Page 94 of Fangs with Benefits

‘Molly, listen to me.’

I shake my head, not wanting to hear it. Hot tears blur my vision and one spills onto my cheek. Elijah makes an anguished sound at the sight. I feel ashamed and embarrassed, my heart is pre-emptively shattering. I have no idea how we got here when just last night we were having a great time after nearly two months of learning each other, of falling for each other.

‘Think about what you’re saying,’ he commands. It’s like when he’s tried to use compulsion on me, but this time he’s trying to get me to hear him through sheer force of will. ‘Think about it. Turning into a vampire isn’t a guarantee, it might not even work and then you’d be dead for real, so that’s the first risk. If it works, you have to live an eternity with no food, no sleep, no rest, no days in the sun–you must drink blood to survive and you will always be hungry. Every human you meet will die, every human you already love, everyone. You’ll never have children, never get sick, never grow old, never feel the urgency of mortality again. You’ll exist as I have, haunting the world instead of living in it.’

Elijah’s hands slide to my neck, holding my face like he does when he wants to kiss me, but now he shakes me lightly.

‘Now tell me, do you honestly want that life? Do you want to be a vampire?’

I’ve thought about this, of course I have. I can’t stop thinking about it. It’s a hazard of finding myself increasingly entangled with a being so diametrically opposed to myself. But I shouldn’t have to decide now, there’s time—

‘Molly.’

‘No!’ I admit in a rush. ‘No, I wouldn’t choose it.’

Tears fall heavily down my cheeks over his thumbs, and I’m torn between wanting to pull away from him and fearing that if I do he will never, ever touch me again.

I grew up with stories of mortals falling for immortal men, being chosen by them before getting to live their eternities side by side, and I dreamed of that. I wanted nothing more than to know magic is real, to experience it, to have it in my hands. And faced with the reality of having it so tangibly, he’s right that the magic of an ordinary life would be devastating to lose.

‘I don’t want it, but I don’t want to lose you, either,’ I say.

Elijah wipes my tears with his thumbs, then pulls me to him. He presses his lips to my head for a long time and I know what this means, know before he does it what comes next.

Elijah pulls away from me, lets his hands drop down my arms, my wrists, my hands, then stands with no lack of visible pain.

‘Elijah, please don’t do this.’

Walking away from me, Elijah stops and turns his head over his shoulder. I try to commit his profile to memory, a dreaded certainty that this is the last time I’m seeing it.

‘I do love you. How could I not?’

And then, he leaves, not once looking back as he goes.

Chapter 33

Molly

At work on Monday, Elijah’s stuff is cleared out of his office, his laptop shut with a note left on top. My face is still stupidly puffy from all the crying I did this weekend, and no amount of cold rolling or eye cream could help this disaster. I won’t cry again and disrupt the layer of concealer I smeared on this morning, but I hazard the risk in reading the note he left on the desk, certain it’s for me.

I used to think it was embarrassing to cry over a man, but I don’t think it’s embarrassing to wish something had worked out, to mourn that it didn’t. It’s human.

I take a stabilising breath and open the note.

Molly,

I hope you get what you want.

In all my years, loving you has been my favourite privilege. Elijah

I read it four times, then fold it and stuff it in my coat pocket when I hear shuffling footsteps behind me.

‘Oh, hi, Molly,’ Ryan says.

I sniffle and turn around.

Remember to smile, dammit.

‘Did you have a good weekend?’ he asks, looking warily at me. I have the sense that Ryan’s not the kind of guy that knows what to do with an emotional woman.