I fumble with my bag, pull out the oversized cotton throw that I packed for entirely this purpose, and drape it over my head and body until it covers me completely.
It’s a few minutes before I hear Quinn’s deep chuckle beside me.
‘Florence, what the hell?’
A few moments pass. I can almost feel his eyes on me through the cotton.
‘Over the face, too? People are going to think you’re dead.’
I scoff. ‘Iamdead.’
There’s that laugh again, the one that’s halfway to a wheeze. It makes something tug at my chest, down deep in a place I thought was lost.
‘You hate it,’ he says gently.
‘Yes,’ I reply. ‘But I’m showing solidarity. I mean, I do wish you’d roped in your human friends for this one, but I’m here now.’
Another soft laugh. ‘I thought you were supposed to be reliving your lost human years?’
‘I didn’t do this then either.’ Something lands on my face– a seagull maybe– and I hear him shoo it away through the cotton. ‘This may shock you, but I was an indoor pursuit kind of girl.’
‘Needlework and reading?’ he teases.
I huff a laugh. ‘More like potions and dissection.’
‘You’re a weird one, Florence,’ he says and I can tell by his voice that he’s smiling.
The funny thing is, even in this fiery hell, I am too.
* * *
It must be half an hour later when I hear him clear his throat beside me.
‘Um, Florence,’ he says, a little panicked. ‘I think we need to go.’
That makes me sit bolt upright, the throw pooling at my waist. A few of the people near us on the beach look over, light concern on their faces. I probably look like a re-animated corpse. I suppose, in essence, I am.
Quinn looks at me wide-eyed and thrusts his forearm towards me. His skin there is flushed pink, angry patches with obvious hives starting to form in the centre. ‘This is what happened before,’ he says quietly. ‘But it was never this bad.’
I trail the gentlest of touches over his skin and snatch my fingers away when he winces. ‘It’s sore to the touch?’
He nods.
‘Sorry.’ It looks similar to the burns I get from the sun, but it isn’t exactly the same. There’s a chance that it’s presenting differently because the systems in his body are still largely human. ‘Have you got sun cream on?’
‘Of course,’ he says, lowering his voice. ‘That’s vampires 101. I borrowed Emmy’s factor thirty.’
‘Thirty?’ I honk out a laugh before I can stop myself. ‘That’s about as much use as throwing an ice cube onto a wildfire.’
The look on his face is downright heartbroken and I’m about to apologise for my thoughtless remark when he suddenly grabs my wrist, his eyes widening.
‘What if it’s already happening?’ There’s real hurt in his voice and it affects me more than I would have expected. ‘What if thisismy last ever day on the beach. How many lasts have already happened without me even realising?’
My heart leaps into action– a single beat that shakes me to my core. But it also gives me an idea. I jump up, stuffing my things into his backpack so I can entirely fill my own canvas bag with sand.
‘Come on,’ I say, holding a hand out to him. ‘Let’s go.’
I try not to make eye contact with anyone as we hurry off the beach together, but it’s mid-afternoon on the hottest day of the year so there are peopleeverywhere. I can feel their eyes on us, and it makes me squirm. The quicker we’re off this beach, the better.