Breath puffed against his neck. It was barely a whisper, simply a soft flutter of air that could have been ignored or mistaken for the gentle breeze stirring the curtains of his bedroom window, but Jeremy knew it wasn't. The fine hair of his arms rose as goosebumps spread along his skin. He closed his eyes to whisper, 'You're here aren't you?'
There was no answer except for the light brush of lips below his hairline. Kisses trailed slowly down his spine, lingering briefly over the dusting of freckles between his shoulder blades. He moaned softly and reached back, but like so many times before, his fingers met only empty air.
The soft kisses continued their downward path and a shiver vibrated through the length of his body. He exhaled a shaky breath. 'When can I see you?' he began to murmur, only to cut short when the familiar tongue dipped below the hollow of his lower back. His fingers tortured the fine cotton of his sheet and he pleaded, 'Tell me please. When can I see you? When can I touch you?'
Jeremy woke with a start.
His heart raced in rhythm with his shallow breaths while he tried to anchor disoriented thoughts. The dimly lit room didn't house his beloved books or treasured mementoes, and his computer didn't blink its presence from the chaos of his desk. In their place were sterile pastel "artworks" and a phone that sported too many buttons to be functional. He sat up and rubbed his tired eyes. The reality of the hotel room gradually forced its way through the remnants of his dream. It wasn't welcome.
The chill of the air conditioner stung his sweat-beaded skin, but still he kicked off the crumpled sheet and walked to the window. Glass filled the expanse of the wall with no means to actually open. The fresh night air of home was far away and how much he missed it frightened him.
He rested his forehead against the cold glass and he stared at the concrete surfaces far below.
An airport shuttle spilled passengers arriving for a chance to sleep before early morning flights - one step closer to their final destinations.
'Final destination? Is that where I'm going?' he muttered to the empty room. 'Will we be together then?'
Jeremy's palm pressed against the unforgiving glass while his other hand absently caressed his needy flesh. He'd asked the same questions many times in his dreams, never getting an answer, but watching the lights of a plane disappear into the distance he heard a single word.
Soon.
Another flight, shorter this time, but Jeremy still blamed his foggy thoughts on jet lag. He glanced around the terminal, searching for eyes he'd not yet seen, or lips he'd only felt. Gazes met his for an instant. No recognition or even interest. They quickly returned to checking luggage tags or staring at the silent television screen. People generally wore the same expression in airports - anticipation blurred with weariness, each in their own bubble of personal space. But still he looked. From one to another he looked, searching for any hint of familiarity. A young man smiled, but those weren't the lips that brushed his skin in the dead of night. He smiled back, an obligatory smile that said little more than, I see you and acknowledge you.
Bright sunshine broke through the clouds to stream into the concourse and Jeremy understood. The time was not right.
Plastic beads sparkled their green, purple and gold from a souvenir shop, ready to adorn the necks of tourists, but he walked past them with little more than a glance. That wasn't why he'd made his journey to New Orleans.
With no luggage to collect, Jeremy was the first to reach the shuttle bay. He smiled tiredly at the driver who took his voucher and he huddled in a seat near the rear of the bus. Jeremy had never been to the French Quarter - in fact he'd had never left Australia until he boarded his flight at Tullamarine - but he watched the passing buildings with a growing sense of home. The anxious knot in his stomach was replaced with a totally different sensation.
The shuttle bus wove through narrow streets, past shopfronts both elegant and tacky, until it reached his hotel. A uniformed doorman stepped forward to take his luggage, but he shook his head. The contents of his cabin bag were all he carried.
The old world elegance of the lobby spoke of a different time. Jeremy heard the swish of petticoats and skirts whisper somewhere in the recesses of his mind. Gilt-edged mirrors hinted at reflections of men in frock coats and tall hats. But they all vanished when the doe-eyed boy at reception asked if he was checking in. Jeremy fumbled through an answer and handed over a printout with his booking details. The boy smiled and politely asked about his holiday plans. A reasonable enough question, but how could he explain that he'd just quit his job and flown from his home in Melbourne to meet a man who'd been visiting his dreams in one way or another for as long as he could remember? Jeremy simply smiled back and gave the standard tourist answers that instantly satisfied the boy's dutiful interest. Jeremy heard only half the spiel about room keys, guided tours and complimentary breakfasts, but thanked him anyway and followed his directions to the elevators.
