Page 97

“Being a vampire’s no as easy as Isabel and I like to make it appear, you know. In the early days, with no one to tell you how it works…” He flexed his hands. “It’s difficult to get a grasp on a hunger like that. Tis a lot of new emotions.”

The question that had been circling my mind since I first discovered his history finally found its way to my lips. “And the red-headed women? Was that always part of it?”

His gaze met mine, unflinching. “I ken what you’ve been told, but my interest in red-headed women wisnae something I was predisposed to. Aye, I knew of the prophecy my grandmother had shared – but once I was turned, all that faded away. Everything became about the blood.Anyblood.”

I reached for his hand. His skin was cool, but the calluses beneath my fingers were unmistakably human.

“I didnae understand what I was,” he continued, voice low. “I’d no proper education beyond religion and the Devil. I wentto war because I believed it was right. But I failed.” His eyes closed, lost in memory. “Years later, I became this—” He gestured at himself. “I knew it was my punishment.”

He tugged his collar down, revealing a curved white scar. “I killed with abandon those first few years. Sometimes in battle, but no always.” The collar slipped back, his hands falling to his lap. The silence stretched between us.

“I’ve ne’er found a word as could convey my guilt,” he said eventually, his eyes darting around the room, seeing something else. “I argued with myself I was doing what my body demanded… The new strength was wonderful – but it required payment.

“It wisnae til my vampire mind matured that I began to ask questions.” He pulled from behind him one of the diaries I’d left on the kitchen table. I hadn’t even noticed he’d taken it.

“I wrote those questions down.” He held up the book before placing it on the seat between us. “It helped. I was calmer. I realised the deities and devils I’d thought were punishin’ me didnae exist. After all, I’d defied all godly laws already – I’d risen from the dead.

“Eternal life has its advantages, o’ course.” A flicker of his usual roguish smile appeared. “When all you have is time, there’s room to refine one’s… talents, shall we say?” His eyes met mine with a flash of heat before returning to seriousness. “Though I’d trade a lifetime of skills for a wee bit o’ peace from my conscience.”

Nicholas leaned back, distancing himself as he continued to tell his story.

“Twas here in Yorkshire when I lost myself again. A flame-haired beauty, she was – and the beginnin’ of my downward spiral.” His eyes closed. “I’ve many a time wished I didnae meet her.”

“By then, I’d tried to build something. Read everything I could, bought houses with vast libraries. I even worked peasant trades again, tailoring, though feedin’ on noblemen was the fastest path to wealth.” His voice faded into memory.

“One snowy night, before sunrise, I left my carriage. The clerk at the library was a particular friend of mine, and would open late for me – a few words o’ gossip bought his silence.” The ghost of a smile touched his lips. “That’s when I saw her, fightin’ off a lad from the tavern. She called for aid but no one came. They ne’er did, back then.”

“He was drunk and savage. And aye, I saved her – though I had no idea what drew me to her,” he sighed. “Mayhap I only saved her to kill her myself.”

His eyes met mine, calm. “Twas a kinder death at least. Quicker. I was already so glutted on his blood, I barely recognised her appeal at first. I thought it my usual hunger, nothing more. But after… I lost what little civility I’d regained, trying to recapture that feelin’.”

“Was that when you met Isabel?” I asked, wanting to reach for him, to comfort him, but not daring.

“No. That was later – 1750 or so. Twas a friendship formed of necessity since it wasIwho’d brought hunters down upon us.”

“Hunters?” I asked, surprised.

“Your abilities are rare, but no unique,” he grinned. “Yetyou, yourself… there’s none like you, the world over. That I ken for sure.”

I knew he meant it as a compliment, but I couldn’t help wonder how many hunters had failed to take him and Isabel down – how many had died trying.

“So… what changed?” We’d come too far to stop now.

Nicholas took his time answering.

“Many things,” he said finally. “Where there was a war, I would fight – tryin’ to make up for my weakness—”

“But you were so young, before.” I interrupted. “From what you’ve said – anyone would expect you to have been afraid.”

He gazed at me, gravely. “These days you have reasons for it, aye. A name for the trauma. At the time, it was punishable by death. Twas cowardice, and nothing more.”

“But you kept going back?”

“To any war I could get to.” He shook his head. “I still cannae fathom what I sought to achieve – and twas fair contradictory to my nature. It’s no exactly typical vampire behaviour… Gods, Isabel’s always found it verra entertaining.”

I thought I might be beginning to understand. “The contradiction – wanting to do good – was that it?”

“Aye,” he nodded. “It helped me see, but it took years. I knew that if I e’er found you, I had to offer more than a monster. That emptiness you spoke of – for me twas as much about my guilty conscience as my search for ye. I had to wonder what sort of person could want a man such as me.” He pushed a lock of dark hair back, his gaze distant. “And I wasnae wrong. I see how you struggle with it.”