“But you love her.”
“Which is exactly why I won’t turn her.”
“Maybe you’re the right idiot.” Stanhill scowled. “She could come through the turning right as rain.”
Hugh scowled right back. “And it could kill her. Would you take that chance with Corette’s life?”
Stanhill’s expression softened. “I…I don’t know.”
“Exactly.”
Stanhill sighed. “But you love her. Don’t you want to spend the rest of your life with her?”
“I do. But I will not have her death on my hands.”
“So you’re going to break both your hearts on the chance that something might go wrong. Trade an eternity of happiness for an eternity of sorrow. Over a chance.”
“She’ll get over me.”
“Will she? Or will she go to her grave wondering what might have happened?”
“Enough, Stanhill.”
He snorted softly. “And you. You’ll have centuries to think about her. At least her suffering will end with her death. You don’t have that option. Unless you slip out of that amulet and into the sunshine.”
Hugh punched him.
Stanhill staggered back, arms out to keep his balance. “Bloody hell, what was that for?”
“For not shutting the hell up when I said enough. I know what I’m doing.”
Stanhill rubbed his jaw, eyes blazing with indignation. “No, you don’t. Or you wouldn’t be doing it.”
“You’d have me do what then? Marry her? Turn her? What if she dies? What then?”
“It might not happen that way.”
“But if it does?” Hugh stared at him, feeling the pain of that possibility like a dagger to the heart. “Do you know what losing her that way would do to me? I can’t be responsible for that. It would…it will kill me.”
Stanhill’s stern expression remained. “Either way, you lose her. And either way, you’re responsible. Is this the end of you then? Will you wait until she’s gone before you meet the dawn, or do you plan to head out tomorrow at sunrise and get it over with?”
Hugh went very still. He hadn’t thought about it in those terms. He sank into a nearby chair. “I’m damned if I do, damned if I don’t.”
“It’s better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all is a cliché for a reason. It’s true. You’re a bleedin’ vampire. Top of the food chain. And yet you’re ruled by fear.”
Hugh knew he was right. He said nothing.
Stanhill worked his jaw back and forth. “Think long and hard before you make a decision you will regret for the rest of your very long life.”
“All I can do is think.”
The rook left, shutting the door firmly behind him.
Hugh stared at the bag in his lap as he slowly went numb from the impending loss. His bones felt as heavy as lead, his muscles watery, his brain mush. The only thing good in his life was sitting downstairs, feeling like she’d done something very wrong and not knowing why.
Maybe he deserved to be alone. Certainly Delaney deserved someone better than him. Someone who couldn’t hurt her. Someone who could return her love with his whole heart, unshackled by the fear that his love would end in her demise.
Starting tomorrow, he’d begin the process of widening the gap between them. Eventually, Delaney would leave him and truly be safe.
His hand went to the amulet, his fingertips tracing the ancient carving on the stone. Whatever decisions he made after she was gone would be his and his alone to deal with.
Morning for Delaney came around eleven a.m. She slipped out of bed, pulled the curtains back and stared into the garden. Blue sky, lots of sun, all in all, a gorgeous day for the parade.
And an apology.
She walked out into the hall and, based on the quietness of the house, decided Hugh was still asleep. That would give her time to get ready and figure out what she was going to say. She went back into her room and shut the door.
Captain had jumped onto the window sill and was basking in a warm ray of sun. She scratched him on the head. “You probably want a little outside time, huh?”
He leaned into her hand and purred. If only Hugh was that easy. She laughed. Actually, that would be boring.
After a shower, hair and makeup, she dressed in one of the tops she’d bought at the secondhand store, a pair of cuffed boyfriend jeans and some cute flats. Little gold hoops, the moonstone ring that had been her mom’s and she was done. Well, except for a fresh bandage on her cut hand.
This time when she walked into the hall, faint kitchen sounds greeted her. Stanhill was making breakfast.
Hugh rarely slept longer than it took to brew the first pot of coffee.