Page 63 of Discovery of the Vampire
"Will you tell me about your family?" I don't know what made me say it, other than the fact that I wanted to know more about her. I wanted to know everything.
"My family?"
"If it's too soon?—"
"No. No, it's okay. I'm just surprised." She studied me with a strange expression.
"Will you tell me about them?"
"Why?"
"Because it's a way to keep them alive. And because I'd like to know more about you. And because I love the sound of your voice.” I tightened my arm around her shoulder, reminding her I was there. That I wasn't going anywhere.
After a moment, she did as I asked, starting with the small town she grew up in and how her grandmother, herabuela, lived with them and taught her how to draw out the magic inside of her, just as she had her mother. She told me about her mother's cooking. And the way her father always acted so stern, but how he would do anything for the women in his life. She talked about her brother and the school she went to and how she never had many friends and how sad it used to make her, but her mother would never let her sit in her room depressed.
"She'd never let me be a wallflower,” she said with a smile. "I get my love of clothes from her.”
I listened to her stories without interrupting, enjoying the way she flipped back and forth between Spanish and English without realizing it and the smiles that teased the corners of her red lips as she shared details about the people she loved most in the world. And by the time we reached her apartment, I felt like I knew this woman better, but still not nearly as much as I'd like.
But that would take time that we may or may not have, so I'd take what I could get for now.
She grew quiet as we climbed the stairs to her unit, and I knew the time had come to stop being a fucking coward and tell her everything. But the moment Esme turned the key in the lock and pushed open her apartment door, the air shifted, and a cold, unnatural chill rolled out like a fog. A vaguely familiar scent hit me like a brick wall—charred sulfur and something ancient, something that didn’t belong in this world. The same magic we'd felt that night on the street with Dae, the night I'd kissed her.
My gut tightened, but the scalding hot fury that he'd been in her home again was stronger than my fear. Esme froze beside me, still in the hallway, her uninjured hand gripping the door frame so tight her knuckles turned white. Her scent, sharp and acrid, gave away her terror, making my instincts scream to protect her. It was obvious she didn't know he'd be here.
"Invite me in," I said, stepping closer but not crossing the threshold. A vampire couldn’t enter a home without permission. "Esme." I grabbed her chin and forced her to look at me. "Invite. Me. In."
She blinked up at me, snapping out of her daze as her eyes fell to my exposed fangs, and nodded. "Come in, Brogan."
The second she said it, the invisible force keeping me out of her place snapped, and I crossed the threshold, my senses on high alert. The apartment was small—a living room with a loveseat and coffee table, a tiny kitchenette, and a door that led to what I assumed was the bedroom. Everything appeared normal, but the hair on the back of my neck stood straight up and kept my senses on full alert.
"Stay behind me," I told her, moving through the space slower than I would have normally so she could keep up. I checked the bedroom—bed neatly made, nothing out of place. No one was in the closet. The bathroom was empty too, though the stench of Marcus lingered in the air the heaviest here, especially near the sink, like he'd lingered there for a while.
I checked the counter. There was a toothbrush, toothpaste, deodorant, lotion, and a small bag with makeup in it. Scooping it all up, I dropped it in the trash.
Esme watched from the doorway, but said nothing when I threw out all of her stuff. She wasn't stupid. There was a reason Marcus lingered in here. I didn’t want her using any of this shit. “I’ll buy you new lipstick."
"Red?" she asked in a small voice. "Forever Dior?"
"Absofuckinglutely."
"I'll need all the other stuff you threw away also."
“Make me a list, darlin'." I ran my eyes over her, noticing the stiff way she held herself. "He’s not here anymore," I assured her, though my words didn’t make her relax. If anything, she seemed even more on edge.
“I know.”
“Then what is it?”
"It's not the first time he's been here," she admitted, her voice shaky. "He knows where I live."
At last. Some honesty. “Yeah, I know.”
Her dark eyes shone with terrified tears. “Lizzy told you,” she guessed.
“Actually, it was Angel. But, yeah, they told us this morning when I got home.”
I moved toward her, unable to help myself, needing to touch her. I took her hands in mine, careful not to grip them too hard in my panic. "Will you tell me what happened?” I asked, even though I wanted to scream at her for not telling me right away so I could get her somewhere safe.
