I pushed a wave of calm towards him. “You have your own room and you can sleep in it every day if that’s what you want. But if you want to stay here, I’d like that too. If you stay, tell me whether you’d like to be nearest the door, or if you’d prefer me between the door and the outside world.”
His eyes shot open. “You’d let me choose?” He seemed amazed, but his heartbeat slowed a little, so my calm was working on him.
“Nobody’s getting in here anyway,” I reassured him, “but the illusion of being safe can aid sleep, same as worry about being trapped can prevent it.”Thank you, Sorley, for sending me those links to trauma.“The brain likes to think it’s in charge. It’s totally up to you.”
A small smile reached his eyes. “I was actually going for surprise you don’t have a side of the bed you always sleep on rather than psychoanalysing myself, but maybe you could sleep on the door side?” His voice went up at the end, croaky and squeaky combined. He cleared his throat. “If I won’t disturb you when I wake up. Like, if I wake up before you.”
“You won’t disturb me, James. If you need me for anything and I’m deeply asleep, be as rough and as loud as you need to be to wake me. I will wake, but depending on where the sun is in the sky, it might take me a minute or two, all right?”
“Yeah, all right.” He hesitated as if unsure if he should say what was on his mind, then ploughed on. “You feel weird when you’re asleep. Like, unnatural. Sorry.”
“No need to be sorry, it’s the truth. I’m undead, love. Of course I feel weird. I’m practically a statue during my periods of sleep.” I winked at him, all fangs and sass. “Fucking badass statue though, right?”
He chuckled. “Seen worse.”
“You cheeky shit. I’m a catch.” With that, I shuffled over to give him plenty of room. Positioning myself with my back to him, again in the hope he’d realise I wasn’t going to maul him, I wished him sweet dreams and told him to extinguish the lamp when he was ready. He fiddled with the quilt and his pillows for a moment, then the room went dark.
“G’night, Edwin. Uh, no. Good day?”
“Either, love. Sleep well.”
I crashed hard, straight into whatever state my body went when the sun came up, the magic pulling my eyelids shut before he’d stopped moving. James seemed okay for now, and I was finally home. Time to catch up on my rest.
6
JAMES
A fortnight later,I was beginning to feel as if I was settling in. London had a rhythm of its own, much like Leeds, and it was a case of adapting to that rhythm rather than trying to fight against it. Edwin’s home was in Poplar, in the East End, which initially meant little to me apart from a vague sense of familiarity with its small signs of poverty and working-class struggle everywhere. In some ways it wasn’t unlike Beeston, but without the damp walls and worry about being hassled by Daz on a daily basis. I was also managing to sleep, curled up next to Edwin, who I knew without a shadow of a doubt would save me from any possible threat my panicked brain could dream up. I still woke up at times with my heart pounding and a feeling of ominous dread, but reaching out to curl my fingers around Edwin’s cool, still hand chased a lot of the monsters back under their rocks, and I would drift off again with the scent of him in my nostrils.
Edwin had a large corner plot on a narrow road of nondescript houses. He told me he’d bought the plot decades ago, and with some careful fudging of ‘official’ documents aka forgeries, it had belonged to him (him and his so-called descendants, because good lord, vamps have to think ahead all the time) from then on. The part you walked through to accessthe carriage/house/whatever you want to call it, was a simple, partially-paved courtyard. No grass, but with raised flowerbeds that weren’t overflowing with blooms, but were pretty enough. The low brick walls looked sturdy, and the path was a crunchy gravel affair edged with what Edwin told me were cut down and painted railway sleepers. It seemed my vampire liked to roll with a theme.
What I’d not appreciated that first night was the rear of the plot. Approximately six times the size of the front garden, maybe more, it was invisible from the front approach because it appeared the property ended at a tall yew hedge which ran the length of the block paving behind the carriage. At the far end, on a level with Edwin’s bedroom, was an archway cut into the hedge which led to a massive area of lawn, all surrounded by an extension of the same hedge. On the other side of the lawn, as far from Edwin’s as was possible and looking very sorry for itself, was another railway carriage, not dissimilar to his one. He described it as a work in progress. I guess vampires have a lot of time to work on stuff, seeing as they’re immortal and all.
