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“Better than normal?”
“Well . . . different. What happened?”
“Nothing happened. That’s just the thing. I’m not a dhampyr. I’m not a hunter. I don’t get a scar every time I get cut or shot. I didn’t lose my eye because I never fought with the vampire who clawed it out with his fingernails.” He raised an eyebrow. “What do you think of that?”
“I’m speechless, that’s what I think. You look—”
“Like I could be part of your real life.”
“Actually, you do.” I smiled and entwined my fingers with his. “No more vampires. No more running for our lives. We can be together. It’s perfect.”
His expression shadowed. “It’s not perfect.”
“What?”
“Your blood . . .” His brows drew together.
I felt something warm on my face and swiped my hand under my nose. I was bleeding, dark red blood that looked almost black. My heart sank at the sight of it. “I’m the one who doesn’t fit in now, aren’t I?”
“I wish I could help you.” His gaze moved to the right and his expression tensed. “Maybe he can.”
I turned my head to look. The sun was bright outside, and there was a man standing in the doorway staring at me so intently I couldn’t believe I hadn’t noticed him yet. It was Declan—the scarred version. One eye. Ragged from ten years of hunting vampires. Wearing a black leather jacket that had seen better days.
He wasn’t smiling.
“Jill . . .” he said.
I immediately rose from the table and went toward him, but it felt as if the air had thickened, making it difficult to move. Panic snaked through me.
Declan jerked forward a step as if he’d been hit from behind. He gasped for breath, then clamped his scarred hand against his stomach and looked down at it. Bright red blood gushed through his fingers. When he looked up at me, I noticed his throat was now slit as well. Blood pumped out of him with every beat of his slowing heart.
I couldn’t breathe. I tried desperately to fight through whatever this was that was holding me back.
“Declan!” I woke up screaming and clutching at the solid form in front of me.
“I’m here,” Declan soothed, stroking my hair. “It was just a nightmare. It’s okay, Jill. You’re okay.”
I pulled back from him and searched his face, my eyes wide. He was here. He was alive. “I thought that I . . . I thought that you—that you were—”
“Whatever it was, it wasn’t real.” He held my face between his hands and wiped my tears away. “I know all of this has been a struggle for you, but it’s almost over. Try to be strong for just a little while longer. Can you do that?”
I nodded soundlessly.
“Jill . . .” Declan began after a few silent moments went by. He was frowning.
“What?”
“That experiment last night . . .”
I eyed him. “What about it?”
“Do you regret it? Do you wish we hadn’t even tried?”
I hesitated. “You really want to know how I felt about it?”
“Yes.”
“It was amazing, but . . .”
