I sit back against the sofa, relaxing and breathing in. The whole house is drenched in his scent—warm and comforting, peachy and fresh—and it makes me want to bite him so badly. It’s calling to me and my nature is responding, unequivocally.
“This sweet young creature…” Audrey’s intense hazel eyes are on me, unblinking and framed with crinkly laugh lines. “He reminds me of a vampire that’s barely come of age. He told me his story, and about you. He should not be out here all by himself.” She’s an older vampire, like Asao, but where my friend has led a fairly tame life—unexpectedly domestic, charged with raising and fathering his best friend’s purebred son—Audrey has been out there, and then some.
“I agree.”
“Purebreds are the center. They’re the heart of our culture. They’re not meant to be on the fringes and isolated—especially young pups like him who don’t know anything.”
Folding my arms, I smirk. “Audrey, based on your stories of streaking and stealing, I wouldn’t have pegged you for a traditionalist—suddenly reciting classic aristocracy rhetoric to me.”
She waves a hand, dismissive. “I have a laugh with dopey humans sometimes, but our community is sacred. We need each other, and purebreds much more so. I’ve never once met a happy and thriving purebred that was on their own. Not ever. Their need for camaraderie and companionship is ten times worse than yours or mine. The sliver of humanity we have allows us to tolerate isolation decently, but purebreds? Their natures demand otherwise.” Audrey stands, grabbing her sling bag. “I hope you’ve come here to help him. This is no good for him—a purebred drinking false, factory-made blood. Horrible. I have never heard of such a thing.”
“Well, I’ll certainly try.”
She stalks toward the door and opens it. In the frame, she turns to me again. The rain is sprinkling behind her, falling just a little heavier than when I first arrived.
“Don’t just try, pussycat. Do it.” She closes the door in a loud thud, and I frown. Why is this random-ass vampire that I just met telling me what to do? As if I didn’t come here to try and convince him to come back to Japan with me anyway.
“Did Audrey leave?” Jae is standing in the entryway to the kitchen with a bewildered look on his angelic face.
“She did.”
He pauses, looks at me, then looks away and runs his fingers through his golden-brown hair. He turns and goes back into the kitchen. Sitting in the front room alone now, I shake my head, then stand to follow him.
This kitchen is just as cozy as the sitting room. The white appliances are outdated, but somehow, this just adds to the charm of the clean space framed by rich robin egg–blue walls. There’s a square window above the kitchen sink overlooking the front yard, and I can see a few of the red roses from the bushes outside peeking up and threatening to cover the bottom of the window.
Directly across from the appliances and sink, there’s a white-wooded breakfast nook with bay windows and a curving bench. These windows showcase the back garden and forest—a portrait of rich, velvety green speckled with all manner of wildflower. Everything is swaying and bending from the rain and an uptick in the wind. It looks like a storm is coming.
Jae is standing at the counter, overly focused on the teapot and tray of accoutrements. “I told Audrey that I was going to make another pot of tea. Why did she leave?”
I move to the bench and slide inside, glancing at all the raindrops dotting the windows in the gray late-afternoon light. “I don’t know, but will you come sit with me?”
He doesn’t respond, but continues fussing with things on the counter for another long moment. Lulú hovers around his ankles. When he finally turns, tray in hand, she precedes him and hops onto the opposite side of the bench. He scoots in beside her, removing our cups from the tray and avoiding my eyes. “I have milk, or mint. It’s still growing wild out back from when Mum planted it forever ago, so that’s lovely. There’s sugar cubes as well…” He sets everything aside, and I keep waiting for him to look at me, but he won’t do it.
“How was your flight?” he asks, pouring my tea.
“It was fine. I love you.”
He overshoots in pouring the tea, and now it’s puddled in the saucer underneath the cup and on the table, but at least he’s looking at me with his celestial eyes. They remind me of the rings orbiting Saturn.
“I love you, Jae. I didn’t come here because I’m kind. Or because it was my civic duty or whatever it is you’re thinking. I came here because I missed you.”
Jae is staring at me and holding the teapot like he’s a wax figure, so I reach and pull it from his grip. “Can we put this down?” He jumps, but when the teapot is out of the way, I clasp both of his hands in mine on either side of the tray, making us both rest our elbows down against the surface.
“I apologize if I hurt you, or if you felt like I abandoned you when you needed me. That wasn’t my intention, at all. Can you understand?”
Jae is frozen for another moment, then finally nods and breaks our eye contact. He says, “Yes,” but I can feel that he’s so emotionally guarded. He’s sitting here, our hands are clasped and I’m staring at him, but he’s never felt so far away from me. Like we’re not even in the same room.
