He shoves his hands deep into his pockets and leans against the wall, looking at some random point on the floor. I can’t quite read his mood, and that unsettles me.
“Okay, we’re off.” Jordan breezes past us, jingling her key fob. “Misbehave, babies. Make me proud.” She gives me a wink and links arms with Chrystie and Ismay as the three of them leave the house. Ismay barely has time to throw a “thanks for dinner” in Jay’s direction before they’re all sweeping outside, and the door closes behind them.
We’re truly alone now, Jay and I. No more pool guys or household staff. Just the two of us. The thought sends a shiver of anticipation over my skin. But I shrug it off and fake a yawn.
“I should go home,” I say. “I’ve been in your hair for, like, a couple days now, and you’re probably really sick of me, so—”
“Never.” He bites out the word. “I could never be sick of you.”
“Hmm.” I survey him, drawing on my years of experience with Jay’s body language. Seemingly casual pose. Hands in pockets, head down. Avoiding direct eye contact. He wants to say something or do something, and he’s holding himself back for reasons. He used to get this way after something terrible happened with his family. A sort of bad day made him chatty; the really wretched ones made him quiet and jumpy. And the only thing that loosened him up was physical activity.
I grab his wrist. “Come on. Let’s take a walk before I head home. I keep hearing about the hedge maze in your gardens. Can’t believe you still haven’t showed it to me.”
He lets me pull him toward the back door. “During the parties, the maze becomes hookup central,” he says. “I didn’t think you’d want to see all that. You wouldn’t believe the number of used condoms my poor cleaning guys have to retrieve.”
“Gross.”
He shrugs. “At least they’re being safe, I guess.”
“Still gross. Why don’t people clean up after themselves? It’s not that hard.”
We pass through the screened porch and give the pool a wide berth. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to swim in it again without having a flashback of Jay, spread-eagled and unconscious in its depths, his blood swirling around him.
I tighten my grip on his wrist. “I’m so glad you’re a vampire.” The words break free, colored with a ferocity I didn’t know I had.
“So am I,” he says, with a glance at the pool. “Can you imagine if I had made my money some other way, and come here, and gone through all of that—reuniting with you and everything—only to be shot?”
“That would have been seriously tragic.”
“Way too tragic.”
We walk between flower beds, past a fountain, to the entrance of the hedge maze. Tinted lamps, angled toward the hedges, illuminate them in green light. Moths and night insects flutter near the bulbs. A mosquito whines past my ear, and I wave it away.
Then I let my fingers slip from Jay’s wrist. “I noticed, when we were on the hike, that you like to run. To chase people.”
He kicks the ground. “It’s like an animal instinct, a predatory thing. That’s one reason Cody suspects Dr. Endive used some animal DNA in his formula. Our primal urge to hunt is way stronger than a normal human’s.”
“Cool.” My heart is thrumming twice as fast as usual, and I haven’t even started running yet. “Give me a ten-second head start.”
“What?” His eyes widen.
I take his chin in my hand and stand on tiptoe to kiss him, a quick tempting brush of my mouth on his. “You’re going to chase me.”
And then I run.
I plunge into the maze, straight ahead for a couple seconds, then a right. Then a left. I run full out, eyes open, an exhilarated glee pumping through my blood. It feels so incredibly good, after everything, to just let go. I don’t even care that my sandals weren’t made for this and that I might have a blister or two tomorrow. My feet are winged, light as air, and I let myself laugh out loud because there’s no one around to hear—except for the vampire chasing me.
I hear him before I see him—a thrum of quick steps, the ripple of a growl. Goose bumps rise on my skin and I leap forward, propelled by an instinct old as time.
He’s right behind me, steps pounding nearer, his breaths heavy with predatory intent. Somehow I sense the moment he pounces, and I skid aside into a right-hand path. He crashes into the corner of the hedge and I laugh again, breathless, redoubling my pace.
Another second, and then I break into an open space with a fountain. I run halfway around it and turn, just in time to see Jay stalking out of the maze. His fangs and claws are out, and fear flickers behind my excitement. What am I doing, tempting the beast? I’m not super familiar with his vampire side yet. And I know it’s possible for vampires to lose themselves in bloodlust. What if this game was a very, very stupid mistake?
Jay’s tongue glides over his teeth. He starts to circle the fountain, and I move in tandem, keeping it between us. The spray is a glittering veil across his prowling figure. As the fountain lights change color, he sparkles in shades of pink, yellow, and green.
“You’re playing a very dangerous game, Daisy,” he croons.
“Maybe I like danger.”
“I don’t remember you being a thrill-seeker.”
“Maybe I picked it up from Jordan.”
“Maybe you need to think more carefully about how this could end.” His tone carries the weight of real concern. He’s talking about more than this game. This is a throwback to our earlier conversation about the future.
“That’s what your mood was all about tonight,” I say. “You’re worried being around you puts me in danger.”
“You could have been killed during that whole Myrtle showdown. You were hurt, for sure. I’ll bet that lump on your head is still sore. And then today, you had to feed your blood to my friend. I wasn’t thinking clearly when I pulled you into this, Daisy. I was being selfish, and that has to stop. I have to set you free of this mess while I still can.”
My whole body rebels at the thought of freedom being anything but this. Freedom is the hectic heat coursing through my veins, the violent rhythm of my heart, the way I feel so exquisitely alive. It’s the warm, ticklish thrills between my legs, the greedy ache in my soul, the wild abandonment of every inhibition. “That’s not your choice to make anymore,” I tell him. “It’s mine. And honestly, I’d rather be with a guy who loves me enough to let me go, instead of the guy who cheated on me and still thinks I belong to him.”
“Who said I love you?” Jay gives me a crooked grin.
My pulse jumps. “It was heavily implied.”
“And here I thought I was hiding it so well.” He’s walking faster now, and I have to pick up the pace to keep the fountain between us. I’m going to have to run for it soon.
“Remember when we used to play tag at the park with the fish slide?” I ask. “We used to circle the merry-go-round just like this.”
