by Anna Katmore
Hands balled into fists in my pockets, I don’t turn around. I don’t whisper a farewell back, because she can’t hear it anyway. And I don’t know how I’m going to breathe myself through the next few hours if this debilitating pain in my chest doesn’t ease soon.
When I take the road uphill, I suck in deep lungsful of air and look around with every step, taking in the beautiful surroundings one more time. I have a feeling I’m going to miss this place. A lot…
The castle gate creaks as I push it open, and the pebbles crunch under my shoes. I twist the cold knob of the heavy, wooden door and quietly slip inside. It closes behind me with a deep thud that makes my aunt and uncle’s heads snap around to me. Uncle V lounges in the wingback chair with my aunt seated on the armrest. Both of them seem preoccupied with the gray fur ball on my uncle’s lap. Their faces turn skeptical when they see me, then Ellie eases and sends me a soft smile. “Quentin…”
“Sorry, I’m really not in the mood to…” Whatever. With heavy legs, I shuffle across the hall to my casket, which stands open by the fireplace. Silently, I get inside, curl up, and close the lid. Welcoming darkness envelops me and makes me believe that I might be able to cope if I never leave this coffin again.
Until a gentle knock drifts through the wood.
“It’s full,” I mutter, squeezing my eyes shut. But the lid lifts anyway.
The first person I see is my uncle standing by the hearth, arms folded and Sabretooth sleeping perched in the chest pocket of his fresh shirt. His frown promises bullshit, but he’s not the one who opened the coffin. Eleanora kneels by my side. We lock gazes for the shortest moment, and her face scrunches in sorrowful lines as if she can feel my pain.
“That was quite the show. What the hell did you—?”
“Not now, Vladimir,” Ellie cuts off my peeved uncle and speaks to him over her shoulder with all the softness I’m used to from her. “He’s aching.” Then she skims her warm fingers through my hair and sighs with heartfelt sympathy. “Do you want to talk about it?”
My lips pressed together, I hesitate a moment then slowly shake my head. She catches another tear that escapes me and wipes it from my cheek with her thumb. “Did you say goodbye to Abby?” my aunt quietly asks.
I swallow through a throat that feels much too tight. My nostrils flare as my breathing gets a little choppy.
The expression in my uncle’s face changes dramatically from miffed to baffled. “You…and that girl…?” He squats in front of me and braces his forearms on the ridge of the coffin, lacing his fingers. “I didn’t realize you had feelings for her. Why didn’t you say so when you told us about her?”
“He did, darling,” Ellie says in a tender voice and with a knowing smile. “You just didn’t listen well enough.”
Uncle V frowns at her, probably rerunning our conversation from last night through his mind. I don’t know where he might find the truth in there because I certainly didn’t say anything, but Ellie always seems to know more than she lets on.
“What are you going to do now?” my uncle demands.
The only thing I can, of course. “Go home…?” I croak. The deal is settled. I’m undead, she’s alive. There aren’t a lot of options.
Saby wakes to my voice in Vlad’s chest pocket. He struggles to crawl out, balancing on my uncle’s arm until he skips into the casket and presses his flat head to my brow. I shut my eyes and swallow hard.
“And you’re all right with this?” Uncle V asks.
What the fuck? Do I look all right? Grabbing Saby, I pull him to my chest like a stuffed animal and rasp, “Actually, I just want to stop existing.”
“Mm-hmm.” There’s a meaningful pause. “That’s what love does to you.” When I look at him, quietly, and still fighting to keep all the shitty feelings locked somewhere in my personal dungeon, he expels a breath and tilts his eyebrows. “I felt the same way when your aunt rejected me for the first time.”
“Yeah, the thing is, Abby didn’t reject me. She’s human.”
Ellie strokes a hand through my hair once more and gives me another of her loving smiles. “So was I…when I rejected your uncle,” she says, then she gets up, pulls Uncle Vlad with her, and the two of them leave me alone.
