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"I'm curious. Which authorities would these be? The stolen ancient documentsauthorities?"
His accent is just so superior in its soft Frenchness that I hate him.I reach out to grab the manuscript, figuring I'll just run. Surely he wouldn't chase me like some cop after a bank robber. I get only the corner in my fingers before he pulls itback.
I'm flustered, my cheeks hot. We're standing across from each other, staring each other down, but he's almost a foot taller than me and much stronger, the manuscript in his arms protectively. There's no way I can wrestle it away from him without looking like a complete crazyperson.
"I'm not very happy about this," I say, digging my nails into my palms to control myemotions.
"I can tell, Eve. I'm trulysorry."
I stand there fuming, worried that he won't give it back to me and then I'll never know why the vampire thought my mother should haveit.
"Look, that's sensitive material. I do know that it's supposed to remain in private hands. I don't want its contents becoming public knowledge." I struggle to find the right words without giving too muchaway.
"I assure you that I'll treat this with the utmostdiscretion."
He's being serious now, but I'm just not ready to give in. Maybe I could phone campus security … and tell them what? That some professor of linguistics has stolen my ancient vampire manuscript that I can't admit even exists? I don't thinkso.
Damn. Frustration builds in me. Here I am, just starting my career as a vampire hunter like my mother and I've already screwed thingsup.
"It's just that this is such a valuable manuscript," I say, my voice breaking. "I don't know if I can trust you withit."
His face softens for a moment, and he tilts his head to the side again as if he's feeling real sympathy forme.
"Oh, Eve. So emotional over an ancient manuscript? You're making me feel like an old monster. But I just can't let you take thisback."
He shrugs and raises his eyebrows like he's helpless. He puts the manuscript down on the coffee table and steps towards the door as if he wants me to leave. I eye the manuscript, wondering if I can snatch it and run. I'm a very fast runner, but who knows how fast he mightbe?
"I wouldn't even think of it," hesays.
Damn – am I that transparent? Yes, of course I am. I can't lie. I can't cheat without giving myself away. My mother always said I wear my heart on mysleeve.
I finally give in and push past him, my face hot, determined to just leave without another word and grab my coat from the coat tree but he beats me to the door and closes it with one hand, blocking myexit.
Oh, double damn… This is creep territory. Now, my frustration is replaced byfear.
"You're not going to let meleave?"
He smiles sadly. "Not until I make you forget all about our little meeting. I just can't have you walking around knowing this manuscriptexists."
"What?" A sick feeling comes over me. What does he mean, make meforget?
He steps closer to me, and now that I see him up close, his lips have a slight bluish tint to them. I didn't notice it before because I was trying not to stare at him. He smiles, baring his teeth and his canines are just a little bit longer and sharper than all theothers.
Oh,crap…
He touches my cheek for a moment with the back of his fingers and this wave of emotion goes through me. I close my eyes, dropping my backpack and coat, leaning against the wall for support. It's like he's searching my memories for in the brief seconds he touches me, I am back to that day – the day my mother died and all I can see is her face, the blood frothing at her mouth. When I'm able to open my eyes again, his face is just inches from mine, but it's blurry for my eyes are filled withtears.
"Poor Eve," he says, his voice soft, his gaze moving over my face. "Your first instincts are usually right and you should learn to trust them. I am a vampire, and you should have run when you had the chance. I'm not going to let you have this manuscript. I'm not going to translate it for you, either. I'm going to make you forget about it. Forget aboutme."
* * *
Chapter 2
"Regretfor the things we did can be tempered by time; it is regret for the things we did not do that isinconsolable."
SydneySmith
"You're not Professor Cormier, areyou?"