“Have I truly fucked this up? Have I lost you?” I bring one of his hands to my mouth and brush his knuckles against my lips, waiting. I’m watching him take short breaths, then he clenches his eyes shut and lowers his head like he’s in pain. I have no idea what’s going on. I’m about to ask if he’s alright when he suddenly snatches his hands away from my mouth and out of my grasp.
“I-I’m sorry—can you please just give me a minute?” He stands, then swiftly disappears through the doorway of the kitchen. This time, Lulú doesn’t chase behind him, but turns her head and stares at me.
I sit in silence, listening to the rain tap lightly against the windows of this beautiful cottage and realizing that maybe I truly have fucked this up.
Forty-Four
Jae
Christ, this body. I feel like I’m about to spontaneously combust and I have no clue what to do about it—other than move away from the person who’s setting me off.
I can’t even process or be happy about what Junichi is saying to me because everything in me feels like a fizzy drink that’s been shaken up—that is, if the drink were made with fire. I leave the kitchen as fast as I can manage and head to the bathroom down the hall from the sitting room. Inside, I close the door and grip the porcelain sink as I take slow, deep breaths. The surface of the sink is cool underneath my palms, which helps to distract me.
I don’t know what’s happening to me. I never know anymore.
This feeling… It was bad when Audrey was here with us, but tolerable, because I could focus all my attention on her. She was like a neutralizer compared to whatever Junichi is doing to me. But with her gone, it’s harder to distract myself—and then he touches me and he’s talking and I literally can’t breathe because my heart is beating off the charts.
It feels slightly more manageable now that I’m in the bathroom, so I turn on the cold water and bend down. I pull my glasses off and place them aside before I splash the water against my face over and over, wishing I could wash this feeling away—this body. When I stop and stand up straight to look at myself in the mirror, droplets are running down my too tight, too perfect for comfort skin, and those weird rings around my irises that showed up a couple of months ago look like they’re glowing.
“Shit.” I rub my hands against my face, willing it to stop. All of it. I feel like a fucking freak.
I stay in the bathroom for a long time, trying to calm myself. When Junichi is in front of me, it’s like everything in my body is clawing and clamoring toward him. Even when I was human, I always wanted him. But this feels ridiculous.
By the time I leave the bathroom, I feel a little more in control. My weird eyes have stopped whatever they were doing, and my heartrate is calmer. I take a deep breath when I turn the corner to walk back into the kitchen. Junichi is still sitting in the exact same spot, and his eyes immediately meet mine. My body warms up, but I take another breath and stamp it down. I can’t keep letting these feelings overrun me like this.
I force a smile. “Sorry about that…”
His gaze is intense but thoughtful. His tone sincere. “What just happened?”
“I’m still adjusting. I’m alright.”
“If you talk to me and tell me what’s going on, I can help you. I’m not Haruka, but I still know a lot and can explain things that might not make sense to you.”
I believe him. I do. But… I don’t want to dump all my shit into his lap again. I did that in the past, didn’t I? He told me before that I could lean on him, and what happened?
I’ll manage this and figure it out on my own. I will.
Slowly, I move forward and toward the bench, trying hard to keep my nature and body in check. I just need to focus. As I sit, Lulú is looking up at me with her golden eyes. She obviously can’t talk, but it feels very much like she’s worried and asking if I’m alright. Which is bloody weird.
“Thank you,” I tell Jun, breathing steadily. “But I’m okay.” I thread my fingers together in the gap of my legs under the table because it gives me something to focus on, and it keeps him from grabbing me and making my nature go berserk again. I take another deep breath. “About… what you said earlier.”
“Can we take it slow?” Junichi asks. “You don’t need to respond to me right now. You’re adjusting, and I don’t expect you to suddenly trust and open up to me again like a switch being flicked on. I know it doesn’t work like that. But I’m here, Jae. Just know that I’m here for you—and this time, I’m not leaving unless you tell me to go. Deal?”
I don’t think this will work anymore. I don’t think it can now. But how could I ever tell him to go? This person that awakened me, and whose blood and presence make my entire body feel like I’m an explosive. I’m relieved, because he’s saved me from having to admit that I’m a complete and utter mess. I can barely control my nature, and I don’t know what’s happening to this insane body from one minute to the next.
I love him, too. Of course I love him. I just… wish things were different. That I was still me—the me I know—or that I’d turned out to be first-gen or lower. Then I’d have some humanity left and Jun would be more comfortable with me. I’d be more comfortable with myself. Things would have been so much better.
It feels unfair.
I nod, taking another deep breath. I think I’m already getting better at controlling my nature. I can feel it. “Yes. Deal.”