Chapter 33
Empty castle
Abigail
Holding his black hoodie to my chest, I watch as Quentin disappears down the road. The doorframe gives my shaky limbs support, while the twinkling stars in the sky create the illusion of comfort. I lean my head against the wood.
It’s over. The time with my secret vampire friend and the unlikely love story he brought to my life. Everything is slipping through my fingers at this very moment. Everything but the small gift he left me with.
I lift the hoodie to my face and breathe in the scent of him. Midnight adventure never smelled so sad.
For an endless time, I stand on the threshold, trying to see something of him in the dark where there’s nothing anymore. Eventually, with a pained sigh, I close the door and go back to my room.
*
I don’t know how I live through the morning. I don’t even know how I made it through the night. Time goes by in a slow, foggy haze. No sleep, no appetite, no desire to do anything but pity myself.
Based on my depressed symptoms, Nana thought I might turn into a wolf after all and made me drink an emergency glass of yellow potion. Until she heard the full story of my grief. Then, she made me raspberry tea to aid in my lovesickness. I don’t believe either worked. All I can think of the entire day is how Quentin lies in his coffin in the cargo compartment of an airplane on the way back to California. He’s probably in his death sleep—at least, I hope. Fifteen or more hours of travel time in such an oppressive vessel would be hell while awake.
Lying curled up on my bed, watching the minutes tick by on the clock on the wall is torture, too. Especially with Quentin’s scent surrounding me, making me believe he’s still here. It’s my own fault. I wore his hoodie all night and the entire morning. It’s just too painful to take it off.
Sadly, I don’t even have Rosemarie around anymore for distraction. The summer suddenly stretches into an endless, empty road in front of me.
When Tinka scratches at my door, I let her in and notice for the first time that only three little toddler cats are clumsily traipsing after her. I lean out and scan the hallway, but the gray tiger is missing. And then a rush of shock hits me.
Goodness, I completely forgot Saby at the castle last night!
While Tinka carefully lifts the kittens by their necks onto my bed one by one, I slip my shoes on and hurry downstairs. “Nana!” I shout. “I’ve gotta go out. Won’t be long!” There’s no time for elaborate explanations. The poor kitten must be heartbroken, left alone in the huge, dark castle.
I run through the garden and down the road. My pace eases a little uphill because my breaths pump like those of a racing horse. Damn, I didn’t realize I’d gotten this weak from lack of food. When the iron gate of the castle’s front garden comes into view, my feet slow to a reluctant walk.
Boy, now I know why I didn’t want to come back here after everything that happened. Just seeing the huge, dark castle makes my heart twinge. My hand trembles on the gate. Before this summer, I’d been in there many times while it was empty. Now it’s the one thing that makes me hesitate. I don’t know how I will cope with being inside without Quentin there to welcome me.
Out of a strange new habit, I use the rapper on the door, but I don’t wait for an answer that I know won’t come anyway and just slip inside. The hall is empty, Quentin’s casket is gone. I leave the door wide-open because, apart from some waning embers in the hearth, the space is dark. The fire must have been burning until this morning when they left.
“Saby?” I call out, waiting by the entrance. My heart is in my throat. It would be so much easier if the cat just came running so we could leave. I really don’t know how I can enter this place and not break into tears with so many intense memories…
With a deep breath for encouragement, I cross the threshold. The familiar smell in the hall catches me by surprise and makes my heart sting. The echo of my footsteps sounds lonely in the silence. Slowly, I move past the fireplace and stroke my fingers along the mantel. This will always be a magical place for me. The place where we started a fire together. And a special friendship, too…
Closing my eyes, I can still feel Quentin’s hand skimming down my arm that day. My throat tightens and my eyes mist, so I shake off the thought and move on. The thick candle still sits on the small table by the wingback chair. Along with something else.
With eyes narrowed to slits, I draw closer. There’s a folded piece of paper taped beneath the empty plastic box from Nana. My forgotten sunglasses lie next to it. My chest suddenly rocks with my too-fast heartbeat. Reluctantly, I pull the note out and open it to find two lines in elegant, loopy handwriting.
