That’s what I smelled on Quinn just now. Buried beneath his own scent profile, the spearmint of his toothpaste, the warm, woodsiness of his aftershave, something he puts in his hair that smells like freshly washed babies, and underscoring it all, something completely, unequivocallyhim.
‘I’m sorry,’ I say, jumping away from him like he’s burned me. ‘I didn’t mean to get into your personal space there.’
He smiles tightly, clears his throat and immediately changes the subject.
‘So…’ he starts, not looking at me. ‘Is this abbey really haunted?’
I want to laugh, but it feels like something is gripping my throat. ‘Probably not,’ I manage. I’m not sure it’s very ethical to give him a definitive no given that the last time we were here, Josiah was too.
He blows out a soft laugh and shakes his head. ‘You’re killing me.’
* * *
The aurora puts on one hell of a show. It’s almost an hour later and we’re lying on our backs in the grass, watching what looks like it might be the tail end of it. The colours are changing, fading almost to nothing and with them the tension between us seems to have faded too, so much so that it lulls me into a false sense of security, and Quinn’s question catches me entirely off guard.
‘What?’ I ask, trying to buy myself some time.
‘Regrets,’ he repeats carefully. ‘I asked if you had any regrets from your human life. Because if this is happening, I want to make sure there isn’t anything I’m kicking myself over ten or twenty or three hundred years from now.’ I hear him adjust his position next to me. ‘I asked you something like this before, but I feel like you were holding back on me.’
I probably shouldn’t say it. Because of course I was holding back. I was trying to protect myself. I should still be trying to protect myself now.
‘Maybe,’ I say to the sky. ‘There are things I never got to do that I fear I may spend eternity wondering about. Things I think might be different.’
I can almost hear his brow furrowing. ‘Like?’
Maybe it’s because it’s a perfect summer evening with the ghost of the Northern Lights still dancing in the sky or maybe because I’m breathing in every complex layer of the man lying beside me, but at that moment, the urge to protect myself feels a little less urgent.
So, I probably shouldn’t say it, but I do.
‘Like sex.’
Never in my life have I witnessed a person go from lying down to sitting quite so quickly. I’m a bit concerned he might have pulled something.
‘You’ve never had sex?’ he says, incredulous. ‘What are you, two hundred?’
I sit up too at that, crossing my arms over my chest and narrowing my eyes at him. ‘I’m 177, and yes ofcourseI’ve had sex.’ I look away. ‘Just never as a human.’
The air between us thickens, time seeming to slow like it’s wading through a swamp. I can feel the burn of his eyes on me even though I’m not looking at him.
‘How aboutwitha human?’ he asks carefully. I shake my head.
‘Also no.’
I hear him blow a breath out. ‘Well, if you need a volunteer…’
I want to laugh at that, but I turn to him in mock horror and slap him on the arm instead. It does nothing to temper the hum in my chest, or the swooping coils of heat that ebb and flow deep in my belly.
I chance a look back at him and am immediately rewarded with a soft smile, with the fading hues of green and pink reflected in his eyes.
‘I’m kidding,’ he says, shifting his position so he’s sitting opposite me. ‘Tell me what the difference is. What’s vampire sex like? Is there lots of biting?’
‘It’s fine.’ I roll my eyes at him, but I can’t help smiling a little too. ‘I don’t know, it’s good.’
His eyes widen. ‘Well,’ he says, stressing the first letter. ‘I’m sure everyone you’ve slept with would bethrilledby that description.’
Ok, I probably could have been more tactful, but it’s the truth. I’ve spent decades chasing the same feeling I had with Josiah, but nothing has ever come close.
‘I mean, maybe it was the people I did it with, or the connections we had, but it always seemed… kind of empty.’ I shrug. ‘Like there was pleasure there, but no connection. Nothing I couldn’t do by myself.’