CHAPTER TWENTY THREE
Ailsa
I WAS WOKEN to the force of something having been thrown at my face. I immediately jolted upright with a groan and threw the object—I then realised to be one of my boots—back at him. He caught it without any effort, because of course he did.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” I gritted through my teeth, blinking the remnants of sleep away.
We’d been confined to this tiny bedsit for two nights now and I was ready to kill him.
I was so damn tired, still not aligned with his stupid sleeping during the day schedule.
I never considered myself much of a sun worshiper, but God did I miss the feeling of daylight on my skin.
Not to mention the lack of personal space was really grinding on me.
I didn’t like sharing anything with anyone on a good day if I actually liked the person in question.
This arrangement, if it could even be called that, was a living nightmare.
He watched my every move to the point where I was pretty sure he even watched me as I slept. I hated it, and I hated him.
“Up! Now,” he roared at me, once again throwing one of my boots at me. It smacked against my side and dropped onto the floor beside me.
He was already fully dressed, already irritable. I didn’t know what the fuck had crawled up his arse last night, and I didn’t want to know, but I wasn’t going to let him continue to get away with treating me like this.
“Can we just take a minute here,” I said, baring my palms. “Would it kill you to at least talk to me like a human being?”
“You’re not human.”
“I—” I stopped, swallowing because he was right.
I wasn’t, and I balked at his blunt reminder.
“You know what I mean,” I scoffed, pulling my clothes on quickly—jeans and a wrinkled top that clung awkwardly in places, everything mismatched and thrown together like I didn’t quite belong in any of it anymore.
“Don’t care. Hurry up.”
He ushered me out, his patience well and truly gone, and onto the rickety rusted fire escape that groaned under our combined weight.
The cold night air hit me immediately and I knew my old self would have felt that chill to the bone.
A fine drizzle hung in the air, clinging to my skin, settling in my hair, the sky above a heavy grey.
“Where are we even going?”
“Just follow me.”
I grunted my frustration and let him lead me onto the roof.
It was flat, gravelled in places, patches of moss creeping along the edges where water had settled over time.
Old vents jutted up at odd angles and the low wall bordering it did little to make me feel safe.
The rain had slicked everything enough to make my footing uncertain, leaving me feeling exposed.
“Why are we up here?” I asked, only to be met with nothing but his silence. He’d already turned away, crouching slightly as he rifled through his duffle bag, pulling something out.
I let out a frustrated breath, dragging a hand through my hair.
“You need to learn how to communicate,” I muttered. “You’d think that after however many centuries you’ve been alive, someone would have told you that before.”
“My skills aren’t the issue here.” he said without looking up. “Yours are. You need to train. You’re useless as you are.”
I blinked.
Taken aback, I bit my tongue. “Jeez, thanks.”
“It’s the truth.”
“You’re an ass.”
“You’re finally catching on,” he said, straightening and clapping slowly, like I’d just achieved something monumental. “Well done.”
I glared at him.
“Now, catch.”
I barely had time to process the words before something came flying at my face. Instinct took over. My hands shot up, and to my surprise… I caught it.
I stared at what was now in my grip. A small, weighted object. A metal ball of some sort.
He was watching me closely now.
“Again.” He threw another.
Faster.
I fumbled this time, almost managing to grab it before it slipped through my fingers, my reflexes just a fraction too slow.
“Again.”
Another one flew.
Where was he even getting these?
“Again,” he said. “Come on, Princess, I know you can do better than that,” he said with a cruel edge to his voice.
I froze.
“I’m not a princess,” I snapped, something hot flaring in my chest.
“Again,”
Another throw.
Another failed attempt.
“No,” I said, digging my heels in. This was pointless. I wasn’t made for speed or agility.
“If you want my help, you’ll do as I say.”
“I don’t want your goddamn help! I don’t fucking need it!
And I never fucking asked for it! I’ve been figuring shit out for myself since I was a kid, me being a vampire doesn’t change that.
You think you’re funny calling me a princess when you don’t know the first thing about me.
