“Well, isn’t this a morose sight?” I heard Christian say.
Startled, I looked up to my left and saw him standing over my grave, which was next to my mother’s. I’d been so lost in my thoughts that I’d somehow tuned out the sound of his footsteps in the snow.
He did a little jig in a circle. “Got any goose bumps? I always wondered if that worked.”
I heaved a sigh. “How did you know I was here?”
“You drove me.”
I regarded him for a moment, noticing his messy hair and long-sleeved black shirt with the buttons undone at the top. “What are you talking about?”
He sat on my tombstone. “I was lying on top of the Jeep before you came in. Sometimes a Vampire needs a little privacy.”
“In the garage?”
“It’s quiet like the dead in there. You’re hardly one to judge a man’s hiding place.”
I stood up and wiped my hands. “So you rode all the way here on top of the car?”
He shrugged nonchalantly. “Always enjoyed a little wind in my hair.” Christian looked between the two graves and patted mine. “Your da forked over good money for these.”
“It doesn’t take much to impress you, does it?”
He looked long and hard at my grave. “A headstone does offer a peculiar sense of belonging. Perhaps you should say your farewells. You’ve been here for over an hour.”
I glanced down at my mother’s headstone and then squatted in front of it. My fingertips traced the letters that spelled out Bonnie. The worst part about leaving was always remembering how she died. That kind of knowledge changes a person forever.
My lip quivered, and tears spilled down my cheeks. I collected my emotions and pressed a kiss to the cold stone. “I love you, Mama,” I whispered.
As I hugged my mother’s headstone, I felt Christian’s hands on my shoulders. When I finally stood up, I turned around and didn’t look back, each step easier than the last.
“I never understood why they put fences around cemeteries,” Christian remarked, his breath clouding the air in front of his face. “Don’t you think it’s more likely that people want out… not in?”
“The spikes on top of the wrought iron fence are a nice touch. I almost impaled myself jumping over it.”
“’Twould be a shame if I had to put you in the ground for real.”
“As long as you put fake roses on my grave.”
He clasped his hands behind his back. “Fake? I’d plant a real one covered in thorns, just as prickly as your tongue.”
“If you had to care for a living thing, it would die from neglect.”
“I’d water it myself, right after a pint of ale.”
We laughed as we followed my trail toward the back where I’d snuck in. Visiting hours were over, because apparently the dead needed a break from the living. When we neared the mausoleums, I decided to get a better view of the grounds. One of them had a flat roof, so I climbed the statue next to it and pulled myself up. Once there, I kicked the snow away while Christian climbed up behind me.
“Would you look at that,” he said. “All those fecking bodies. It just goes on forever.”
With the sun at my back, I took a seat, my legs dangling over the edge. Seeing it from this angle gave me a new perspective. It suddenly occurred to me that death wasn’t a personal thing but a practical one.
Everyone dies… eventually. That’s the one thing we all have in common.
Christian kicked more snow away until half the roof was cleared. Instead of sitting next to me, he perched on the corner like a gargoyle overlooking his domain. “I never had a grave of my own. Even if someone had pretended to bury me, there would probably be a shopping strip over my coffin by now.”
“It makes you wonder if we’ll run out of land.”
“Perhaps they should put the dead on display like the clothes at the dry cleaners. You just push a button, and the body of your loved one comes out on a hook.”
“There you go again. Saying all the right things to make me feel better.”
He cocked his head to the side when a white rabbit scurried over our tracks toward the grave.
My hands squeezed the stone ledge, and I looked up at him. “Can I ask you a question?”
“I don’t see what’s ever stopped you before.”
“This necklace isn’t a fake stone, is it?”
He scraped his teeth against his bottom lip and then stood up.
“Did you steal it?”
“I don’t know what you’re prattling on about,” he said, moving out of sight.
I scooted back and stood up to face him. “No more bullshit. Why did you give me a Burmese ruby necklace? And not just any ruby, but one worth a lot of money? Tell me the truth, or I’m giving it back.”
