She wants a long human life. It’s not something I can offer her. Either my desire to keep her by my side or my thirst for her blood will bring me to kill her. I just don’t know which yet. There is a third option, of course.
I could just grow bored.
That’s how I first thought this would end. That I would grow bored of her blood. Grow bored of her body. The idea is laughable. I know better now. I will never have enough of her. Even if I drank every drop of her blood, my thirst would not be quenched, and even if I fucked her for a century, I wouldn’t want to stop.
“Everette, don’t look so stern,” the Mother chastises, swatting at my shoulder with her hand. The motion pulls me out of my thoughts and I glance her way briefly before returning my attention to Farah.
“He does that,” Farah says shyly.
“He does, doesn’t he?”
“I think that under the circumstances, I should be given leniency.”
“What circumstances?” The Mother asks, giving me a knowing look. She’s doing this on purpose. She’s making my decision for me, and she damn well knows it.
If she answers Farah’s questions, I’ll either lose her or I’ll be stuck with her forever. I’m not sure which idea is worse. Do I want to share forever with Farah?
I watch Farah closely, trying to determine the answer to that question. I want her blood. I want her body. I even want her company. But forever? I’ve never considered sharing forever with anyone. That’s a level of commitment I’ve never even contemplated. At least not until recently.
“Questions,” I mutter under my breath. I know the Mother will hear me, even if Farah doesn’t. It’s not likely to be enough to convince her to hold her tongue however.
“You knew my mother?” Farah asks the question I know she’s dying to have answered. It’s been on the tip of her tongue since the Mother first declared that Farah looks just like her late mother.
Even I had been surprised by that one. It would appear that even when you’re centuries old, there are still things you don’t know. Not that I’d admit that to either of the ladies sitting at this table.
I’m tempted to rush to Farah’s side so I can cover her pretty, little ears before she can hear something that will get her killed, all the while, wondering if that is actually what I want.
Do I want her death? I think I just might. More than I’d like to admit.
“This can wait,” I say sharply. “She doesn’t need to know yet.”
I don’t even know what I’m talking about. I don’t know what secrets I’m trying to keep hidden, but I won’t let her sacrifice her life for mere curiosity. It’s absurd. Love would be a better reason. Lust would be better still.
But curiosity?
“Not today!” I stand to my feet, causing Farah to jump slightly in her chair. The Mother on the other hand simply looks delighted that I’m making a spectacle of myself. She is clearly enjoying my discomfort in that way that parents do.
This is exactly like how human mothers show off their children’s baby photos.
“Everette,” Farah replies tersely, “what on earth is the matter?”
“Do you not want to live?” I ask her, my fist dropping down onto the table between us. I sound almost callous. As if I don’t care that her life hangs in the balance, and perhaps she thinks I don’t. She’s wrong though.
“Yes. Of course, I do.”
“Then not today.” My voice is quieter now. Almost gentle. Full of fear that I’d rather not inspect.
She finally grasps my meaning. “You’re not going to kill me today.”
“Not today,” I say with a nod.
Her responding smile is so wide, so thankful that if I were human, I wouldn’t be able to breathe. She’s breath-taking.
“You might not need to die today,” the Mother says with almost lyrical laughter, “but I can still answer your questions.”
My eyes narrow. I have no idea what she’s up to. If we answer Farah’s questions, we’re practically writing her death warrant. I will need to kill her, and far sooner than I’d like.
“NOT TODAY,” I grit out.
“You keep saying that like it means something, Everette. But you forget. Today. Tomorrow. It’s all the same. She has questions. We have answers. It’s about time we give them to her.”
I’m not used to being chastised by the Mother.
“Usually, Everette, you’re so obedient. I don’t know what’s gotten into you. Now sit down and have a glass of blood, while I tell your beloved a story.”
“B-beloved?” I ask, sputtering.
“Is that not what she is?” she returns too quietly for Farah to hear. “You were about ready to strike me a moment ago.”
I don’t deny it. She’d see through the lie.
“I suppose she is.”
CHAPTER TWO
Farah
It’s hard to hide my surprise. Beloved? It’s a word that hardly seems to apply to me. At least not where Everette is concerned. And it’s not just because it’s a word from some distant era. He doesn’t love me. Sure, he wants me. He craves my body, and he definitely enjoys my blood, but that is not love.
He’s never once used the word love.
And I don’t think it’s something I’ve even considered. Even if I’m living out the plot of a vampire romance novel, it seems far too surreal that he might actually love me.
But he accepts the word and all that it implies after only a brief attempt to refute it. His eyes focused on me, he gives me a gentle smile and I can’t help but want to open up his mind and read it like a book. I just don’t understand him one bit. Nothing about this makes sense.
He
