Page 119 of Bite Marks & Broken Hearts

Padre Rodrigo stays with me now, has not left my side since it was done. He speaks of pride, of divine purpose, of my great destiny. His hands never leave me—my shoulder, my arm, my face. He says we will be bound together, forever. That none will understand me as he does.

I feel ill. The room spins. He brings me wine, insists I drink.

God forgive—

The entry ended abruptly there, the pen having scored a line across the page.

I flicked to the next page to find it empty, and the next, for the rest of this volume. “What happened after?” I asked, though the violent slash of ink across the page told its own story.

Seb’s hand was still in mine. When I looked up, his face had that distant quality it got sometimes, like he was staring through time itself.

“That was my last entry as a living human,” he said quietly. “The memories after… They’re like trying to catch smoke. Impressions. Feelings. Terror, mainly.”

I waited, barely breathing.

“I believe Rodrigo said God had shown him the way for us to be together forever. That he would make me eternal, make me his. I remember his hands on my face, so cold. I didn’t understand why they were so cold.” He swallowed hard. “Then, he bit me.” His free hand drifted to the junction of his neck and shoulder.

I couldn’t help but picture it: a younger Seb, drunk on doctored wine, confused and afraid, with that monster’s teeth at his throat.

“I remember fighting when he tried to make me drink his blood,” Seb continued, voice hollow. “I think I might have vomited. He grew angry. Held my jaw, forced more down my throat. Said I was being ungrateful. That this was God’s will.”

“Fucking hell, Seb.” I pulled him closer, pressing my forehead to his temple. Every muscle in his body seemed to tremble.

“I don’t remember dying,” he whispered. “Just the terror. The confusion. Wanting my mother.”

I held him tighter, wishing I could reach back through time and save that scared man who’d written these entries. Who’d trusted the wrong person. Who’d lost everything.

He turned his face into my neck and stayed there, silent, letting me hold him together. “I hate him,” I said. “He’s the worst sort of evil.” After a pause, I asked, “Do you remember those early days? As a vampire?”

“Not much. An eternal hunger. Rodrigo stroking my hair, calling me his perfect creation—”

I must have made a sound of disgust because Seb stopped. His cool thumb brushed my cheek, catching a tear I hadn’t realised I’d shed.

“Don’t cry for me, Flynn. I escaped him, eventually. Had to sacrifice ever seeing my family again, but…” He shrugged. “I lived in shadows for years, but I found others. Good people who taught me how to survive. How to feed without taking too much. How to find willing donors.”

He gestured to the bookcase. “These all document much happier times. My European travels through the Renaissance. Dancing in the courts of France. Learning to paint in Florence. Great love affairs—”

“Love affairs?” I pulled back, hating how my voice pitched up.

A smile tugged at his mouth. “Don’t be jealous.”

“I’m not!” But my face heated, and his knowing look didn’t help.

His smile grew wider. “You know,” he said, lifting our still-joined hands to press a theatrical kiss to my knuckles. “All those centuries of experience just led me here. To this moment. To you. My favourite vampire hunter.”

“Oh my god.” I tried to pull my hand away, laughing despite myself. “That was terrible. You’re terrible.”

“Was it?” He kept hold of my hand, eyes sparkling now. “I thought it was rather romantic. I could try again. Perhaps compare thee to a summer’s day? I did meet Shakespeare, you know. Or at least, someone pretending to be. It isn’t entirely clear…”

“You’re such a prat.” But I was grinning, my chest warm, not even a hint of chill in that moment.

I stacked the diaries carefully. “Thank you,” I said. “For sharing this with me. And Seb… you shouldn’t feel guilty about your sister.”

Seb’s face twisted. “I absolutely should. What kind of man condemns his own sister to death?” His voice cracked. “A monster, that’s who.”

“But you were groomed!” The words burst from me. “Christ, Seb, I just read it. He isolated you, manipulated you, used your faith againstyou—”

“I was weak!” Seb slammed his fist against the floor, making me jump. “I should never have listened to him! Should have seen through his lies, should have protected her…” His accent thickened with each word until he was practically spitting them out.

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