One

Sadie

      Laying in bed, wrapped up in my warm, thick down comforter I watched as Byron got ready for his day. He mesmerized me with his natural smoldering presence—which was kind of ironic because he was a vampire and without fresh blood was naturally cold blooded. Though preternatural he was so human, by that I mean he brushed his teeth, combed his hair, and put product in it, and shaved like any other man. However, there were a few things in his morning routine that humans didn’t do.

      One of those was smearing that thick blue-white sunblock over every inch of exposed flesh. I had seen the progression of what happens when he misses a spot, or if I rubbed it off before it set. First the skin would turn red, then it would blister, turn purple and eventually catch fire. One of the downsides about Byron was he was too much of a knightly gentleman to show that he was in pain in front of me, so he walked me across campus to my class in spite of his shoulder smoking.

      We learned from the experience—or rather I did—after he put the stuff on I didn’t touch him for the fifteen minutes while it dried or cured or whatever that stuff did. Which was fine with me—it smelled like a closet full of industrial cleaner and burned my nose.

      Despite singed nose hairs and watery eyes, I loved watching Byron apply it. Okay, honesty time, I loved watching him run his hands over his body—especially his neck.

      So there I was grinning like a loon as he rubbed it over his chest smearing it across his well-defined pecs. That was another thing, he was incredibly hot, as in I had never in my entire life seen a man more attractive. His body was immaculate lean and defined enough to put underwear models to shame. Also, his biceps were hard enough that I occasionally had to fight the urge to squeal with glee when I touched them.

      Then there was his face. His eyes were a glinting shade of blue that seemed to change depending on the light. In natural light they were an almost warm shade of denim blue, but at night they glinted like silver in the dark. They were very expressive eyes too. Something about the set of his brow always seemed to suggest sadness.

      His mouth however always seemed to be smiling, that was its natural set but I always felt it was true when he was around me. His lips were as perfect and as kissable as lips could possibly be.  His nose was narrow and pointed in such a way that the tip wiggled occasionally when he laughed or was annoyed with something.

      In short, I was thoroughly and absolutely smitten with him. Physical beauty aside he was the perfect gentleman to boot, so I essentially had won the hot guy lottery.

      “I see you spying there,” His voice, dark and velvety poured over my body making me purr. He had an accent that came and went, it was almost a London accent—you know that BBC perfect English that makes most American woman and some men drop their panties faster than you can say, crumpet.

      “Am not!” Giggling I pulled the comforter over my head. We had been living together for about a week in my studio apartment—though he was reluctant in the beginning.

      He lifted the comforter off me. “Go back to sleep.” He kissed my forehead and dropped the blanket back.

      “I don’t want to.” I whined.

      “You have classes, work, and then we have the appointment to look at that apartment in Lexington and Park.”

      I peeked my head out and watched him slip his suit jacket over that pressed white shirt. He worked security—I’m sorry protection—and always had to dress semi-professional to do it. He also carried a gun, which I thought was odd since he was a vampire. I hadn’t asked him about it but I was pretty sure the answer probably had something to do with taking care of threats from a distance.

      “I have to be up in—” Glancing at the clock took my words from me, it was three in the morning. “You win.”

      “It’s not a game to win or lose.” He walked back over to the bed and kissed me softly before tracing his nose over mine. Before being with him I never thought eskimo kisses could be sexy, but that opinion had certain changed. “Are you going to stay up? I have some time, I could turn on the Keurig and make you a cup of coffee.”

      “I’m going to try to head back to sleep.”

      “Alright, I’ll meet you after class?”

      “I have work.”

      “That’s right.”

      “Mhm, they restored the crest on the armor and it’s going back on display. So I have to be there from noon on.”

      “Aren’t you going to be cutting it close? Your class lets out at eleven.”

      “Ten fifty, I’ll be fine.”

      “Let me take you? I’ll bring you lunch.”

      “I won’t have time for lunch.” I sighed.

      “You can’t skip lunch or you’ll pass out again.”

      I stuck my tongue out at him, and with a little growl he pounced me. He tickled me mercilessly as we rolled across the bed and my giggle fit threatened to suffocate me. Tears were in the corners of eyes when he pinned me against the mattress with his hips.

      “I… I can’t breathe!” I tried to push him off me and he didn’t budge, but he did stop on his own. Things like that always gave me a slight pause about our relationship. He might have been wonderful fun, happy, playful, loving, charming, amazing, wonderful Byron, but he was also an undead creature built for murder and destruction.

      The thought as always was sobering, but I still kissed the bulge of his bicep. His eyes always seemed to fill with sorrow after those moments like he knew what I was thinking. I’d never say it out loud, I knew it would hurt him if he found out I thought of him that was on occasion. Unfortunately, it was hard not to, and I always felt a little guilty after.

      “I’m sorry.”

      I pressed my finger tips to his lips. “Shh.” He also had a habit of apologizing for every little thing, even things that he didn’t have control over. “You can bring me lunch and meet me after class. But… and hear me out because this is a big but… no funny business.” I teased.

      “What do you mean?”

      “You know what I mean! No sneaking a snack.”

      “I wouldn’t dream of it, even though I’m skipping breakfast.” He kissed along my throat, my eyes closed and my mouth went slack as I trembled with each careful brush of those silky lips against my windpipe.  I gasped out a shuddered moan and he got off me. I could feel the mattress shifting under me as he jumped off the bed.

      “Where are you going anyway?” I opened my eyes again watching as he opened the closet and pulled out his gun and holster from the safe I made him get. I still wasn’t comfortable around them but I realized he needed it for work.

