Serafina and the Silent Vampire - By Marie Treanor Page 0,119
and every night. Live with me here.”
Her heart beat and beat. “But I need the flat at Serafina’s,” she blurted.
His lips quirked. It wasn’t quite a smile. “And the real reason?”
She opened her mouth, smart words already bubbling to the surface.
“Truth,” he said harshly.
Sera closed her mouth, swallowing the sudden lump in her throat. They’d saved each other’s lives last night, had done things they shouldn’t have been able to do because of sheer feeling. She couldn’t ignore that; she couldn’t run from it. Something peculiarly wonderful happened to her with Blair, and whether or not she fled in the end, they really did owe each other truth.
Without meaning to, she sank into a crouch by his chair. “You move too fast, Blair,” she whispered. “I didn’t know you a week ago.” And you’re a vampire. The unspoken words hung between them, a justification and an accusation. “I don’t know you now. Jesus, you’re three hundred years old. I feel as if I’ll never know you. I thought I had you pegged: a hedonist with odd, charming flashes of conscience, and then I saw stuff, and Phil told me stuff, that made me realize—”
She broke off as his fingers tangled in her hair. The ache grew stronger. He said, “We both hide. Don’t you think the seeking might be fun too?”
“Wanting to die isn’t fun!” she burst out.
He held her head steady as he gazed into her eyes. “I don’t want to die,” he said deliberately. The words echoed around her mind, seemed to seep into her body, spreading warmth and pride and something powerful she began to recognize as happiness. She, Sera MacBride, had made a difference—and such a difference!—to this amazing being. Unable to speak, she turned her face into his hand and kissed his palm. She’d never heard his telepathic voice so soft and intense. “It’s a dark place I’m never going back to… Sera, do you love me?”
Did she? Scary, exciting, beautiful thought. She’d never imagined she could feel like this for anyone. It hadn’t even crept up on her. It had hit her like a thunderbolt, shaken the foundations of her life and passions, and God help her, she liked it.
She wasn’t blind to the gift of Blair’s honesty. The ache inside her that was at least half gladness grew stronger. “I don’t know,” she whispered. “I’ve nothing to compare this with.”
“But I’m not history.”
She smiled into his fingers, then covered them with her own and rubbed his hand against her cheek. “Oh no,” she murmured. “You’re not history.”
His lips curved into a smile. Her breath caught all over again, so before she threw herself into his lap, she released him and jumped to her feet, setting the neglected cup back down on the table. She needed to move, to run all the way to Serafina’s just to release the emotion that seemed ready to burst inside her. It was either that or end up back in bed with Blair. She had the feeling whole weeks of her life could disappear like that if she let them.
“I have to go,” she said breathlessly, and under his knowing, predatory gaze, she walked quickly toward the door, where, struck with an idea, she stopped and spun back toward him.
“Blair, would you consider a job at Serafina’s? A sort of special consultant?”
His eyebrow twitched, betraying surprise. Then, contemptuously: “I don’t do jobs. I’m a vampire.”
Of course. It shouldn’t have hurt. Like all men, he just wanted relationships on his own terms. She nodded as if it didn’t matter—which it probably didn’t—and left the room. The gloomy hall allowed in very little daylight, only a fine line under the front door.
“Sera?”
Already grasping the door handle, she glanced back. He stood, leaning his shoulder in the sitting room doorway, watching her. His face was unreadable.
“Yes?”
“I’ll consider it,” he said and walked back inside.
Not like all men at all. Not like any being she’d ever encountered among the living or the dead. And suddenly, that too was part of the fun. She found she was grinning like an idiot as she threw open the door to greet the day. She leapt down the steps in one stomach-churning bound and landed among a group of startled kids on bikes. Sera laughed and waved to them and ran all the way to Serafina’s.
THE END
About Marie Treanor
Marie Treanor lives in Scotland with her eccentric husband and three much-too-smart children. Having grown bored with city life, she resides these days in a picturesque village by