Page 97 of Volik

Pressure builds in my eyes, and I try so hard to keep my tears from forming.

I never thought about it.

None of the articles I’ve read. None of the research I’ve done… No one ever mentioned it.

How lonely it must be to be a vampire.

How isolating.

And for such a long time.

Volik’s brows furrow, and his nostrils flare.

“How old are you?” I blink as I ask him, forcing the moisture to stay in my eyes.

His expression doesn’t change as he answers. “Two hundred and… eighty-three. I think.”

I sniff.

“Nix—”

“When is your birthday?”

He sighs but doesn’t fight me cutting him off. “Spring.”

For some reason, that response comes off as adorable, not sad.

“When is your birthday?” Volik lowers his hand back to my hip, holding me, not pushing me back.

I rest my hands on his shoulders. “Yesterday. I turned thirty. At 12:07.”

His fingers flex against my hips. “That is when it happened. Da?”

I nod.

“Happy birthday.” His thumb rubs a line over the top of my thigh. “You were not hurt, when it happened?”

“No.” I shake my head. “It’s a little blurry if I try to remember the moment exactly. But I was about to take a bite out of my cupcake when something… happened. Which is why I dropped it. Thank you, by the way, for the replacement cupcake. That was nice of you.”

“You are welcome.”

“It’s… kind of a tradition,” I tell him in a quiet voice. “Eating my dessert on the minute of my birthday.”

His thumb strokes that line again as he dips his chin. “I will do that with you.”

My mouth opens… but I just breathe.

His nostrils flare again, and he sits up straighter. “What? Why are you going to cry again?”

“I’m not,” I whisper.

“Da. You are.”

I sniff. “Is that Russian?”

“Da.” He leans closer, until our noses are almost touching. “Tell me. Why are you crying, Flower?”

I slide my hands up the slope of his shoulders to palm the sides of his neck.