“And what would you say?” The way he said it, as if her opinion were of the utmost importance to him, sent another wave of heat through her.
“Every time I’m too close to you, I lose the ability to think straight.”
He leaned forward, the clink of his glass on the table in front of them a little louder than it should be. And then he closed the gap between them, sitting close enough for their legs to touch and twining his arm around her. His hand, gliding under her hair and coming to rest at the nape of her neck, threatened to drive her mad with desire.
“I would say both are accurate,” he whispered, his lips mere inches from her ear.
His thumb massaged slow, methodical circles on her neck, making her want to demand more, for she knew Kenton held back. Unleashed, she could only imagine what this man was capable of.
Alessandra knew that if she turned her head toward him, even the slightest bit, he would kiss her or she would kiss him.
“So why exactly did you excuse us from my friends?”
Kenton’s incessant thumb did not relent.
“To talk,” he claimed, although his tone said otherwise. “And friend, not friends.”
She dared inch her head sideways, just a tad.
“Pardon?”
His eyes twinkled, the mischief in them unmistakable. “Toni is your friend. Tyler is not. And your assessment is quite accurate. The man is an asshole.”
Her eyes widened.
“But you already knew that.”
His thumb stopped moving. Kenton’s hand tangled into the hair at her nape, gripping just the slightest bit harder.
“Just as you know exactly why I asked you over here.”
Lord help her.
She could lose herself in him. But Alessandra wouldn’t give him everything if he intended to give her nothing in return.
Nope. No, thank you.
Taking a deep breath, she stood her ground. “We can’t do this.”
His fingers dove deeper into her hair.
“I disagree.”
Cocky Englishman.
“You’re holding back, Kenton, and you know it. You waltz into town and turn my life upside down. But instead of giving me an explanation, you give me evasions and partial answers.”
His fist closed, her hair inside.
“Do you truly want it all, Alessandra?”
Their faces nearly touched.
“I do.”
When he pulled her head toward him, she thought for a moment he’d kiss her. Damn if she didn’t want him to despite what she’d said to the contrary. Instead, he used his nose to nuzzle a tendril of hair away from her ear. “You, my love, are Cheld,” he whispered, “and I am the one thing your kind despises above all others.”
Her heart hammered wildly.
“Thing?” she whispered to the air as Kenton buried his head against her neck. His lips tickled her ear, they were now so damn close.
“I am a vampire.”
Chapter 15
Not wanting to scare Alessandra, Kenton released his grip on her hair and eased back, moving ever so slowly. Lawrence’s eyes had been on him all evening, and judging from the look on the man’s face, he understood what had just happened.
Though he hated to do it, Kenton shifted away from Alessandra. She needed space to think, to process. Any second now—
She laughed.
Until she realized he did not laugh with her.
“What did you say?”
He knew that look well. He’d revealed himself enough times over the years to be prepared for what was to come next.
“I said”—his eyes never left hers—“I am a vampire.”
She stood so fast her knee banged the table in front of them.
“Sit back down,” he said, keeping his voice steady. She likely wouldn’t listen, but he had to try.
“You tell me—”
Placing his finger in front of his lips, Kenton willed her to remain calm. The fact that she’d already begun to accept her own abilities should help her accept the truth.
“What do you sense?” he tried, realizing she was more likely to rely on her own instincts than his very tenuous word. “Forget about the Cheld for a moment. Just think about everything that has transpired, Alessandra. Am I telling you the truth?”
She shook her head, unable to accept it.
“I can’t—”
She fled.
Kenton let her go, for now. As soon as she left, her hair swaying behind her in her haste, he strode toward the bar. Giving Lawrence a courtesy he didn’t deserve, for no other reason than the man would likely follow him otherwise, he spat out, “I told her.”
Hands flat on the bar, Lawrence leaned toward him. “What the hell are you doing, Kenton? When the two-week agreement is over—”
“I don’t give a shit about the agreement.”
“We won’t leave her unprotected.”
He supposed centuries of hunting, and killing, Alessandra’s kind would not be forgotten in a matter of days. Fair play.
Kenton leaned over the bar, even though the closest patron sat too far away to hear them. “If I were going to kill her, she’d be dead by now, and you know it,” he whispered.
“Then what do you intend? Your brothers—”
“I’ll handle my brothers. And I didn’t come over here to ask permission.”
Lawrence smiled at him in a maddening, condescending way. “And yet here you are.”
“I came to tell you not to come after us. Tell her friend she’s fine.” Toni hadn’t noticed she was gone yet, but he knew it was only a matter of time.
He started walking away, but Lawrence called out his name. “Kenton.”
As he looked back, his cold heart skipped a beat. The man whose sister-in-law had made them into monsters smiled, actually smiled, at him. What the hell was he so happy about?
Ignoring the grinning fool, he left the bar and went after Alessandra. He found her on Main Street, closing in on her house. Grateful his instincts had been correct, he walked up to her from behind.