      “I am going to be guarding the head of the Preternatural Coalition while he has a meeting with the Erikson Clan.”

      “Oh, I’m going to pretend that made some sense.” I beamed at him and he chuckled.

      “You know the old Police station building on Euclid?”

      “Mhm, the pretty art deco one they just renovated.”

      “It’s not a police station anymore, it’s the headquarters for the Preternatural Coalition, which every group; werewolves, vampires, sorcerers, wizards and all of that are subject to.”

      “So, you mean you have another master?”

      “It’s not like that. They just handle conflicts between the different groups.”

      “And the Erikson clan is?”

      “Werewolves.”

      “Gotcha.”

      “Asher’s probably going to be there. Jen might even be too if he’s chosen her as mate.”

      “What does that mean?”

      “I thought you guys covered this stuff in health class?”

      “Total honesty here, I fell asleep during the werewolf days—minus when they showed all the gory slides.”

      “And what about vampires?” He sounded a little angry.

      I sat horrified as the teacher spent days explaining how some of you kill people for fun.

      “I don’t remember much; it was a while ago.”

      There was something about the way he looked at me that said he knew I was keeping something from him. Being the perfect gentleman he was, he didn’t say anything. Our eyes locked and though I felt that drifting feeling as always, I could see the sadness in his eyes as that stormy sea of scarlet attempted to drown me. He wasn’t doing it intentionally, it was like breathing to him, as it was to other vampires. In the last week I learned to fight against the pull of his power. Resisting him always gave me a head ache that made my temples throb and the base of my spine feel like it was trying to rip out through my mouth.

      With a whimper, I looked away and the softest sigh left his lips.

      “I—” He stopped himself, but I knew it was going to be another apology.

      “You can’t help it. Technically I did it to myself.”

      “I just wish we could look into each other’s eyes without you either being in pain or…”

      “Tripping balls?” I couldn’t help but to giggle as I said it.

      “Yes, I suppose that is one way to put it.” He laughed. “I can never stay low when I’m around you.”

      I glanced at the clock. “You’re going to be late.”

      “Don’t remind me, I’d much rather spend the morning with you.” A weak smile spread on his lips.

      “I know. Tomorrow we’ll have a lazy morning in bed.”

      “Tomorrow we’ll be moving if you like the place.”

      “It never happens that fast. There’s credit checks to run, the application has to be approved. It took almost three weeks for me to get this place.”

      “Things tend to go far quicker when you’re willing to give people cash up front.”

      “And when was the last time you got an apartment?”

      “Never, but I have a friend in the building already.”  He pounced me again, knocking me back against the pillows. With the quickest brush of his lips to mine he slipped from the bed. “I’ll see you at ten fifty on the dot.”

      “Going to wait outside of my class?”

      “Mhm, with one of those cocoanut wraps from that place you like downtown.”

      “I’m so spoiled.”

      “I try. I love you. Get some sleep.” He turned off the light.

      “I love you too. Be safe!”

      “I always am,” he called, closing the door.

      There was no way in I could go back to sleep, so I got out of bed and worked on one of my final papers. Finals were closing in like spiked walls threatening to skewer me. There was nothing quite as terrifying as finals or what came after. Graduation.

***

      By the time I had to get ready for class I had actually finished my paper, so I printed my paper and got ready early. I figured I’d turn it in and get coffee on campus before class. That was why an hour before I usually headed across the street to campus I was in the line at the coffee shop with my big heavy purse that I used as a book bag hanging off my shoulder.

      With my ear buds in I was dancing in my own world in the line full of tired and haggard students I seemed an oddity. My mood, however, kept me from really paying much attention to the people who looked at me like I was weird. I was so wrapped up in my own world that I didn’t realize Jen—my only friend, who I had been neglecting—approach. When she tapped my shoulder I jumped with a gasp.

      “Oh, Jen, hi!”

      “Hey girl!” We hugged. Jen was gorgeous, she was tall, leggy blonde and looked like a supermodel. Not only was she pretty, but she always dressed amazingly. Today was no exception, she looked very business—which meant she probably had a presentation to give. She wore a charcoal gray skirt and a nice white blouse with a matching jacket. The only thing not professional about her attire was the length of her skirt, and the seam up the back of her panty hose.

      “Presenting?”

      “Yeah, over my Gatsby paper, I’m so glad I got that out of the way at the beginning of the semester.”

      “I finished my final paper for Victorian Painters.”

      “Let me guess, more Waterhouse?”

      “Yes.” I laughed.

      “You love that guy’s work so much I feel like I write a book over him.”

      “You’re no better with F. Scott Fitzgerald.” I teased sticking out my tongue. We shared a giggle and it was my turn in line. “Want anything?” I asked.

      “Nah.”

      I ordered my coffee and a croissant.

      “So how are things with Asher?” I inquired glancing to her as the barista handed me my croissant and coffee. An elaborate diamond ring glinted on her finger now—it could only be an engagement ring. Asher proposed to her some weeks ago, at the time she had asked him to try again after graduation—they had only known each other a month at the time. He had since decided I wasn’t fit friend material because I was with a vampire.

       At the time, I thought it was because of the stigma that a lot of people faced because they were dating a preternatural, but it was more than that. There was bad blood between the vampires and werewolves, and Asher was a werewolf. Something I hadn’t known until Byron showed up and warned Jen about Asher’s reputation.

      My current internal conflict had been whether or not to call her and ask if she was okay. She looked fine but I knew that people could often hide that things were wrong. If things did go wrong she was in a bad spot. He got her a job working under him, bought her a car, they moved in together, and now they were engaged. It all seemed too fast to me.

