Page 23 of Worse Fates

I laugh, loud and full. “And why would I ever do that?”

“To be nice?” He offers, blush deepening.

Bowing, I press my nose into his hair, filling my lungs with cherries and sea breeze. “Who said I was nice?” I purr, my tone dripping with seduction.

His innocence is rivaled only by his lust, and Golden splutters.

My plans to tease further halts, as a thought hits me. “How old are you?”

This is what gets his gaze back on me, but instead of desire I only find annoyance. “It's completely fine to be an older virgin, ya know.”

“I am well aware. But, as you’ve learnt, I’m also very old. So, while it might be surprising, some morals have lasted the years. That is one I’m particular in keeping.”

Golden tilts back and rests his forearms on the table, eyebrow raised. “But murder is totally fine then?”

“Who said I’ve ever taken a life?” My lips twitch up devilishly, to which Golden rolls his eyes.

“I’m twenty-five.”

“You look…young.”

“And you don’t look six hundred, now tell me the rest of your oldass story.”

I tip my head as if I wore a hat. “As you wish.”

Golden chucks a fry in his mouth. “I thought you were such a gentleman, but I’m starting to rethink that.”

“Oh, my beautiful Golden, you have not been the first to realise this.” His laugh fills my heart. “But yes, back to my, as you so eloquently called it, oldass story.

“After Vidar turned me we travelled. We attended parties, drank like gluttons, and experienced things I could’ve never imagined. It was glorious.” For a moment I return to those early years, when Vidar lived like every day was his last. His love was never a question I’d waste time on. How things have changed. “Iwill never take those memories for granted. But immortality is a long time to be alone, even with friends by your side, and there is a story that every vampire learns at one point. Our soulmates.”

Golden’s breath hitches, forgetting the fries he’s been munching on and easing back into my chest.

“There are many versions of why we have them. Life, and even death, is a shared experience with fate, they say. Without us she is immobile. But immortals get to experience everything, so fate owes us a debt. Paid to us in the form of a connection to see us through the ages. A perfect match. And when you meet them for the first time, it will be as if you’ve already met.”

Golden’s nails dig into my shirt, fisting the material. Eyes so wide they could hurt, he nods, excited, scared. “Okay, this shit is weird. But tell me all of it, Lucero.”

Finally, he will understand our connection and our love will be made real—again.

“I met Francisco in 1801.” Golden frowns, his grip loosening, but I hold his hands to my chest. “I knew him the second I found his scent. Golden hair and crystal blue eyes. I took him home with plans to turn him but…turning someone into a vampire is dangerous, as I said and I couldn’t bring myself to do it. So, I lived a mortal life with him, and when he passed I planned to follow. But Vidar sought the counsel of his Maker, who told us our soulmates are reborn. So, I waited.

“Then in 1890 I found my soulmate again. I thought I’d gone insane when I saw Tristan, a new face but with eyes so golden they must’ve been magic. Again, I lived as a mortal, and mourned his passing as an immortal. In 1935, I met Samuel, this time he loved a golden crucifix. And now, you, Golden. I have found you.”

Golden is quiet in my arms, shock written all over his face.

“...I need a piss.” He climbs off me. Golden’s boots hit the floor with a slap as he makes his way to the bathroom, the door swinging close behind him.

It’s time for my foot to bounce. I hope this wasn’t too much.

But I have faith. I’ve told this story twice now, once to Tristan and then to Samuel, shock always comes and then…love, pure love.

Tristan would tease and ask about my sex life with Francisco, touching himself until he climbed on top of me and rode me with all his strength.

Sometimes with others watching.

Samuel had been curious about the others who he shared a soul with, asking about them as if they were characters in a play. He has written a letter to Golden, that I will share with him one day.

Even with my impatience, I waited longer than I expected. Standing, I make my way over to the door he slipped through.