“What happens if vampires don’t complete the mate bond?” he asked.
Cassidy didn’t speak as they passed the kids on the stairs. Lost in their conversation, their laughter, and the magic of the spring night, the kids didn’t acknowledge their passing.
“If one of the people involved in the bond is human, the vampire is compelled to change them. If the bond isn’t completed, or if a mate dies, the vampire goes insane, becomes a Savage, or kills themselves,” she said when they were out of earshot.
“Shit,” Dante said.
Cassidy smiled grimly as they arrived at his apartment building and stopped at the bottom of the steps. “It’s a powerful bond. And sex, or an exchange of blood without completing the bond, only increases a vampire’s compulsion to claim their mate. A vampire, especially a pureblood like me, can start to lose control pretty fast afterward if they don’t complete the bond.”
Dante willed her to look at him, and finally, she lifted her eyes to his. The trepidation and vulnerability in her gaze made it impossible for him to resist her. Without thinking, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her against his chest.
He kissed the top of her head and turned his cheek to rest it against her hair. His mind spun as he tried to process the possibility she could be his for eternity.
“We don’t really know each other,” Cassidy said.
He leaned back to look down at her. “Then what would you like to know about me? Ask away; I’m an open book.”
Cassidy rolled her eyes at his teasing tone.
“I’m not kidding,” he said. “Ask me anything.”
“Where were you born?”
“Right here in Boston; it’s my home and my heart. I love the Red Sox, never miss a Pats game, live and breathe the Bruins, and scream and cheer for the Celtics. I never miss a Marathon Monday and was there the day of the bombing, though I was a mile away from it. I watched every hour of the hunt for the perpetrators on TV. This city is part of my soul.”
“It’s easy to fall in love with,” she said. “I have since I moved here.”
“And where were you born?” he asked as he released her and settled onto one of the steps. He rested his back against the metal railing, lifted his knee, and draped an arm over it.
Cassidy gulped when he looked up at her. The dim glow of the nearby streetlights illuminated the lighter brown strands in his dark hair. It also made him look younger and somehow more vulnerable, or maybe that was because he was looking at her with such hope. Her heart swelled, and it took everything she had not to throw herself into his arms and hug him.
She glanced around, but the street remained deserted except for a passing vehicle. She settled onto the stair across from him and leaned against the wrought iron railing. A spring breeze teased her hair as she told him about being born in Oregon before moving to Maine with her family and later coming to Boston to live with Kyle and Aida before Julian arrived.
They talked about their childhoods, and she was amazed to discover how similar they were… given their extremely different circumstances. She didn’t go to public school until high school, and she had nine siblings, but there were a lot of similarities.
She told him about the vast amount of love her parents shared and how that love had spread throughout her siblings and their families. When she told him about the loss of Doug and how his death left her broken and unable to sing afterward, she saw the understanding in his eyes, and he stretched his hand out to her. She took it and squeezed before releasing him.
He told her about how his father came over from Spain when he was a child and how his voice retained the faintest hint of an accent. He told her about how fluent he was in Spanish, and she melted a little when he switched between Spanish and English with ease. That voice saying those words was almost as panty-melting as his touch.
He’d never known his father’s parents as they passed away in a car accident before he was born. However, his mother’s mom was very involved in his life until she passed away in her sleep when he was sixteen. His mother never knew her father; he took off when he learned his grandma was pregnant.
And he talked about Maya. He told her about how they would make blanket forts and curl up inside them with flashlights and books for hours. He told her about how they would hop on the T and ride it to Fenway on game days. Sometimes, they’d get lucky enough to score standing-room-only tickets cheap, but a lot of times, they hung around outside the park, listening to the cheers and stuffing themselves on hot dogs from the vendors.
He told her about how they tortured each other, shared everything, and talked about their dreams. The more he spoke about Maya, the more real she felt again, and once he started, he couldn’t stop. It had been years since he had anyone to acknowledge Maya’s existence with him; it was like a floodgate opened and all his pent-up love flooded out.
And he told her about how broken and angry he felt when she vanished. How unfair and hopeless it all felt, especially since he couldn’t do much to help find her. When the reality that she was probably dead sank in, he couldn’t get out of bed for a week.
His mother, who was barely surviving at the time, came in on the seventh day, sat beside him, and cried. Dante had no idea how to react to her tears, so he simply lay there, staring at the ceiling and listening to his mother’s quiet sobs as his broken heart shattered further.
When she finished crying, she wiped her eyes
