I stared at the sign again, seeing if I could feel any mysterious vibes from it. Nothing. “Why’s that?”
“These are ancient places. Three, four hundred years old. Back then, there was more appreciation for the spirit world, and far more practitioners than there are now. So they naturally became hubs for all types – witches, warlocks, seers, psychics, magicians, those who were drawn to or immersed in the dark arts from Europe and the Orient.” He smiled. “And of course, we special ones.”
“But you said you made many enemies. Who, exactly?”
Jared’s expression turned to one of obvious distaste. “The world of the supernatural isn’t one big happy family, Lacey. Within all groups there are rivals and factions. Even among the two royal vampire clans there are power struggles and feuds. And there have been more than a few sorcerers who wished to harness our energy for their own ends…and the easiest way for them to do so was by using our blood. These are evil creatures, Lacey. They would do us harm even today.”
My eyebrows rose. “You have blood?”
“More like sludge, but yes. In the hands of an adept it can be a source of tremendous power. For centuries, seekers have toiled to find the secret to eternal life, or the fountain of youth. It would be natural that they would look to the creatures who are effectively immortal for the answer.”
“And…do what? Dissect you? Experiment on you?”
His expression darkened further. “That and more, I’m sure. I don’t plan to find out.”
I spotted a boutique and coaxed Jared inside. He was good-humored about it, helping with my decisions for several tops before I told him I needed privacy for more personal items. I made my purchases with the leftover money and wondered what it must be like to have as much wealth as I could dream of. Would it no longer have any value to me? Be just a means to an end? Most everyone spent their lives chasing pieces of paper with numbers printed on them. The idea of there being no scarcity of them for me to spend was almost as dizzying as Jared’s revelations about his special breed.
Which stopped me. I’d been spending the day with a vampire, and it wasn’t all that different than if Jared were…normal. He’d been sharing his secrets with me without hesitation, and it didn’t feel that weird anymore to view things from his perspective. I had almost taken in stride his revelation that there were sorcerers in many cities who would kill to get their hands on vampires, and that there were hidden symbols to signal their presence to the initiated. None of it felt nearly as…crazy…as I would have imagined it might, and I wondered if I was still in some kind of slow-motion shock from the night before.
One look at Jared waiting patiently outside the shop convinced me that, whatever he was, I was falling hard for him, and the more time I spent with him, the more difficult it would be to deny it to myself. But even more terrifying for me was that even though I now knew the truth about him, it didn’t change the way I felt.
And eventually, that would lead down a road I wasn’t prepared to think about yet.
“Ready?” he asked, and I was again struck by how gorgeous he was – not his looks (okay, yes, those too), but the radiance of his personality, his charisma…and his obvious tenderness toward me.
This time it was I who took his hand. He seemed surprised for a moment, but recovered quickly. We walked along like an ordinary couple, not a celebrity vampire and a college coed, and I was again struck by how right everything felt.
“Hey, look,” he said, indicating a storefront down the block with a loom in the display window. “Antique shop. Want to take a look?”
“Sure.”
The shop was crowded with furniture. The shelves that lined the walls were filled with treasures from the past, most at least a hundred years old and many two or more, by the looks of them. Jared walked slowly along the rows, and when the proprietor, an older woman with her gray hair pulled back in a ponytail, appeared from behind an armoire and asked if we were looking for anything special, he thanked her and told her we were just browsing.
I stopped at a tall mahogany grandfather clock, puzzled by why I felt such a pull to it. Jared hung back and watched me, and then was at my side with a smile.
“What do you think?” he asked.
“It’s gorgeous. Really is.” I read from the tag hanging on the front. “Mahogany. Federalist Period. Circa 1798. Good working order with original weights and hourly strike movement.” I looked up at the painted face above the dial, where a depiction of a partridge sitting in a basket of flowers decorated the top, and then gazed back at the tag. “Oh, wow. Six grand. That’s quite a clock.”
“I’m not surprised you like it,” Jared said, his smile broadening.
I looked to him with a puzzled moue. “Why?”
“Before…you loved grandfather clocks. They were a fascination for you.”
My mouth dropped open. “Are you serious?”
He nodded.
I gave him another sidelong glance. “You could be making that up. I have no way of knowing if it’s the truth or not.”
“We…special people…are incapable of lying.”
“Really?”
He laughed. “I could have a lot of fun with this if I wanted, couldn’t I?”
I swatted his arm and resisted the urge to smile. “I should have known better.”
His face grew serious. “Do you want it?” he asked. “The clock?”
I looked at him, perplexed. “For real? And where would I put it? In the dorm? I don’t think so.”
His expression clouded. “I’m assuming you might not be going back to
