“The general opinion is that a vampire is attacking these people,” I said. “And now that the murders have made the papers, the Politia thinks the community will be out for our blood—so to speak.”
When he didn’t say anything, I continued. “Earlier today the chief constable told me that this could dissolve the truce.”
“It could,” Andre said, not looking up.
“And if that happens, the Politia will hunt us down.”
Andre now met my eyes. “I promise you they won’t touch us,” he said, his voice fierce.
There was something foreign about him at that moment. It wasn’t that he seemed inhuman, or that he seemed cold, or that he came from a period and place that I couldn’t relate to. It was that time had made him something more.
I also knew that he meant every word. Andre hadn’t survived seven hundred years for no reason. And he hadn’t earned his reputation—as someone who was not to be crossed—for no reason either.
“I’d prefer to instead catch the vampire responsible,” I said. “That’s primarily why I’m here—so that we look for the killer together.”
“What’s the other reason?”
I didn’t answer right away. Instead I let the silence envelope us as I pulled together the courage to say what I’d built up in my mind for the last two months.
“I know about the prophecy,” I said quietly. Andre’s eyes widened—and why wouldn’t they? He wasn’t there when Theodore confessed. He didn’t know how much I knew. I continued. “I know why Theodore wanted to kill me. And I know we’re soulmates.”
Andre glanced down at his clasped hands. His hair hung in front of his face. He looked so much like a tragic hero. “I’m . . . sorry.”
I didn’t need him to clarify his statement; I knew he was apologizing for the fact that we were now stuck together. I could also tell that while he was surprised I knew this information, he wasn’t surprised to hear it. He’d known we were soulmates this whole time, he’d just never brought it up.
“I’m here because we’re irrevocably bound to each other.”
Andre lifted his head, his eyes sparkling. He was looking at me like I was his redemption.
“But—” I continued, “this link between us scares me. You scare me. And I still haven’t gotten over the fact that you killed all those people.” I remembered the heaps of clothing, all that remained of dozens of vampires. The memory still gave me chills.
“I will not apologize for my actions,” he said, “not even to you. I did what I had to do to save you. You can decide to stay away from me, but if you choose not to, then you must take me the way I am.”
I couldn’t accept that conscienceless behavior, but I also needed his help. An uncomfortable mixture of thoughts and feelings tumbled through my mind. I loved this man, but I hated some of his actions. I was disgusted for wanting to forgive him because what he did was horrific. I was worried that if I didn’t bring him back into my life, the truce might dissolve, I might get kicked out of school and the Politia, I might not learn to control my vampiric abilities, and I might be persecuted.
I swallowed. It wasn’t even a choice. I needed his help.
“I will take you the way you are,” I said.
His eyes smoldered. The current between us amplified, but maybe that was just my pounding heart.
Tantalizingly slow, Andre rose from his chair and closed the distance between us, his movements sinuous. He leaned in to me and slipped a hand through my hair.
His breath brushed over my mouth. But instead of kissing me, his mouth skimmed along my cheek and stopped next to my ear. “Listen,” he said, “us working together is conditional.”
I pulled my head away from him, so that I could better see him. I was about to flat out say no—I’d made enough concessions in the last minute—except I could tell from his expression that he wanted me to. He didn’t want to work together on the investigation. That realization hurt more than I would have liked to admit.
So I changed tactics. “Oh really?” I said. “Because you don’t need my help?”
“No, I don’t. And I’d prefer to leave you out of this.”
I folded my arms in front of me. “Well, that’s not going to happen.”
“That’s where my condition comes in. If we’re going to work together, you give me a second chance.”
Of course that was his condition. It was so typically Andre—
“That means lots of dates,” he interrupted my thoughts. He began to smile. “Not one or two, but lots. We’re talking months and months of dates. And skanky cocktail dresses. I want to see you in so many skanky cocktail dresses that—”
“Fine,” I said. Skanky cocktail dresses? As if. I was going to have to work my way around that condition.
Upon hearing my answer, Andre’s eyebrows rose in surprise. Then a wicked smile gradually spread across his face. I knew I’d been had as soon as I saw it. I should’ve haggled with him.
“Great,” he said, “where do we start?”
***