5. Maisie

Chapter five

Maisie

I decide to take my new pact with myself seriously and go for a walk the following day. I drive up the mountain until I reach a turnoff, where there’s a parking lot for a nature hike. I’ve put on my best walking shoes and a worn tank top so I don’t fry alive, even though generally I hate putting my shoulders on display.

It’s absolutely beautiful up here, I have to admit, and I lose myself in the fresh, bright scent of the trees and vegetation. Huge boulders jut out of the ground, guiding the path up the mountainside. There’s some elevation, which means by the time I reach the first twist in the trail, I’m out of breath.

Wow. It’s really been too long since I got some decent exercise.

Instead of chickening out, I take it as a challenge: get fit enough that this won’t wind me. I’ve never made time for myself or my body with working on Swords of Malroth as much as I do, but maybe now is the time to rectify that.

I work my way up the mountain until I reach the top of the very short peak. There are far higher summits nearby, but I’m gratified to gaze down at the tops of the trees and the small, cozy town spread out below me. Even the water glitters like emeralds.

Then I spot something that wasn’t on the map. Off to the south, on the other side of the cove, there’s a rather large mansion on expansive wooded grounds. I can’t make out the details from this far away, and most of the house is hidden by the trees, but it stirs my curiosity. I wonder who lives there.

At the top of the mountain, I pull out my new book and start reading. It’s a typical fantasy, and I lose myself in it for an hour or so before I realize I’d better get going back before the sun goes down. It’s an even longer hike down, which doesn’t make sense from a physics perspective, but it sure feels like it to my worn-out body. I make it to town just in time for the quaint streetlights along Main Street to turn on, casting an orange glow on the wide sidewalks. Only one or two cars putter down the road, but otherwise the street is quiet.

The bookstore, though, appears to be open. I’ve bothered Barnaby enough for today, so I should really go back to my apartment and get started making dinner. Still, I pause outside and watch through the window as he rearranges the books on a shelf near the counter, then stands up straight and adjusts his vest again .

When he bends over, I lean closer. Holy fuck, that man has an ass on him. It’s tight and muscular, and his gray slacks highlight the curves of it beautifully.

I back away from the window, but it’s too late. Barnaby has turned around and caught me staring directly at him. He rolls his eyes, and I’m about to flee when he waves me in.

Wait, what? He wants me to come inside?

Cautiously, I open the door and step through.

“No point standing around gawking,” he says when I come in. My shame at getting caught is surely turning my face pink. “Did you get everything you needed?”

I nod rapidly. “Yes, the kitchen is all stocked up now.”

He nods, but when I look into his eyes, I find his pupils huge and black. Maybe he has a vision problem, and that’s why he keeps the lights low in here.

“You’re out late,” he remarks. “Past sundown in a monster town? Very bold.”

I realize belatedly that I didn’t even consider it. “Should I be afraid?”

To my vast surprise, Barnaby chuckles. I didn’t know he was capable of laughing.

“No, there’s nothing to fear here. But maybe stay inside the town limits after dark. Monsters may not be a problem, but bears and cougars are.”

“Oh. Right.” I didn’t consider that when I was out hiking. Maybe I should take bear spray with me next time.

Then I remember I mowed through half of my book today up on the mountain, and I should probably get another one. I used to love to read as a kid but lost the desire when I started using computers at school. I knew right away that the computer was where my destiny lay, and it became the object of my full attention.

“Do you have the sequel to the one I bought last time?” I ask, moseying over to the fantasy section. Barnaby arches a brow.

“ Ash, Bone and Diamonds ?” He joins me in front of the rack, then points it out. “That one.”

I pick up the book with a similar cover, but blue instead of red. Then I head to the checkout, and he meets me there.

Barnaby seems significantly less surly today, and I wonder if perhaps he woke up on the wrong side of the bed the first time I met him.

“Your store’s open pretty late,” I say, noting that it’s nearly closing time. “Why’s that?”

“People read at night,” is his only answer as he rings me up. I pull out my card again, pay for the book, but stop him as he’s about to bag it up.

“It’s fine. I’m just carrying it up the stairs.” He passes me the book and a receipt. “Thank you.”

“Try the Hadron,” he says as I head for the door. I pause and peer at him over my shoulder. “It might surprise you.”

“I definitely will.”

Then he smiles. And holy shit, is it an incredibly sexy smile. But then I notice his long canines—much, much too long. Supernaturally long, and curved at the tips.

“Whoa.” The word comes out before I can stop it. Maybe he isn’t so human, after all. “Are you... a vampire?”

Barnaby’s eyes widen, and then he covers his mouth, muttering something I can’t hear under his breath. He puts even more space between us, heading behind the counter.

“Yes.” It’s a single, factual word. “Goodnight, Maisie.”

He won’t look at me, and his brows are knit tightly together. I know when I’m being dismissed.

“Goodnight, Barnaby,” I say quietly. Then I head back to my apartment, wishing I hadn’t said anything at all.

Barnaby

Well, there’s one cat out of the bag. Not much I can do about it now.

The way Maisie’s eyes went wide, she must be afraid of me. I think back to the Cautière book, and I’m glad that most mortals don’t know about our true forms. Then she might really have gone running for the hills.

But she smelled so absolutely lovely, fantastically divine. That’s the only reason I smiled at her, and it was a mistake.