An elderly couple with matching oversized suitcases waited patiently, listening to the rattles and clanks descend to the lobby. 'Do you think it'll make it up to our floor with everything you packed?' the man teased, only to receive a good-natured slap on his hand.
'It's true,' she said to Jeremy. 'I did overpack. This is our first big trip and I didn't know what to bring.'
'So she brought her whole wardrobe,' her husband added.
The elevator announced its arrival with a shudder and a ding. They bundled into the tiny space and smiled apologetically at another couple who would have to wait for the next one.
'What floor?' the man asked.
Jeremy looked at the already illuminated button and replied, 'Same as yours.'
'Ah, I thought you were another Aussie. I'm Pam and this is Bill. We're from Myrtleford, what about you?'
'Nice to meet you. I'm Jeremy and I'm from Frankston,' he answered and glanced at the floor number display, willing the elevator to go faster.
'Oh, we used to drive through Frankston on the way to Rosebud, although we never actually stopped there. When the kids were little we'd haul the old caravan down to the foreshore. Actually, Myrtleford was our other caravan spot until we decided to retire there.'
Pam rattled on as much as the elevator until the doors mercifully opened. They bid each other farewell and walked in opposite directions. Jeremy could still hear her chatter when he slipped his key-card in the lock and disappeared behind his door.
The room was silent other than the steady hum of the air conditioner. Heavy wooden furniture dominated his vision. A tall ornate wardrobe stood sentinel between two small windows that looked down on Bourbon Street. Quiet now, but that would change when the tourists hit the bars to consume their Hurricanes and Huge Ass Beers, wearing their plastic beads, alerting everyone that they weren't locals. But Bourbon could relish in its tacky delights until the sun rose and the bars closed - Jeremy would not be part of them.
It was so tempting to dump his bag and flop on the bed in the hope that sleep would lead to dreams, but Jeremy knew that he slept too. He sat on the edge of the mattress and sighed. 'Soon,' he whispered into the solitude of his hotel room, only to be wrapped in the comfort of a familiar scent.
He'd known the visitor his entire life - well, at least as far back as he could recall the details of his dreams. Even as a small child the invisible man, as he called him then, was part of his dreams. Not in a frightening predatory way, but simply there watching and waiting from a distance. Little Jeremy would explore his childlike dreamscapes and smile happily in the direction of the unseen man, safe in the knowledge that nightmares would always be chased away. It wasn't until Jeremy reached manhood that the nature of the dreams changed and he felt the soft touches. Gentle and tentative at first, but they became so much more when Jeremy invited the hands and lips onto his skin, and when sated he slept peacefully with the presence settled lovingly at his back.
As far as his parents knew, the invisible man faded along with childhood. Jeremy kept him close and kept him secret. But still his mother worried about him. He was always a little out of step with the rest of their world. Not really connecting with those around him, even though she encouraged her other sons to involve him in all their games. Jeremy didn't join the local football team and informed her that he didn't see the point of running from one end of the track to the other at Little Athletics. 'Why is it good to run faster than the other kids?' he'd asked, and he meant it.
High school was no better. He rarely dated and the few dates he had were never repeated. So she'd stopped encouraging him to go out and left him with his books. 'It'll be better when you're out in the workforce mixing with different people,' she'd consoled him.
It wasn't. He also wasn't happy. So when her middle child announced he was leaving them to travel to New Orleans, she didn't question it, but hugged her son tightly and quietly told him that she hoped he'd find what he was looking for.
Jeremy sat on the edge of the bed and smiled. 'I hope so too, Mum.'
He spent lunch in a cafe by the river, like every good tourist should. He sipped his drink and swirled the straw to watch the ice spin, but the icing-sugar smothered beignet remained untouched. A passing waitress stopped and asked if everything was all right with his food and Jeremy assured her everything was fine; he was just a little jetlagged and his appetite was still on Melbourne time. In truth, his stomach churned with the seemingly endless wait for nightfall.
