The next morning was pretty much a twin to the previous one, so I won’t bore you with details of how I take my morning coffee.

I don’t mind having a routine. I actually like routine and knowing what’s going to happen in my day. Not that I don’t enjoy surprises every now and then, but what can I say, I am a strong believer in schedules and appointment books.

Or at least I was until monotony became a synonym for my daily life.

I’d finished the book at bedtime, so after my breakfast, which was devoid of any more revelations from Stephen, I returned to the library.

The office door was closed, and I didn’t hesitate before pushing it open. I’m not sure why it didn’t occur to me that Morgan might be in there. Maybe because I’d waited for his return for so long the previous evening. I froze on the threshold when I realized that he was seated at his desk, holding the phone to his ear with one hand and typing on the computer keyboard with the other. His eyes flicked up toward me, but he continued speaking in a language I didn’t know. It sounded like Japanese, maybe. Hadn’t he said he was doing business with Japan?

I didn’t freeze because I was surprised to see him there, however. I froze because of his face: because of the three, claw-like red slashes that ran from the corner of his left eye to his chin.

Who had done that to him?

Who would dare do that to a vampire?

There was only one answer I could think of: another vampire.

Suddenly, I didn’t know whether to tiptoe to the library or just leave. While I hesitated, he finished his call and set the phone down on his desk.

“Did you want something?” he asked, now typing with both hands.

“No, I was just…”

When he looked up, I showed him the book I held and gestured toward the library.

“Oh. Yes, of course. Go ahead.”

I was dying to ask who had hurt him, but would he answer if I did? I started forward, but stopped when he said, “By the way, I got this back for you.”

He pulled a phone and charger from a drawer. No, not just a phone, I realized as I took it. My phone. The one I had told him was at my desk in Miss Delilah’s office building. I didn’t ask how he’d retrieved it. I didn’t really care if he’d been let in or if he’d sneaked in. But the thought of him in that office reminded me of something I’d meant to do for a while.

“Thanks,” I said. “Now I can finally…”

He watched me with a curious expression as I typed a two-word message and pressed send. Rather than answering his unvoiced question about what I meant, I showed him the screen.

The message, sent to Miss Delilah, said simply ‘I quit.’ Morgan chuckled softly.

“Have you been meaning to do that for a while?”

“Pretty much since my first day here,” I confirmed.

I turned off the phone and pocketed it. I didn’t need to wait for a reply from Miss Delilah. I didn’t care what she thought about me quitting.

“So what will you do when you get out of here?” Morgan asked, sitting back in his chair and watching me with a small tilt of his head that was not, emphasis on the not, adorable.

Or at least, not much.

“You mean if I ever get out of here,” I said.

He shook his head. “No. Not if. When.”

The strength and conviction in his words was nice. I wished I could have been as certain as he was. Because, all right, I wasn’t in such a hurry to leave anymore, but I did want to see the outside of the mansion again someday.

“I don’t know,” I said with a little shrug. “The first thing I’ll do is take a nice long walk in the park. But after that… Maybe I’ll go visit my parents. Or even move back there. I don’t really know. How does one go back to a normal life after learning vampires are real?”

He leaned back in his chair, and I became very aware of the chair facing him, just a couple of feet from me. I took one step toward it, and when Morgan didn’t react, another step. I sat down right on the edge; I didn’t want to get too comfortable.

“I can’t help you there,” Morgan said. “When I found out, my life took a turn far from normal. I’m not even sure I know what normal means anymore.”

I had a hard time believing that. When my parents had been there, he’d played the role to perfection. Still, I’d promised myself I wouldn’t argue with him, so I let that drop and asked instead, “Did you want it? Did you want to be a vampire?”

I remembered every word Irene had said to me two days ago—and I remembered in particular how she’d hinted that she might make me a vampire. I couldn’t help but wonder if turning someone who didn’t want to be a vampire was really something she’d do. Morgan, however—I’m sure it won’t come as much as a surprise to you—did not actually answer.

“I’m not sure anyone can truly want it,” he said, his voice and his eyes suddenly darker. “Because no one could understand what it’s like before they are a vampire, and by then the choice is made and there is no coming back.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

My protest didn’t bother him one bit. Of course not.

“I know.”

With a roll of my eyes, I got back to my feet. I didn’t know why I kept deluding myself about being able to reach him when he constantly slammed doors in my face.

“You say I don’t know you, but how could I when you just evade every attempt I make to learn more about you?”

He had the gall to sigh, like I was the one being difficult.

“Angelina. Why would you need to know me? You just said when you get out of here you’ll leave town.”

“Well, I could have let myself be convinced to stay,” I snapped at him.

He shook his head.

“Don’t say that. You’ve just been here too long. You’re accepting it because denial only weakens your spirit, and you’re not the kind of woman who lets anything or anyone weaken her, are you?”

Annoyance surged through me so fast that it took me a couple of seconds to realize why I was annoyed. It wasn’t what he’d said; the last part had some truth to it, even if it was all more of the same ‘you don’t see clearly enough to know what you feel’ thinking he kept throwing at me. No, what annoyed me was the way he said it, like he knew all that for a fact—like he knew me, inside and out.

“I’m not allowed to think I know you,” I said, bristling, “but you think you know everything about me, is that it?”

He didn’t even have the grace to look abashed.

“I’ve known a lot of people. I like to think I understand what makes them tick.”

I couldn’t suppress a snort.

“You like to think that, but you know, that’s not really true. If it was, you wouldn’t need to take the easier path when you find a bump in the road.”

Cheap shot on my part. So much for having decided I’d play nice. I guess I still wasn’t over his deception.

His wince when I said the word ‘easier’ was even better than what I’d hoped for.

“I thought you said we’d stop talking about that,” he muttered.

With a look of affected surprise, I pressed a hand to my heart.

“Did I? Oh, I’m so sorry. I lied. Sue me.”

And with that, I gave him my hardest smile and marched into the library. It was nice, for once, to have the last word, but I didn’t delude myself into thinking I’d gained any ground. I hadn’t convinced him of anything, let alone the truth of my feelings. He was much too stubborn to give in so easily. But I wasn’t giving up. Spending a few minutes choosing a book then lying down on the Victorian sofa wasn’t me giving up: it was a way to prepare for the next battle.

It turned out much differently from what I expected.

 

*