“Then we’d better find someone else.”Preferably someone who doesn’t mind a few dozen red flags.
The server brings our order, and while it’s less impressive than the beautiful spread from the restaurant in the Dragonfly Court, it’s allergen-friendly and the portions are huge. Considering I’ve been eating like a bird the past few days, I dive in.
“How is my performance this evening?” he asks, an earnestness to his voice as he leans in. “If I were to date a mortal, would I do well?”
“Yeah, totally,” I say between bites because, honestly, I’m too exhausted and hungry to give him any more attention—and this is the most pleasant night we’ve had together. He beams regardless, and I watch him bite into the appetizer I ordered for us to share. As much as I’m enjoying the honesty, I’m hoping the roasted garlic hummus gives me the upper hand in whatever happens next. Though, I’m still not totally sure of the rules on all this vampire stuff.
“Why did you decide to do it?” I ask. “Like, I understand you thought you were going to save me from a life of misery or whatever, but why? You learned everything from my clothing size to my dietary restrictions. You were lonely. I get it. We met and I was cool and interesting and—”
“Stunning.”
“Okay, yeah.” Flair up or not, I did look incredible that night at the ball. “But what I was going to say was, I was new—”
“That wasn’t it,” he says, cutting me off. “You helped me—I thought that meant you wanted to be together.”
“People just help sometimes…”
“I haven’t found that to be true in anyone—apart from you and Gil,” he says bitterly, his fingers tapping along the table before he stills them around his water glass.
“Then maybe you need more experience.” I cringe, expecting him to reply with something gross and flirty.
Instead, he hums thoughtfully to himself and nods in agreement. The silence that stretches between us is not comfortable, but not exactly awkward either. I eat my food and watch the human couples walk by, holding hands and giggling to each other. Some are obviously on first dates, and others seem like they’ve been together for years.
“We are not going to fall in love, are we?” Magnus’s voice finally breaks the silence.
“Not in a million years.”
“A ‘no’ would have sufficed.”
“Honestly, I don’t think I could be clearer in this situation,” I say, and despite all of this, I laugh.
“Then,” he says, rising from his seat, “the party tomorrow will be our last together. After that, I will say the words.”
“You’re serious?” I shake my head. “Why not break the deal right now?”
“The selfish desire for your company one more night—plus, couldn’t you annoy the court just a little more for good measure? I want to assure that you’re not missed.”
“Fine,” I agree, knowing I shouldn’t. “But you know you owe me, right?”
“I will be in your debt for an eternity,” he says, his lips spread in a genuine smile. The terrible thing is … I believe him.
18.
Moth
Most of our rescue party has relocated to the cabin to watch the slew of comments from Marsha’s cellphone. We tried to convince her to come with us to the castle, but she was firm that she did not “pack any castle outfits” and I was too tired to argue. My flame may be different from her mother, but in some small ways, the apple has not fallen far from the tree.
The tagged photographs are blurry and clearly not Heather, but it has gotten traction which Marsha assures me is a good start. Oak and Clara chat easily with my mother-in-law about things like photography and the internet which I do not understand, while Pepper sharpens weapons that I hope we will not need. It is a full house, though Mother, Holly, and Ruby have remained in Eclipsica. It seems I have become the unwilling host of a disgruntled party—a party that, from the sounds of it, has another guest.
Hurried footsteps rush to the doorway, accompanied by the sound of something being dropped as if we’ve received a delivery, which is odd considering our postal box is at the end of the road. Sprout picks up his head before a loud knock reverberates through the cabin, and I wonder who has joined us this time.
Moving to the door, I open it to see a strange assortment of items that are lined up on our welcome mat. Namely, pepperonirolls and a bottle of green off-brand soda. Strange… similar offerings have been left at my statue in Point Pleasant over the years. They are favored by the locals—including me during my many years in their woods—and it would be a lie to say the familiar scent does not tempt me…
“Don’t freak out!” Chris—the sorry excuse for a hunter—stands a comical distance away from the house. “I’m here to help!”
What kind of help could he possibly offer?
Before I can bear my claws, Rosie leaps into action, racing down the porch steps and toward her brother.