Jeremy sat for a while longer then texted each of his brothers in turn. He called his mum to let her know he'd arrived safely and was the happiest he'd been for a long time. It wasn't a lie. He left a generous tip and spent the remainder of the day wandering the streets of the French Quarter, sampling both the historic and lurid elements of the area, all the while waiting impatiently for the sun to set.
As if on cue, the neon lights of the bars and clubs sparked into life. The Quarter took on an entirely different aspect. Jeremy made his way along the street, watching the natural light fade along with the day. Night came slowly. His fingertips tingled in anticipation as the sky darkened and tiny pinpricks of stars appeared through gaps in the cloud cover. He stopped walking and stood beneath an illuminated streetlamp amid the bustle of a busy corner. It struck him for the first time that he didn't know where he needed to be.
You will find me.
The voice echoed through his mind and caught him off guard. He searched the faces around him, but none felt right.
'Hello again.'
A hand settled on his shoulder and his heart all but burst through his chest.
'It's just us,' Bill said.
'We thought it was you. Did you have a nap? We went out like a light for a couple of hours. It was wonderful to be able to stretch out after those airplane seats. What's your room like? Ours is lovely, although I contacted house-keeping to bring up some extra teabags.'
Further questions were thrown at him, but Jeremy quickly realised there were no gaps in the torrent of words so simply smiled and nodded.
'We're off to do a ghost and vampire walking tour,' Bill interjected.
'Ooh yes, come with us.'
Jeremy looked around for an escape, but Pam's arm was already linked in his and they turned the corner into Pirate Alley.
A sandwich board surround by a small group of people promised that the terrifying secrets of paranormal New Orleans would be revealed - all in the span of two hours. A tall man in fine undertaker garb took Pam and Bill's tickets then stood expectantly in front of Jeremy. 'Are you joining us tonight, Sir?' he asked with appropriate gravitas and leaned forward.
It was only Pam's grip on his arm that stopped Jeremy taking a step back. 'Ah no, I umm just walked my friends here.'
'Are you sure you don't need to hear about the ghosts and vampires that inhabit this city?' He waved his hand with a grand flourish, but did not break eye contact.
Jeremy squirmed - not visibly, but something in the recesses of his mind ran fingernails down a phantom chalkboard.
'Only two hours to walk the Quarter and learn some of its mysteries.'
'I can't,' Jeremy said quickly. 'Two hours is too long. I have to be somewhere.'
'Have to be somewhere to meet someone?'
Jeremy's skin crawled, but the man laughed and gave him a low bow of release.
'It's all right honey,' Pam said quietly. 'You go and have fun with people your own age.'
She patted his hand and slid her arm from his.
Jeremy gave rapid-fire goodbyes and walked purposefully away from the well meaning couple.
The jazz horn of a busker announced his arrival at Jackson Square, but he continued down the alley to-
He'll tell me.
Christ met him when he rounded the corner of the cathedral or at least the towering shadow of a spot lit statue. It stopped him in his tracks, but he smiled and whispered to the outstretched arms, 'I have somewhere I need to be.'
Despite the early hour, Bourbon Street could be heard long before it was seen, with its raucous mix of boozed-up tourists and the steady thump of music from the bars that spilled them onto the street. Jeremy stood on the corner to look along the street at the turbulent mass of tourists and the party-minded; he was no more one of them than the men he'd shared fumbled and ultimately unsatisfying encounters with at home.
A woman approached him wearing an appropriate "I got Bourbon faced on Shit Street" T-shirt. She might have been attractive if she hadn't started her binge so early. Jeremy dodged her and backed away from the crowded crossroad.
'Not here,' he muttered and shook his head. 'Not here.'
He turned, looked down another street only to turn back again.
'Which way?' he pleaded, but his question was drowned in the blast of a car horn as the driver bravely - or foolishly - attempted to push through the intersection.
Jeremy closed his eyes against the threat of tears and leaned against the solid brick wall of a bar.
How do I do this?
The throb of music and laughter inhabited the old bricks. It pulsed through his body until there was no room left for conscious thought.