      I was even hesitant about moving in with Byron, excited but still not completely sure it was the right move. Had he just moved into my place I’d be fine. I liked having him around all the time, but moving into a new building, a new apartment I wasn’t sure about that—especially since he wanted to look in the Lexington and Park districts.  Lexington and Park were the most expensive areas of the cities, there were old mansions there and gothic looking buildings full of super nice, super updated, super expensive condos.

      “Things are good.” She flashed me the ring. “I was going to call you but, he gets weird when he even thinks I’m texting you.”

      That’s because you’re at the beginning of a life time movie when the charming amazing boyfriend gets weird before we find out he’s abusive.

      I sipped my coffee and pursed my lips.

      “I’m happy for you.”

      “Thank you! So how are things with Byron?”

      “Great, we’re going to look at apartments later.”

      “He seems really great. I want to get the four of us together but Asher’s just not having it.” She sighed and checked her watch. “Crap! I’m going to be late.”

      “Knock ‘em dead.”

      “Oh, you know it!” She turned and took off at a brisk run towards the Liberal Arts building—well as close to a run as she could manage in those heels. Casting my eyes across the quad I stared at the hunk of a design nightmare that was the fine arts building. Some famous architect from Denmark or Sweden or something around there designed it. I couldn’t help thinking it looked like a crumpled-up ball of tinfoil.

      My phone buzzed in my pocket and I juggled my croissant and coffee trying to get it out of my bag.

      -I hate not being there with you.

      The text made me smirk.

      -Can’t be with me all the time. I have class soon anyway.

      -If I close my eyes and take a deep breath I think I can still smell you.

      -You’re insane.

      -No, I’m in love.

      -Speaking of love, saw Jen. She and Asher are engaged.

      -Congratulate her for me.

      -Will do.

      -Shouldn’t you be heading to class?

      -Shouldn’t you be doing whatever it is you do?

      -I am.

      -Some body guard you are on your phone!

      -I know, I’m terrible. Are you going to punish me for being a naughty boy?

      I flushed beet red and looked around. There wasn’t anyone near me but I still felt like someone would pop up behind me and read the text.

      -Maybe.

      -What are you going to do to me?

      -Send you to bed without dinner and take away your video games.

      -… You know that’s not what I meant.

      -<3 Heading to class. See you in an hour.

      With that I put my phone back in my pocket and scurried off to class.

***

      At noon I was dressed professionally in a black skirt, whit button down and matching jacket with bright scarlet lips and my shiny brass name tag. I didn’t hate my job, I got it through a placement program the university had. If you had over a 3.5 GPA you were eligible for a paid internship at a number of companies in the area. Mine was with the Winthrop Sterling Art Museum as a docent, which kind of went without saying since my major was Art History. Since my focus was on Renaissance and Victorian painting they had me flit between the two sections.

      Since the Armor exhibit opened that January I’d been stationed outside of it more time not, being a living breathing Wikipedia page. My heels clicked on the marble floor, echoing as I made my way to my section. It was a Tuesday at noon so the museum was dead more or less.

      Everyone had made such a huge deal about the crest being restored that I had expected more than the three members of the press who had showed up for the unveiling. It had taken the guy a week longer than he thought it would to restore it, everyone else had snuck a peek in the back. I couldn’t bring myself to. Since starting in September that armor had been my imaginary boyfriend.

      I used to spend a good few minutes before they even put it on the floor staring at it and envisioning the man who it belonged to. This was long before I met Byron of course, back when I was single and certain that every guy was a different flavor of jerk. I’d imagine a handsome man wearing it, that I’d give him my favor before a joust. He’d win, and come back to me with adrenaline coursing through his veins. Then he’d make love to me in one of those great old beds with the massive canopy and drapes.

      At some point in time they had dropped the curtain and I was so wrapped up in remembering my fantasy that I missed it. The good thing about the crest was that we’d now be able to authenticate the armor’s era with complete certainty. Other than that, it didn’t really change anything, other than now the little white card would say…

      I looked down at the card and blinked a few times making certain that I read it correctly. In pretty italics the card read, BYRON RAVENCROFT, FIRST DUKE OF SOMMERSET, JOUSTING ARMOR 1559.

      Swallowing, I walked around to the side of the shield where the crest had been mangled. The restorer had done amazing work, the metal looked like new and the ornate filigree came through vividly, complete with the crest of the helm and a raven with a Tudor rose in its claw. I stared in awe at the little biography, complete with painted portrait of Byron, my Byron. His hair wasn’t dark in the painting, but the same shade of red as Elizabeth I and King Henry VIII. I scanned the bio they had of him and my heart stopped in my chest.

      ILLIGITIMATE SON OF HENRY VIII & CATHERINE RAVENCROFT, MARQUESSE OF STRATHFORD, BORN MAY DAY 1538. CHARGED WITH WITCHCRAFT, AND EXECUTED BY HANGING APRIL 21ST 1560.

      They had even fixed a small illustration from a book of his death. It was hard to look at the engraving, they got his lips right and my mind filled in the rest. It was so odd to see that crest that I had become so accustomed to on Byron’s bicep emblazoned on the armor I had envisioned my fantasy man wearing.

      I felt like an idiot. I had told him about how I felt about the guy who wore the armor while he was standing right in front of it.

      “Crap,” I hissed under my breath before looking around. Everyone had gone already, and the Museum was back to being a ghost town. I suddenly found myself with a dire urge to get my phone out and ask Byron why he didn’t tell me. My phone however, was in my purse, in my locker—because good living wikis weren’t allowed to have their phones.

