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I exhale, closing my eyes for a beat.
One in a hundred billion.
Just my luck…
Or my lack of luck, rather.
Fuck, fuck, and more fuck.
“But if I remember correctly,” Edmond continues in a gentler voice, “the other situation involved a man who’d been turned about a year prior to being with his human wife again. They’d waited to make sure he wouldn’t lose control and accidentally hurt her, and he hadn’t been pleasuring himself in the meantime. So, it was the first time he’d…arrived since he became a vampire. It was the early nineteenth century so not many tests were performed, but the doctors theorized that perhaps the sperm was viable for that reason. It was the last bit of live ammunition, if you will, leftover from his time as a human. But in good news, the baby was fine! All human, with no vampire tendencies aside from a love for hiding in dark corners and jumping out to scare his mum, and what child doesn’t enjoy a dark corner now and then?”
“You should have said something,” I say, my voice thinner, weaker, than it was before.
“I’m sorry, brother, but why would I? We haven’t turned anyone in decades and the rest of us have been vampires for a hundred years or more. Why on earth would I think that there was a soul among us who hadn’t lain with another person at least one since then? Vampires aren’t known for their abstinence.” He meets my narrow gaze and doubles down, “And yes, I know you’re a hermit, but even hermits have hands and needs and moments alone in the dark.” His eyes widen. “Please, friend, don’t tell me you’ve denied yourself even that small comfort. No creature—man, beast, or anything in between—should have to suffer that sort of deprivation. It would be like living without air or water.” His expression softens with empathy as he adds, “Or love.”
I spin with a roar, slamming my fist into the tree’s massive trunk and regretting it immediately. Not only do my knuckles feel like they’re going to explode, but I knocked loose a bit of bark, exposing the tree to possible infection.
“I’m sorry,” I say, laying my hand over the place I damaged. “I’m so sorry. Please…forgive me.”
I’m talking to the tree, but I’m thinking of Annie, of the woman I love, and how I’ve wronged her.
And all because I insisted on suffering above all else.
“I’ve been a fool,” I choke out, cringing deeper into my clothes as Edmond lays a hand on my back.
“You have,” he says. “But you’ve seen so much darkness, friend. It’s understandable that you got lost in those shadows and forgot the most important part of going through hell.”
“What’s that?” I ask, still not turning to look at him.
“When you’re going through hell…keep going,” he says. “Winston Churchill.”
I lift my head, the words vibrating deep in my bones.
Keep going…
Suddenly, I’m reminded of what Catherine would say to Amelia when she fell off her pony while she was learning to ride. “The past is the past, darling. The only way it can hurt you is if you carry it around in your pocket. Let it go, love, and get back on your sweet little horse who loves you madly.”
Eyes squeezing shut, I press my fist to the center of my chest, right above my aching heart.
It’s as if she’s right here, standing next to me. I can hear her voice so clearly, in a way I haven’t been able to for so, so long. And in that moment, when she feels as close as my own skin, I know that she’d want the same for me. She wouldn’t want me to carry the past in my pocket, especially not such a painful, tragic past as ours.
She would want me to gather my courage and finally rise from the grave. She would want me to go to Annie and be there for her the way I was there for Catherine during both of her pregnancies. She would want me to love and cherish my new daughter with all my heart, to lavish all the love I wasn’t able to give our girls on this precious new soul.
Loving again won’t be a betrayal. It’s the best way to honor the family I lost, to show them that no matter how hard things get, love is worth fighting for.
Maybe the only thing worth fighting for.
“I have to go to her.” I turn to Edmond, fingers curling into fists at my sides. “I have to make this right.”
He nods, relief clear on his face. “You can and you will. She’ll understand and forgive you. No doubt in my mind. She’s a lovely woman and kind to the core.”
Tears sting into my eyes again. “She is. And clever and funny and brave. I…I adore her.”
Edmond laughs and slaps me on the back. “Yes, I see that. Love really does turn saber tooth tigers to kittens, doesn’t it? Between you and Darcy both going soft, I think the rest of us better steer clear of the Wonderfully women. We’ll need a few men with their fangs still in fighting shape if someone really is planning a hostile takeover.”
We start back down the walk toward the opposite end of the street. I wandered farther than I realized, but the Wonderfully mansion is only a few blocks away. We’ll be there soon, but there’s still enough time to share my theory—and my fears—with Edmond.
I quickly fill him in on my suspicion that the demons who’ve infiltrated the town and the entity that stole the Blackmore mansion plans from my cabin are two separate bad actors. “I won’t know for sure until I return home to see if the book in question is still on my shelf, but my gut says they aren’t related.”
