Chapter 28
Florence | Edinburgh, present day
I think the whole ‘meet the flatmates’ thing is going well, even after the initial pranks by Sadie and Hester, which I was not amused by.
Damian’s pulse has slowed considerably at least. I’m grateful to Elliott for sitting him down on the couch and asking polite, but interested questions about what’s involved in getting dental implants, which is a subject dear to Damian’s heart.
Hester trails after me when I head to the kitchen to make Damian a normal coffee and Elliott a ‘revitalising’ one. She gazes longingly at the blood bag after I pour a little into Elliott’s coffee.
‘We could have “cocktails”?’ she suggests.
But I feel shy about imbibing blood in front of Damian. ‘Maybe another night.’
When we come back, Damian and Elliott are nattering away happily like a couple of old women.
But I note that Elliott is being careful not to give anything away about his past and keeping the discussion firmly grounded in the present.
I know he’s doing it because he doesn’t want to scare Damian.
So it’s going to be up to me to explain that Elliott’s a thrall if he starts asking questions. Oh joy.
Then to my horror, Sadie—obviously wanting attention—drops a conversation bomb. ‘Have you told Damian about you-know-what yet, Floss? He has to decide soon,’ she says brightly and digs her elbow into my ribs.
Damian throws me a curious glance, and I stiffen as Sadie smirks, knowing damn well I haven’t.
A muscle twitches in my jaw, and I’m a hair’s breadth away from biting her.
No, Sadie, I have not told Damian that he needs to choose between having his memory wiped or being turned into a vampire!
So shut the fuck up! I yell at her silently.
The corners of her mouth tilt upward, but it’s not funny.
This is a conversation that needs to be approached delicately because if I muck it up, the results could be catastrophic—namely I’d lose Damian forever. The thought is too distressing to even contemplate.
Hester gives me a sympathetic look and soothing one-to-one telepathy: She’s just jealous, Floss.
Don’t let her rile you. You’ll handle it just fine.
One advantage about Hester having even more powerful mind control than Sadie is that she can cut her out of our mental dialogue anytime she wants to. It drives Sadie nuts.
And she knows she’s doing it too because Hester’s eyebrows are fluttering slightly. Sadie gives us an evil glare, and I can sense she’s about to blurt something Damian’s not ready to hear. So I say to him abruptly, ‘Hey, do you want to come downstairs for a bit?’
Damian blushes bright red, and Elliott sniggers. ‘Aren’t you supposed to be showing him your etchings in the attic?’
‘Yes. Well, an evil witch has commandeered the attic,’ I say stonily, throwing Sadie a ‘don’t mess with me’ look.
I feel bad about dragging Damian away from Elliott when they were getting on so well, but I can’t risk Sadie deciding to take matters into her own hands.
However, as soon as we reach my lair and I shut the door, Damian faces me and folds his arms. ‘What did Sadie mean? What haven’t you told me?’
Oh, damn her to hell.
‘It’s nothing,’ I say hastily, avoiding his eyes and walking over to the fireplace.
‘Floss, whatever it is, please just tell me. Because the fact that you’re not is truly frightening.’ Damian’s voice cracks, and I know I’m causing him unnecessary angst.
Maybe I should choose the memory wipe for him ...
I sigh and sit down, gesturing to the other armchair. ‘Take a seat, and I’ll explain. But you’re not going to like it.’
Wordlessly, Damian sits across from me and waits.
I gather my thoughts. Perhaps if I explain how this came about, he’ll understand better.
‘Soooo you know how I told you that my ex-boyfriend is looking for me?’
Damian nods.
‘His name is Dr Alexander Dryden, and he’s the man who sired me. My human life ended in London on the night of 3 October 1888.’
Damian blinks once and doesn’t say anything. So I take that as a sign I should continue. ‘I ... I did something ... bad ... to him. Sadie was involved too. Thanks to Hester, we’ve been hiding out in Edinburgh ever since so he can’t track us down.’
‘Why thanks to Hester?’
‘As she’s way older than us, Hester’s powers are more advanced.
She’s able to shield me from Alexander’s blood bond, also known as a “sire bond”,’ I explain to him.