      Needless to say, my shift was the slowest eight hours of my life.

Two

Sadie

The down side to having eight hours to dwell over a situation without doing anything about it was that you had eight hours to come up with a million different ways that a conversation could go. I lived in a state of conversational string theory until I got off work. My relationship, like Schrödinger’s cat was neither quite alive nor dead. That’s not to say I wanted it to end, but it was one of the hundreds of outcomes that the impending conversation could have.

      When eight o’clock came and the loud speaking came on telling everyone that we were closing I almost didn’t want to move from the shadow of that armor. His armor. Never the less, I did head to the back and collect my things.

      Outside, it was darker than I envisioned it in all the scenarios I went through. Also, Byron was outside the car leaning against it, and not wearing the suit he had been when he left. He wore a black hoodie that was tight to his form and a garnet colored slouching beanie. The jeans he wore were old and ripped at the knee, I knew the denim was so old it was soft to the touch, and it made my palm itch with the need to touch him. But I couldn’t help but to look at him and think of that painting.

      It’s one thing to know your boyfriend’s a five hundred some odd year old vampire, but another thing entirely to know that he was only four hundred and seventy-nine years old, and have the proof shoved in your face.

      Halfway down the walkway to the curb he pushed from the car and made his way over to me. Without a word, he drew me into his arms and pulled me close. That heady scent of masculinity and his cologne coaxed a happy purr from me. No matter how good he felt it didn’t take away from the fact that he was keeping something from me.

      “Aren’t we going to be late?” I asked still trapped in his embrace.

      “You’re right.” He sighed releasing me, though he kept one arm draped across my shoulders. “I think you’re really going to like this place. The view is amazing. But if you don’t I set up an appointment for another one tomorrow.”

      “Okay.” I glanced at him.

      Eight hours of planning ruined with a hug. 

      The conversation was still going to happen. But as I got in the car I wasn’t sure when the right time was.

      Maybe I can spring it on him after we look at the apartment.

      I fiddled with the radio as we raced through town, after ten minutes I gave up and collapsed back against the black leather seat.

      “You’re quiet. Is everything alright?” Byron assessed his gaze flitting to me for a split second before returning to the road.

      “I don’t want to move until after graduation.”

      He smiled. “I thought that was a given? You don’t have a car. I’m not so selfish as to demand you add an hour to your commute just to sleep next to you.”

      Why do you have to be so perfect? Couldn’t you be a dick just this one time?

      “Oh.”

      “Did something happen at work?” He sighed. “I can feel this tension between us, Sadie, and it’s making me sick to my stomach. Talk to me, please?”

      I leaned my head against the window and exhaled long and slow. Wetting my lips, I twirled the ends of my hair around a finger.

      “The armor went back on display today, and they added more to the exhibit about its providence, and who it was made for. Lord Byron Ravencroft, illegitimate son of Henry VIII and Lady Catherine Ravencroft, Marquesse of Strathford. Someone tried and convicted of witchcraft in fifteen sixty, and subsequently hung on April twenty-first that year.”

      It was his turn to be uncharacteristically quiet. He pulled into a parking spot outside of what looked to be an old gothic style mansion. It looked like a place vampires would live with curling embellished stone work like an old church almost.

      The only sound in the vehicle was the jingling of his keys and my shaky breathing. He covered his face for a moment then rubbed his neck.

      “Why didn’t you tell me?”

      “That I was executed?”

      “Any of it.”

      “I might look modern, I might sound modern, but my mind is still very much stuck back then. I wasn’t a Fitzroy because my mother had a fire like none other and refused his request. Many never let me forget that I was a bastard. Royal or not I still heard the whispers every time I entered a room. As ridiculous as it may seem to you, I didn’t want you to treat me differently. Gabriella, my sire, was not very strong for a vampire then so my turn was slow. I was still mortal when arrested. Mortal when I walked across the scaffold and put my head in the noose. The rope didn’t snap my neck and instead I suffocated slowly. Twenty-four minutes.

      “Later they said it was proof I was a witch. I was a hereditary Sorcerer but I couldn’t really do much of anything, my mother was a power to be reckoned with. She died the same way I should have. Mary signed her death warrant. All the trees at Tyburn were filled with so many ravens their calls were deafening at both of our executions. I kept expecting to have the last sound I heard to be them taking flight from the tree. That’s how it was at my mother’s hanging, she stopped twitching and the birds took flight.

      “Gabriella cut me down that night, and my throat was so mangled and damaged I couldn’t talk for two weeks. I could hardly feed.” He laughed. “I remember distinctly that those birds were still there when I opened my eyes.” He shook his head. “But I digress. I’m not that person. I haven’t been him for a very long time. What does it matter who those trinkets belonged to? That boy is dead.”

      “You still kept something from me. It hurts, Byron. You should have told me!”

      “I’m sorry.”

      “Of course you are!”

      “Sadie, I don’t want to fight about this.”

      “Then you should have thought about that when you stood in front of that case and let me ramble like an idiot instead of telling me!” I jumped out of the car and slammed the door.

      The temperature had dropped several degrees and I was seriously missing my scarf and maybe a heavier jacket by the time I reached the door to the building. Byron followed behind, the only hint he was there his regular foot falls. I was still angry, the only reason I went into the building was because I didn’t want to be trapped in the car with him any longer. At least looking at the apartment I could flit room to room and avoiding him while pretending to look at the place while I was really avoiding him.

