‘So what century is she from?’
‘Eighteenth. She was turned in 1758.’
Damian rakes a hand through his hair, his face pale. ‘And this guy, this vampire ex, that’s after you for this thing you did—what about him?’
I shrug. ‘He was always reluctant to tell me his age for some reason, even though I tried to pry it out of him numerous times. But he mentioned the original Globe Theatre a couple of times in passing, so he’s at least as old as Hester. He’s strong physically. And mentally, he can match all three of us put together, which ... Well, we’re just lucky that Hester has her shielding ability that throws him off my scent.’ I keep my tone light, but it’s toolate—Damian’s picked up on my hesitation.
‘So I’m assuming Dryden is the vengeful, jealous type of vampire ex?’
‘Yeah.’
‘How much danger am I in?’
I hesitate, unsure how to respond without adding to his fear. But I have to tell him. ‘Like all the blood sucked from your body and being ripped to shreds—that kind of danger.’
Damian’s face turns ashen, and his eyes widen. He rubs at his temples with both hands, like he’s having an inner mental explosion.
Instantly, I’m in his lap and stroking his chest. ‘Breathe, Damian, just breathe. It will be OK. We’ll do everything in our power so thatwon’thappen to you.’
He takes a deep shuddering breath, then another.
‘OK. T-thank you,’ he manages. ‘I don’t know why, but I do feel slightly more reassured by that.’
‘De rien, ma chèrie.’ Well, I didn’t spend thirty-three years in Paris without picking upsomeFrench. I snuggle my face into the crook of his neck, and he puts his arms around me with a low murmur of satisfaction, as if he likes me being there. I cuddle him, transmitting some soothing energy as he processes this new information.
Eventually, Damian reaches the inevitable conclusion because he’s a smart guy. ‘So if you turn me into a vampire,he’ll leave me alone? Is that the decision Sadie was talking about?’
I nod into his neck, hearing his pulse quicken. ‘That’s the theory. You’ll be able to defend yourself at least, and from what I’ve experienced, newbies are strong. Plus with four against one, we’ve got a much better chance if he comes for us.’
‘And if I don’t want that?’
‘Then we’ll give you a memory wipe, including my dental appointment. You’ll never know I exist,’ I say, the words muffled against his chest.
Damian strokes my hair, and I resist the temptation to read his thoughts as he ponders this.
‘It’s a lot to think about,’ he says at last, sounding rattled. ‘I have a job and a family. I have a life. It’s not a perfect life, but at least I know it’s going to end at some point. I’m not sure I’d be able to handle living forever. It’s just too hard to comprehend.’
I attempt to understand Damian’s way of thinking, and I partly get it, but not entirely. My sense of forever is warped. Years race by in the blink of an eye; decades merge and clump together like raindrops sliding down a windowpane.
‘What’s to comprehend? The world changes, and as a vampire, you just change with it and adapt. It’s not hard to do. You just get on with it,’ I tell him stiffly. OK, I wasn’texpecting him to jump for joy, but I’m hurt at my boyfriend’s close-minded attitude.Vengeful exes aside, wouldn’t spending eternity with moi be at least a little bit fun?
Chapter 29
Florence | Paris, 1921
Aunt Ivy is dying, but Alexander won’t let me go back to London to visit her. I’m raging. The short family holiday has turned into thirty-three fucking years. By now, I’ve mentioned to her that I’m with Alexander, but I’ve never referred to him as my husband since he’s certainly never got down on one knee. I’ve simply let her assume he is.
Aunt Ivy’s letters to me are filled with resignation about her cancerous tumour and gentle understanding. After all, I must be terribly busy being a doctor’s wife, and that’s why I can’t visit her. Otherwise, she knows I would. But I can read between the lines—she’s hurt that I’m unable to, especially since she’s on her deathbed and the war’s been over for three years.
How can I tell her that my master is a controlling bullheaded vampire and he refuses to let me?
‘Death is par for the course with humans. The sooner you accept that, the better,’ says Alexander impatientlywhen I ask him to let me leave Paris for the twentieth time. ‘It’s best if you stay away. It will just be too distressing for you.’
‘I’m not a child, Alexander,’ I reply through gritted teeth. ‘And she’s like a mother to me—you know that.’
‘No, Florence,’ he repeats, twitching his shirt cuffs as he prepares for a feeding jaunt. ‘You will stay here. With me. And for God’s sake, stop asking me about it. It’s damned irritating.’
‘Uncaring bastard!’ I shout at him and run out of the room, wishing I could at least burst into tears.
