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“Just catching up,” he says. “You were right. This piazza is lovely this time of year.”
She claps her hands. “I agree.” She turns toward me. “Elsie, dear. I took the liberty of putting your bag back in the honeymoon suite. Mr. Smith, yours is in the room opposite hers. I do hope that’s all right.”
“That sounds perfect,” he answers with a warm smile.
“How about a nice bowl of gumbo for lunch? I have some leftovers that are begging to be eaten.”
I look at the vampire in front of me. “That would be lovely.”
“It sounds perfect,” he agrees. “Thank you, Miss Hawthorne.”
“Oh, please. Call me Francis.” She looks between the two of us. “I think you two are going to be my favorite guests so far.” She turns, disappearing into the house.
“It seems we’re being beckoned for lunch,” Thorne says, holding his arm toward me. “Shall we?”
I don’t know whether to attack him, kiss him, or wrap my arm through his. I choose the latter, hooking my arm through his, and allowing him to lead me back through the windows into the sitting room.
“We have much to talk about,” I whisper loud enough for his ears only as we join Ms. Francis at the table. She’s mysteriously placed three already warm bowls of gumbo on the table and is waiting for our return. He nods in response.
I fight the urge to stare at the man that I’ve dreamed about for centuries. His features are more pronounced than I remember. Strong cheekbones accentuate his angular face. The once dark hair that stayed tied at his neck is now short and wavy, giving him a more modern look. Deep grey eyes hold the same intensity I remember from centuries ago. Sitting at the dining room table of his home in Charleston feels surreal.
“Tell me about yourself, Thorne,” Francis interrupts.
He huffs a laugh. “There isn’t much to tell. My family comes from Upstate. I love to visit Charleston whenever I can. The history is amazing here.”
“That’s true,” she agrees. “It’s what brought Elsie here, too.” She smiles at me. “How do you two know each other?” Ms. Francis is ruthless with her questioning.
“We know each other from…” he stumbles over his words.
“From college,” I interrupt. “We have a few classes together. Neither of us realized we were staying in the same city during spring break.”
Francis laughs. “Is that so?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he answers, pulling on a Southern drawl. “We met in history class, ironically.” Thorne takes a small sip of the gumbo. I’ve never seen a vampire eat food before.
“Seems you two are a good match.” She smiles once more. “I’m going after more cornbread. Would anyone else care for a piece?”
“No, thank you,” we say in unison. I watch her leave the room before moving vampire speed to the trash and pouring part of my meal out. I’m back in my seat well before she enters the room carrying a slice of brown cake.
“Would you like more, Elsie?”
I pat my stomach for dramatic effect. “No, thank you. I’m stuffed.”
“Why don’t we go for a walk?” Thorne asks after we help Ms. Francis clean the dishes from lunch.
“I’d like that.” We exit the house, moving toward the river. We have three hundred years of history to discover, but we walk in silence.
“Tell me about your life,” I ask as we approach the moving water. “How did you become a vampire?”
We find a bench near the water’s edge, sitting side by side. “I asked.”
“You asked?” I repeat his words.
“If Kragen didn’t change you, who did?”
Thorne runs a hand through his messy curls. “After arriving here, my shipping company was in charge of exchanging goods with the city of New Orleans. I made the trip once a year, and each time I would search for someone who held the answer to my desires. It was on one of those trips that I met him.”
“A vampire?”
