I recoiled so hard that I stumbled over a chair and he caught me. He’d been across the room, but it took him a fraction of a second to be at my side. After shoving him away, I made a show of straightening myself up, fighting the churning in my stomach.

“But… you said—”

“I said I didn’t want to, and that I don’t want to hurt you,” he replied, as if this clarification was adequate.

“But, all your training, living a different life. What does that mean?”

“I still need to feed,” his tone patronizing. “I try to be selective. I pick the bad guys out there.”

“Who?”

“Murderers, mostly.”

“Oh. Well. That’s good.” It was good, right? Nevermind the fact that, technically, I knew I should be classed a murderer, too. I’d killed people. My heart jumped.

He narrowed his eyes at me. “Good? I just told you I kill people.” Still squinting at me. Was he inside my head? What if he knew what I’d done?

“Yes, but not people that don’t deserve it,” I ventured.

“I’m a murderer. Just like them.”

Don’t think it, Jess. Don’t think it.

“Not like them. You’re not a bad person,” I said.

“We’ve been here. I’m not a person.”

“Why are you doing this? If you want me so much, why are you still doing all you can to push me away?”

“It’s not safe for you to be with me.” Regret ebbed across his face.

“We’ve been through this, too. I know you won’t hurt me. You admitted that you only kill bad people. I’m not a murderer. So what’s the problem?” The lie left a bitter taste in my mouth. I swallowed hard.

“What’s the problem?” he was suddenly shouting. “Jess, you’re unbelievable. For one, I did just tell you that your scent drives me wild with hunger. And for another, it’s not just me that you have to worry about if you stick around in my world. Alexander, the Bael, the hunters—”

“The hunter.” I’d forgotten all about that little gem. “He wants to kill you?”

Fingers of fear reached up and clutched at my throat. This time, not for my safety, but for his.

“You’re worrying about me again? Seriously?! It’s taken care of,” he dismissed.

“Taken care of. Like the movies. That means he’s dead, right?”

“I didn’t do it, though I would have, eventually.”

I took a deep breath and quickly ran through the remaining questions that were still plaguing me.

“Who exactly are the Bael?” Bay-el. He always dragged out the syllables slowly, bitterly. I presumed they were another gang.

“Not any old gang, the worst one imaginable. The governing body in our… community. Old, viscous and entirely self-serving,” he hissed.

His mood was sullen once more and I predicted it would only get worse if I carried down that line of questioning. How was I supposed to lighten the mood, pep up the atmosphere, whilst learning about the grisly details of vampire life? I sighed to myself.

“So, how much of the movies is right? I mean, all the garlic and holy water stuff?”

He looked pleased by the change of direction at least, his shoulders visibly relaxing. “Forget it, the vast majority of what you think you know about us is crap. Silver weakens us. A stake to the heart hurts. The sunlight thing is half right. It doesn’t kill us, but it’s uncomfortable. The longer we’re exposed to it the harder it gets. It dulls our senses, subdues us gradually. But as we get older, it gets harder and harder. Once we start getting to two hundred years we can’t go out in it anymore. I guess it would kill the really old ones…”

I thought about the silver necklace my mother gave me, sitting in my underwear drawer. I would start wearing it again.

“That’s why you were sitting in the shade the morning after the accident, on the beach. I was sitting in the baking sun. I knew something had seemed odd about that at the time,” I mused.

“You think that was the oddest part? Your miraculous good health didn’t escape your notice, either.”

“No. Wow. You’re so fast, and strong. You did a pretty good job of convincing me it was all in my head.”

“That night was the first time I realised you were so different. I should have known what you were going to do with my Harley. If my instincts didn’t sense it, then I should at least have heard you thinking it, seeing as it concerned me. But there was nothing. You’re impossible to read sometimes, you act before you think. People say ‘I didn’t think before I did it’, but actually that’s impossible. Not with you though,” he was inching back towards me, an urgent gleam in those liquid-copper eyes.

