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seemed particularly erratic in here. To my eyes, the streaking lights zigzagged even more crazily, sometimes coalescing into bigger shapes. As I scanned the air around us, Fang continued speaking.
     
               “You are a supernatural being, Moon Dance. A supernatural being in the world of mortals. You should be seeing things I could never, ever imagine.”
     
               The squiggly lights in the bar flashed and zigzagged like thousands upon thousands of electrified fireflies. I watched as they whipped crazily around a nearby stairway, a stairway that led up into the black depths. The flashing lights began gathering together, collecting other squiggly lights. I had seen such things before but had dismissed them. They were just strange lights, right? Nothing more.
     
               “Creatures of the night seem to attract each other, Samantha, whether they know it or not...or whether they want it or not. It is not a coincidence that the werewolf came into your life. Soon, I expect others like yourself to make appearances.”
     
               “Like myself?”
     
               “Vampires, Moon Dance. You cannot be an island for long. Not in this world of fantastical creatures.”
     
               I continued studying the glowing object at the foot of the stairway. More light gathered around it. Now, if I looked hard enough, I could see shoulders, hips, and a head forming. Even what appeared to be longish hair. And then, amazingly, the light creature turned toward me. I couldn’t see its features, but I sensed its great pain. And then, buried deep in my mind’s eye, I saw a flash of a knife’s blade, heard a strangled cry, then weeping, and then...nothing.
     
               “I see a ghost,” I said. “There by the stairway.”
     
               I saw Aaron turn out of the corner of my eye. “I don’t see anything, Moon Dance. But I’m not surprised. This is supposedly one of the most haunted buildings in Fullerton.”
     
               And just like that the vaguely humanoid column of light dispersed, scattering into a thousand glowing, fluorescent shards of energy.
     
               Son of a biscuit, I thought, reciting my son’s favorite expression.
     
               After a moment, Aaron Parker looked back at me. “So does it feel strange finally meeting me, Moon Dance?”
     
               “Yes and no. A part of me wants to run back to my computer and continue this conversation there. I felt safe there. I felt open. I felt free to be me.”
     
               “You don’t feel free now?”
     
               “I don’t know how I feel, to be honest.”
     
               “Do I feel a bit like a stranger?” he asked.
     
               I nodded and I felt the tears come to my eyes. “Yes.”
     
               “A stranger who knows your deepest and darkest secrets.”
     
               I nodded, suddenly finding it hard to speak.
     
               He said, “Do you regret meeting me, Moon Dance?”
     
               I sat motionless for a long time before I reached out and took his warm hands in my mine. As I did so, he curled his long fingers around mine. “I don’t know,” I whispered, and it was perhaps the hardest three words I have ever spoken.
     
               He continued holding my hands. Now he rubbed his thumb along my knuckles. His thumb was rough, calloused. He was a grease monkey, no doubt. Tending bar at night, fixing up his classic muscle car during the day.
     
               Fang tilted his head slightly. “ Grease monkey is not a politically correct term, Moon Dance. We prefer to be called lubed primates.”
     
               I snorted. “Sounds like a bad porno.”
     
               “There are no bad pornos, Moon Dance.”
     
               “ Eww , and you just read my thoughts.”
     
               “Yes,”