Page 25 of Just for a Taste

“Yes, it did,” I replied, tilting my head at him with a smirk. “Didn’t plan what you were going to say this far, did you?”

“No,” he grumbled, blushing. “I didn’t.”

Finally, my laugh broke free as a giggle. “That’s okay. Why don’t you tell me about what kind of music you would play right now? To capture the night, I mean.”

Instantly, he brightened. “Hmm . . . let me think. While I do, let’s walk down.”

He headed down the path, and I followed closely behind. An owl in the distance hooted loudly, which I took as an invitation to continue. It was a gravel path, slightly downhill, which wound back and forth through stone pines as we descended into forested land. The trees were massive and ancient, with moss climbing at their bases. Thick underbrush—a combination of grasses and flowers—tickled my ankles. Duca de’ Medici held the lantern at a distance in front of him, illuminating beyond the path. At the sight of it, small animals skittered away audibly, occasionally letting out an annoyed squeak or chirp.

After a few minutes, Duca de’ Medici finally spoke. “I think,” he said, “tonight’s song would be Liebestraum No. 3, Notturno.”

I sped up a bit to walk at his side and make eye contact, despite the narrowness of the path, but he continued to look straight ahead. “I’ve heard that before. By Liszt, right? It’s very pretty if it’s the song I’m thinking of.”

“It is quite beautiful.”

“Why did you pick it?”

He halted, truncating our conversation. “Ah, here we are.”

The path beneath us tapered off, overtaken by downy grass. The invisible line it followed curved over a hill, with a small pond at its base. Trees encircled us with such breadth that the hill still felt open, and the sky was in full view. With the moon full and close to the earth, our lantern could have easily been snuffed, and every blade of grass and drop of dew would have still been visible. Light even radiated over the edges of the water, the surface of the pond rendered into an impression of the sky above.

“What is this place?”

Duca de’ Medici continued beyond the path without me and found a flat area. “I think it was once a graveyard, based on the inlaid stones, but the names have all faded by now. I have Signore Urbino keep the grounds here maintained, just in case.”

“It’s beautiful.”

Duca de’ Medici knelt to the ground, then his face twisted. “Ugh. I neglected to consider the rain.”

I folded my skirt under my legs and crouched closer to him. “Well, the ground isn’t muddy,” I observed. “Just wet.”

“And now so is my ass. But at least yours won’t be. Here, lie down.”

In a swift motion, he undid his jacket and swept it over the ground to form a makeshift blanket. After a moment of hesitation, I did as I was told.

Beneath me, the jacket was soft, dry, and still warm. I tried to hold my breath so I wouldn’t get overwhelmed by the intermingling smells of cologne, suede, and the vampire himself, but when Duca de’ Medici opted to lay with the tops of our heads touching, that became impossible. Accepting my fate, I extended my legs to get comfortable, then quickly recoiled. The weather may have been warm, but the grass was cold and uncomfortably damp.

Despite his calm demeanor, the vampire was trembling.

I turned my attention from terrestrial to celestial. There was nothing comparable to the sky in places like this. Even in the mountains where I grew up, there was more light pollution than here, where the heavens were not solely blue or black, or any single color. Instead, they were fresco ceilings of infinite depths and shades, stippled with gold-and-silver clusters, distant galaxies marbling beyond comprehension.

The soft sound of Duca de’ Medici’s breathing brought me back to earth. “Do you know any constellations?” he asked before I could say something.

“Um.” I searched my memory but found nothing. “Just the Big Dipper and Little Dipper.”

“Ah, brilliant!” Even without seeing Duca de’ Medici, I could hear the smile in his voice. “So you won’t know the difference if I make it all up, and I can impress you immensely for once.”

Hewanted to impressme?

“Pfft. Of course I’d know the difference! I may not know where the constellations are, but I know the myths they’re based on.”

“I’m aware,” he replied with a sigh. “You’ve been checking out so much in ancient Greek lately, and I’m terribly rusty.”

“I guess I didn’t think about that.” I felt my face flush. “Aren’t you tired of all this old stuff? Like you said, I just stay in that little section.”

“Forget I said that, please,” he responded, firm but not harsh. “Read exactly what you wish to. Nothing else.”

Feeling a strange mixture of comfort and more vulnerability, I tucked myself into his jacket. “Okay.”

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