‘This is where I was when it happened,’ I start, the memory of it sending a jolt of pain through me, even after all this time. ‘It was about a year after Josiah died, and I started walking when I couldn’t sleep. It was dangerous to come up here alone at night, I knew that, of course, but I’d already lost the love of my life. I thought the worst thing that could happen was that someone would kill me too, and at the time that didn’t seem like too scary a prospect. I thought perhaps they’d put me out of my misery.’
I stop to take a breath and Quinn visibly relaxes. Strange that the story of how I gambled my mortality and lost should be comforting to him, but I suppose I can’t complain. That was the desired effect, after all.
Wordlessly, he lowers himself to sit beside me, his eyes trained on mine. He’s giving me his absolute attention now and God, it’s addictive. I keep talking, hoping it will hold him there. I stifle the urge to reach out for him, to drag my fingers along his jaw, to feel the texture of the scruff under my fingertips. I try not to wonder how warm he is there.
‘I didn’t notice the man leaning against a pillar until it was far too late,’ I say, and I nod to the stone column in front of us. ‘He was up against me in a heartbeat, clutching at me, his teeth at my throat. I don’t remember all of it, but I remember his eyes and the smell of his breath, and the way his nails snagged against the skin of my neck. That’s what I focused on, until I couldn’t focus on anything. Then it all went black. I knew as it happened that I was dying.’
Quinn’s eyes widen, but he doesn’t say anything. Just nods that I should continue. I can’t tell whether he’s afraid or intrigued. Maybe he’s both.
‘I don’t remember the moment I came back. I suppose that’s a blessing. The next thing I knew, I woke up right here, and the sun was so bright it made my skin itch and burn. I didn’t realise what I was, at first. What I’d become.’
‘A vampire?’ he asks softly, though it doesn’t sound much like a question. It’s more of a conclusion.
‘Yeah.’
He nods, looking around at the half-destroyed building we’re sitting in. ‘So you wanted to show me the place where you were turned?’ Confusion raises the pitch of his voice a little and carves a deep groove between his brows.
‘No,’ I say, fishing my hair out of my eyes where the wind has flung it. ‘I wanted to show you my safe place.’
His eyes widen. ‘Your safe place is the place where you got violently turned into a vampire?’
It sounds crazy when he says it like that, but it’s the truth.
‘Well, yeah,’ I say with a soft smile. ‘Because it reminds me that I can survive anything. Even death.’
I see the twitch of a smile at the corner of his mouth. ‘I mean, you’re immortal now, so… presumably youcansurvive anything.’
‘Metaphorically, Quinn.’ I roll my eyes and his smile grows. ‘There’s a connection there now, something that ties me to this spot. It’s like when murderers return to the scene of the crime.’
His smile falls in an instant and I feel the way tension zips him up tightly again. ‘Well, there’s nothing terrifying about you dragging me out to a deserted spot in the middle of the night and talking to me about murderers.’
‘I told you,’ I say as evenly as I can. ‘You’re safe with me.’
He relaxes a fraction but keeps his eyes trained on me. ‘Are you one of those ethical vampires who doesn’t harm humans?’
What’s a diplomatic way of saying this?
‘Usually.’
He flies up off the wall, eyes wide in the moonlight. ‘Usually? Florence, you’re killing me here.’ His mouth drops open, suddenly aware of what he just said. ‘Wait, no. That’s not at all what I meant. Don’t kill me here. That was a terrible choice of words!’
I laugh– I can’t help it. I’ve never met anyone who feels all their feelings out loud in quite the same way as he does. It’s oddly charming.
‘Quinn, stop,’ I say, forcing down my laughter. ‘I’m not trying to hurt you. I’m trying tohelpyou.’
He slowly sits back down on the stone, eyeing me with caution. ‘I’m sorry, you’re just… well, you’re kind of creeping me out.’
‘I’m not meaning to, I promise.’ I flash him an apologetic smile. ‘I’m just naturally creepy.’
He blows a breath out. ‘Normally it’s kind of hot, honestly, but normally I’m not alone with you in the deserted ruins of an ancient abbey.’
I can’t hold back my smile at that. I may be over a century old, but I still regress to an awkward teen stage when a good-looking man tells me he thinks I’m hot, ‘kind of’ or otherwise.
‘I’ll try and rein it in,’ I promise, and that makes him smile too.
‘If you could.’
‘And now,’ I say, gathering my courage. ‘I need you to listen.’