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“Well, I’m happy to be of service.”
He leaned in close to kiss my neck. I stayed perfectly still, battling my urge to respond as his lips trailed along my skin. “Good night.”
“Do you really think I’m going to be able to sleep now?” I laughed as he settled in beside me, careful not to touch bare skin to the bedspread. “I just found out that my road-trip buddy can see the future. It’s a bit of an eye opener. I have a question or two.”
“Such as?”
“Where do you come from? How did you become a vampire? How did you discover you could see ‘glimpses’?”
“That’s more than two questions.”
“Humor me.”
“Shall I start at the beginning?” he asked. I nodded. “I’m from Derbyshire. My father was a baronet who took himself very seriously. I was the second son, the spare to the heir, as they say. Almost nothing was expected of me. My job was to remain respectable and wait in the wings in case some ridiculous riding accident claimed my brother, with whom I was not very close.”
“So joining the army was a rebellion against a lack of expectation?”
“Well, Father eventually got over the shock of any son of his engaging in manual labor.”
“Pause for the implied horrified gasp.”
“Obviously,” he said, winking at me in a way that had my insides going all squishy. “After Father got over the shock, he told anyone who would listen that it was only right that I fulfill my familial obligation to the crown. If the aristocracy didn’t step forward to stamp out the upstart colonial agitators, who would?”
“I hate to be the one to point this out, but the upstart colonial agitators whipped your collective British ass.”
“I think you very much enjoy pointing that out,” he muttered. “Anyway, I was sent off with his blessing and with all the pomp and circumstance he considered appropriate. I was a happy soldier. I enjoyed following orders. As the war lagged on, we heard rumors of battalions being picked off from the far reaches of the battlefields, of bodies disappearing from the aftermath while the surgeons searched for survivors. By the time Cornwallis finally grasped that he’d lost, we’d attracted avid vampire epicures, who enjoyed feeding on the wounded in the confusion of battle. When they realized that the war was winding down and their favorite cuisine was leaving the country, they snatched us from the camps in increasing numbers. Myself included.
“I would spare you the details, but let’s just say that my turning was bloody, horrific, the sort of story we tell spoiled, modern vampires who complain about their own rebirth. And I had trouble adjusting to my new life. After so many years of war, you would think that a few more lives wouldn’t matter. But I found that I couldn’t kill again, particularly when I could see the results of their deaths while I fed. Children left without parents. Wives left unprotected and broken. I had to train myself to feed sparingly, carefully. But my gift was very valuable in other ways. It helped me avoid detection by humans, to find the best prey. That became more challenging as the population and its mobility increased. Still, I was able to see more of the world, make a living at a trade, neither of which I had ever thought was possible. It’s been a good life. Difficult sometimes, but a good life.” He looked up at me with a crooked, sheepish grin. “I haven’t told anyone about myself in a long time. Vampires don’t trust their history to humans, as a rule.”
“So why tell me?” I asked.
“Because you shared so much of yourself with me. And because I’m sorry that it seems to hurt you.”
“My life story is not tragic-painful, it’s tragic-embarrassing. There’s a difference,” I told him, much to his amusement. “Sometimes I worry that the reason so many bad things seem to happen around me is that I went against what my parents wanted, like some sort of King Lear–style ungrateful-child karma. I mean, I would have been unhappy going to law school—in some alternative reality where I could actually finish law school. But at least I wouldn’t be so distant from my family. I mean, they’re all huge pains in my ass. With the exception of my relationship with Jason, they dismiss everything I do as just another ‘silly Miranda thing.’”
“What did your parents want for you?”
“Anything but this.” I laughed, gesturing around the room. “They wanted me to marry Jason, stay in the Hollow where they could keep an eye on me. Have babies. Join the PTA.”
“And what did you want?”
“Anything but that,” I said, the words escaping my mouth before I could think too much about how quickly I’d answered.
“And who is this Jason person?”
And I couldn’t but be a little pleased with the hint of jealousy in his voice.
“Way too long of a story to get into now,” I said, yawning widely. “Broken engagement. Big drama.”
“You will tell me about it tomorrow.”
“Yes. Tell me more about you,” I murmured. He complied, and I drifted off to the sound of his voice, smooth and honeyed.
SLEEPING AT THE WHEEL TENDS TO MAKE YOUR PASSENGERS NERVOUS
7
I had sweet dreams of citrus scents and smooth, cool skin. I was rolling on soft white sheets while strong hands kneaded my back, slipping between my thighs to play my body like a violin. I was lost in the sensation of hands sliding over my skin as I floated on waves and waves of pleasure. Every cell of my body was poised for release. Just one more swish of his finger against my little bundle of nerves, and I would scream—“Collin!”
