always a vampire, you know,” he blurted, sounding defensive.
Though I didn’t know how to respond, I did relax a little. It was a far cry from, “I want to drink your blood.”
“Honestly, John David,” I began, “I don’t know much about you at all. When you came to lunch, you never said a word.”
“That’s what I want to talk about.”
“Lunch. Or extreme reticence?”
He stepped further into the lamplight. “Lunch.”
“You want to talk about lunch. Okay. I’m listening.”
“Why haven’t I been invited again? Everyone else has.”
“First, some people haven’t even been invited a first time.”
“Like who?”
“Like Thomasin Cobb.”
“He doesn’t count.”
“He doesn’t?”
“That disagreeable little podger. If he didn’t make the best bloody boots…” The vampire sounded exasperated, on the verge of getting worked up. “Thomasin Cobb has never been invited anywhere by anyone in the entirety of his singularly drab and bitter history.”
“Wow. When you get going, it turns out you know how to use your words.”
“Use my words. You mean talk?” I said nothing. “You are being facetious.”
“Guilty.”
The vampire moved so fast that I didn’t see it. He was standing on the sidewalk then he was directly in front of me. Inches away. Having closed the distance in less time than it takes to blink. It was startling and I’m not ashamed of jumping. Or of being very conscious of the fact that he was very tall.
“So. Are you going to tell me why?” he demanded, looking down at me so that I had to rear back to see his face.
My heart was racing, but I remained where I was and struggled to keep my voice even. I was suddenly acutely aware that the town was utterly deserted at that time of night. “John David, you’re scaring me. Do you intend to be scaring me?”
Even in the dim lamplight I could clearly read confusion on his face. He took a step back. “No.”
“Tell me now. Should I be afraid of you?”
“No.”
Taking him at his word, which sounded sincere, a little of the tension melted away from my neck and shoulders. “This is a personal question. So, I hope you don’t mind me asking. Do you have any friends?”
“Friends?” He looked down and away, appearing to be thinking about it for a few seconds. I couldn’t tell if he was trying to decide if he had friends or if he was trying to decide whether to answer the question. “Not anymore,” he said softly, the implication being that they’d died while he’d gone on living. Though he didn’t expound, I got the distinct impression that wasn’t his first choice.
“Would you like to make friends with the people who live here?”
“They’re not interested.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’m not like them.”
“Not like them in what way?”
“Not part of the fae world. Like all of them.”
“I don’t really understand that distinction.”
“Humans see me as I am. I can’t just decide to be something else.”
“Do you see them the way they see each other?”
“How can I know how others perceive?”
“Are you always so philosophical?”
“If you mean, do I see past the guises of fae, the answer is yes.”
“Why didn’t you decide to live somewhere with other, um, vampires?”
His laughter, though mirthless, was beautiful to look at and to hear, but I was again startled because it was so unexpected. “We don’t get along well with others.”
“I see.” I sighed. “You feel left out. You’re lonely.” The lack of denial was confirmation enough. He struck me as the sort who’d be defensive about loneliness if it wasn’t true. “Did you… ever have friends?”
He nodded so sorrowfully that I almost felt grief coming from him in wafts of vibration.
“Do you want to tell me about it?” Again, he nodded. On impulse, I said, “John David. Can I call you John David?” He nodded. “Would you like to have tea in my kitchen tomorrow? You could come at four. I have someplace to be at six, but we could visit for a while.”
He was genuinely surprised. That was easy to read. But I also saw something else flit across his handsome face. Excitement. “Yes,” he said. “Four.”
Just when you think life is becoming routine.
When I reached my door, I turned to see if he was still there. Perhaps he was and perhaps not. I didn’t see him, but I’d learned that vampires are very good at blending into shadows.
The next day arrived with a buzz that I could feel when I stepped into the Hallows. Perhaps Molly’s intuition lessons were doing some good.
Following the voices coming from the workroom, I arrived