Page 82 of Will It Hurt?

Aisla

Jinn’s train was booked for half past six in the evening. As any good former employee/lover would do, I offered to walk her to the station.

She could have made the journey in seconds if she’d tapped on her vampyric abilities, but instead, she walked beside me, matching my pace.

I told myself the tightness in my chest was from the icy wind or the lower temperature—it was easier to delude myself into thinking this was just another casual encounter.

But the truth was…

This was it.

I would likely never see Jinn again.

The thought hollowed me out from the inside, leaving nothing but the dull, aching pulse of sadness that hadn’t fully settled yet. Slower, heavier, it churned deep in my belly, making each step closer to the train station even more difficult than the last.

If she glanced my way instead of looking out toward the skyline, perhaps she’d be able to see how greedy my eyes were.

I wanted to memorize everything. The way her fingers brushed against mine but didn’t hold on.

The gentle flutter of her hair against her temples.

The shape of her mouth when she almost spoke .

Her steps grew slower as we reached the row of stairs that led down to the station, as if she, too, didn’t want to leave just yet.

But there was also no reason for her to stay.

When we finally reached the platform level, an old steam train chugged into the station. Flashes went off around us as tourists gasped over the polished steel and brass of the puffing machine.

I’d read an article—or, more realistically, watched a video online—that said only a few steam trains ran between Edinburgh and the Highlands, mostly to entertain the tourists and charge them a premium price for a journey that would’ve been a hell of a lot cheaper on the bus.

“I never thanked you,” Jinn said, breaking the silence. Steam from the old train rose over her head.

I shrugged, trying my best to channel the nonchalant lover who could be intimate with someone one day and let them go the next. Casual. Aloof.

“You paid me,” I said, my words almost drowned out by the whistle of the train.

Her smile was fleeting. “It’s not the same thing.”

We paused under a wrought iron lamp that seemed simultaneously out of place and very much at home in Waverley. Jinn stilled, her gaze fixed somewhere beyond my hairline.

“So, do it,” I said, waiting for her eyes to meet mine.

“What?”

“Thank me.”

“I—” she began, the words tapering away into silence overridden only by the clack of footsteps as commuters rushed past.

I shook my head, hating that my chest throbbed dully I spoke .

“There’s no need to say anything,” I assured her. “You hired me for a job and now it’s over. I’m going to petition the High Coven to leave my post, and that’s only possible because of the money you paid me. I count that as a win, you know?”

She studied me, her eyes like dark pools of inky sky.

“You probably have a lot to figure out,” I continued, unsurprised at my inability to shut the fuck up and remain a woman of mystery. “Losing a child is never easy, and your circumstances are ridiculously niche. How would you even get a therapist to understand? Do vampyres even have therapists?”

As an icy wind whistled through the station, I pulled the edges of her coat together and buttoned it, knowing it wouldn’t necessarily keep her warm, but taking comfort in the action anyway.

“What I’m trying to say is—don’t worry about me. Or us. Or whatever it is we did. I’m a big girl and I’ll sort myself out.”

“Aisla,” she began. Just the way she said my name made tears prickle.

I waved her away.

“Train’s pulling in,” I said, knowing she would have seen the way my nose was turning a bright red. Should I blame the wind? Would she believe that?

“Aisla.”

“This was really nice,” I blurted. “Being with you, I mean, not the whole thing with Belle. It was, um, nice getting to know you. And I’m grateful you didn’t kill me.”

“Aisla…”

“No, please,” I said, trying to clear my throat and failing miserably. “I’m not making this about me when you literally just lost your child. Goodbyes aren’t my thing… So it’s best that you leave. Get on the train. ”

I forced a smile—small and fragile, a poor attempt at pretending this goodbye wasn’t shattering me.

“Mouthy little wytch,” she said as she pulled me close with a hand at my waist. “Stop blubbering and kiss me.”

