Page 59
“You knew I was coming.”
Alessandra was settling into her abilities, and her mind and body were finally agreeing that the impossible was, in fact, very real. She seemed remarkably calm given the circumstances.
“This simply can’t be happening.”
She spoke to herself more than to him.
“I mean, vampires aren’t real.”
He could disagree, but she required no response.
“They’re not real,” she repeated.
He wondered if she knew how fast she was walking. Alessandra needed to keep moving. Placing his hand on her back, Kenton guided her past her house. And then dropped his hand.
Bloodlust had long since abandoned him. Only the newest vampires felt it, and Kenton had not been newly turned for centuries. But he could still hear Alessandra’s blood pounding through her veins as adrenaline coursed through her body.
They walked the entire length of Main Street, ending up in the town square. They stood there for a beat, watching drunken patrons stumble from Murphy’s Pub on the corner. An empty gazebo sat in the middle of the square, and beyond it, a steam train sat silently. It looked like a postcard image advertising small-town life.
Running her hands through her hair, Alessandra moved toward him.
“I can’t . . .”
Reaching up to lift her chin, Kenton looked into her eyes, his gaze never wavering.
“Yes, you can. You’ve accepted the impossible already, walked here in half the time a normal human being—”
“Oh my God.”
“—could possibly walk. You are Cheld, Alessandra. If trained, you have the ability to be as fast, and as strong, as I am. When vampires are near, your abilities will come alive, as needed, as they’ve done since Lawrence and I came to town.”
Her eyes widened. “Lawrence?”
“A vampire.”
Her mouth opened but no sound came out.
She was ready.
Dropping his hand and opening his mouth, Kenton extended his fangs. To her credit, Alessandra did not faint. Retracting them—that brief glimpse of horror was enough for now—Kenton closed his mouth.
“I . . . I have questions.”
His chuckle must have startled her, likely because Kenton simply did not chuckle.
“I would imagine that you do.”
Two of Murphy’s patrons stumbled past them. “Yo-ho, fellow pirates!”
Some things didn’t change over the centuries. There had always been drunken fools, always would be.
“Come on,” he said, leading her toward the train station. Two gaslit lanterns hung on either side of the platform. Sitting on the bench, he encouraged Alessandra to do the same. She did so, keeping a healthy distance between them once more. Then, tucking one foot under her leg, she turned toward him.
“You’re a vampire.”
He nodded.
“Does that mean you drink blood?”