My life couldn’t be further than that of a princess,” I scoffed. “Trust me, I don’t need anyone else.”
“Trust me,” he said, tone scathing. “You do need me. I don’t give a shit about your sob story.
We all have one. It doesn’t define us and it sure as hell doesn’t stop us from being killed because we’re too stubborn to accept the hand we’ve been dealt and get on with it.
If you want to live, and I mean really live, you need to become everything you’re capable of.
That doesn’t happen without hard work… or my help. ”
“At this point, maybe I’d rather choose death,” I said stubbornly, crossing my arms. Not that it was even the truth, I didn’t want to die but I also didn’t want to be shackled to him.
He shrugged. “Sorry, death isn’t an option, not on my watch.”
“Why do you care so fucking much?” It didn't make sense. One minute he acted like he loathed my mere existence, and the next he was acting like this.
“I don’t.”
I scoffed. “God fucking help me!” I yelled at him. “You’re impossible.”
“Oh yes, sure, beg for the help of your imaginary deity but refuse mine.”
“Oh, you’re offended now? Didn’t realise big bad vampires like you had feelings.”
“I’m not offended,” he scoffed, like the mere thought was disgusting to him. “I’m fucking pissed off because every little thing is an argument with you!”
“Sorry,” I said sarcastically, dragging the word out. “For not being the perfect little mouldable damsel in distress.”
He inhaled sharply through his nose and ground his jaw. “Just. Try… Okay?”
“Fine,” I agreed. I didn’t actually know why I was fighting him anymore. He’d made some good points.
“Great.”
Another throw.
This time I caught it clean.
Anger had sharpened everything—my focus, my reactions. My body moved without hesitation.
“Again.”
Faster.
Closer.
Relentless.
It went that way for I don’t even know how long. I was breathing harder now, muscles tightening with each movement, every catch sending a jolt up my arms as I adjusted, corrected, adapted without fully understanding how.
“Again.”
“No,” I said, my chest rose and fell sharply as I shook my head. “This is pointless. I’m not built for this. I’m not fast, I’m not… whatever it is you want me to be.”
I tossed one of the objects back at him with more force than necessary. “I’m not you.”
“Okay, fine,” he said, rolling his shoulders like this was all mildly entertaining to him. “Tackle me instead then.”
“What?”
He didn’t elaborate.
“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me,” I muttered, already moving anyway, because if there was one thing I wasn’t going to do, it was miss an opportunity to hurt him—or at least try to.
I lunged.
I was fast, faster than I would’ve been before, but it didn’t matter. He sidestepped me like I was nothing.
One second I was upright—the next, I was flat on my back, the air knocked from my lungs, staring up at the grey sky.
“Again,” he said.
I pushed myself up, glaring. “I wasn’t ready.”
“You were.”
I went again.
This time, I aimed lower, trying to take out his legs from under him.
He caught my arm mid-movement, twisted and suddenly I was spun around, my back pressed to his chest, my own arm pinned in a way that made it very clear how easily he could snap it if he felt like it.
“Balance,” he said, voice low in my ear. “You’re throwing yourself without thinking.”
Then he let go and I stumbled forward, catching myself just before I hit the ground again.
“Again.”
I grit my teeth and resisted the urge to roll my eyes at the word ‘again’.
But fine.
Again.
Every attempt ended the same, with me on the ground or effortlessly immobilised by him while he was barely winded.
But I kept going because somewhere along the line I had begun to want it, I wanted to get the upper hand, win against him.
I tried speed and he countered it.
I tried unpredictability and he read my every move anyway.
I swung, shoved, twisted, lunged, even tried to bite, but every single time he won.
Then he started showing me. Correcting me mid-motion, redirecting my weight. Demonstrating the exact move I’d attempted, but perfectly executed.
By the time we finally stopped, my chest was heaving, my hair damp with rain and effort.
“Done?” he asked.
“For now,” I muttered, wiping sweat off my brow.
“Come on.”
I groaned under my breath but followed him anyway, my legs protesting slightly as we made our way back down.
