“I don’t want it. It suits you, though. The sofa.”
“Exactly.” I wiggle my eyebrows. I love that fucking couch. I based the design of everything else in the living room and kitchen off that couch. Why? Because my father would hate that couch. “Wild and garish.” That’s what he would call it—like the rocking of hips to the guitar and bongos.
Jae takes the flowers and lifts them up toward his nose. “Thank you for these… Why are you here? I thought I’d see you in Milan?”
“Jae. You’re the only living British purebred vampire in existence and you’ve never been to an aristocracy event. I wouldn’t let you walk into that situation by yourself.”
There’s an awkward pause where I sense he wants to say something, but instead he looks away from me, staring into the flowers. “That’s very kind of you. Thank you… Do you need help carrying anything else?”
I raise my eyebrow. Kind of me? “I don’t, no.”
“Audrey is inside. You should come in and meet her.” He turns, and I follow him up the charming cobblestone path and to the front door. Just before I step through the frame, I call out to Lulú. She comes bounding through the grass like a dolphin leaping in and out of the ocean, then trots past me and inside the house. It’s obvious that she already loves it here. Too bad the owner of this stunning little home is less than thrilled about me.
“I haven’t stolen anything in fifteen years,” The Vampire Audrey exclaims. “It’s too difficult nowadays. And prison has never been any fun. You won’t catch this poppet behind bars. Not ever again!”
I’m laughing as the tea kettle whistles, the sound shrill and ringing through the warm sitting room. Jae hops up from his armchair and heads toward the kitchen with Lulú close at his heels. She hasn’t left his side since we came into the house.
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.
