touched the locket’s smooth surface. “That’s not why I wear it. I’m not trying to keep him with me. It’s a reminder... of what I did. I turned him. It’s my fault his parents died.”
Reece grabbed my hand, squeezing it hard. “No. It’s not. You didn’t do anything wrong. You were trying to save your friend. Don’t beat yourself up over things in the past you can’t change.”
“That,” I said, “is exactly what I’ve been saying to you.”
“Touché.”
His lips twisted in a sheepish grin so adorable I nearly leaned down and kissed him right there in front of the doctor and orderlies.
“How about we both follow your excellent advice and let go of the past? We can make a new life here. It won’t be what either of us planned on... but it could be good.”
“You’re right,” Reece said, taking my hand. “You’re absolutely right.”
18
No Pleasing Him
The injections were working.
With each passing day, Reece seemed more himself. His memories were returning along with the color in his complexion and the vitality in his eyes. My visits stretched longer and longer, taking up the bulk of my nights.
We sat in our chairs on opposite sides of the bars, talking for hours about our past lives, our families and friends, the books we’d been reading, and the latest Bastion gossip. I had never spent so much time alone with one person—or revealed so much of my true self to someone.
As Reece improved, so did I. Helping him recover made me feel useful. It gave me a reason to get up every day—or night, rather.
And spending time with him made me feel like I could stay here in the Bastion and make it my home, despite Imogen’s brutality and chronic disappointment in me.
Tonight though, Reece was irritable and cranky. There seemed to be no pleasing him. Every book I started reading to him was either “boring” or “silly,” and when I tried making conversation, he literally yawned.
Irked by his rudeness, I closed the book in my lap with a loud clap and stood. “I guess I should be going.”
His fleeting look of surprise was replaced immediately with a surly pout.
“Yes. You should. You must have something better to do than hang out here all the time.”
“Yes. I do actually,” I snapped. “Lots of things.”
Truth be told, I didn’t.
As I’d declined Imogen’s offer to be her protegee, I’d been trying out the different jobs available at the Bastion, hoping to find one that was a good fit for me.
Nothing had worked out so far. The things I had experience with—cooking, gardening, taking care of livestock—were completely useless in the vampire world.
And there was definitely nothing I wanted to do more than be here with Reece. But I certainly wasn’t going to tell him that visiting him was the best part of my day—not when he was acting this way.
“Give me that first,” he practically growled. “I’ll read it when you leave.”
He shoved a large hand through the bars, waiting for me to place the “boring” book in it.
When I did, our fingers touched. There was an audible hiss as Reece inhaled sharply.
For a moment we held blistering eye contact. Then he broke it and jerked his hand away as if he’d touched a hot pot. He stepped away from the doorway, scowling.
“What’s the matter? Have I done something wrong?”
He shook his head. “No. I’m just anxious for some news about when I can leave.”
“Oh.”
I was stung by his unexpected harsh tone and apparent aversion to my touch.
Why was he so different today? What could have gotten into him?
Maybe it was my imagination that we’d been growing closer day by day, but I didn’t think so.
“Well... I’m sure it won’t be much longer.” My own tone turned petulant. “And if you’d prefer some different company, I can ask my friend Kannon to stop by and talk to you. You probably don’t remember him, but he’s the one who found you and brought you back.”
Reece’s expression clouded. “We met. Earlier tonight.”
“You did?” That was a surprise. And why hadn’t Reece mentioned it before now?
“What’s wrong? Didn’t you like him?”
“He’s a peach,” Reece said with a sneer.
“I agree. He’s been nothing but kind to me. So what’s the problem?”
“I don’t want to make friends here, Abbi. I don’t want to make a new life here. I want to leave. I don’t belong here. Neither do you.”
“Oh really. Where do we belong then? If the outside world was so great, why did they find you living like an