Hildreth curled up on the couch with “A Lovely Woman Meets A Fellow” – a sweepingly romantic retelling of The Brady Bunch. Within minutes, he was hopelessly looped into the book.
Jan stood in the heather-strewn moors. Her heart ached for everything that Marcia had. Her heart ached for the life that was forever forbidden to her. Her, the ugly middle child. The ugly duckling who was doomed to grow into an ugly duck. She raised her head into the wind and her hair blew like dead corn stalks. Stiff and unattractive.
Marcia’s hair would have flowed like music and enchanted the heather itself. Marcia was a precious fuzzy duckling that people said, “Aww.” about. She would surely turn into a swan.
But Jan was not Marcia.
She would never, ever be Marcia.
And it killed her deep inside.
She wept and the moors’ cruel wind whipped away her tears.
He raised his head. “Huh?”
She stood before him – clean and fully dressed. Her slightly damp hair was twisted into a braid.
Hildreth set the book on the couch. “Well, boo on you. I thought for sure you’d be dressed in only a towel. Nice work disappointing a guy.”
“It’s hard to fight vampires in a towel.”
“I bet you could do it.”
“I’m sure I could, but I won’t.”
“It would be an amazing spectacle.”
“You would think so.”
He looked surprised. “What? It would be.”
“Idiot.” She cupped his face in between her hands.
He closed his eyes and leaned his head back.
“My own dear idiot. I love you.” She kissed him.
He sighed happily and returned every kiss.
Ambrose watched Kevin sleep.
Kevin’s face twitched. His arms and legs spasmed. All in all, he looked like a dog in the middle of an intense dream.
It would be easy for me to kill him. Just as it would be easy for me to let N1 into my life as my blood letter.
But neither one would be right.
Kevin will be fine as soon as he gets through these last days. It wouldn’t be right to kill him.
Maybe some day he will be killed. He is a werewolf.
And no one likes werewolves. There aren’t any pro-werewolf coalitions like there are for vampires. It makes sense. Vampires, for all of their danger and mayhem, look human. Werewolves, on the other hand, are the stereotypical Big Bad Wolves come to blow your house down and eat your infants from their cribs.
Kevin squeaked and yipped in his sleep.
I will not be the one to kill him. Ambrose chuckled. Amazingly enough.
His thoughts turned to Barbara.
She is good and patient and super understanding.
But even she would never understand my taking on a blood letter. Perhaps she would try to. I know she would try.
But the relationship between a vampire and a blood letter is an uncertain thing. I could become dangerously possessive about her. She might become possessive about me. She might want something more from me. She might throw down the “I give you so much. I give you my blood every day. You should give something back to me.” card.
And there is a possibility I would yield.
I can’t do that to Barbara. I can’t.
Kevin settled down and fell into peace.
Ambrose focused on Barbara. Her wavy honey-blonde hair. The love and trust in her eyes every time she looked at him.
The simple fact that she loved him at all.
She loves me.
She wants to marry me.
She wants me.
And I love her.
He saw her smile.
Heard her giggle.
Felt her touch.
Kevin’s garbage scent ceased to bother Ambrose.
He thought of Barbara and he felt peace.