She didn’t flinch.
“You knew I was coming.”
Alessandra was settling into her abilities, and her mind and body were finally agreeing that the impossible was, in fact, very real. She seemed remarkably calm given the circumstances.
“This simply can’t be happening.”
She spoke to herself more than to him.
“I mean, vampires aren’t real.”
He could disagree, but she required no response.
“They’re not real,” she repeated.
He wondered if she knew how fast she was walking. Alessandra needed to keep moving. Placing his hand on her back, Kenton guided her past her house. And then dropped his hand.
Bloodlust had long since abandoned him. Only the newest vampires felt it, and Kenton had not been newly turned for centuries. But he could still hear Alessandra’s blood pounding through her veins as adrenaline coursed through her body.
They walked the entire length of Main Street, ending up in the town square. They stood there for a beat, watching drunken patrons stumble from Murphy’s Pub on the corner. An empty gazebo sat in the middle of the square, and beyond it, a steam train sat silently. It looked like a postcard image advertising small-town life.
Running her hands through her hair, Alessandra moved toward him.
“I can’t . . .”
Reaching up to lift her chin, Kenton looked into her eyes, his gaze never wavering.
“Yes, you can. You’ve accepted the impossible already, walked here in half the time a normal human being—”
“Oh my God.”
“—could possibly walk. You are Cheld, Alessandra. If trained, you have the ability to be as fast, and as strong, as I am. When vampires are near, your abilities will come alive, as needed, as they’ve done since Lawrence and I came to town.”
Her eyes widened. “Lawrence?”
“A vampire.”
Her mouth opened but no sound came out.
She was ready.
Dropping his hand and opening his mouth, Kenton extended his fangs. To her credit, Alessandra did not faint. Retracting them—that brief glimpse of horror was enough for now—Kenton closed his mouth.
“I . . . I have questions.”
His chuckle must have startled her, likely because Kenton simply did not chuckle.
“I would imagine that you do.”
Two of Murphy’s patrons stumbled past them. “Yo-ho, fellow pirates!”
Some things didn’t change over the centuries. There had always been drunken fools, always would be.
“Come on,” he said, leading her toward the train station. Two gaslit lanterns hung on either side of the platform. Sitting on the bench, he encouraged Alessandra to do the same. She did so, keeping a healthy distance between them once more. Then, tucking one foot under her leg, she turned toward him.
“You’re a vampire.”
He nodded.
“Does that mean you drink blood?”
Kenton pointed to where his fangs had been. “That is precisely what these are for.”
“Where? Where do you drink from?”
He pointed to his wrist. “Here primarily. And rarely”—his fingertips touched the jugular vein in his neck—“here. Though it’s not common for most. Doing so is considered intimate . . . almost erotic.” He stopped short of explaining the reason it was rare. After they’d been turned, before learning to control their senses, feeding from the neck left them vulnerable and was something to be avoided.
“And you kill people.”
He’d lied to her more than he’d liked and wouldn’t lie to her about this. “Occasionally,” he said, watching her reaction. If Alessandra were not Cheld, she’d be shaking with fear by now. That she was not underscored how dangerous she was, especially to him.
And yet he sat here, answering her questions as if this were a casual conversation.
“On purpose?”
“Always.” He clarified, “At first, it was not so, but I learned to control my hunger. That has been the way for all of us.”
“So it’s possible to drink someone’s blood without killing them?”
“Yes.”
“Then why do you kill people at all?”
That was one question he would not answer.
“Are you worried I will kill you, Alessandra?”
She didn’t flinch. “No.”
The conviction in her answer sent a surge of pleasure through his body.
“You cannot die,” she correctly surmised.
He smiled, amazed it had taken her so long to get there.
“I was born in 1245 in Northumbria, just south of the Anglo-Scottish border, to the Earl of Rockford. At the age of thirty, I became”—he gestured to himself—“this.”
“You look pretty good for your age.”
That she could joke at this moment made Kenton want to dispense with the Q&A session and pull her onto his lap.
“Thank you,” he said instead, a smile tugging the corners of his lips.
“But you . . . I’ve seen you in sunlight. And you can eat!”
Here we go.
“Most of what you think you know about vampires comes from nineteenth century literature. And most of it is not true. I can walk in the sun, although not into your home uninvited. But mirrors, crosses, and garlic don’t bother me in the least.”
“Consecrated ground?”
“No problem.”
“What about all of the other vampires? Like Vlad the Impaler?”
A common question.
“A ruthless leader, bloodthirsty to be sure. But not a vampire. Though others have made themselves known, usually inadvertently, throughout the ages.”
“Can you have children?”
“Yes, but it’s rare. They result only from mating with humans, and most of us avoid such entanglements.”
“Holy shit. This is unreal. How about wooden stakes?”
And this was where they would stop. He would not give a Cheld the means by which to kill him.
