“Does it doanything?”
“No. Alcohol does. In sufficient quantities. I cannot have—” he gestured to her plate, “—food. It…ends badly. I miss the taste.”
Shame heated her cheeks, and she set down the utensils. “I can eat this somewhere else. Or…just…wait. Or…leave—”
“No.” His response was closer to a snarl than speech, and Riley jerked and scooted the chair back. “Fuck me. I am sorry, Riley. It has been many years since I had to face the consequences of my making. I will try to control my temper.”
He seemed so sincere, and Riley picked up her fork as he stretched his legs out, crossing them at the ankles. “Are…all the legends true?”
“Legends?” Declan took a small sip of coffee, closing his eyes and then sighing heavily after he swallowed.
“About…vampires.”
“You mean all the romance novels and bedtime stories told to children to urge them to behave?” He arched one dark brow, the corner of his mouth turned up in a grin.
“Yes.” Riley spooned up the last of the creamed spinach and tried not to moan. She’d been so hungry, she’d almost cleaned the plate in under five minutes.
“Most legends are at least partially rooted in fact,” he said simply.
“So, sunlight, garlic, holy water, a stake through the heart?”
“Holy water will not harm me. Garlic…gives me violent indigestion. As does all food. But sunlight, silver, beheading, fire…those are all true.” Another small sip of coffee, and Declan pushed the mug away. “We are cursed creatures, Riley. And we have forever to live with the consequences of our actions. It is…easier to simply not care about anything and anyone than it is to live with an eternity of regrets.”
“What…regrets?” She wasn’t sure she wanted to know, but she’d promised him she wouldn’t leave until the sun rose, and it was still pitch dark outside the windows. Something about the vampire called to her in a way she didn’t understand. He wore those regrets—whatever they were—like a shield, or perhaps, a shroud—and she ached to be able to take his pain away. He held her with his black gaze, and Riley leaned closer and risked draping her fingers over his. “Tell me.”
Declan frowned, and a muscle in his jaw ticked for a brief moment. “The parlor is through the dining room and to your left. Go. Make yourself comfortable. I will dispose of the dishes and join you shortly.”
As she pushed to her feet, she swayed slightly, and he was there, standing, his arm banded tightly around her waist. “I’m fine,” she protested. “This…happens sometimes. My blood pressure fluctuates wildly, and…they, um…took a lot of blood.”
A range of emotions—rage, sorrow, perhaps even pity crossed his handsome features as he held her gaze for several long moments. “We will talk about that as well,acushla. Very soon.”
