Page 7 of Alaska Lights

I stare at myself in the mirror, brushing my messy shoulder-length dark brown hair. It probably needs to be cut along with a beard trim, but I don’t give a fuck. I have no one to look good for. Why bother?

Dark circles are faint under my eyes, showing the beginning stages of death. A faint red hues my irises. I squeeze my eyes shut, shake my head, and open them again to get my brown eyes to return to normal.

It’s no use.

The slight reddish tone doesn’t vanish like I hoped it would. I usually have control of my vampiric abilities. I can conjure the crimson vision whenever I want.

I guess when the body is breaking down, what I can control is no longer up to me.

Not wanting to see the changes overcoming me, I flip off the light and brush my fangs. My eyes immediately stop burning, and the relief is welcome.

When I’m done doing my business, I throw on my favorite pair of black jeans, a shirt to match, and my long black trench coat I’ll grab when we head out the door.

My boots hit the hardwood floors with a steady beat as I make my way to the kitchen. The only light on is the one above the sink, providing a dim glow. The powerful scent of coffee hits me, the aroma helping me wake up.

If there’s one thing I’ll miss when I’m dead, it’s coffee.

“Morning, Alaska.”

I grunt in response, opening the cabinet to grab a mug.

“How are you feeling, Old Man?”

I hear the worry in his tone as he tries to make light of the situation by calling me old. I appreciate it.

“I’m fine, Soren. No need to worry about me.” Next to the coffee pot is a small dish with freeze-dried blood that’s been turned to powder. It’s like creamer, but better.

I scoop two heaping spoonfuls of blood and stir it into my coffee, bringing the mug to my lips for the first sip.

Fuck. If it were possible, coffee could heal my soul.

“Easy for you to say. You’re hurting today, aren’t you? I can see it in how you’re walking.”

I sigh, my exhale blowing the steam from the hot liquid. “It isn’t my body that’s bothering me today. It’s my eyes. The lights feel brighter today.” I lock gazes with him and point. “See?”

He places his mug on the counter with a hard thud, and he grips my chin to get a better look.

I grumble in displeasure. I don’t like being grabbed. Yanking my chin out of his hand, I snarl in warning.

“You can sneer and growl at me all you want, Al. You can’t get the red to go away?”

I shake my head. “No, and it’s making me sensitive to light. I’m fine, Soren. It will go away just like the dizziness did.”

“Dizziness?” He raises his voice.

Coffee nearly spews from between my lips. “Shhh. Don’t wake Glenn. You know about the dizziness. Stop acting like it’s brand new.”

“It’s becoming more frequent. If you need me to take on more work, I will. You need your rest.”

“I don’t need rest!” I shout, knowing damn good and well Glenn heard me.

I don’t give a fuck.

“I’m going to do what I can until I die. That doesn’t mean resting in a bed. I nearly died like that once. I’m not doing it again, Soren.”

He blows out a breath and leans against the counter, snagging his mug. “Fine, but stop feeling like you’re in this alone. You aren’t dying alone and you sure as fuck didn’t live alone, so stop trying to push us away during these last few months.”

“I’ll do what I want.” The chair drags against the floor when I pull it from the table, adding to the scratch marks I’ve made over the years.