      “It’s the eighth floor,” Byron said stepping to the elevator. He pushed the button for up, fidgeting the entire time and casting nervous glances in my direction. “Sadie,” he sighed my name but didn’t say anymore as the elevator arrived.

      We stepped on together and he hit the glowing button for the eighth floor. We stayed quiet the whole time, however, I was acutely aware of his nervousness. Me being upset with him seemed to make him a bit of a wreck.

      When we reached the eighth floor the Realtor was waiting in the hallway for us with the door to the place wide open. They looked very realtory, blonde, with happy blue eyes and well dressed. She even had that wide realtor smile, the kind that makes you trust people maybe more than you should.

      “Did you have problems finding the place?”

      “No, Sadie ran late at work.”

      “Oh, Hi Sadie, I’m Ginger.”

      “Nice to meet you.”

      “What kind of work do you do?”

      “I’m a docent.”

      “Oh, which museum?”

      “Winthrop Sterling.”

      “I hear they have a great exhibit right now, with some armor or something.”

      “Mhm, it’s armor from a sixteenth century noble and a few of his effects.”

      “Sounds interesting, I’ll have to take my son sometimes he loves all of that stuff. As you can see this place has everything you put on your list, Mr. Ravencroft. Three bedrooms, a study, open floor plan, large kitchen, two and a half baths. There’s a laundry room but as I told you before, they have the service here too. Also there is no lapse in security, and no one can get in or out of the garage without a keycard, or the RFID sticker.”

      “Good, you’ve been amazing, Ginger. Thank you.”

      The apartment was great, but clearly way too much money. Just looking at the ornate molding and the dark hard wood floors I knew there was no way in hell I could ever and I do mean ever afford this place unless I won the lottery. Then again it was in the Park Distrtict, so I shouldn’t have expected any less.

      I moving room to massive room I checked the place out. It was like a mini mansion. It was beautiful place. The problem was after my studio I simply couldn’t see myself living there. Which was why Byron asked the realtor questions I checked out things like the bathrooms, one of which had a jacuzzi tub like the hotel. I turned the light on and got a better look, every surface was black marble, minus the walls which were covered in varying coarse dark stone blocks that seemed to shimmer faintly.

      Could I see myself taking a shower in here?

      I moved back the sliding glass door and stared at the drain. It was too dark.

       I’d never see if my hair dye was running clear.

      Sighing I walked back to the mirror and stared at myself. I looked tired, and my roots were showing a good half inch. Byron walked in then and stared at my reflection in the mirror.

      “What do you think?”

      “I think it looks expensive.”

      He shrugged.

      “Of course you don’t think it’s expensive.”

      “That’s not what I meant by the shrug.”

      “Sure.”

      “Do you want me to take you home? If you don’t like this place we don’t have to stay.”

      “I think it’s impractical.”

      “Sadie.”

      “Byron.”

      He rubbed his temples. “I just want your opinion.”

      “Fine, I think it’s too nice.”

      “So you like it?”

      “It doesn’t matter what I think. You’ll probably be stuck here longer than I will.”

      “What’s that supposed to mean?”

      “It means I’m going to die, or you’ll get tired of me or whatever so it doesn’t really matter what I think. This will be your home not mine.”

      “I want your opinion, even if you don’t want to move in I still want to know what you think.”

      “I think you should stop asking me because it’s irrelevant.” I glanced around. “I’m going home.”

      “Le—”

      “Nope, I’m taking the bus.”

      “Sadie, don’t.” He reached for me and I stepped away from him and left the apartment.

      My departure was unfortunately anticlimactic because of the elevator. I hit the button and he had plenty time to follow me. He stopped behind me, letting me stand in his shadow.

      “I’m sorry.”

      “You’re always sorry.”

      “What else can I say? Tell me what I need to do to make this okay and I’ll do it. I understand that I shouldn’t have kept it from you.”

      “Is there anything else you’re keeping from me?”

      “No.”

      “Are you sure about that?”

      “Yes. You want to know something else? I’m panicking inside right now because I’m worried you’re going to leave here and never speak to me again.”

      “Gee, sounds like something you should probably have considered when you kept that from me.”

      “I was curious about you at the time, we barely knew each other what? Two days? Three?”

      “How many times have I brought up the armor since?”

      “Are you really telling me that we wouldn’t have had this argument if I had told you last week? Or the week before.”

      “I still would have been upset but I might have been a little more understanding. It’s not like this is your first relationship, you don’t get to wiggle out like that.”

      Ding. The door to the elevator opened and Byron’s eyes grew wide and that sorrow which usually lurked in those blue depths threatened to spill over.

      “Please.”

      I sighed.

      “Fine. I won’t go. I just… I’m upset okay!”

      “Come take a look at the place, okay? And then if you don’t like it we can go home and talk more, alright?”

      “I don’t want to talk anymore.”

      “Do you want to hit me?”

      “I don’t know. I’m just so frustrated.” I covered my face and leaned my head back. He was there in an instant, wrapping his arms around me, holding me close. Being in his arms instantly made me feel better.

      Maybe I’m just cranky.

      “After this we can stop on the way home for Chinese, if you’d like. My treat.”

      “We don’t have to. I probably just need a nap.”

      “You also need to eat.” He kissed my forehead and released me.

      “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Geeze, you pass out one time.”

      “I wouldn’t hound you about it, but you didn’t see how close your head came to the edge of that coffee table, I did.”

      “Fine.” I huffed and stepped from his embrace back into the apartment—if you could call it that, the place was huge. “So how many millions is this going to set you back?”