Thank you for the pie, Abigail. The cat and I really loved it.
Vladimir D.
A shudder travels down my back. It leaves me with a thick layer of goosebumps. This is so creepy, getting addressed by the infamous vampire prince himself. The paper almost slips through my fingers because they’re shaking so hard. He knows my name, he knows who I am, and I’m bloody sure he can find out where I live the moment he lands at the airport in L.A. if he wants to. And then do gruesome things to me for what happened in this castle last night if he wants to.
Except he won’t, because Trayan made sure of that with an indisputable deal. And the note doesn’t sound angry. Not as if he told me he’d come and find me while I’m asleep to suck the life out of me.
Right. Because he can’t enter your house, Abby. He’ll just sit in a tree outside your window and wait until you leave. Crazy pictures form in my head, and the first tiny smile of the day curves my lips. I pocket the note and plan to give it to Nana later. After all, she’s the one who made the apple strudel that delighted the legendary count so much.
I pivot and let my melancholic gaze swipe across the hall. Sabretooth still doesn’t appear from any dark corners. What if he isn’t in the castle anymore? Quentin loved him. He could have made the butler take him with them as they left.
Or the kitten could be asleep in one of the upstairs rooms. I think it’s the hope that hugging Saby will ease my longing for Quentin just a bit that makes me cross to the stairs and slowly ascend with one hand on the rail.
It’s darker up here. The curtains are still closed, and the dim light from the smoldering embers downstairs doesn’t quite reach the landing. The door to the master bedroom at the end of the corridor is open. I’m just about to head there when a soft rustle downstairs stops me, and I zoom around. Swallowing hard, I grip the railing and lean over, scanning the hall. But it is only a gentle summer breeze blowing some leaves through the front door. They perform a sad and lonely dance on the cold stone floor.
As I watch them come to rest in the middle of the hall, my throat constricts again. I don’t want to shed these tears, I really don’t, but they refuse to be contained. My aching chest trembles with a quiet sob as I dab the droplets away. God, I miss him so much…
When something flickers down in the hall, I first think it’s just more leaves swirling in. I have to wipe my eyes and blink a couple of times before I actually realize what it is. The candle. On the small round table.
It’s burning.
Frozen by the railing, I stare down in utter confusion. How in the world—?
And then, two gentle arms wrap around me from behind. A thousand shivers race through me. Good shivers, shocked ones, and those that wake a flock of bats in my stomach. Familiar hands slide down my forearms and then lace through my fingers. I can feel his body at my back, his gaze on me, and his breath on the side of my face. Immobile, I start to shake really badly in his embrace. My knees turn to pudding. It’s a miracle I’m still able to stand.
Quentin nuzzles my temple. “Hello, Abigail…”
I squeeze my eyes shut and draw in a choking breath. His voice, his touch… I was so sure I’d never have any of this again. Ever. “I thought your family wanted to fly home today?” the hesitant words come out on an ugly rasp.
“They did,” he says softly into my ear. The warmth of his body seeps into me.
“And why aren’t you with them?”
Down below, the embers flicker with new flames, lighting the entire hall up to us. “Because I’d rather stay here and spend your vacation with you.”
I squeeze his hands with trembling fingers because this sounds too good to be true.
“In that time,” he continues in a soft voice, “we can figure out if this thing between us is real and growing…” With our fingers still laced, his arms tighten around me. “Or if you want to impale me at the end of the summer.”
A smile takes over my face. That won’t happen. “But I thought you didn’t want this because it’ll make parting so much harder?”
Quentin kisses the spot behind my ear. “I don’t plan to.”
My eyes narrow at the burning candle down in the hall. “You don’t plan to what? Part?”
“Right…” His mouth wanders down the column of my throat, stopping every half inch for another gossamer kiss. “I plan to keep you, Abigail Potts.”
“You do?”