Down and past our humble abode.
“Where are we going now?” I protested.
No answer.
Of course.
By the time we reached street level, the drizzle had become steadier, growing heavier still as we moved through the narrow streets that grew progressively more crowded the further we went.
Neon signs flickered against the wet pavement, casting everything in distorted colour. Laughter spilled out from doorways, music thumped faintly through walls, and beneath it all, the tempting beating of hearts tried to lure me in.
The capital city as a vampire was… different.
“I thought you needed to speak to your sister,” he said suddenly, glancing back at me, one brow raised.
My eyes widened at his words. “Yes,” I said immediately, not particularly caring if this was another joke or not. I couldn’t take the risk that he was actually going to let me speak with her and fumble my only chance.
We stopped outside a phone box, the glass fogged slightly from the cold, its metal frame worn and scratched from years of use. Without a word, he pressed a handful of coins into my palm and nudged me forward.
“Don’t take too long.”
I shot him a look but stepped inside anyway, the door creaking shut behind me, only to stop short when his weight pressed against it from the outside, effectively sealing me in.
I turned to the phone, fingers hovering a second before I picked up the receiver, the faint hum of the line already there. I fed the coins in one by one, each click echoing too loudly in the confined space.
I pressed each number deliberately until the line rang.
Once.
Twice.
Finally, a groggy voice came through the receiver at the other end. “Hello?”
I visibly relaxed at the sound of her voice. “Hi, Claire, it’s me—”
“Oh, hi,” she said, her voice lifting immediately, warmth flooding through the line.
“I hope I didn’t wake you,” I began, trying to figure out what to say without sounding ominous. It was just past five am in the morning, and while it wasn’t unusual for her to be up this early for work, what was unusual—as in I’d never done it before—was for me to call her at this hour.
“No, no, you’re fine. I just wasn’t expecting a call this early. What’s up?”
“I just wanted to let you know that I’m a bit under the weather at the moment, so don’t be alarmed if you don’t hear from me.”
I glanced out through the glass instinctively, catching a glimpse of Davien’s unmoving form.
“Um, this phone call is making me alarmed Ailsa,” she said slowly. “What’s going on? The truth this time.”
“I’m fine, seriously,” I insisted. “Like I said, just under the weather. I think I picked up the flu from one of the girls at the bakery or something. Sorry I didn’t mean to worry you, I’ve just not been sleeping the best and I had the thought that I could be asleep during the day, and if you tried to contact me, you’d not hear back. ”
I pinched the bridge of my nose. What the fuck was I babbling about? She could read me like a book just based on the tone of my voice. But I went on regardless. “And I wanted to say happy birthday in case I couldn’t make it to your annual birthday lunch. I wouldn’t want to make you sick, you know?”
That part at least was true. I hated that I’d miss her birthday lunch and I couldn’t even guarantee the ability to call her on her actual birthday. I was officially the worst sister, but at least this time it wasn’t entirely my fault.
“Oh… okay,” she said, slowly. Carefully. “Do you need me to come over, I still have the key—”
As predicted, she picked up on my bullshit.
“No,” I interjected. “No, no, that’s okay. I just wanted you to know that you don’t need to worry if you don’t hear from me, that’s all. I’m fine.”
She hummed suspiciously, but—for my sake I suspected—played along. “So you’re fine and I shouldn’t worry if I don’t hear from you.”
“Yes,” I said dragging out the word, fully aware of how ridiculous my request sounded. She probably thought I was with some mystery man.
“Alright, just be careful, okay?”
“I promise.”
“Alright. Love you.”
I closed my eyes briefly, gripping the receiver a little tighter.
“Love you too.”
At the sound of the receiver hanging up I let my head fall against the dial and exhaled. She probably thought I was going insane, but at least I got to hear her voice and know that she was okay. And at least now, hopefully, she wouldn’t be too worried when she couldn’t get a hold of me.
I knew I was avoiding the inevitable, but what was I supposed to do?
Our relationship would never be the same, but I wasn’t ready to let go of her yet.