‘It acts like a homing beacon, allowing him to find me if he’s within a certain range,’ I add when Damian looks blank.
‘We recently found out that Alexander had visited Edinburgh, so Sadie’s understandably nervous.
I am too. That’s why I’ve been up Scott Monument so much lately—to try and detect if he’s lurking around. ’
I’m talking to Damian as if he’s one of us, and I know this information is probably difficult to comprehend, but he seems to be doing OK with it so far. Or so I think.
‘Right. Um, exactly how old is Hester?’ he asks slowly.
‘Ah, she’s from the mid-sixteenth century.’
Damian gapes. ‘So like the Elizabethan era?’ he chokes out.
I nod. ‘Yes, she was turned in 1560, but we met her in 1921.’
A nerve in Damian’s cheek twitches, and he lets out a slow breath. ‘Jesus H. Christ,’ he mutters. ‘And Sadie? When did you meet her?’
‘In 1921 as well, in Paris,’ I say. ‘But I’d been living there for thirty-three years before we ran into each other.’
‘So what century is she from?’
‘Eighteenth. She was turned in 1758.’
Damian rakes a hand through his hair, his face pale. ‘And this guy, this vampire ex, that’s after you for this thing you did—what about him?’
I shrug. ‘He was always reluctant to tell me his age for some reason, even though I tried to pry it out of him numerous times. But he mentioned the original Globe Theatre a couple of times in passing, so he’s at least as old as Hester.
He’s strong physically. And mentally, he can match all three of us put together, which .
.. Well, we’re just lucky that Hester has her shielding ability that throws him off my scent.
’ I keep my tone light, but it’s too late—Damian’s picked up on my hesitation.
‘So I’m assuming Dryden is the vengeful, jealous type of vampire ex?’
‘Yeah.’
‘How much danger am I in?’
I hesitate, unsure how to respond without adding to his fear. But I have to tell him. ‘Like all the blood sucked from your body and being ripped to shreds—that kind of danger.’
Damian’s face turns ashen, and his eyes widen. He rubs at his temples with both hands, like he’s having an inner mental explosion.
Instantly, I’m in his lap and stroking his chest. ‘Breathe, Damian, just breathe. It will be OK. We’ll do everything in our power so that won’t happen to you.’
He takes a deep shuddering breath, then another.
‘OK. T-thank you,’ he manages. ‘I don’t know why, but I do feel slightly more reassured by that.’
‘De rien, ma chèrie.’ Well, I didn’t spend thirty-three years in Paris without picking up some French.
I snuggle my face into the crook of his neck, and he puts his arms around me with a low murmur of satisfaction, as if he likes me being there.
I cuddle him, transmitting some soothing energy as he processes this new information.
Eventually, Damian reaches the inevitable conclusion because he’s a smart guy. ‘So if you turn me into a vampire, he’ll leave me alone? Is that the decision Sadie was talking about?’
I nod into his neck, hearing his pulse quicken. ‘That’s the theory. You’ll be able to defend yourself at least, and from what I’ve experienced, newbies are strong. Plus with four against one, we’ve got a much better chance if he comes for us.’
‘And if I don’t want that?’
‘Then we’ll give you a memory wipe, including my dental appointment. You’ll never know I exist,’ I say, the words muffled against his chest.
Damian strokes my hair, and I resist the temptation to read his thoughts as he ponders this.
‘It’s a lot to think about,’ he says at last, sounding rattled. ‘I have a job and a family. I have a life. It’s not a perfect life, but at least I know it’s going to end at some point. I’m not sure I’d be able to handle living forever. It’s just too hard to comprehend.’
I attempt to understand Damian’s way of thinking, and I partly get it, but not entirely. My sense of forever is warped. Years race by in the blink of an eye; decades merge and clump together like raindrops sliding down a windowpane.
‘What’s to comprehend? The world changes, and as a vampire, you just change with it and adapt.
It’s not hard to do. You just get on with it,’ I tell him stiffly.
OK, I wasn’t expecting him to jump for joy, but I’m hurt at my boyfriend’s close-minded attitude.
Vengeful exes aside, wouldn’t spending eternity with moi be at least a little bit fun?