Her head snaps up. “You do?”
“Yes,” I admit. “And she’s going to hear from you. Your phone—everything you left behind—we’ll get it for you. Nothing about this ends with her worrying where you are.”
“Okay.” She nods and stares down at her hands in her lap again.
And I let the silence linger for a little bit, giving her more time to wrap her mind around it all.
“I know this is a lot,” I eventually say. “It’s been…a lot for me too. And I know I haven’t handled it well or set you up to feel comfortable now in any way, but I… Well, I’m willing to answeranything you want to ask, unfiltered, of course, and now that you’re safe, I’m also willing to give you space. Not a lot of space,” I hedge. “Like…the next room, but it’s better than—”
“I don’t want space,” she says suddenly, her eyes snapping to mine and cutting me right to the quick. There’s so much fire there—so much feeling. If it weren’t an exact mirror of my own emotions, I’d probably struggle to understand the depth of it.
But the kisses between us…they broke something. Or, I don’t know, built it, I guess, depending on how you look at it.
Our bond, as it were, is fully formed.
She’s still confused and hurting—but she trusts me. Her body demands it.
“Okay. Then I’ll be close. Ask me whatever you want, and I promise I’ll do my best to answer it. I’m afraid if I try to explain it all myself, I’ll just overwhelm you.”
“I…well, I don’t really know what to ask, so I guess I’ll start the only place I can.”
I nod encouragingly.
“Where…where are we right now?” she asks. “I mean, I know we’re in a hotel room,” she says through a self-deprecating snort as she glances down at the robe she’s wearing. “But what hotel?”
“The Westin. Worcester, Massachusetts.” My smile is soft, and her eyes widen at the sight of it. I know it must be a shock after months of angry looks and monosyllabic grunts, but it’s amazing how much more peaceful I feel now that I’ve given in to the universe’s pull.
“Right. And…why are we here?”
“Because it’s safe right now. Distant enough Holland and the others won’t be able to sense us.”
She giggles, and for far from the first time, I try to insert myself into her level of naïveté. It’s hard, to say the least, but I was there once. As a young boy, I had no idea why I craved the smell of blood or moved so much faster than those around me. As a young boy, I often thought of myself as a freak show.
“Hah. Right.Senseus. So, when you say that, you mean…”
“Smell, visions. Just overall intuition. We’re—our kind—is gifted in all sorts of ways.”
“Right, right.” She sucks her bottom lip into her mouth for a long moment before quietly asking, “And byyour kind, you mean…?”
The word is a whisper and a bomb all at once. “Vampires.”
Her giggle turns chaotic as she jumps from the chair and starts to pace, turning back to me for confirmation every so often. I hold myself still and steady, waiting for her to be ready for more before continuing.
When she sits back down, she does it right next to me, pushing the heat of her thigh into the heat of my own for comfort.
My throat thickens instantly with want, but I shove it down.
“Vampires,” she whispers, testing the word on her tongue.
I nod. “Vampires.”
“Like…vampires in the way I’m imagining them? With bloodsucking tendencies and bats and glittery skin…”
“Minus the bats,” I say. “And closer to Dracula than anything sparkly. But the basics are relatively the same.”
“So, you need…blood…to survive?”
“Some vampires do, but they’re becoming an extinct breed.”
