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But when Blair's glamour lifts, things don't go at all as planned.
I'm sitting at the foot of my bed, watching in awe as her eyelids flutter open and she pushes herself to a sitting position. I don't talk first because I want to give her the chance to. She might not remember much of what happened in Salem and she might have questions. Or she might want to thank me for saving her life at the last minute. But the very first thing that comes out of her mouth is an accusatory question about a life IthoughtI had long since left behind.
"Why didn't you tell me that you used to be athief?"
I feel like someone has popped my balloon with a five-inch pin. All of the eager, anticipatory excitement I felt about telling her my feelings is gone, replaced by the weight of my past.
"What, no thank you for saving your life?" I joke, trying to lighten the mood.
"Thank you," she says without emotion.
The mood is sour; I don't feel like I can admit my feelings to her anymore. But she does deserve an answer to her question. I need to be honest with her, especially right now when things are fragile, and I'm trying to rebuild the trust that I broke.
"Did the vampires in Salem tell you about that?"
"Yes," she answers. "And I was shocked. I'm not quite sure what to believe about you anymore."
"The situation in Manhattan was grim," I explain. "And I wasn't stealing because I was selfish. I wanted to bring some cash into the pockets of the poor. Right there in the center of Manhattan—a city of glamour and elitism, werethousandsof people living on the streets."
I pause for a second to gauge her facial expression; her scowl is gone, so I continue.
"The wealthy citizens walked right past these people, and the politicians ignored them and continued to line their pockets with more money than they could use in a lifetime. All I did was steal some of it and disperse it to the people who needed it. I never hurt anyone. I just tried to help."
Eventually, Blair cracks a small smile. "So, you were kind of like a vampiric Robin Hood?" she teases.
I laugh, glad to see she doesn't hate me after all.
"No, I'm definitely no hero. Ienjoyedbeing a thief. And not just because I helped people. I liked the actualthieving. I liked it a lot more than being a clan leader. I miss the rush of adrenaline that came with taking dangerous risks. I liked the element of danger. It kept me on my toes and made me sharp. Being a clan leader feels like babysitting."
I expect her to be completely turned off by everything that I've just told her, but surprisingly, she isn't. Instead of criticism or judgement, she asks a lot of questions.
"What is Manhattan like?" she asks, scooting closer to the end of the bed . "I've never been, but the things I've heard about it make it sound like a fantasy world. How many people live there? Are there as many supernaturals as there are in Boston?"
"More," I answer honestly.
I answer all her other questions as best as I can, and when she asks me why I came to Boston if I miss my old life so much, I tell her the truth.
"I wanted to get away for a while, so people would forget my reputation. But when I got to Boston I realized that my reputation didn't really matter. The only thing that mattered was that I was content with my life."
"And right now, you aren't," she says. "You don't like being stuck in this place and this position, and that's partly my fault. That's why I went to Salem, to see if I could find a replacement for you. So you could be free again."
She went to Salem alone and almost got kidnapped…forme.
Now that we're talking again, I want to discuss what happened at the party. I take the time to explain myself thoroughly, and to emphasize that flirting with that vampire was nothing more than a ploy to distract everyone from Blair's and my disheveled states. This time, she believes me. She admits that she was hurt by what I said, and I apologize wholeheartedly. And finally, she looks like she's forgiven me.
"Now what are we going to do?" she asks.
We talk for a long while about what we could possibly do to correct this situation without causing any new problems. I don't want to remain clan leader, and she makes it clear that she doesn't want me to either.
"Mostly, I just don't want to see you so unhappy," she says. "But I also don't like it when you're surrounded by so many people who are all watching you and trying to influence you. I don't like that we can't spend time together like we used to."
"I agree." I don't add that this was all her idea; she doesn't need it rubbed in her face. "But what are we supposed to do about it? The vampires need a leader, and there doesn't seem to be anyone else who can do it."
"We can widen our search," she suggests. "Until we find someone. There has to be another royal vampire out there somewhere who wants to have their own clan to lead. And Boston is a great city to live in. Surely there's a vampire out there willingly to move here."
"I'm sure there is, andeventuallywe'll find them. But I'm not sure I want to waste weeks, months, or evenyearslooking for that person. Do you?"
"No." She shakes her head. "But I'm not sure what else to do. It's not really a position that you can juststep downfrom."
