Page 119

“It belonged to my grandmother, Juliette.”

“Nick, it’s…” Her fingers find the gold chain and follow it down to the emerald pendant, the same dark green as her peacoat. “It’s so beautiful. Thank you.”

She holds up her hair so I can clasp it around her neck. The jewel glints under the hundreds of fairy lights. It’s not a ring. That one’s coming.

“You’re my forever, Nick Valzera.” Her hands fist the front of my shirt. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Neither am I. That’s not the part I’m worried about anymore.

Chapter 48

Ellery

Snow is falling outside the window, dusting the treetops and whiting out the mountain peak beyond. My first day here, I sat down on this quilt and asked myself what I’d done. Now, with coffee in hand and a flaky croissant pinned between my teeth, I get back under it. I’ve learned it drives Nick crazy when I get crumbs in the bed.

He’s propped up against the black wrought-iron frame with a dusty book, the pages fragile and yellow. Anna gave him a stack from Constantin’s estate library.

“What are these books about?”

He doesn’t look up. “Turning humans without a bloodline. Whether anyone’s ever made it livable.”

“Oh.” I put my coffee down. “For me.”

“For information.” He closes the book. “And yes. For you.”

It’s a question I haven’t said out loud yet. Some days, it sits quiet in the back of my mind. Other days, it’s all I can think about.

I’ve seen what a turned vampire looks like. I don’t love the alternative either. I’ve done the math more than once—forty years, maybe fifty, him looking exactly like this while somebody asks him whether I need a wheelchair.

“Okay,” I say. “New rule. You don’t find a way, then present it to me. You find a way, and you tell me the day you find it. And we decide, together. If you hold back on me, Nick Valzera, I will absolutely tell your mother.”

“There’s no need for threats.”

“It’s my insurance.”

He looks at me sidelong, which means he’s reading me again.

“While we’re making rules.” He puts the book face down. “Constantin said something. About your parents.”

“My parents?”

“He said to ask you about your family legacy, then he’d tell me why.” He straightens the book so the edge lines up with the corner of the nightstand. “He didn’t get to.”

I take another bite of croissant. “My family legacy is a multinational that does everything from rent-a-cop hire to pharmaceuticals, and a house in the Hamptons nobody likes.”

“That’s what I figured.”

“He was baiting you.”

“Probably.” There’s the smallest pause before it, and I don’t push. “He also said you smell wrong, but personally, I think you smell delicious.” He takes away my croissant and goes for my neck.

I’m laughing, pastry flakes all over the bed.

You don’t know what they are, my mother said. Then Constantin asked about my family legacy. Come February, when I have access to the town records, I’m starting with the Ashfords.

“No snacks!” I get an elbow between us. “We have lunch at your mom’s soon.”

“Happy holidays.” I take their coats at Marthe’s front door.