Christian caught sight of me pulling it out from beneath my shirt. “Don’t give it back,” he quickly said.
“Someone could steal it.”
He chuckled softly. “The chain is infused with magic. Let them try.”
I blinked in surprise, his words tangling in my head.
Christian approached me and lifted the jewel between his fingers. “No one’s going to steal your heart. They create stones in labs now, and most dolts can’t tell the difference between dime-store jewels and the real thing. I’ve had it for a long time. Seemed a shame for it to spend eternity in a box. I’m sure they would agree,” he said, jerking his head toward the graveyard.
“So then why not give it to Gem? She loves stones. Why me?”
A cryptic look flickered in his expression, and he gazed at me so intently that I found myself drawn to him. Christian had captivating eyes—like two obsidian stones encased in porcelain. Without warning, he cradled my neck and kissed me, his tongue delving deep and flooding my senses. It was the only warmth my body felt, and I surrendered myself completely. Christian’s kiss was like a passionate tide rocking and swelling against my shore, but it was the undercurrent of emotion that threatened to pull me under.
Christian softened the kiss and spoke against my lips. “That’s why.”
He tasted decadent, and I didn’t mind his scruffy beard or even the fact that there was a lingering flavor of mint on his breath. I melted beneath his touch, my heart quickening.
Christian drew back, his gaze so reverent that it gave me butterflies. “I’d walk through fire for you.”
I struggled for words. “You have.”
“And I’d do it again.”
“Why would you give me something so valuable?”
His thumb swept across my cheek. “It’s romantic, is it not?”
“But you’re not a romantic.”
“Aye. But maybe a heart made of fire is the best I can do.”
He pulled me tight against him and kissed me hard, deep, so our tongues married and thoughts disintegrated. I touched his chest but didn’t push him away. Energy flowed to my fingertips, and what would have knocked a grown man off his feet had no effect on this Vampire. Christian took his time savoring me, and my knees weakened at how tender he was. The kiss didn’t just end—it burned out slowly like dying embers.
“When did all this begin?” I asked in disbelief.
“The night we met, when you put a blade to my groin. That’s when I knew you were the one.”
“Don’t be funny. I’m serious.”
He swept a lock of hair away from my eyes. “There’s no one moment I can give you. Sometimes when we’re at the table, I tune everything out and listen to the sound of your heart beating inside your chest. I can’t help myself. You’re an addiction I’ve never known before.”
“I’m also a crossbreed.”
“I’ve come to terms with that. Have you? Because I think it’s time you realize how remarkable your Vampire nature is. The part of you that you’re afraid of is the part that draws me nearer to you.”
My breath caught. “Why are you saying all this? Getting a compliment out of you is like pulling teeth.”
Instant regret flashed in his eyes.
“Wait a minute. I know what’s going on here. You’re going to scrub my memory, aren’t you?” I pushed him away, putting distance between us. “You can’t just write all over me like a chalkboard and erase whatever you say. I don’t want you in my head.”
“You can’t remember any of this, Raven.”
“You gave me your word you’d never fuck with my head again. This isn’t like the last time; I’m not going to walk away from my job because of this attraction between us.”
“It’s already changed things, but I had to get it off my chest. I can make this conversation disappear so it won’t vex you. Do you really think we can work together after this?”
I shrugged. “I can.”
He wiped his hand down his mouth. “I don’t know what the feck I’m doing. I get all soft when I see a woman weeping over her mother’s grave.”
“Don’t pretend like you said any of this because you felt sorry for me.” I looked right at him, but he avoided eye contact. “I thought we were going to be honest with each other?”
“If you remember this conversation, you’ll regret it.”
We both stood still as the wind blew. Christian was guarded with his emotions, and not being able to scrub my memory of his admission must have been a painful blow to his ego. But if this Vampire was willing to admit he felt something for me, then maybe he needed more than my silence or reproach. “If you’re afraid that your feelings are just a one-way street, they’re not.”