Page 47 of Fangs

A demon.

“That is why they call us Original, Elemental.” he continues, his voice flat. “We are not turned. We are gifted. And very rare.”

My mind is a whirlwind of terror and confusion and a fascination I refuse to name.

He sees it. Of course he sees it. He sees everything.

“You have so many questions about vampires,” he says, his voice gentle. “I have something for you. Come with me.”

He leads me from the ballroom, down a narrow spiral staircase, deeper into the tower. The air grows colder, damper, thick with the scent of old paper and dust.

He pushes open a heavy door, and I gasp.

Shelves stretch from floor to ceiling, crammed with books of every size and color. Rolling ladders lean against the stacks. Comfortable chairs cluster around a massive fireplace. The ceiling arches overhead, painted with constellations I don’t recognize.

It is magnificent. It is perfect.

“I brought you here,” Blake says, watching my face, “because I know you love books. The shadows have been watching you long before you stepped into this house.”

I tear my gaze from the shelves to stare at him. “You mean stalking me?”

“Taking care of you.” His smile is innocent, but his eyes are not. “Would you prefer I say I have been observing you with great interest?”

“I would prefer you stop spying on me.”

“Impossible.” He crosses to a shelf, running his fingers along the spines. “The shadows are possessive. They have claimed you. As have I.”

My cheeks heat. “So the shadows are possessive, not you?”

He turns, and the look in his eyes steals my breath. “I am the one who sent them, Lucille. I am the one who wants you. The shadows are merely an extension of my deepest will.”

He gestures to the room around us. “This library is yours. For as long as you are here. Read anything you like. Stay as long as you want.”

I spin around the library, my heart aching with a longing I can’t name. “So we can’t be together? Outside of this tower?”

He is silent for a long moment. When he speaks, his voice is rough. “We have this week. While you are in heat. While you are isolated.” He steps closer, his hand finding my chin, tilting my face up. “After that, you must leave. It is the only way to keep you safe.”

“Only five days.” The words escape me, and I hear the tears in my voice. “Five days.”

His thumb strokes my cheek, wiping away a tear I didn’t realize had fallen. “Lucille, the stars took three millennia to align us, I would happily spend eternity watching them burn out, just to hold your hand for a single heartbeat. If five days is all we have, it would already be worth my entire existence.”

I stare at him, my heart breaking and mending all at once. “You can’t mean that.”

“I have never meant anything more.” His eyes search mine. “I have seen empires rise and fall. I have watched civilizations crumble to dust. I have felt nothing. Nothing but hunger and cold and emptiness.”

His hand cups my face, and his forehead presses against mine. “And then you came. You, with your fire and your stubbornness and your impossible, beautiful heart. And for the first time in three thousand years, I felt alive.”

I reach up, my fingers finding his hair. It is soft, like silk. “Blake…”

“I love you, Lucille.” The words tear out of him, raw and desperate. “I have loved you from the moment I saw you in that portrait. I did not know it then. But I know it now. I have loved you for three thousand years, and I will love you for three thousand more. Whether you stay. Whether you go. Whether you ever speak my name again.”

Breath seizes in my chest. Thought shatters like glass. There is only the raw pulse of feeling flooding every nerve.

“I love you,” he repeats, and his voice breaks. “I love you, and I can’t bear the thought of letting you go. But I will. I will let you go, because your safety is more important than my happiness. Because you deserve more than a monster in a tomb.”

I pull him closer. “You are not a monster.”

“I am exactly what you feared.” He laughs, but there is no humor in it. “A demon. A creature of darkness.”