Nearer his own carriage was a simple wooden table and chairs in one corner. Running along one of the shorter sides was a roofed structure with no walls, which puzzled me until Edwin explained it was for drying his washing. That did make sense; there was no room for wet laundry inside, or a tumble dryer. The whole garden was impossibly dark, but until I pointed it out, it hadn’t occurred to Edwin with his brilliant vampire night vision. He immediately ordered a weatherproof light to add to the back garden, saying it would be nice to sit outside in summer and maybe I could even eat my dinner out there.
I researched the area and discovered a covered market, where I spent Edwin’s money on some household necessities like plates, cutlery, and toiletries, and because he’d smiled and asked nicely, a couple of pairs of pyjamas. I felt bad spendinghis money, but he got moody and snapped at me that being a shadow was my job andof coursehe was going to pay for things. I apologised, then he did, andthenhe tumbled me to the sofa and kissed me so thoroughly I saw stars. It was the only time he’d not asked my permission before touching me and although I didn’t mind at all — I barely had the ability to breathe at that point — he realised what he’d done and then apologised forthat. I’d waved his apology off, but he thought I was angry and didn’t want to speak to him. He stormed out of the house and was gone for almost three hours, most of which I’d spent clutching my phone and staring at his number, wondering if I was brave enough to call him and beg him to come back.
When I finally heard his key in the door, I’d been frozen to the bed in my room with anxiety that he a) wouldn’t return because he’d cut his losses and left me to it, b) would return to tell me he’d changed his mind and I had to leave immediately, or c) he’d been attacked by someone or something bigger and badder than he was and I would never know because dead vampires don’t leave bodies behind. To say I was a mess was grossly understating it. He’d assumed I still didn’t want to speak to him as I hadn’t answered when he called out. I was too busy remembering how to make my lungs work to form sounds. When he found me, he’d made a noise that sounded like some kind of sob, then gathered me into his arms, wrapped me up like a burrito in one of his scratchy wool blankets and rocked me, still apologising, while I cried myself to sleep.
After that, we had a proper talk about not assuming what the other might be thinking, and life got a lot calmer. I still felt bad about taking his money, but it was what I’d signed up for, so I knew I had to get over myself because fuck knew where I’d find a job in London. I was trained for exactly nothing, my work experience consisting of various cash-in-hand delivery jobs, not all of which I wanted to think too closely about the legalitiesthereof. I kept the carriage spotless, read a lot, and tried not to combust from embarrassment every time Edwin’s bite gave me a stiffy.
Tonight though, I had anxiety for a different reason. We were going out. Specifically, we were heading across town to visit Edwin’s best friend, Baxter, another vampire. All I knew about her was that she was a little older in vampire years than Edwin, super bright, and according to him, ‘fiercely beautiful’. Yeah, so no worries there then. I mean, I’d seen her on a video call at Sorley’s place and thought she was a goddess then, so fuck knows how gorgeous she’d be in person.
We walked to an underground station. The noise and changing air pressure of the train hurtling through the tunnels was agony on my ears, so Edwin said we’d find another route home. We seemed to travel forever, but eventually, after changing onto another line which was thankfully less noisy, then yet more tunnels and another brisk walk, Edwin stopped.
“We’re here.”
I looked up, then up some more, then I just stared at Edwin. “She liveshere?”I managed eventually. “Like, on one floor, right?”
Edwin smirked. “Oh no, it’s all hers. Not all vamps are created equal. My girl is a grifter through and through.” He sounded proud.
“Isn’t grifter usually the opposite of a compliment?” I followed him as he mounted the steps and inserted a key into the fancy-looking lock of the four — no, it was five — storey townhouse. The place looked like it had been built to house rich folks who rode around in horse-drawn carriages and wore frills on everything. AKAveryexpensive.
He flashed me a knowing grin. “Well yeah, but seeing as Baxter and I keep the supernatural identity wheels turning for the whole of the UK and a lot of Europe, I’m fine with thatlabel. Besides, she earned this house. Said it was payment for debts owed. Come on, she’ll be in here somewhere.” Not understanding what he meant, but presuming at some point I’d be clued in if he deemed it relevant, I trailed after him.
The hallway wasgorgeous.Light, much more light than I’d expected from a vampire’s home, glowed from lamps on the walls, reflected everywhere with ornate mirrors. The walls were pale, the furniture on the darker side, and there was an understated elegance to the space. The sophisticated atmosphere was somewhat ruined by the pulsing beat of rock music pouring from a room to our left.
Towing me behind him, Edwin poked his head around the door with the music and whistled sharply. The music cut out.
