Page 101 of Bite Marks & Broken Hearts

I sighed. “Go ahead.”

Kit’s fingers drummed against the arm of his chair, his expression unreadable. “I see you’ve gotten ratherattachedto our guest. And I don’t just mean your fangs attaching to his neck.”

“Just a bit.” I grimaced. “I think… I may have gotten attached from the moment I saw him at Wilde Card. So bright. So trusting. Showering attention on that foul demon. Looking at him like he’d never seen true darkness in this world.”

“He’s got an adventurous spirit.” Kit leaned forward. “Lad’s young, Seb. Got wanderlust in his blood. He was telling Rory he means to sail the Atlantic one day. All I’m saying is, he might not stay in London forever.”

The words struck like ice through my chest. I knew all this—I wasn’t stupid, or in denial.

Just a bit lovesick.

Kit’s words about Flynn’s wanderlust echoed in my mind, stirring uncomfortable truths I’d been avoiding. A relationship with Flynn could only end in two ways—his departure or his death.

Humans were ephemeral creatures. Their lives blazed bright and brief, like shooting stars across the night sky. Even if Flynn chose to stay, time would claim him eventually. His golden hair would silver, while I would remain unchanged, forced to watch him fade.

I’d sworn after James never to entangle myself with mortals again. The pain of our separation had nearly broken me. Yet here I was falling into the same trap with a boy who dreamed of sailing across oceans.

A phantom tingle spread across my tongue—Flynn’s blood, tasting of salt and freedom. Perhaps that’s what drew me to him—that wild spirit that refused to be caged.

Time. Such a peculiar master to serve when you’d lived as long as me. I’d watched horse-drawn carriages give way to motorcars, witnessed the birth of electric light. Yet somehow, these grand sweeps of history felt less real to me than the simple movement of Flynn’s hands as he gestured while speaking, the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled.

The curse of immortality wasn’t in watching the world change—it was in watching it remain achingly, beautifully the same. The way lovers still met on rain-soaked streets, the way mothers still cradled their children. Time had stolen so many of my memories, turned five centuries into a fog of half-remembered faces and places, but it had never dulled the sharp edge of loss. James had taught me that.

And now Flynn threatened to make time matter again, to make each second precious and terrifying. To make me count the hours between messages, the minutes between touches, the moments until I might see him again.

“But that’s no reason you shouldn’ttry,Seb,” Kit continued, tone softening. “Seven years I’ve known you, and you’ve never let anyone close. You deserve a bit of happiness, aye? Something normal?”

I barked out a laugh. “Normal? There’s nothing normal about this situation. And what if it doesn’t work out?” The words tumbled out,questions that had been circling through my mind for days. “What if it ends just like it did with James?” The memory of that heartbreak crashed through me—the worst pain imaginable, the rage that followed. “I’ve told you what it did to me. How my mind broke, the weight of eternity alone too much. The senseless slaughter of all those innocent lives.”

“But it’s different now, Seb.” Kit’s certainty caught me off guard. “You’ve got your feet on solid ground. You’ve got Killigrew Street. The way you told it to me, back then you were adrift, nothing to anchor you. James became your whole world. No wonder it destroyed you when it ended. But now?” He gestured around the basement, then leaned forward, grabbing my wrist. “Look what you’ve built here. You’ve made yourself a family. That changes everything.”

“Thank you.” I held his gaze. “Your friendship means a lot to me, Kit.”

“Ach, you’re going soft on me.” He barked a laugh, rolling his eyes. “Course I love you. Wouldn’t have faced that tosser Thrift alone otherwise.”

“How did it go?”

“Got you five casks.” Kit’s lip curled. “Right piece of work, he was. Glad you weren’t there to deal with him.”

“Thanks. I should be able to make them last. I have a feeling the blood I drank from Flynn should keep me going for a while.”

“About that.” Kit leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “You mentioned something about the demon’s mark affecting it?”

“Yes.” I closed my eyes, remembering the surge of power. “It was… extraordinary. Like drinking liquid lightning. Every cell in my body felt charged, alive. The demon magic in his blood—it amplified everything. My healing, my strength, even my senses. I could hear heartbeats from sheep three fields away. I’m still feeling some of the effects now.”

“Bloody hell.”

“Indeed.” I opened my eyes to find Kit studying me intently. “The power of it… I don’t think I’ve experienced anything like it. But it only goes to prove that we’re out of time.”

One grim nod from Kit. “If he’s following a similar timeline to some of the cases we’ve got more data on, he has about—”

“Seven days left.”

“If we’re lucky.”

Kit and I looked at each other, the weight of it hanging between us.

I pushed myself up from the armchair to pull over our corkboard, the squeak against the floor harsh in the basement’s silence.

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