“Not for all of us.” He shrugs. “The older we get, the earlier we can wake.”
I’m sure I look confused because he adds, “Of course, the sun still weakens and hurts me. That will never change, no matter how old I am.”
“Since we’re on the subject, you never did tell me how old you are.” I can’t believe I didn’t think to ask such a basic question. Going off of his century-long slumber, I just assumed he was around that age, give or take a few years.
“I was turned some time around the eleventh century. During the Crusades, I think,” he says. “It’s been a long time.”
Holy shit. “I’m sorry, but what? The Crusades?”
“Don’t worry. I didn’t participate in the fighting. I’ve never been the self-righteous, blinded-by-faith type.”
“No? For someone who has a poor sense of ‘when not to murder,’ I would have guessed the opposite.”
At that, he chuckles, humor dancing in his eyes. “A battlefieldisa good feeding ground.”
“But?”
“I preferred my blood more…noble,” he emphasizes. Looking at him in the living room, I can see how he would stand out in a crowd. His otherworldly beauty would draw as much attention then as it does now. It isn’t so far-fetched for me to imagine him rubbing elbows with kings and queens, just for him to sink his teeth into their necks later. A shiver passes over me at the thought.
“You do strike me as the scheming type.”
“Do I?”
“Yes, but I’m not so sure that’s a compliment. So don’t take it as one.” Mentally, I chide myself for being so blunt with him. If I say one wrong thing, he could easily go back on his deal with me and find another human. Someone with less bite.
“Duly noted.” He smirks.
Awkwardly shifting from one foot to the other, I try to inch my way toward the hallway. I desperately want to shower. “So, about tonight.”
His eyes light up. “Yes?”
“I was thinking we could ditch the TV shows and get you some clothes that actually fit.” With the time off, I may as well be proactive.
Gray fakes a pout and tugs at his shirt. “After you went to all the trouble of washing these for me?”
“I mean, you’re more than welcome to look like last week’s estate sale special. Just thought you might like something that fits,” I say, crossing both arms over my chest. “Ya know? Something morein-fashion.”
“The answer is yes.” He stands up in a flash of movement. “No offense to dearly departed, Henry, of course.”
“None taken.” I smile, holding up my hands. “I’m going to take a quick shower and then I’ll meet you back out here in fifteen. Okay?”
He nods, red eyes watching me as I go. Once down the hall, I hurry into the bathroom and strip. I’ve never felt so relieved to be alone, out from under his prying eyes. If I had waited any longer, I was sure he would have noticed my squirming. After all, I did imagine it was him at one point, not Dax, stuck between my thighs.
Keep it together, I tell myself as the shower pours hot water down my body.Maybe it was just some lingering effect from his blood.
Yet, even as the thought crosses my mind, I somehow doubt it.
A shower and a forty-minute drive in my Zippy brought us to a quiet strip mall outside the lively city center. A few stores line the block, some closed for the day, but a few still have their lights on. The shop I’m looking for, though, has its little neon ‘open’ sign in the window still lit. I hurry over to it and push the door open, the little bell jangling overhead as both Gray and I step inside. The constant aroma of Emma’s cedarwood incense fills my lungs as I breathe deeply.
The store, Pandora’s Black Box, is one of my favorite haunts. I stumbled across it one day by accident while I was shopping for new pieces to wear to the club. They specialize in a number of things, but their collection of goth-chic is my favorite. It screamed ‘modern vampire’ a la straps, leather, chains, and flashy fabrics.
“We’re ten minutes to closing!” someone shouts from the back. I know who it is before I even see her. The store is owned by two sisters, Jill and Emma, who also happen to be two of my favorite people. Outside of the girls at work, I don’t have a lot of friends, but after I started hanging around enough, the three of us became fast friends. I wanted to hang out with them more, but Ronnie had a roundabout way of avoiding the sisters altogether. It never really made sense as to ‘why,’ but I could guess it was because of the way they encouraged my dancing career when she would have preferred the opposite.
“I know, but it’s an emergency!” I shout.
Emma, who is older than me by two years, and taller by a couple inches, pops out from behind the racks in a deep green button-down dress. She looks annoyed at first, but as soon asshe sees it’s me, she beelines it to where I’m standing. Within seconds she has me wrapped up in a hug so tight it feels like my ribs could bruise from the pressure. Small, but strong.
“Hi!” I wheeze.
