Page 75

Story: The Gloaming

“She’s… an old acquaintance, certainly. Thankfully, she often disappears for decades.” Adam’s eyes met mine in the reflection of the windscreen. “Nick assures me she wasn’t always that way, but the war had a poor effect on her, as you know. She’s never been the same.”

I pulled a face, but I said nothing. If we’d been talking about anyone else, I might have been more understanding. And Iwassympathetic. Sort of.

Isabel Wyatt had suffered this last century. But I couldn’t help but feel like she’d done so much harm in her past, it was surprising it hadn’t happened before now. Nature always found the balance.

“You think she deserves it?” Adam asked quietly, not looking up from my phone.

I immediately wanted to deny it. But I pursed my lips and kept quiet, waiting.

“You may be correct,” he added. “Though don’t you think it’s a different sort of pain?”

“I don’t understand what you mean. Isn’t pain just – pain?”

“Physical pain, mental pain, heartbreak…” He put the phone down. “Izzie has a tongue like a viper, an ironclad set of her own moral rules and a calculated approach to violence.”

“You’re really not selling her,” I said.

“She’s been trying to atone, as Nick has. And her grief is a reminder of the grief she’s brought about in so many others.” He paused. “I believe she worries that the pain she feels will eventually overshadow how she felt about her husband. When the depth of her guilt is so great, it must be hard to remember the light she once lived in, if only for a moment.”

I stared at the road ahead, flicking the indicator to change lanes. “I thought you didn’t like her?”

He made a noise somewhere between a snort and a laugh. “I don’t.”

“So what’s with the deep personal insights?”

“Iunderstandher. As much as it’s possible to understand the vast mind of a vampire, old as she may be.” He paused. “Perhapsit is why I don’t like her.”

I wondered what he meant. Sometimes, Adam’s behaviour toward Isabel almost rang of jealousy, though I wasn’t sure what it was he had to be jealous of.

“Can I ask you something? And it’s not… accusing, or anything.”

“By all means, you usually ask as you please.” I caught him glancing at me, but I didn’t take my eyes off the road.

“You and Nicholas. You’re good friends?”

“We are.”

“How did that come about? How do you know him?” It wasn’t quite what I wanted to ask, and Adam noticed.

“Do say what you mean, Erin.”

I fidgeted, glancing at the wing mirror. Through the rain-streaked glass, a lorry loomed behind us. “Do you love him?”

Adam chuckled. “Dearly. But as a friend.”

“Ah. Okay.” I didn’t say anything more. It had never really seemed like Adam felt like that about Nicholas, but I knew so little about their friendship.

“I am…” Adam began, and I glanced at him. He was staring out of the window. “I’m not particularly inclined toward anyone at all, inthatmanner. I never have been.”

I smiled. “I don’t know, Adam. You seem to fancy yourself pretty well.”

He laughed. “But of course.”

The quiet piano melody tinkling from the car speakers came to a close. Adam turned slightly, his expression softening. “You needn’t worry about Nicholas’s affections, you know.”

I glanced at him, caught off-guard. “What?”

“In all his years,” Adam said carefully, “He’s never truly loved anyone. Not really. He may be a charmer, but the red-headed women in his life were not a part of his… morephysicalpursuits, shall we say? And as you’re aware, each one was ultimately a disappointment that ended in tragedy.”