She pressed her lips to mine. Fuck, how had she become so familiar in a few short days?

I loved the way her hair smelled like the wind, and the way her tweed vest yielded beneath my fingers.

I let them tangle in her hair, pulling her closer still, as if I could press this moment into my skin, brand it there so I’d never forget what she felt like, what she tasted like.

Oh, but she tasted like longing, like goodbye, like everything I would never bring myself to say to someone I’d known for five days.

A low sound rumbled in Jinn’s throat as she deepened the kiss, her hands sliding up my back, gripping tight like she could anchor herself to me. Like maybe, if we held on tight enough, neither of us would have to leave… That was wishful thinking on my part.

When she pulled away, my breaths ghosted in the air like little clouds.

“Stop talking and listen,” she said. “Can you write your little resignation e-mail from the Highlands?”

“Um.” An icy wind tugged at my jacket. “I suppose. Why?”

“How would you feel about a trip? Just you and me?”

I pulled away, staring up at her.

“What?”

She pointed to the steam train.

“We could go to the Highlands,” she said. “Leave our problems behind.”

Even as my heart soared, I touched her cheek.

“Grief doesn’t work that way, Jinn,” I cautioned. “You need to lean into it, not run away from it. ”

“I know,” she sighed. “I have several lifetimes to come to terms with Belle’s choice, but I only have one to spend with you.”

Her words slid beneath the armor I had so carefully built, smashing apart the barriers I had erected against the eventuality of her leaving.

I had spent so long fortifying myself against this moment, preparing for distance, for coldness, for the intimacy between us to vanish.

But with a few words, she slipped past every meager defense.

I knew her well enough to say that this wasn’t a slip of the tongue. Jinn’s tongue rarely slipped—I would have used the word never , but the incident with Maia’s truth serum was still fresh in my mind.

She meant every word.

“Ew,” I sniffled, tipping my face into the familiar softness of her vest. “That’s so cheesy.”

Her lips pressed against the warm spot just under my ear.

“You love it,” she whispered.

Laughter crackled through my tears. “Maybe.”

“There’s another reason I don’t wish to return home so quickly,” she said, glancing away. “I don’t relish the thought of my mother lying in wait to confront me. She’s called me so many times that I was forced to turn my phone off.”

A grimace creased my cheek. “She does seem like the persistent sort. I was half-convinced she’d try to get back at me even after Belle decided not to stay.”

“She’s not mad at you—it’s me she wants to rip into for defying her. And with what you said about the existence of Blood Wytches, my head is a mess. Some time away may be my best option.”

I watched as the last passenger boarded the train bound for the Highlands .

“So what do you think, little wytch?” she asked, her arms tight around my waist. “Fancy an adventure? An escape? For both of us?”

As I stared into her eyes—dark pools that had meant so many things over just a few days—reality had never, ever felt as charged as this. As real. As spontaneous.

It didn’t matter that I didn’t even have a change of underwear.

“But why?” I asked, watching her features soften.

“Because.” The backs of her fingers brushed across my cheek. “I’m not ready to say goodbye.”

Simple and honest, her words twined around my heart, squeezing tight. I tried to swallow past the lump in my throat, but it was a monumental task.

Stay and let Jinn walk away to her old life. Stay and let this thing between us become nothing more than a fleeting memory.

Or go. Go to the Highlands and see what this could be.

A breath shivered out of me.

All the reasons why I shouldn’t go rang in my head. If Maia were here, she would easily talk me out of this. In fact, she’d be dragging me away by my hair right now.

“How do I know you’re not just going to take me somewhere and drain me dry?” I asked, feeling like I was stalling an inevitable decision.

“That’s a chance you’ll have to take.”

Before I could talk myself out of it, before fear could creep in and steal this moment away from me—I nodded, watching Jinn’s lips curve in a rare smile.

I could get used to that smile, I thought, placing my hand in hers.

The conductor blew the final whistle as we jumped on.