Page 17

“No. I love the way you talk. It’s… different.”

“I see.” But I wasn’t sure if he meant my accent or speech patterns.

Another silence ensued. Ensley took me in with less reservations than the first few times. He shifted his weight, and for a heartbeat, he seemed as awkward as I felt.

“Oh.” He jolted to attention. “I almost forgot. The key to the basement. Bad news. I didn’t find one. But…” Ensley withdrew two business cards from a pocket. “Here are the numbers for a locksmith and that cleanup company I mentioned.”

“Thank you.” His fingers were red from cold when he handed them over.

I studied the cards for a moment before tucking them away.

More silence.

More lingering stares.

I got the sense he was trying to read me as much as I was trying to read him. No matter how plausible, I couldn’t picture him as a hunter.

“Well, only one thing remains on my agenda.”

When he didn’t elaborate, I raised a quizzical brow. “And what would that be?”

“Your phone number.” He smirked, coy and flirtatious. “I was wondering if I could get your phone number.”

“I see. Haven’t you accomplished your task?” I patted my pocket where I’d placed the business cards.

“Yes, but if I had your number, I would be able to call you sometime. Maybe we could… do something.”

I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been on the receiving end of a romantic advance. As a mortal in the 1500s, it was unheard of. Not so today. I’d spent the better part of the last century watching the escalating fight for human rights, for the freedom to love openly. The advancements astounded me.

“I’m afraid I have yet to acquire a device, though it’s on my agenda.”

My answer must have sounded strange. Ensley’s quizzical expression was not one I could interpret.

Technology was not something I’d adapted to. The younger generation, or newly turned, tended to cross those barriers with ease. Those of us who had been around for eons struggled to trust the digital age.

Cristofer thought it crucial that I have a means of communicating and had hence instructed me to familiarize myself with cell phones or at least the internet. Seamus deemed it necessary to facilitate communication, but it relied on me doing my part on this end of the world.

With that thought in mind, and a growing desire to connect with the handsome agent who had come calling, I added, “Could I request your assistance in the matter?”

“You could.” Humor danced in Ensley’s eyes. “Are you busy now? I think the phone place is open until eight. We could grab a bite to eat after if you haven’t had dinner.”

I ran my tongue along my upper teeth, salivating at the prospect. I hadn’t fed since leaving home, and although I often deprived myself for weeks at a time, the urgency was a constant buzz under my skin. Ensley’s invitation reminded me that our requirements were vastly different. We were not compatible in that regard.

“I’ve eaten,” I lied. “But I believe I was promised a tour of your city.”

“I believe you’re right.” Ensley’s grin widened. He stepped back and motioned to the Jeep. “Shall we?”

Acquiring a phone took more time than I anticipated, but with Ensley’s assistance, we landed back in the Jeep by the time the sun had gone down.

Ensley plucked the device from my hand and maneuvered the screens effortlessly before handing it back.

“There. I’m your first contact. Consider me your personal relocation consultant. If you have questions or need help with anything, shoot me a text.”

I stared at the entry. Ensley’s enthusiasm made me smile. “That’s awfully kind of you.”

“Don’t mention it. Now.” He glanced along the street in both directions. “Where to? I’m at your service.”

“You’re the tour guide. It’s me who is at your mercy.”