That was when Jeremy heard him.
Away from them ... find peace ... find me.
'I can hear you,' Jeremy muttered 'I'll find you.' He pushed his way through the growing throng of Bourbon Street with renewed determination and disappeared down a side alley.
Jeremy wound his way through a maze of streets, turning this way and that, following an inbuilt compass. Suddenly, he stopped. The street he'd entered was little more than a laneway; there were lamps to light his way through the curling shadows of wrought iron and hidden doorways, but lights were no longer needed.
Jeremy stood very still.
All sound disappeared.
The humid air weighed heavily on his shoulders.
'I'm here,' he said and flinched. His voice rebounded louder than any Bourbon band, and the alley answered it. The uneven cobbles shifted beneath his feet and the lampposts swayed in time to silent music. He staggered and hit a vine-strewn wall, but still the world around him defied logic. Jeremy closed his eyes. His equilibrium returned, but his mind's eye witnessed the vibrant green tendrils of the vines weave their way across his body. He didn't fight them. Tender shoots gently caressed his neck and unfurled pendulous white flowers. His lungs filled with their sweet scent and he sank back into the green mantle.
The hum of a familiar tune echoed through his thoughts and he opened his eyes.
'He's here, isn't he?' he asked a fat ginger cat that sat with lazy indifference from a balcony across the narrow alley. A flick of its tail was the only answer.
Jeremy smiled and stretched his arms along the wall until one hand touched metal. Jagged rust scraped the pads of his fingertips, but still he explored. A circle of iron moved under his touch. It twisted slowly and the vines fell away.
The gate swung inward, despite the loud complaints of the rusted hinges, to reveal a small overgrown courtyard garden. A spiral of brick paving led to a moss covered white fountain. The water was still, but the white flowers of the vine had found their way to the top tier. He walked slowly to the fountain and touched one of the delicate blooms.
'You're here, aren't you?' he asked quietly even though his heart already knew it was true.
'I'm here.'
The perfume of the flowers filled him.
'I have waited a long time,' an accented voice whispered just behind his ear.
Jeremy shivered at the breath that touched his skin. 'You're real this time?'
'I have always been real.'
A hand pressed lightly against Jeremy's back then slid smoothly around his body to cover the pounding heart.
'Who are you?' Jeremy whispered as those familiar lips brushed against his neck.
'You will know me again,' came the cryptic reply. 'Look at me and know me once more.'
Jeremy had waited for that moment for as long as he could remember, but when the offer came he hesitated. 'Will the dream end once I've seen you?'
Another kiss and Jeremy felt the lips smile before the man stepped away. 'That dream will end, but the rest of our dreams can begin.'
With a shaky breath Jeremy turned and every fibre of his being ached with the weight of years past. Blue eyes brighter than any he'd ever seen held his and they knew each other. Jeremy reached up and touched the porcelain skin. His fingers recognized the angle of cheekbone, the impossibly smoothness of the cheek, and the gentle curve of full lips.
'I know you,' he whispered and, although he could not place the man in any of his history, the lonely void that echoed through his life was filled. Memories flooded in. Memories of times spent with the man he touched; of secret rendezvous in summer meadows and languid nights in feather beds.
Jeremy finally said the name that teased his tongue, 'Marcus.'
Marcus smiled and the points of sharp teeth caught a shard of moonlight that dodged the clouds, but Jeremy wasn't afraid. He remembered their embraces and the blood he gave his lover. He remembered their vow to always be together no matter how the world changed around them.
'So much time has passed,' Jeremy said while he threaded his fingers through the long dark hair. 'But you waited for me.'
'I felt you when you were reborn and I no longer simply endured the years. I had hope and waited until you grew.'
'It will work this time.' Jeremy said softly.
'I do not fear it my love. I was young in my change and could not bring you over, but I am stronger now. You died in my arms with your blood on my lips and I believed I would end too until I felt your soul bid me wait for you. So I waited through many human lifetimes until your warmth reappeared, and I knew.'
Jeremy leaned in and kissed the soft mouth, allowing the lethal fangs to spring droplets of blood from his lips.
This time it will work.