Chapter 9
Beck
Heart still racing and unable to sleep after being on the phone with Eleanor again tonight, I shrug on a shirt and head out my door. My dragon wakes up from his slumber and turns his head eagerly toward the moon, gently pushing me toward the gleaming silver light dancing on the ripples of the dark ocean.
Sorry, not now. I need to think. Maybe tomorrow we can go for a swim again,I promise him vaguely, not really in the mood to get in the water this late. My dragon huffs in protest, but doesn’t argue, just turns his back on me and curls up in a farcorner of my chest.
Stars blink at me from above as I follow the coastline down toward the east. Darkened cottages peek out between the hills, their inhabitants most likely blissfully asleep by now. The entire island is quiet except for the muffled thuds of my long strides as my mind wrestles with my heart.
Since Eleanor reentered my life, I’ve been happier than I’ve ever been before—including when we were kids. I constantly hunger for more time with her, moreeverythingwith her, but I don’t know how to go about it or if I’m being too greedy. All I know is that she consumes my thoughts all day and all night, my dreams now too.
Even when she’s not around, I can hear her laughter. The sweet cadence of her voice is ingrained in my memory like a favorite song. When I close my eyes, her face appears on my darkened lids, her striking red hair luring me closer, my fingers itching to card through her long locks, tilt her face up to mine and finally press my lips to hers like I’ve been longing to do.
But I’m nervous, more nervous than I’ve been about anything else. What if I scare Eleanor off if I reveal the direction that my feelings have gone? It’s wonderful being her friend, but I want more. So much more with her. But I simply can’t lose her again. I don’t think I’d survive that.
The distant rumbling of male voices has me searching the horizon for their source, and my dragon opens a sleepy eye to help me determine if they’re friend or foe. Nostrils flaring, we quickly sniff the air to pinpoint their location and identities, relaxing again once we recognize Arran and Bodin’s familiar scents. My dragon stretches his long, serpentine body, yawninglanguidly before curling up into a tight ball again and drifting off to sleep, while I continue forward to join my friends.
I lengthen my strides as Bodin lifts a hand in greeting, beckoning me closer to where he’s sitting with Arran on the front steps of the vampire’s castle.
“Beck. You’re out late,” Bodin says, patting a spot next to him.
I shrug and keep standing, unable to sit while my mind is still preoccupied. “I could say the same about you.”
“It seems as if my home has become some type of refuge for wayward creatures tonight,” Arran says, hardly looking up as he continues tinkering with something small in his hands.
A sly smile pulls at Bodin’s mouth, which I recognize as a sign of teasing to come, but thankfully not in my direction this time.
“You know, that isn’t a bad idea,” Bodin drawls. “Your castle is big, and I imagine a little lonely too. You could consider opening your doors to host some creatures.”
“Foolish talk,” Arran mumbles, shooting a severe frown Bodin’s way.
As Starry Hill’s founder and longest resident, Arran mostly keeps to himself, only coming out after sunset to gather his much-needed blood bags from The Bandaged Heart before returning to the castle he built with his own hands. I don’t know how long it’s been since he’s fed directly from a source, but I do frequent trips to the blood bank in the city to ensure he has an adequate supply that’ll keep him nourished.
When he joined our boys’ night on the beach many months ago, and taught us log-throwing techniques, we were all pleased to get to know a new side of him. I initially didn’t expect him toaccept my invitation to join our Knights and Castles game, but I’m really enjoying his company and have come to think of him as a friend.
Gesturing at the object in Arran’s hands, I ask, “What are you making?”
“Dice.”
Arran hands me the d20 die and I hold it up to the moonlight to see the details more clearly. It’s completely hand-carved, the edges sanded smooth with numbers engraved into each side. It’s from the same sandstone his castle is made of and must’ve taken ages to create.
Turning the die over in my hand, I gawp at his fine handiwork. “This is amazing. How long did it take you to carve this?”
“This one, not that long. I borrowed your die that first game night so I could sketch out the design before trying my hand at making my own. This is the fourth one I’ve made.”
“Fourth?” Bodin asks, sounding just as astonished as me as he takes the die and studies it just as closely as I had.
Arran rubs a hand over his cropped hair. “Aye, a little memento for each of us. Thought it might be nice to have something to commemorate our game nights. Besides, there’s not much to do when you’re awake while the rest of the island sleeps. Except for you two tonight, that is.”
“But you have sunscreen now. You can go out anytime of the day and do other stuff,” I point out logically.
Arran gives me a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Old habits and all that.”
“Change could be good for you,” Bodin suggests, leaning back against the wall, arms crossed over his chest as he gives both me and Arran very loaded looks.
I don’t know why he wants to include me in that statement, so I ignore the implication, choosing to direct the conversation toward something more important. “If you’re up for change, maybe you’ll finally let us install power for your castle?” Out of all the homes and shops on Starry Hill, Arran’s is the only one that doesn’t have electricity, despite Bodin and me offering to bring him into the present century numerous times.
Arran waves a dismissive hand and scoffs, “I have gone without modern luxuries or any kinds of technology for over four hundred years. I don’t foresee myself developing a sudden need now, or at any point within the next four hundred.”
