Page 61 of Thicker than Water
There’s a strand of wet brown hair against her cheek. I move it out of her face and I hold onto her tightly, not speaking. Her face is so peaceful in this moment. I want to savour it.
I try not to think about the forbidden urge I had just moments ago. It’s much too dangerous to entertain, even as a fantasy. If she drank my blood, she might be able to taste the magic in my veins, and it could give me away. If that happens, whoknowswhat she could be capable of.
But looking at her, so tenderly wrapped in my arms, it’s hard to imagine that she could hurt me. Her lips are curved slightly upwards, and she nestles into me so sweetly.
Her eyes open slightly and she looks up at me, her brow furrowed.
“I’m sorry,”she says. Her voice doesn’t sound like her’s. It sounds softer, like the hush of a breeze through a graveyard.
“No need to apologize,” I reply. “We can stay like this, if you like.”
She nods, and pulls me a little tighter.
I wonder how long it’s been since she was held. How much she might have needed it over the years.
I don’t ask her. But I don’t need to.
We stay that way, until the first whispers of the dawn appear over the city skyline.
MAKE YOURSELF COMFORTABLE
Celine
“Can I ask you a question?”
I tilt my head at Amara, a subtle indication of my unwillingness. But in her characteristic fashion, she asks anyway.
“Do youeverdo anything non-vampirey? You know, something normal, like go to the movies, or…go to an amusement park?”
She pops a French fry into her mouth. She’s wrapped in only a towel, her braids piled high on her head after the shower we just took together. It’s been several weeks since we made up, and we’ve been enjoying each other’s company most nights since.
The table between us is laden with a plate of French fries, a half-eaten hamburger, a bowl of ice cream, and a glass of wine from my bar. I had to have a table moved into my suite just for her. Living humans seem to always be eating. I don’t remember eating nearly so much before I was turned. But I’m told that food is better now than it was in 18th-century Quebec. I suppose I’ll never know.
“I play piano, and poker,” I reply. “I have hobbies. I’m very multi-faceted.”
“Piano and poker are both vampire-y. I mean somethingnormal. Like…rollerskating! Iloverollerskating.”
“I amabsolutelynot going rollerskating.”
She huffs. “I’ve been in the city too long. I need more outdoor time. Don’t you ever get sick of being underground constantly?”
I give her an incredulous look.
“Yeah, yeah, I know you don’t! ButI’mnot a gothic creature of the undead. I need to feel the wind on my face, the grass under my feet!”
She laughs and puts her bare feet into my lap, leaning back comfortably into her chair as she grabs another fry. I caress the smooth skin of her ankle, the soft arch of her foot.
Watching her across the table, I feel lighter than I have in a long time. There’s just something about her. Sometimes she’s still a little tense and uneasy around me. But more and more often, she lets this other side slip through. This easygoing confidence, this intimate comfort. She acts so…free. It’s easy to feel the same in her presence. She smiles at me, a smile like nothing else. Her skin is fresh and glistening, radiating aliveness.
“I want to take you somewhere,” I say. “Anywhere you’d like to go.”
“Really?”
“Really. Money is no object. I know an excellent French restaurant, just down the street. I’m told they have a delicious coq au vin.We could go to the opera first, I have a box…”
“Can we go to the park?”
I raise an eyebrow. “Thepark?”