I didn’t know what I’d done in the last minute to change his mood, but he was definitely looking at me with that hunger again. Not the scary kind, just the passionate, needing kind, the one that made my heart race. I licked my lower lip as he held out his hands to me.

“I don’t understand how you do it. Your thoughts are a second or two behind your actions, but that impulsiveness, it really turns me on. Like when I kiss you, and for once, I can’t see what you’re going to do. I’m not used to that. It drives me crazy. And scares the fuck out of me.”

Pulling me into a sensual embrace, our heaving chests pressed together. My heart was hammering so loud in my ears, heaven knows what it sounded like to him.

“It has nothing to do with my weird mind, it’s all down to you. When you kiss me I can’t think of anything. It stuns me into a stupor.”

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“Don’t be. I’m the luckiest girl alive.” His neck was right there, I couldn’t resist letting my tongue tentatively glide along it.

His chest stopped heaving as he held his breath.

“Alive being the operative word,” he mumbled, withdrawing to safer ground.

I slumped into a chair and closed my eyes. A tidal wave of exhaustion crashed over me.

“You need to sleep,” he said.

I didn’t argue.

* * *

I awoke the next morning in a strange bed, with a stiff neck and a sore head. Memories and ideas rushed at me like a battering ram, pounding away and making it hurt more. I rolled over with a groan and tried to go back to sleep, but it was no use. There was so much to think about, so much I didn’t want to think about.

He was lying next to me, staring at the ceiling, fingers locked across his chest.

“What are you thinking?” I asked.

“I’m thinking you should do what you are thinking,” he replied impassively.

“I don’t even know what that is. Enlighten me.”

“Go. Spend time by yourself, getting your head around things. Don’t be sorry for being afraid of me.”

“Is that what you want? For me to go?” My eyes stung.

He refused to look at me. “Yes,” he said, without any emotion.

It wasn’t true. There was no way he really wanted me to leave. But he’d gone into a meditative-like silence and he wouldn’t budge.

Everyone was against us — his gang; their uneasiness around me made more sense now. My best friend, his brother, Danny, the crowds of jealous girls that surrounded us daily — no one wanted to see me on his arm. And fuck me, even he was against us in some messed-up way. What exactly was I even fighting for?

There was a plethora of reasons for leaving and I could think of only a handful for staying. After another thirty minutes of nothingness I gave in, took the advice, and left.

* * *

I’m not too sure what happened over the next week. I was drunk a lot, no surprise there. Doing things I shouldn’t. I dragged Anna out, telling her I’d had a fight with Zac. But I was a dick. I tried getting her to do the whole lesbian act again which rightly made her furious at me. So instead I went and pulled another girl and slept with her. I was trying to hurt him because I knew he was watching me. I couldn’t sleep with another man for fear of him hurting them. But women? He wouldn’t hurt a woman, right?

I bumped into William one night and started taking the piss out of his heavy-metal jewellery and guy-liner. He took it on the chin with a smile and latched onto me, rambling on about how worried Anna was for me, how I should listen to her and forget Zac. He inched closer to me and it suddenly felt weird being alone with him, without Anna, so I ditched him fast.

My shifts at the firehouse were painful. Danny avoided me like I had herpes. The crew flirted and joked, but they were off, they’d distanced themselves. It felt like everyone only put on a front, pretending to be okay with me. Maybe I was just paranoid.

Zac was everywhere I went, always in the background, until I forced him out of hiding. I was sitting on the ground behind a building, in the dark, dirty part where they put the trash out. Broken glass had found its way into my hand and I was running the sharp point along my wrist.

I honestly have no idea why. I did know I didn’t want to kill myself. I guess I was thinking about the blood and what would happen if he smelled it. Anyway, I never had the chance to find out because he appeared from the darkness and snatched it away. I laughed wildly and declared with smugness that I knew he’d been following me.

“For how long?” I shrieked.

“All the time, every day.”

“Why?”

“Why are you doing this to me?”

“I asked first.”