      “Two point four,” he replied without missing a step, leaving me to gape at him.

      “I wasn’t being serious.”

      He shrugged. “I was.”

      “And you have the money for this?”

      “Mhm.”

      “How much would you have if Gabriella hadn’t taken your land and stuff?”

      “I don’t know. I have enough right now that I could probably live a somewhat lavish life and do nothing for a century or so. The trick to making forever bearable is feeling useful, which means doing stuff like working.”

      “Why didn’t she take that from you too?”

      “She doesn’t know about it, Tristan helped me set it up.”

      I nodded. Tristan was the Master of the Pacific Northwest Region, and one of Byron’s oldest friends. From what I understood they had known each other from back when they were both still alive.

      “I like it, I just…”

      “You can’t get passed the price.”

      “Yup.”

      “Don’t worry about the cost, it’s just money.”

      Spoken like someone who probably has no concept of the word budget.

      “Exactly, your money. All I can think is how many times over I could pay off my student loans.”

      “Do you want me to?”

      “Want you to what?”

      “Pay off your debt.”

      I blinked. “I vaguely recall this amazingly gorgeous guy telling me something along the lines of gifts come with a price.”

      “This is different, I love you. I just want to do whatever I can to make you happy.”

      “We’ll revisit the paying off debt thing later. Probably sometime after we’ve been living together for a while.”

      “Alright, I’m going to go write the check.”

      He gave me a quick peck on the cheek before walking briskly over to Ginger, leaving me to stare after him.

Three

Sadie

      If you have a good lawyer, pay in cash and know the right people it only takes six hours to close on a condo. Byron explained it to me on the car ride home. I only half understood what he said, beyond the fact that he’d move in there tomorrow afternoon and help me pack up my place later in the week.

      “I just want to sleep so badly,” I groaned as the car came to a stop, and Byron flashed me a serene smile.

      “We’ll get you food, and then I’ll feed and head to bed. That sound good?”

      “Mhm, tomorrow we can Netflix and coma.”

      With a chuckle, he got out of the car and walked over to my side and opened the door for me. He liked to do that, and it really got on his nerves when I raced ahead to and opened it first. He never said anything, but I could tell it pissed him off just by the set of his jaw afterwards.

      The normal end of the semester panic had set in, so even though it was fast approaching midnight the street was crowded. All I could think about was how great my bed was going to feel as I stumbled toward the building behind Byron who already had his key in hand.

      “Are you going to make it?” He teased glancing back to me, however his look quickly turned to one of horror. In a blink, after moving entirely too fast to ever be confused for human he stood in front of me pressing me into the corner between the call box and the building. “What are you doing here, Liam?” Byron inquired, keeping his voice even as he protectively held his hand back to keep me behind him.

      Standing in the middle of the ebbing and flowing river of people was a man who death glared at Byron. I don’t know how I didn’t see him, he had to have been right behind me when I got out of the car. He was tallish, not exactly short but no one would ever call him tall, with brown eyes and tarnished looking bronze colored hair.

      “Mistress says come home,” the man spoke, crossing his arms.

      Byron shook his head. “I’m staying where I am.”

      “You know what she’ll do if you don’t.”

      “I also know what will happen if I do. So no, Liam, I won’t come ho—go back there.”

      “Next time won’t be a warning.”

      “I expect nothing less.”

      “Next time, you might have that girl’s blood on your hands. Mistress bought dogs, great big mastiffs, and she’s been only feeding ‘em pork. You know what pork tastes like don’t you? Human flesh.”

      I swallowed recalling the threat Gabriella had made weeks before, that if I didn’t stop seeing him. She told me she’d feed me piece by piece to dogs and keep me alive the whole time. At the time, it only mildly bothered me, now it sent a tremor of fear through me which made it impossible for me to still my hands. Seeking comfort, I pressed my cheek to Byron’s back.

      “Either you leave on your own right now or I send you back to her in pieces.” Byron’s voice usually had a deliciously deep quality to it. He had the perfect voice for the discussion of dark deeds done in secret. What I loved most about the rich timbre of his voice was what caused Liam to take a half step backward. “I said right now, and I don’t want to repeat myself.” Byron took a slight start forward and Liam took off running so fast he was literally a blur.

      Byron was silent until we were back upstairs. He made me wait in the hall while he went it first. A minute or two later he came back out holding a gym bag in his hand.

      “We shouldn’t stay here tonight,” he sounded so sad, and I knew why. He felt guilty. My hands were still shaking, even as I stepped in and he locked the door behind me. The upside was all that anger from earlier had dissipated entirely.

      “Alright.”

      “Do you work a lot this week?”

      “No, only Friday.” I shook my head.

      “Good, well… get enough clothes to last you until then.”

      I looked around and sighed. “It’s not your fault, Byron. It was my choice to be with you. To let you feed from me.”

      He nodded and pulled off his beanie before running his fingers back through this dark hair.

      “Don’t stress about it, we’ll stay at a hotel for a few days and I’m sure she’ll get over it.”

      He pursed his lips and opened the bottom drawer of my dresser stuffing his things into the bag. His face was so stern and focused I couldn’t help but to wonder what he was thinking.

      “I love you, and I’m willing to walk through hell for you.”

      He stayed silent but he did look at me with those sad eyes of his. That tremble persisted as I walked around and started gathering things for a four day stay at a hotel. I felt like a moron for the second time that day. A week ago, I had brushed off Gabriella’s threats. She didn’t like the fact that I was taking Byron from her. She was one of those people who felt the need to own people around them—apparently, that’s how most vampires were. I was the fly in the ointment, the impediment to her keeping Byron under thumb for the rest of eternity.

