‘Ok, I’m not going to lie,’ he says, relaxing a little. ‘That was pretty hot.’
I curtsy, which makes him laugh, and then I grab his arm and start marching us both towards the abbey.
‘Ok, ground rules,’ I say, as we walk. ‘Well, just one rule, really. This is hallowed ground, so my powers will grow weaker the nearer to the abbey we get.’
‘Hallowed ground?’ I can hear the apprehension in his voice, but he doesn’t slow his pace.
‘Because it was a religious building,’ I explain. ‘It hasn’t been in use in centuries, but the spirit of it remains, so my strength and speed will gradually drop to a human level as we get closer. So if we see a security guard, we’re not going to run. We’re going to hide.’
‘A security guard?’ I feel him stiffen beside me. ‘Florence, are we breaking and entering?’
‘No, of course not,’ I scoff, biting back a smile. ‘We can’t break into ruins. We’retrespassing.’
‘Florence!’
There’s real panic in his voice this time and, God help me, when I hear it, I almost laugh out loud. I definitely can’t hold in my smile.
‘Oh, live a little,’ I say, not loosening my grasp on his arm or the pace of our march even a little. ‘I thought you were supposed to be the fun one.’
I hear him snort beside me. ‘I am!’ he huffs out. ‘But there’s nothing fun about prison. Look how pretty I am. It won’t go well for me in there.’
He’s not wrong, on either count. Especially with those glasses on. If I weren’t already dead, I’d have fallen down and died the moment he slipped them onto his face. I mean, he was handsome anyway, but this is just another level. Perhaps they’re enchanted. I wouldn’t rule anything out at this point.
‘You’re not going to prison for sneaking into Whitby Abbey, Quinn.’ I slow my pace as we approach the foot of the tall stone walls. ‘If anyone sees us– which they won’t– they’ll just tell us to leave, and we’ll apologise profusely and high tail it out of here.’
He turns to look at me, the moonlight reflected in his eyes. Sometimes he looks so much like Josiah that I can’t bear it. Especially now, with that faint look of fascination on his face. Josiah always looked at me like he was searching for something, and I could never figure it out. Quinn is wearing an almost identical expression now.
‘What?’ I ask, and it brings out his widest smile– the one that makes his dimple pop and sets him apart from the man I loved so much. It’s a smile that manages to be devastating in two opposing definitions at the same time.
‘I like who you are after dark,’ Quinn says, oblivious to the churn of feelings in my chest.
My nose wrinkles. ‘You didn’t like me before?’
He shakes his head slowly, his eyes fixed on mine. ‘No, I did. But I’ve seen a whole new side of you tonight, and I’m into it.’
That hum in my chest is back. He’s looking at me like he can see into my soul, and I’m not sure how to feel about it. The way he looks at me sometimes, it’s like he recognises me. And he didn’t even exist the last time I lived in Whitby, so it can’t be that. I don’t want to think too much about what it could be. It feels a little too much like I’m losing my grip on something that I’ve kept a very tight hold of for a very long time.
Instead, I raise a brow. ‘How’s that dating ban working out for you?’
‘It’s going badly,’ he says through a soft laugh, and then he looks away. ‘Anyway.’ He gestures at the building in front of us. ‘You said you wanted to show me something. Surely it’s not just the abbey. ’Cause I hate to break it to you, but I’ve lived in Whitby all my life. I’m well acquainted with the abbey.’
‘No,’ I say, a knot forming in my stomach. ‘It’s not.’
A rush of panic rattles through me. I’m not entirely sure why I asked if I could be the one to tell Quinn about his blood results. Maybe because I’ve broken bad news to hundreds, perhaps thousands, of people over the years, or maybe it was something more reckless than that, some careless notion of being important to him, even though rationally I know he isn’t the man who promised his life to me on a windswept pier all those years ago.
Whatever it was, I knew I couldn’t bear the idea of someone else telling him.
So I need to do it. He deserves to know.
‘Come on,’ I say, and I grab him by the wrist and lead him into the ruins.
When I first started coming back to this spot I’d have to think about it. I’d count pillars or look for familiar shapes inthe stone. But I know the way without looking now. It’s just muscle memory. I’ve walked this same route thousands of times, sat on the low wall so often that my imprint is visible there– a dip worn smooth in the sandstone.
‘Here,’ I say as I sit down, dragging my fingers across the texture of the stone beneath me. I recognise it instantly. ‘This is the place.’
Quinn frowns. I gesture for him to sit down next to me, but he stays on his feet, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, as if he might need to make a quick getaway. It’s cute he thinks he might outrun me after his performance walking up the 199 steps, even with my power somewhat neutralised.
‘Sounds ominous,’ he says eventually, and the quiet tug of tension in his voice tells me it’s time for me to ease his vulnerability by being vulnerable myself.