“Mm-hmm.” Gently, he tugs at my hand to turn me around in his arms until I gaze up into gorgeous blue eyes that take my breath away. There’s a warm smile on his lips, but it falters the moment he sees the tears on my face. His eyes narrow a tiny bit as he wipes them away with his thumbs. “Forever…”
How can he look so serious when speaking about something so impossible? “How?” I croak.
Gently, he hooks a wisp of my hair behind my ear. “By changing you into a vampire.”
My chin drops as utter shock roots me to the spot. Slowly, I lift my hands to cover the sides of my neck. Quentin chuckles as he peels them from my throat and laces our fingers again. “Not right now, Abby.”
No? Then when? I still can’t speak and just stare at him, agape. So he explains, “I had a long conversation with my uncle last night. It seems there’s an unpredictable alpha wolf on your home island that someone better keep an eye on.”
He couldn’t confuse me more. “You’re going to Scotland?”
“England…” Quentin leans his forehead to mine. “I don’t need to be that close to the wolves.”
I barely get my next words out. “Where exactly?”
“I heard Norwich is an interesting town to check out.”
When he brushes the tip of his nose across my cheekbone, I close my eyes, just enjoying the tender caress. “And how long do you intend to stay there?” I whisper.
“Mmm…I thought a couple years for starters.” He nibbles my earlobe. “Maybe until you finished college.” When he sucks on my lobe a little, it sends tingles all through my body. “It should be long enough for us to find out if we really make a good match. And it’ll give me time to get you comfortable with the idea of immortality.”
I swallow. “You really are serious about this.”
Quentin inches back and captures my eyes with his gaze again. Then he gives a very small but honest nod and shapes his palm to my cheek. “You don’t have to decide anything right now, Abby. Let’s just go on this adventure together and see where it takes us.”
Endless seconds tick by, and all I can do is gape at his face as he inches closer, never breaking eye contact.
“So…what do you think?” he whispers.
My heart flails inside my chest, and the bats in my stomach go crazy at the prospect of spending so much more time with Quentin. But, eternity? Hell, my knees buckle at the thought. Then again, nothing has been easy since the first day we met. I’ve seen fights, blood, coffins, shifters, and was introduced to the real Count Dracula… And still, here we stand. Together.
“A few more years to think about it sounds like a good plan,” I eventually mur
mur as I move my hands up his chest and to the back of his neck. Then, a sudden, hopeful grin stretches my lips. “And, in the meantime, we can even try to find a way to make you human again instead of me turning into a bloodsucker.”
Quentin lowers his arms and wraps them around my waist, pulling me really close. “Whatever you want, little warrior,” he drawls. “As long as you don’t start experimenting on me with garlic.” His brows tip into a cute V. “Or knock my fangs out.”
“I would never…”
The roguish smirk on his lips warms my heart, right before he molds his mouth to mine, sealing the beginning of this new adventure with the sweetest kiss. Languidly, his tongue drags against mine. Once. Then Quentin leans back and smiles. “By the way…” He nods to the side. “When I move, my buddy needs to come, too.”
Tracking his gaze to the spot on the floor next to his feet, I find Saby sitting there, looking up at us with hopeful eyes. I break into a soft laugh then rest my head against Quentin’s chest and expel a happy sigh. “You know what?” I say, loving how tightly he holds me against him. “I think it’ll be perfect.”
Chapter 34
Woolen socks
Abigail
Since I got out of bed this morning, with my excitement hiking, I’ve cleaned up my room, baked cookies, wiped the kitchen, put sweet little somethings all around the house, and even changed the old-fashioned curtains in Nana’s bedroom to pretty white ones with small roses on them. After a quick shower in the late afternoon, I slump onto the sofa, but then I spot a dead spider in the corner and run to get the vacuum cleaner. Ah, what the heck, can’t hurt to hoover the entire floor.
The spider is gone, but I haven’t done even half of the room when the power switches off, and the noise stops abruptly. Confused, I turn around and find Nana by the plug socket, the cable of the vacuum cleaner dangling from her hand. “My dear,” she says with a frown, “if you keep running around the house like a headless chicken, you will lay an egg before he comes.”