      She also kept her fledglings, read vampires she sired, just on this side of starving by forbidding them to live feed. Live feeding was what they called it when a vampire drank from a living human. Fresh, warm, human blood was the best and by depriving her fledglings of it Gabriella had kept them all effectively under her control. Byron hadn’t even considered straying from her rules and demands until he met me. Gabriella associated me with that lack of control which suddenly had me no longer thinking that threat of her feeding me to her dogs so was outlandish.

      I grabbed my suit case from the back of my closet and started gathering everything I’d need. Panties, bras, clothes and my laptop and books for class. I snagged my makeup bag and tossed it on top. Glancing around my apartment I sighed. Byron was still getting his things together from the bathroom. My mind wandered back to that morning and how happy we’d been. It made my shoulders physically sag with how far south the day had gone.

      “Are you ready to go?” He asked zipping up the duffle bag.

      “Almost.”

      “Would you mind if I took you to class and sat outside? Just until Friday.”

      “What happens Friday, other than me working?”

      “I…” he swallowed. “Nothing.”

      “Byron, didn’t we just have a fight over something a lot less important than this? Please don’t keep things from me.” I stood in front of him and rested my hands on his shoulders. He needed to feed again, I could tell just by looking at him and the way he avoided staring at my pulse.

      “You’re right.” He sighed. “When you’re at work on Friday I’m going challenge her.”

      “Why?”

      “Weren’t you the one who said she needed to die?” He lofted a brow.

      “Well, yeah. But that was before.”

      “Before what? Before she sent some guy to essentially relay word that she bought dogs for the sole purpose of doing exactly what she threatened?” He furrowed his brows and leaned down to rest his forehead against mine. “I love you, Sadie. And to keep you safe this needs to be done.”

      “I want to be there.”

      “If I fai—”

      “You won’t.”

      “How can you be so sure?”

      “Because she kept you weak for a reason.”

      “True, but that doesn’t mean she won’t be stronger than me. And if I do fall there’s no way to guarantee your safety.”

      “I don’t want to live in world where you don’t exist.”

      “Oh, Sadie.” He took my hands and squeezed them. “You’re so young and love feels so intense to you. I’m not saying were our situations reversed I wouldn’t do similar but…you have so much life left to live.”

      “There’s no saying that she won’t come after me anyways. And if I’m going to die, I’d rather be able to get one last look at you—even if it’s just pieces.”

      “Alright then, you’ll come with me.” He kissed my knuckles. “My strength.”

      “We should head out, shouldn’t we?”

      “Mhm.”

      “What hotel are we going to?”

      “We’re not going to hotel.”

      “What?”

      “If I’m going to challenge Gabriella and you’re going to be there we’re going to stay with my friend for a few days.”

      “What friend?”

      “Kennedy. She was almost the master of the region but took herself out of the running because…well you’ll figure it out when you meet her.” He smirked. “She’s quite the character.”

      “Oh?”

      “Yes.” He took a step back from me and nodded a little. “This might work.”

      “Can you tell me about a challenge, I’m assuming it’s just you essentially calling her out and beating the crap out of her but I’d rather know for certain.”

      “Of course. What you described is fairly accurate. I’ll go before her in front of others of our coven—that’s what you call a group of vampires—and then we’ll go to the region’s seat which is that massive tower in the Lexington District. The one that pokes through the clouds just a little shorter than Sterling Tower One.”

      “Oh, where we went when Aleksi gave me protection.”

      “Mhm. And we’ll fight in that big room in front of one hundred of the community.”

      “That doesn’t sound too bad.”

      “Neither does a prize fight, only this will be to the death.”

      We left my apartment and walked across campus carrying in our bags. We wound our way behind a utility building to a roughly paved street that looked half forgotten about half behind sorority row. I almost didn’t see the house it was so covered in weeds and overgrowth. It was tempting to talk Byron out of seeing his friend, but I knew he needed whatever help he could get. Not that he was weak, but I heard enough talk from the vampires I had met to know they only really respected one thing and that was power.

      Before Byron could knock the door opened revealing a woman on the other side wearing a night gown that was yellowed with age and so thin it was see through. She had a wild mop of bright red curls and pretty green eyes that sparkled in the dim light coming from her home. Everything about her was what came to mind when you heard the word pixie. She was petite and so ethereally pale with a tiny nose that tilted up at the very tip.

      “So this is the girl.” She looked me over and then nodded. “Good taste.”

      “Kennedy this is Sadie.”

      “Yeah, I figured as much, Laddie. I’m not blind, you know.” She scoffed. “Come in before you let all of the cold air out. I’m not heating the city you know.”

      Byron led me inside with a hand on the small of my back.

      “Gabriella sent Liam to threaten Sadie.”

      “And you thought, ‘hey, I know a crazy ol’ bitch who’ll take me in’ right?” She snorted leading the way into the small home.

      It was as abandoned looking on the inside as it was on the outside. The wall paper was peeling and everything seemed retro chic that had been left in the rain…only it was inside. Here and there vines actually grew through the wall, threading out like veins. I was afraid to walk around let alone sit.  She stopped outside of a bedroom and gestured at it.

      The room was tiny, barely large enough for a full-sized bed and a small night stand. The closet door was open because it couldn’t close with the bed in the way. The pain was chipping and the bedspread was speckled with plaster than had rained down from the ceiling. I looked up at the ceiling and cringed at the dark brown water spots that covered the entirety of it.