I grumble to myself as I close up shop for the night and head home. I don’t need that sort of temptation around, not when I’ve gone this long avoiding it.

That’s why I founded Hallow’s Cove, after all—so I wouldn’t have to face this. Most of the year, the humans stay away from our town. In the winter, they’re all up at the lodge on Twilight Peak, so I don’t have to interact with them much. It’s only in the summer when it becomes a problem, but no one has ever smelled as powerfully delicious as Maisie.

Why did she have to be my tenant?

My whole walk home, I’m thinking about that pulsing vein in her throat, the one letting off that incredible aroma. Simply remembering it and I’m getting hard under my slacks.

Has it really been so long since I drank blood?

I know that I’m a disturbed individual. Living for 230 years will do that to you. I’ve seen many things in my life that would turn most mortals’ stomachs, as horrendous as history has been. Even now, in the thick of rapidly advancing technology, I watch the corruption that still rules over the world, merely changing form over time from one type of dictator to the next. The invention of the cell phone may be the worst of them, taking the place of books in people’s minds, closing them off to all the marvelous lessons that history has to offer.

Now the world’s mistakes will repeat on an even shorter timeline.

Not that I’m absolved of guilt; I’ve made my own errors, committed my own atrocities. I will own those. I cannot pretend the years I spent with the coven didn’t happen, as much as I wish now that they hadn’t.

After my glass of chilled cow’s blood, I settle into my chair beside the fire and pick up my book just as I did last night, and the night before that, and every night since I built this mansion beside a bay that few others had ever seen.

When I’m finished with Cautière’s chapter on werewolves, I make my way once again into the basement where Adeline has prepared my coffin.

I will not see the human woman any more than necessary for the next four weeks. And then she will be gone, a memory in the wind like every other tourist in my town. I can’t risk waking my true form, not after so much time. I don’t know that I have the capacity anymore to control it, and that would be the worst thing that could happen.

Maisie

It is a lovely town, I’ll give Hallow’s Cove that. Main Street has all sorts of attractions, from the adorable little flower shop to the boutique that carries cute, summery dresses and boots. I’m still getting paid while I’m on this forced vacation, so I consider buying something to wear in case I see Barnaby again.

I wish I hadn’t reacted to his fangs the way I did. Surely it seemed like I was afraid of him, when in truth, I was just surprised. It makes sense that he would be a monster, too, in a place like Hallow’s Cove.

I finish my book that night, unable to sleep. I’m not used to running a normal schedule like this, when my body typically doesn’t get tired until two or three in the morning. Eventually I give up and head over to the computer to work on my pet project.

It’s almost three when I realize I should be asleep if I don’t want to waste tomorrow. But it takes me forever to drift off, thinking about Barnaby’s smile, fangs and all.

I’m exhausted the next day, and I pledge to find some way to cure my insomnia and return to a normal schedule. Maybe when the investigation is over and I can go back to work, my boss will appreciate me working nine-to-five like everyone else.

Once again, I go on a hike, finding a different trailhead this time, and work on my new goal of becoming fit. Once again, I run out of breath partway up, but I keep trucking. By the time this vacation is over, I’ll be a machine.

I carefully avoid the bookstore when I get back to the apartment, and this time, I order a burger from the diner for takeout. It’s when my hands are all covered in grease that I realize I didn’t think to buy napkins or paper towels.

There’s a drawer in the wide base of the table, so I open it delicately with my pinkie and see if perhaps a stray dining napkin has found its way there. Sure enough, I discover some embroidered blue napkins, and hastily wipe off my greasy fingers.

Hmm. If there are still napkins in this table from when it was used who knows how many years ago, I wonder what else might be stashed away ?

The bottom drawers of the dresser, which I didn’t end up needing, contain what appear to be ancient bed sheets. There’s a very old copy of a Dickens book in the nightstand, and in the desk drawer are some pens and yellowed sheafs of paper. I wonder how old this desk is.

Curious, I flip them over and find lettering on the other side.

Dearest Barnaby,

Has it really been two years since we were at the Foster gathering together? Time has slowed to a crawl since then as I wonder about your fate. Perhaps you eloped after I saw you leaving with that woman, or worse, perhaps you have died and this is a pointless endeavor. I would very much like to know which it is. If it is the former, I will celebrate for you, and if it is the latter, I want the opportunity to mourn you properly.

I have sent this letter to our mutual friend in the hope that he will pass it along to you. Perhaps you have simply chosen not to speak to me again after some slight I cannot remember. In that case, please allow me to apologize, for I would very much like to see you again.

Your beloved sister,

Beatrice

I read the letter again, knowing I’m doing something I shouldn’t. The moment I found this, I ought to have put it back in the desk and pretended I never saw it. It’s none of my business, and it feels rather personal. Barnaby must have forgotten he left it here .

What very much startles me is the date at the bottom: May 24, 1842.

Oh, wow. This letter is nearly two hundred years old. I drop it onto the desk immediately, running to wash my hands with soap and water. I hope I haven’t gotten any grease on a piece of memorabilia like that.

I wonder if Barnaby even knows it’s here. What if he’s been looking for it for decades, and it was inside this desk all along?

It’s late, nearly closing time for the bookstore, but I pick it up and march down the stairs anyway, determined to give it back to him. And perhaps, if I’m lucky, find out about this sister of his.

Did she ever find him again?