I watched him for a long moment before finally turning toward the small couch near the hearth. It wasn’t comfortable, but it would do.
The firelight danced across the room, painting him in gold and shadow as he crossed to the window.
He paused there, staring out into the night. His profile was all sharp lines softened by something heartbreakingly human.
“You’ll be safe,” he said quietly, not looking back.
I wanted to laugh, but the words stuck somewhere in my chest.
“You’re the one who should be worried. Sun’s coming up soon,” I reminded him.
He smiled faintly. “I’ll manage.”
I watched him move toward the darker side of the room, the faint rustle as he settled near the wall.
The house fell into that strange, comfortable silence again. Two people breathing in rhythm, pretending the world outside didn’t exist.
Sleep didn’t come easy. My body ached, but not just from wounds. My thoughts kept circling back to Simon. The way he’d said he missed sunlight, the way his fingers had trembled when they brushed mine.
The way, against all logic, I didn’t want him to leave.
I turned on my side, facing the faint outline of where he sat in the shadows.
“Simon?” I murmured.
A soft rustle. “Yeah?”
“Thanks. For everything,” I said.
For the food. For staying. For not being what I was taught to fear.
There was a pause.
“Goodnight, Kit,” Simon said softly.
His voice carried something in it. Something fragile, something I wasn’t ready to name.
I closed my eyes and let the sound settle deep into me. For the first time in years, the ache in my chest eased just enough to breathe.
Somewhere between the dying firelight and the quiet rhythm of his breathing, I realized I was no longer sure who was saving who.
10
KIT/ SIMON
KIT
It had been a week since I left the house.
Seven days of pretending I was fine, that nothing unusual had happened, that I hadn’t almost died beside a vampire who’d watched over me.
The Guild didn’t suspect a thing. At least, I didn’t think they did.
I’d gone back to routine. The endless briefings, the dull training drills, the stack of paperwork they gave washed-up hunters to make them feel useful.
I said the right things. I smiled at the right times. I nodded when my supervisor told me I’d be assigned to another low-risk job next week.
Haunted barns. Poltergeist false alarms. Whatever kept me out of sight and out of trouble.
