Page 58

JULIAN

It was the oddest and most wonderful relationship I’d ever been in. I didn’t know what to call Vincent: my boyfriend? Lover? Significant other? It didn’t really matter. We were together, and I’d never been happier.

But as we grew more comfortable with each other, I noticed Vincent starting to let the human act he’d been playing for centuries slip. It wasn’t just the way he slept—though that still creeped me out a bit—it was also the way he moved, how he talked, and his ability to lift a large tree with one hand. I was glad he trusted me enough to be himself. And it was strange and fascinating to be around such a creature.

There were times, though, when I saw a side of Vincent that made the hair on the back of my neck stand on end. These moments reminded me that Vincent was not only inhuman but also a predator.

Two weeks after we moved into the same room, I was in our shared bathroom getting ready for bed. I’d left Vincent on the sofa in the main room and come in to start a fire in the stove, brush my teeth, and take care of my human needs. After I was done, I peered out into the bedroom and was surprised to find it empty. By then, Vincent was usually waiting for me to come to bed.

As I stepped out of the bathroom, I noticed Vincent standing in the dim hallway just outside the door. I almost called out to him, but the words and smile died on my lips. The creature beyond the door, motionless and coiled like a spring, was nothing like the Vincent I’d come to know. His shoulders were slightly raised, and his eyes were fixed on the spot on the bed where Samson slept. Vincent’s eyes glowed, reflecting the faint light from the room and transforming it into something sinister and deadly.

I froze. I didn’t breathe or blink. Finally, I managed to draw a breath.

“Vincent. Are you okay?”

Vincent narrowed his eyes but didn’t seem to hear at first.

“Vincent?”

Vincent blinked several times and relaxed. He lifted his gaze to me, confused. “Hmm, what?”

“I asked if you’re okay.”

“I’m fine. But I should be asking you. Your heart is racing a mile a minute.” Vincent’s voice sounded off.

“Yeah, you just gave me a start, that’s all. Are you sure you’re alright? You didn’t seem yourself a minute ago,” I said, feeling shaky.

Vincent walked into the room, seemingly normal, showing no signs of what had happened in the hall.

“I didn’t? Well, I’m fine now,” he said, smiling. As he did, I noticed his fangs were fully extended.

“Vincent, you’re hungry.”

He ran his tongue along one of his sharp teeth. “Indeed. I seem to be. I suppose it has been a few days.”

“Come to bed and eat,” I said, but for the first time since the first night I’d fed Vincent, I was nervous about how it would play out. Vincent was underfed, and I’d noticed he was starting to lose weight. It was subtle at first, but now I could see the difference.

As Vincent undressed, I watched him from our bed and cataloged the changes. His clothes hung looser, and his dark jeans sat lower on his hips. His chest, though still muscular, was smaller and more defined. His arms, once considerably larger than mine, were nearly the same size now. He was still the most gorgeous thing I’d ever seen, but there were changes.

Vincent lifted the covers and slipped into bed. I tried to pretend everything was normal. Vincent seemed to have recovered from whatever had happened in the hall, but I couldn’t shake the fear. From then on, I vowed to keep Samson with me at all times. Vincent told me he didn’t eat animals, but blood was blood, and I feared for my pet.

Vincent reached out and gently ran his hand down my arm. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“I know. I’m fine,” I said, taking a deep breath.

“I can tell you aren’t. I’m sorry. If touching you makes you uncomfortable, we don’t have to. I could go.”

“No. It helps, actually. It’s just the way you looked. I know it sounds crazy, but sometimes I forget what you are.”

Vincent searched my face, his blue eyes still intense but no longer the icy cold of a predator. “It’s a good reminder for both of us. I shouldn’t allow myself to get so hungry.”

“Here, come to me.” I opened my arms. Vincent inched closer, and I slid my hand behind his head, burying my fingers in the soft black waves and urging him toward my throat.

As Vincent fed, everything felt right again. Holding Vincent, I wondered how I’d gotten so lucky. I could have easily spent the rest of my life stuck in my parents’ cabin, waiting for the world to recover. Instead, I found my way into the arms of this perfect creature. It still boggled my mind to think about it.

I understood what Vincent saw in me. I had everything Vincent needed in that moment. The level of dependency was painfully illustrated by Vincent’s teeth in my neck, his mouth drawing my blood. I knew this wouldn’t be Vincent’s first choice, though. He needed more blood than I could offer. Feeding solely from me was a temporary necessity. Yet I didn’t want what we had to ever end.

As time went on, I grew increasingly attached to Vincent. Thoughts of moving on from the home we’d created and of meeting other people brought out many unattractive feelings in me. I had never been the possessive or jealous type, but I couldn’t help thinking of Vincent as mine, and I didn’t want to share.