Chapter 11

Eliza wouldn’t allow any further discussion about her goodbyes, or what she was running from. Instead, she led the way up the final elevator to the top of the Eiffel Tower.

I hated it. I hated the sway, the rushing wind, and the crowds that pulsed from wall to edge. It didn’t matter that fencing kept us safely inside; it felt like one wrong move would send the whole tower toppling to the ground.

“Are you afraid?” Eliza asked, realizing I lingered on the inner walls instead of venturing toward the rails.

“So what if I am?” I replied stiffly, shivering at the harsh wind.

Eliza laughed, and the sound was heaven and hell. “You’re literally invincible.”

I raised a finger. “We’re not, though, only immortal, and I don’t want to test the boundaries of that by falling to my death.”

“How old are you, anyway?” Eliza fell into step beside me, content to abandon the outer railing.

I hummed. “Somewhere in the unfortunate realm of two hundred.”

Her eyes widened, and her lips parted in an irresistible ‘O’ shape. Something dark flashed in her face, and I worried I’d lost her again before she spoke. “I’ve been a vampire for a while—long enough to see that I will never age, never change, long enough to understand what living forever means. Sometimes, it’s hard to face the reality that I will still be this in two centuries. Still look like this. Still feel like this.”

“You won’t,” I said. “Sure, you will always look the same, but I’ve been a hundred different people in my lifetimes. You won’t feel like this forever.”

“A hundred people,” she echoed. “Sounds lonely.”

A lump formed in my throat, and I forced a smile. I wasn’t sure how to tell her that exploring new facets of myself was how I found solace and adventure in my years of life; I wasn”t sure she’d understand. If I had to guess based on her words, she’d likely been a vampire for a few decades—maybe less.

Eliza continued to lead the way, walking in circles around the pathway. I lingered in the middle and watched when she wandered closer to the railing. Every time the sun hit her dark hair just right, it revealed caramel highlights, and the light made her eyes glow.

I could have watched her forever.

This was dangerous.

While part of me longed to know Eliza—everything about her—the other part already knew how this would end. Like everything else in my life had already ended: in goodbye.

No matter how pretty her eyes or how her laugh gave me butterflies, she kept pushing me away. She ran after the aquarium when our companionship started feeling too comfortable. So far, she had mostly refused to talk about anything real—her life, her pain, her. She obviously had trauma she hadn’t yet worked through, and I wasn’t sure I was in any emotional position to be someone’s anchor. I couldn’t stop my heart from bleeding, how was I supposed to stop hers?

Except, that was the thing… my heart was eternally bleeding, and I longed for someone to permanently stitch it closed.

Maybe that’s why I brought her to the Eiffel Tower… and left the flower on her blanket… and followed her in the Louvre.

And maybe that’s why I abandoned her on top of the Eiffel Tower, slipping into the crowded elevator when her back was turned.