It was so strange to see him asleep, to think of him getting tired. Did he ever hurt? Was he ever afraid?
Her fingernail made a slight sound, striking the emerald—or whatever it was. Happy birthday, Bea. Girls like jewelry, don’t they? She’d found the receipt for the chain while filing a mountain of paperwork he hadn’t had time for, finishing the third draft of his second book.
The one that was supposed to really make his name, since the first one had done so well commercially.
A terrible thought tiptoed through her head as she yanked the afghan up her bare shoulder once more. If the monster was telling the truth, why in God’s name would Jare give her the stupid thing? Had her brother gone into a hole on the side of Noll Mountain and come out with a brilliant stone set in something that looked like titanium? Had he seen the greiben-things in there? If he had, why would he blame the little green men on ‘Everly’? A natural mistake, or…
It consumes, unless given with love.
She didn’t know what to think. It was pretty bad if your brother was just plain crazy, but in the vast scheme of things, that was livable. Far worse if he was murdered by monsters, and light-years more awful to wonder if he’d meant to give her a cursed…
No. Jare loved you, and you loved him, even if he was a grade-A asshole sometimes. What brother isn’t?
Her heart gave a terrible, wringing leap.
Lukas’s eyes were open. He was looking right at her, and Bea was next to the door, her hand flat on the wall for support. She realized it had to look like she was trying to get through the seals again, and snatched her fingers away as if the flat painted surface burned, nearly dropping the afghan in the process.
“I w-wasn’t,” she stammered, aware it just made her look guiltier. “I w-was j-j-just...”
He curled up to sitting in one fluid, controlled motion. Tilted his golden-brown head from one side to the other, stretching his neck. It was a very human movement, all things considered. Then he just looked at her, dark eyes level, no sign of anger or amusement.
Oh, crap. “I d-didn’t want to wake you up.” It sounded like a completely lame lie, mostly because it was. “I was thinking about my brother.” That part was unequivocally true, but he probably wouldn’t care.
Lukas nodded slightly. “It must have been...difficult. Seeing the house, again.”
That’s one way to put it. Of all the responses she’d expected, that one wasn’t even in the ballpark. “Yeah.” Her cheeks felt hot—Christ, if she was blushing, there was no way to hide it while only wearing some granny squares. “I haven’t seen you sleep before.”
“I spent the day arranging a few matters. The weather is somewhat uncertain, so deliveries were minimal.” He paused. “Even a daywalker occasionally requires rest.”
I guess so. Bea squared her shoulders, and though she tried to march across the room, she probably looked more like a stray cat creeping under a porch. It was kind of undignified, since she was only wearing a blankie.
He didn’t move when she perched on the edge of the bed, though her hip sank into the mattress next to his blanket-covered knee. He simply watched her, probably not sure what crazy thing she’d do next.
The feeling was emphatically mutual. But Bea took a deep breath, fixing him with what she hoped was a no-nonsense look. “I’ve been thinking.”
No response save a further fractional head-tilt, maybe faintly puzzled, maybe saying go on. Which meant she had to take the plunge, or feel even more ridiculous. “I believe you,” she announced. “About my...about Jared. ”
“Ah.” Did his shoulders hunch, ever so slightly? “I regret not moving sooner on that matter.”
So far, so good. “And I’m sorry for staking you.”
“I did not mind so much.” A very slight smile, growing as she watched. His chin dropped slightly, and he shrugged, muscle rippling on his shoulders. “You seemed so determined, how could I refuse?”
Yeah, well. It was awkward to get her right hand untangled from the afghan; still, she managed. “Hi. I’m Bea Dunlevy. Nice to meet you.”
The smile remained, though he examined her fingers hanging in midair like he didn’t know what to do with them. Bea was beginning to think she’d violated some kind of bloodsucker etiquette by the time he took her hand in both of his.
“Hello.” Quiet and grave. “I am Lukas; it is an honor to make your acquaintance, lady mine.”
He lifted her hand, turned it over. Bea didn’t resist. Lukas pressed his lips gently to the inside of her wrist, and a soft, entirely inappropriate jolt of lightning flooded her entire body.
My hormones are so stupid. “You’re not going to let me go, are you.”
A small headshake, his mouth turning down for a moment. “No.” He studied her for a moment, maybe expecting her to scream, and when she didn’t he continued. “For a fledgling, every feeding is a temptation to glut, and every feast risks bloodcraze and true-death. When dawn loses its grip we are elder, but the risk of lethargy increases; we may starve from sheer anomie. The older one gets, the more calcification threatens and spreads; to stay flexible, engaged with the world, is extremely difficult. True-death looms ever closer, and the only cure is a leman. To be renewed with every moment spent in your company—do you think I would willingly give that up?”
Jesus. “If it’s so bad being...what you are, why would you ever make another person go through it? Am I going to?—”
“Leman are immune to glut and ossification both—and to the killing sleep as well, though you will never achieve the speed and strength of an elder. You are a miracle, and will never know what you save your sanguinant from.” The soft earnestness was almost disarming, almost completely human. “Do you see? None of my kind would willingly let one of your kind escape.”
