* * *
‘I’ve been thinking,’ I say, an hour or so later. ‘About the human things you think you’d miss.’
We haven’t gone far. We’re sitting on a big rock at the foot of the cliffs, watching the tide gradually pull the waves further from the shore. The wind’s dropped a little now, and the sky has cleared, giving us the perfect view of the stars. I haven’t heard Quinn speak for a while, maybe ten minutes or so, and God help me, I miss the sound of his voice.
‘You remembered whatyoumissed yet?’ he asks from beside me, not taking his eyes off the constellations that burn millions of miles above us.
I ignore his question and try, unsuccessfully, to hide my smile. ‘Maybe you could show me?’
He turns to me at that, brows knotted. I don’t know if I’ve ever known such an expressive human being in my life. ‘Show you how?’
It came to me in that consultation room as I looked between Quinn and Cam. ‘You teach me about the things I’m missing in this life, and I’ll show you what you can expect in the next.’
He’s silent again for a few moments, but I track every emotion that runs through him, from his initial confusion to the curiosity that replaces it, and then on further, until his barely parted lips curl into a smile. ‘You want to take me on vampire dates?’
I huff to conceal my laugh. ‘I don’t know that we’ll call them that.’
It only makes his smile widen. ‘I’ll remind you how to human and you teach me how to vampire. I like it.’ He bumps my shoulder lightly with his and I feel the sparks of the contact even through our clothes. ‘Who’s first?’
‘You,’ I say, ‘since you’re the ticking time bomb.’
‘Jesus, Florence, sugarcoat it, why don’t you?’ He clutches a dramatic hand to his chest. ‘I thought you were supposed to be a nurse.’
‘I’m a phlebotomist,’ I correct, ‘although I have worked as a nurse in the past. Also trained to be a doctor, once upon a time.’
He chuckles lightly. ‘Did they not have bedside manner lessons in those days?’
I want to smile, but I don’t. I push him off the rock instead.
When he gets back to his feet, he can barely breathe for laughing. ‘Ok,’ he says, brushing sand off his jeans. ‘I deserved that.’ He holds a hand out for me, and when I take it, he pulls me to my feet too. ‘Come on,’ he says. ‘Let’s get you home.’
I conveniently forget to let go of his hand, even when we’re climbing the steps off the beach and following the Khyber Pass up to East Terrace. His skin feels blissfully warm against mine, soft in places and rough in others. It’s probably not a good idea, holding his hand like this, but I can’t help myself. There’s no one around to see us now, anyway.
I do register how dangerous it is, thinking like that, but right now I can’t find it in me to care, not when we climb the final set of stairs to my road, and not even when Quinn leans lightly in my doorway, staring down at me like he wants to eat me whole.
‘Have you decided where you’ll take me first?’ I ask, and though I notice a bright flare of want in those blue-green eyes, his grip on my hand doesn’t tighten at all.
‘Maybe,’ he replies, his voice thicker than usual. It might be tiredness, or maybe something far more dangerous. ‘I’ll message you.’ He half smiles as he pulls his phone out of his pocket with his free hand. ‘On this, I mean, not via pebble or carrier pigeon or whatever.’
I try not to smile back, but I can’t help it. It’s like I’m possessed, taken over by some spirit who doesn’t remember why I’m not supposed to be doing this.
‘Ok,’ I manage. My voice sounds strange, high and tight, like my throat’s a little too tense.
But if Quinn notices, he doesn’t say anything. Just mutters, ‘Bye Florence,’ and presses a gentle kiss to my knuckles before dropping my hand and disappearing into the darkness.
I feel that kiss in every cell of my body, including some I thought were long dead. It’s like a rushing feeling, almost like a heart beating too fast, the faint memory of a pulse I haven’t reliably felt in a long time.
There’s a part of me that wonders how those lips might feel elsewhere on my body, but I try not to think about it too much. In truth, I’ve never had sex with a human, not even when Iwashuman. It almost happened once or twice with Josiah, but we held back, waiting for a wedding night that never came.
I’ve done it since, but only ever with vampires, and sex with vampires feels… well, it feels empty. It’s the silence in our bodies, the stillness under our skin. I suppose there’s a chance I’ve been choosing the wrong vampires– after all, convenience is not exactly hot– but every sexual encounter I’ve had since Josiah has left me wanting.
Annoying, as some of them have hadcenturiesto practise.
I climb the stairs to my little flat and flop dramatically down onto the bed. The horizon is just beginning to lighten, a new day waiting in the wings. I should sleep because I’m working in a few hours, but I’m not sure I’ll be able to. My ears are buzzing and there’s something fluttering in my chest, close to my heart.
I know I should resist this feeling, this pull towards Quinn, but none of my usual tricks are working. The more I try to quieten my thoughts of him, the louder they shout. I thought I was drawn to him because he reminded me so much of Josiah, but I’m starting to realise that isn’t the case at all.
Because when I close my eyes and try to will myself to sleep, the only thing I see is that damn dimple.