vampire? "To be honest, I just got out of a long-term relationship. So, you know." She shrugged.

Those words hit him like a wooden stake through the heart, but he suppressed his grimace by taking a sip from his drink. The taste of whiskey reminding him of earlier days. He'd known an Irish girl with a distiller father during his time traveling up and down the east coast in the late 1790s. The dark woody burn always ignited his lust and quelled his heart.

"I appreciate honesty," Alexander made his voice smooth as honey. "And I certainly understand wanting to get out and have some fun after a time of being... tied down." As he spoke, he adjusted his arm, first brushing his forearm against hers, and then caressing her wrist with the tips of his fingers.

She bit her bottom lip as she took a deep breath. Her eyebrows flickered. "I did miss having fun."

"You are a wonderful dancer."

"You're not too bad yourself, baby."

Alexander continued to press against her, "I can certainly help you forget your troubles and show you a good time."

"I'd like that." Her words came out in a breathy whisper, and he only caught them among the sounds of the club because of his perfect hearing.

Alexander licked his lips; his fangs practically throbbed with need. He moved his hand under the table, placing it on her knee and sliding it up her thigh. Her body shivered with anticipation as he closed the distance between their two wanting mouths.

His lips brushed against hers, and she turned her head slightly, opening her mouth, inhaling his breath. But as he pressed deeper, he heard a low growl behind him. Before his supernatural reflexes could react, he was being yanked back roughly by the collar of his shirt.

Landing on the sticky floor, the crowd parted, gawking. Alexander looked up to see a short, but thickly muscled figure with close-cropped hair and a lip ring staring down at him with red glowing eyes. A damned werewolf.

"Zach, what are you doing? I told you we were through!" Shirly was standing on the booth's seat, her back against the wall, her arms hugging at her chest. The demure posture hardly matched the venom in her voice.

"A vamp?" Zach snarled, sputum forming at the corner of his lips. "What are you playing at, Shirley?" he addressed his ex without turning his gaze.

"I'm not playing at anything," she protested.

Alexander tentatively propped himself on his elbows and was grateful to see Rick, the bouncer, walking over.

"Break it up," Rick bellowed, placing a firm hand on the werewolf's back. "You're going to need to leave the premises."

"Don't touch me." Zach whipped around. "I was just leaving." He gave one last simmering glare to Shirley, and then he huffed away towards the front doors and out into the night air.

As soon as Zach disappeared, the crowd lost their interest. Conversations re-started and the space around Alexander filled in.

Shirley jumped down and ran over to Alexander, who was standing and wiping his grimy hands on his dark denim jeans. "I'm so sorry about that," she pleaded, tentatively touching his shoulder.

"Don't worry about it," Alexander said without meeting her eyes. "It happens."

"The breakup is new, but trust me, it's permanent."

"Yeah, I get it." Alex scanned the top of the crowd, not giving her his attention.

"You think we could..."

"Not tonight, Shirley. But maybe another time." And then Alexander turned and walked away towards the club's rear exit, ready to forget the whole thing.