“To stop you doing anything stupid. No —,” he corrected himself. “Everything you’ve done so far has been stupid. To stop you doing anything too stupid.”

“You’re the one that told me to go. I don’t need you protecting me, I need protection from you,” I spat in a nasty voice that I didn’t even recognise. I regretted it instantly because he pretty much vanished into thin air.

Another night or three of spiralling anger and hurt, then I started clearing shit up. I was supposed to be getting better, avoiding the crashing lows after the highs. I had to make a choice, one that didn’t involve going back on meds to fix things. This was not the right direction. Either stay and sort myself out, or get off the island and sort myself out. Either way, the overriding decision had to be; Sort. Myself. Out.

* * *

The beach was hot and sticky. I sat and let the sand absently run through my fingers. He was watching, from afar. This had to be one of the sunniest places to live. A beach town?! Come on, aren’t vampires supposed to live somewhere more… woody? Rainy and grey?

I used it to my advantage, anyway. I’d been forcing my ass out of bed and into the daylight on purpose. Lazing on the beach under azure skies, knowing damned well it would be hurting him to be out like that. Getting some sick pleasure out of it. Wanting him to hurt as much as me.

I shuddered involuntarily. He was probably thinking about killing me right then, about how good I’d taste.

His chin dropped and his shoulders slumped.

Great, and of course he was still reading my thoughts.

He got up and walked away, round the corner.

His sudden absence left me feeling more frightened than when he was there watching me. I felt so alone in that moment, looking around at the crowded beach. How many of them could be vampires, too? Probably none in that sunshine, but what about in the evenings, when it was even more rammed? Would he protect me from them if they took a fancy to me?

And then he was beside me.

“Oh,” I gasped.

“Your wish is my command, Ma’am,” he smiled for the first time in forever and my heart felt like bursting.

“Calling me Ma’am is cheating. How can I stay angry with that in my ears?”

“I’ll do whatever you want me to. If you don’t want me here, I’ll go. If you do, then I’m yours. I’m done watching from afar like an angst-ridden teen.”

I searched deep into his eyes. I couldn’t decipher what I wanted.

“And if you’re confused, I’ll take the initiative and do what I want,” he leant back, sticking his legs out and stretching his hands behind his head in a gesture that mimicked my own the other night.

“I don’t know how you can sit there so smugly, right beside me, knowing that you want to kill me. You’ve got a nerve.”

That sounded a lot better in my head than it did out loud. I meant it to be a playful, teasing remark. Guess it didn’t come out right. His face darkened as he gave a bitter laugh.

“Straight in there with the heavy stuff again, then? Have we even had a honeymoon period?” he asked.

“Technically, you need wedding night action first, to have a honeymoon period,” I reminded him, digging a finger into the sand and prodding around for shells.

“I don’t want to kill you, otherwise I already would have. I just have… instincts.”

“I bet that’s what all the serial killers say in court.”

Jesus. Shut the fuck up, Jess. More stupid words slipping out that left me wanting to scoop them up and shovel them back down.

“Don’t feel sorry,” he muttered. “I’m glad you’re seeing me for what I really am. Now all you need to do is tell me to leave.” He looked pleadingly at me.

“You’re not like that. I didn’t mean it.”

He made some sort of sighing-snort noise.

“What? A second ago you admitted that you want to be here with me and now, once again, you’re trying to leave?” I asked.

“I’m trying to do the right thing for you. But your thoughts change so frequently, I can’t keep up with them. I have no idea what you really want.”

“Isn’t worrying about what I want my problem? I’ll figure it out myself. You just focus on what you want.” I froze, realising what I had said.

“See, that doesn’t work out too well for you either, does it?”

“No… yes… I mean, if you think about what you want, not what that other part of you is saying you need.”

“The two are so intricately linked, it’s hard to separate them.”

“Am I in danger from you right now?”

“No,” he said instantly.

“Then you’re separating them, and this is what I want.”

I jumped into his lap, wrapping my legs behind him, and kissed those sexy lips.