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"It's wonderful and terrible at the same time. My kind call it the curse of immortality. To watch people you love grow old and die. Most of us refuse to make connections with humans as a result other than through feeding, but sometimes, you meet someone and you're helpless."
"That's happened to you before?"
"Too often."
"I thought you're a cold-hearted psychopath."
"Not cold hearted."
I sigh and try to play something else but I don't have the heart and stop, folding my hands in my lap. "I'm sorry," I said. "I've played enough."
"Thank you for letting me listen. It's more than I deserve, considering everything."
I shake my head, but don't trust my voice.
"But part of the reason I came was to warn you that if I could find you this easily, so could others – those who want your skills as much as we do. You're in danger and now that I'm not working with you, I feel you're vulnerable. Ed's decent, but he's still just a mortal."
"What can I do?"
"Don't trust anyone besides Starr and Ed," Julien says, his brow furrowed. "Don't even trust them. If you were mine," he says his voice dropping lower, "I'd always know where you were and could protect you."
"If I were yours?" I say. "What does that mean?" But then I remember about blood slaves.
Julien shakes his head as if he's changed his mind.
"It's time to go," he says and stands. "I'd like to say we'll meet again, but I can't. How things will go in the next few days will determine if you can come back to the warehouse."
I don't respond. What can I say?
"Eve, I," he says and then stops as if he's reconsidered something. He leans closer, his face beside my ear, his lips pressed against his bite on my neck. I can't help but respond to his touch.
Then, he's gone.
I return the key to the office then walk to the exit, my knees shaking. One of the guards stands with his back to the door, his hands folded behind him.
So much for protection.
I open the door and he turns and tips his hat. "Ready to go back?"
"He was in the building, sitting right next to me."
The guard’s face drops.
"What?" He pulls out his gun and picks up his two-way radio. "Hey, Bailey – she says he was inside the building. Call in backup. I'll go inside and check. You keep watch over the rear of the building."
He points to the unmarked car. "You better go and sit inside."
I do, knowing this is all just a performance. A moment later, a dark figure slips out the door and down the street.
"I'm going home." I pack my things, stuffing my clothes into my small travel bag.
Ed stands in the doorway, the grey of his rumpled trench coat matching the bags under his eyes.
"We're short of staff," he says. "You shouldn't have gone out."
"Ed, he can get me no matter where I am. I'm going home."
He shakes his head. "Just give us a few more days."
