Chapter 13

Iloved too easily. I loved too deeply. I fell in love with the wrong people.

I lay awake later that night, mentally cataloging a list of reasons why every relationship I’d ever had ended in despair.

I was immortal, and goodbye was a permanent part of my life.

When I ran out of reasons, I listed why I couldn’t stop thinking about Eliza. I wished I could chalk it up to her being pretty and leave it there, but it was deeper than that. I recognized her sadness and the grief she displayed so clearly on her face. Her suffering was a siren call to my soul, and I was helpless against it.

Her laugh gave me butterflies and her smile made me dizzy. When she thought I wasn’t watching, she looked at Paris with the sort of awe only an innocent could. The sunshine made her eyes glow, and if I could drown in the blue of them, I thought that would be a good way to go.

What if I could ease her pain, if only for a moment?

What if I could show her it wouldn’t last forever?

I thought about what she’d said on the Eiffel Tower. She’d been a vampire long enough to understand the true gravity of immortality but not long enough to experience it entirely.

For me, being a vampire meant reinventing myself repeatedly, finding new facets of myself that were interesting and latching onto them—because yes, spending eternity as precisely the same person would be a form of monotonous torture. It meant using pseudonyms when I participated in riding competitions. It meant becoming someone new in a new city every decade or so, letting people get to know me, making friends, and building a life for myself—only to let it all go when they inevitably noticed I never changed.

It meant saying goodbye to every mortal I’d ever cared about.

And vampires, while more steadfast in their lifespan than mortals, were fickle in their attentions. While I preferred to live in one place for as long as possible, most vampires chose not to take the risk. I’d met a few over the years. When I lived in Virginia, I was friends with a nurse named Cassandra. She’d left a few months into her stay in Richmond, claiming some other city and hospital needed her. Every couple years, I met up with a friend of mine from Jamaica; Amelia never stayed in one place for longer than a few weeks, though she was a delight each time we encountered each other.

Even my brother spent most of his immortal life hopping from country to country. I wasn’t sure how long he’d been living in Paris or how long he planned to stay—probably much longer than anticipated now that he had Addie.

Perhaps it seemed ridiculous to ponder love and companionship when I’d had approximately two conversations with Eliza, but I knew myself. I knew how easily my heart fell.

I remembered how much it hurt when it did.

The next morning, I ignored the ache in my heart and left early for the barn. At least, while there, I could forget about Eliza for a little while.

And it worked… for the most part.

When I got there, Ghost was amped up and ready to work. For the first hour, he was unmanageable. I let him run as much as he needed, then put him on a lunge line and worked him more.

By the time he was ready to jump, sweat was crusted on my brow and dripping down my back. I was tired and frustrated, and my mind wandered when I should have been counting strides. Ghost was, thankfully, trained well enough to manage a couple of jumps, but it was quickly apparent that if my heart wasn’t in it, his wasn’t going to be either.

I huffed and slumped against his neck. “I’m sorry, buddy. We’re done for today.”

His only answer was a huff.

I took him back to his stall and was about to start grooming him when my phone vibrated. I picked it up to see a message from Willa.

Eliza’s outside the apartment. What should I do?

She sent a picture a millisecond later, her phone peeking around the corner of the building to show Eliza sitting on the bench across the street. She sat sideways, her knees to her chest and a book in her hands. Her pink backpack was at her feet.

She came back.

The swelling of my heart made me uneasy, and I rocked on my heels a couple times before replying.

I’m super busy at the barn. I guess just leave her there? It’s not like she knows you, so she won’t talk to you.

Willa’s response was immediate. Wren and I are here working. I’ll keep an eye on her. Text me when you’re on your way home.

Will do.

I tucked my phone back in my pocket and pat Ghost on the shoulder. “How about a good, long grooming today, boy?”

It took over an hour, but by the time I was finished, Ghost was glistening and I was out of things to do. I’d washed and massaged and cleaned every inch of him. After four treats from me and a red licorice from Jane, Ghost was content to go back into his stall for the night.

As I readied myself to leave, I wondered if Eliza was still there. What did she want? Had she come to tear me to shreds for leaving her behind? I wouldn’t blame her if that were the case; I wouldn’t want to be abandoned on the top of the Eiffel Tower either.

I supposed I had that to apologize for.

I planned to follow Willa”s advice. I wanted to get to know Eliza, but I refused to do so unless she was willing to be more open and honest with me and herself. Her emotions were not my responsibility.

I reminded myself of that at least a dozen times on the train ride home.

I walked slower than usual out of the metro stop and around the corner to my apartment building, unsure whether or not I wanted Eliza to be waiting. It had been at least two hours since Willa texted me, and I wasn’t sure how long she’d been there beforehand.

There she was.

I lingered in the shadow of the building for a moment, watching her turn the pages of the tattered book in her hand. A fleece blanket, the same one she had in the gardens, was over her lap.

Steeling myself, I crossed the street and approached her bench.

“I thought you might be avoiding me,” she said as I stopped beside her, not looking up.

I wrinkled my brow. “Why would I do that?”

Her eyes flicked up. “Cowardice for leaving me at the Eiffel Tower.”

I stiffened. “Excuse me?”

“Why’d you do it?” Her voice was as sharp as ice, cutting through my heart.

“I feel like I can’t get to know you, like you don’t want me to know you,” I blurted, forcing my voice to be as cold as hers. “I felt like I was forcing conversation at the tower, and you didn’t want me there. And while I like the girl I saw at the park and the aquarium, I don’t have it in me to keep searching for her if she’s not really there.”

Eliza blinked a few times, clearly taken aback.

I barrelled on. “I think you’re beautiful,” I said. “And you have a spectacular laugh, and if you were anyone else, I would be flirting with you to no end. But you make me work to get two sentences out of you, and my time is worth more than that. I’m worth more than that.”

“Oh,” she said.

I huffed. “Why are you here, Eliza?”

She swallowed. “Do you want to get a drink?”