“Let us just say we are harder to kill than you’ve been told. Especially me.”
Alessandra cocked her head to the side. “What do you mean?”
When Kenton had decided to tell Alessandra the truth, he’d contemplated lying to her about this one thing. Instead, he found himself telling her everything, leaving out only such details as were necessary to protect his brothers.
“My family are among the first vampires in existence. As such, I have grown stronger and more disciplined with age. Other vampires would find it difficult to kill me.”
“Family? Are you saying your family is still alive?”
He tried to ignore her nearness.
“Relatively alive,” he amended. “I have two brothers, though my mother and father were turned at the same time as well.”
He didn’t elaborate, and Alessandra was too polite to ask. He’d already told her his parents were dead.
“You said yours was one of the first. So Lawrence’s family was turned at the same time?”
He had just over one week until his truce with Lawrence was over. He knew what would happen then—Lawrence would share his secret about the relationship between his family and the Cheld, and the dark intentions that had brought him to Stone Haven. If there was any chance for Alessandra not to despise him when she did learn everything, this was his chance. Better to tell her the truth himself than to have someone else do it for him.
And yet, he found he simply could not do it.
He offered another truth instead. “Yes, Lawrence’s family and ours were the original two,” he said. “His father was once clan chief, although Lawrence took that title after he died. Just as I became an earl. His brother and sister are also still alive.”
As Alessandra tried to work out all of the details, he added, “I had the great pleasure of living just across the border from his clan, Clan Karyn—”
“And you have been enemies ever since.”
“And even before. In the borderlands, before the Border was drawn, both sides laid claim to estates that had changed hands for many years. Some, like Bowden Castle where Lawrence lived, were as English as they were Scottish, and vice versa. Most of us could hardly trace our origins—”
“And so you go on, year after year, fighting about whose property is whose.”
“Something like that.” Kenton sat back and crossed his legs and arms. He wouldn’t tell her anything further about their origin, and Clan Karyn’s involvement in it.
“And so you came here, to Stone Haven—”
“When we learned you were Cheld. Most of your kind know of their ancestors. They are trained and taught by their elders.”
Alessandra looked up to the sky, her gaze resting on the quarter moon above them.
“I suppose I would have been if my father had been raised by his parents. So,” she said, glancing back at him, “you were born in the Middle Ages and are an earl.”
“Technically speaking, yes.”
“Wait, am I . . .”
“You are not immortal, Alessandra.”
Taking her lower lip into her mouth, she continued to think about what he’d told her while he continued to stare at her mouth.
“Just one more question. And then I want to show you something.”
She said it with such conviction, Kenton wasn’t sure if he should be nervous or excited. Courting a Cheld was uncharted territory for him.
“Shoot.”
“Can you turn someone into a vampire?”
That was an easy one.
“Yes, I can.”
“Can you turn me?”
Chapter 16
If she wanted to become a vampire, Alessandra would be shit out of luck. Because the look on Kenton’s face could only be described as horrified.
“I mean, if I wanted to become one. Which I don’t.”
He didn’t look convinced.
“I was just curious whether it could hap
pen. Me being Cheld and all.”
Finally, it seemed to sink in. It was a ridiculous question, of course—something she did not fail to realize. This whole thing was preposterous. Utterly unbelievable. And yet . . . Alessandra had known it to be true before she saw his fangs. Though she could tell he was still holding something back from her, she was absolutely certain Kenton was a vampire.
“I don’t know,” he finally answered.
“How is that possible? For centuries we’ve supposedly lived side by side—”
“Even so, it’s never been attempted. That I know of.”
That made no sense.
“Why not?”
“There are not so many of your kind that it would be a forgone conclusion a Cheld would want such a thing. It is, after all, a curse.”
“To live forever?”
Didn’t seem like such a curse to her. But she could see there was little point in saying so. Instead, she reached out and grabbed his hand. “Come on.”
When he wound his fingers through hers, Alessandra led him beyond the platform to the train tracks.
“This railway was built along the river in 1917. There’s a pretty amazing view, with the town on one side and the mountains on the other. Stone Haven was a coal mining town once, and this used to be a gravity train used to haul coal.”
Realizing she was babbling on about history, something she tended to do when she got nervous, Alessandra stopped narrating as they walked down the tracks.
Until a fresh understanding of what his revelation meant stopped her short.
Holy shit.
“You lived through all of it.”
“Through what?”
“Everything. You lived through everything. Kenton, do you understand what this means?”
His lips twitched. “That I’ll be spending most of our time together answering questions from my curious history professor?”
Time together.
My professor.
She tried to tell herself it meant nothing, that a vampire who’d lived so long couldn’t possibly have anything but a passing interest in her, Cheld or not, and yet . . . she couldn’t help but smile a little as she began walking once more. Finally, they came upon it.
“There it is.”
The caboose. Alessandra ascended the stairs on the green and yellow car and looked out into the blackness.
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