      “Ha! Look at her face, your pretty lass looks like she’s gonna faint! What, Girlie? My room not good enough for ya’?”

      “Nope.” I couldn’t even bring myself to lie, it looked just that bad. I didn’t want to peel back the faded cover and see the kind of shape the bed was in—and I was exhausted.

      “No nonsense, I like that. Most people would have tried to piss around it and then say something about being grateful. But yeah, the rooms a piece of shit, I don’t have a lot of company. Byron’s slept in here a handful of days though. My kitchen doesn’t really work, but the bathroom down the hall is fine. So you’ll have to do something about food, and don’t bring it back here. Last time a mortal stayed with me they left a half open bag of chips and the damn thing attracted rats. Do you know how hard it is to get rats out of walls? Took me half a decade to be rid of the vermin it did. Not that I’m usually averse to them, they just like to bite—natural craving for flesh those buggars have.”

      “It’s not so bad.” Byron offered me a small smile.

      “If you say so.”

      “If you’re going to do it keep it down and I’ll do the same.” She started to walk away.

      “You have a guest?”

      “Oh yes, Laddie. I got myself a wonderful lass with a great set o’ breasts. They’re fake but spectacular.” She cackled, before disappearing into a room at the end of the hall.

      “She’s certainly something.” I shook my head and walked to the bed.

      “That she is. I didn’t know about the no food rule.”

      “It’s fine.”

      “You’ll faint again.”

      “If I do the bed is right there.” I poked the bed with my toe.

      “It’s more comfortable than it looks.” He ushered me in and closed the door behind me.

      As exhausted as I was I kind of didn’t want to sleep in what looked like the worst motel room ever. Byron unzipped his hoodie, and set his gun on the nightstand after checking the clip.  He actually chambered a round before pulling off his t-shirt revealing that chest of his that was so perfect it deserved to be on a fifty-foot-tall billboard somewhere. He rubbed his neck, his fingers tracing over that slight stubble that adored.

      “How bad is it really?” I asked watching him strip down. He sat on the bed and pulled off his Chuck Taylor sneakers before undoing his belt and unbuttoning his jeans. My eyes were riveted to him as he raised his hips and slipped out of those tight worn jeans.

      “It’s…” He pursed his lips. “It could get bad. But you’re safe here.”

      “I have class on Wednesday.”

      “I know, and I’ll walk you to class and we’ll come back here.”

So it’s really bad and you’re not going to tell me because you don’t want to worry me. Great. Spec-freaking-tactular.

I lulled my head back and heard the bed squeal as he shifted again, drawing my attention. He only wore his underwear at this point. Jockeys hugged his thighs tight and admittedly I drooled a little and forgot all about the horror house around us and the imminent threat. All I cared about was that Byron was stripped down to his undies and I could pretty much do everything I wanted to him.

I slipped my jacket off and sighed. I was too fatigued to take the rest of my clothes off. Groaning I fell forward on the bed, half bound by my half off jacket. Byron chuckled.

“Poor, Sadie.” He cooed stalking over to me. Without missing a moment, he untangled my jacket from around me and flipped me over.

“Exhausted Sadie.” I whined.

“You can sleep soon enough.”

“Mhm, so much sleep.” I purred nuzzling his thigh.

“If you’re too tired you don’t have to feed me.”

“No, I want to. Just…” I sighed. “Okay, let me get out of my shirt,” I mumbled without opening my eyes. He snickered in response and I felt his lips graze my pulse. My whole body stiffened in response and that dull throb of arousal began as my body grew moist and ready just from the simple promise.

It was practically Pavlovian, Vampires conditioned humans to expect pleasure from their bite. It wasn’t intention it simply happened. Which was why even though I was half asleep and I could only feel the phantom warmth of his body over mine as his damp breath caressed my neck I still pushed my knees together.

My fingers found their way to my blouse on their own as I sleep undressed for him. He coaxed me on, placing soft kisses traced in my hand’s wake as I opened my blouse. The last kiss upon my stomach sent a shiver down my spine that made me writhe and gasp on the scratchy comforter.

“Mm, there is no sweeter sound in the world than that little gasp you make when startled by your own pleasure. Except maybe your laugh.” He kissed, licked and nibbled his way up my body. He peeled me out of my shirt as he neared my throat.

“You know what the sweetest thing in the world is? Sleep.” I giggled and he nipped at my pulse playfully making my breath catch.

“Both sounds, what a treat.” His fingertips trailed back through my hair, the gesture making me tilt my head to the side, arching my neck and exposing my pulse. The cool air against my skin made me purr into the moonlit room as he nosed that stretched tendon.

I kept my eyes closed as he pulled me into his lap, and I was greeted by the sensation of his hard chest behind me as he continued his playful kissed and nips along his favorite feeding spot. His hand skittered down my flesh to rest low on my stomach as he pulled me closer to him. There were different ways to feed, we had recently discovered if he fed too high or I moved too much it hurt enough to make me scream. Ever since then he had been exceedingly careful with me.

This time wasn’t an exception, his hand wound its way in my hair making certain my neck was taut before he gently sunk his fangs into my flesh. A sharp, startled, pleasured gasp broke my lips and he held me tighter as he fed. That hand of his simply resting so maddeningly close to my body come alive with that demanding throb that seemed to pulse along with my heart.

However, I felt myself growing faint, and like the time before I placed my hand on his and pushed at him right before my consciousness slipped from me. This time I was luckily on the middle of a bed, and not straddling on him a couch. There would be no backwards summersaulting for me, only blissful, dreamless unconsciousness.