Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
FLORENCE
On the surface it seems like such a simple question. Why don’t I date humans?
The answer, of course, is far more complicated.
In reality, I haven’t actually dated a human since I was a human.
Losing Josiah the way I did carved a hollow out of my chest I was never quite sure how to fill.
It was a pain so deep, so unwavering, that I couldn’t let it go.
When I was turned, I thought perhaps it would heal, that I would be as untouchable mentally as I became physically. But that wasn’t quite true.
I’ve since heard from fellow vampires that any ailment they had prior to their change was carried with them, and it turned out to be true for me.
I carried that heartbreak with me long after my heart stopped beating, to the end of my life and through to the next.
But years went by, and then decades, and slowly, so slowly, it finally began to fade.
It got to the point where he wasn’t the first thing I thought of in the morning, nor my last thought before I went to sleep.
There was just a dull ache underscoring everything I did, only catching slightly on the occasional mention of a name that sounded like his, or a glance at the spot on the beach where he took his final breath.
‘It’s because of me, isn’t it?’ Josiah mutters, right next to my ear.
I had just about moved on, and then he started to speak to me.
And yes, it’s because of him.
Truth be told, it took me until I was twenty-three to fall for someone in the first place.
Growing up as I did, I was well acquainted with death.
As a child, I had a front row seat to the worst moments of people’s lives.
I saw, over and over again, how people – ordinary people – were torn apart by losing people they thought they’d spend the rest of their lives loving, and I vowed that I would never make myself vulnerable like that.
If I never gave anyone my whole heart, I reasoned, then it would never break.
But Josiah caught me off guard.
He’d been in the background my whole life, but for most of that time he’d been nothing more than the youngest son of Thomas Quinn, the grocer who owned the shop across the street.
I didn’t pay much attention to the scruffy boy, a year older than me, who helped his dad out in the shop sometimes.
I’m not even sure I ever made eye contact with him in all that time, because once I did, I couldn’t look away.
It was nothing like the silly crushes of my teen years that I’d found so easy to ignore. This was instantaneous – a shot arrow that landed cleanly in my chest. When it happened, I couldn’t push that feeling away. It would have been like trying to ignore a house fire.
And when he died, that same fire burned my heart to ash.
There have been humans who have ignited a spark in me since him, of course there have. But I’ve been careful enough to dampen the flames before they could amount to anything.
Quinn shifts against me, and all of a sudden I notice the warmth of his body where it presses against mine. All of a sudden there’s something new smouldering in the pit of my stomach, something warm and unpredictable.
‘Have you ever met someone you thought was your soulmate?’ I ask him, and he pauses for a few moments before shaking his head.
‘I don’t think I have,’ he says quietly.
I don’t expect that, knowing what I know about him, knowing how easily he falls in love, knowing he at least loved someone enough to marry them.
‘I have,’ I say, forcing down the knot in my throat.
‘And he died a few weeks before our wedding.’ Quinn’s hand tightens on my shoulder, such a small movement that I’m not entirely sure he can have noticed it.
‘I don’t know that I could bury someone I love so completely again.
It would break my heart. Maybe beyond repair. ’
He’s silent for a while before he turns, brushing a soft kiss to the top of my head. ‘I won’t break your heart, Florence,’ he says, and there’s gravity to it, a weight to his voice that tells me he absolutely believes it.
The problem is, I’m not so sure I do.
* * *
‘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 what you missed 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 I was human.
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 had centuries to 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.