Page 64 of An Acquired Taste

The grave. The flowers. The suspicions I voiced on my blog, the accusation my sister threw at him…

And the admission he made. He said he killed her.

I hesitate. “I know it was a long time ago…” I say, torn. I know I’m not entitled to all of his secrets, but if there’s any hope for us continuing this, I do think I need to know.

He shakes his head and gently squeezes my hands. “I would like to tell you,” he says. “I would like you to understand.”

I nod, any further words dying in my throat. Truth be told, I’m afraid that hearing what he has to say will break my heart. But neither of us can hide from the truth.

“As you’ve likely guessed, Etta was my former valentine,” he says. “It has been almost seventy-five years since I became her patron.” He pauses, but I wait in silence, knowing he’s only trying to organize his thoughts. “She was my first valentine. I had always sworn I would never take one on. Companionship does not come easily to me. But her blood was… singularly appealing.” He glances sideways at me, and I look away, my face heating when I realize what he’s hinting at. Her blood waslike mine.

That makes me think of what Alexander said to me about me tasting “just like her.” And his words about Etta.

“My tastes are… particular, and unusual. I had never found blood that sated me like hers. I could not resist it, and so I took her on as my valentine, even though I knew…” Sebastian grimaces, shakes his head. “I knew the danger of growing close to a mortal. The terrible price of loving one. Yet still I fell, helplessly, foolishly. I could not help myself. She tore down the walls I had constructed around myself like they were no more than paper mâché. She stuck in my heart like a thorn.” He smiles, and it has a bitter tinge. “And then she… asked me to change her. To make her a vampire so that we could be together forever.”

I blink, so startled that for a moment I forget my own emotional ties to this story, my horrible jealous heart pounding in my chest. I remember the clause in our contract that made it crystal clear I didn’t intend to ask him the same thing. “And what did you say?”

“I said no.” His voice has never been so quiet before. “I had made myself a promise, long ago, that I would never create more of my kind. I feared she had not thought through the cost ofit. That she didn’t understand she was giving up every sunrise, every taste of food untainted by blood. That she would have to watch her family and loved ones grow old and die while she stayed the same. But she… She thought…” His words die off, and I can see him struggling for words. Shame creeps into his normally unreadable expression, and I realize what he’s finding it difficult to voice.

“She thought you said no because you only wanted her blood,” I say.

“So she left,” he says. “She went to other vampires, seeking someone who would grant the request I denied. But it is… a difficult process, and it is not so simple to find someone willing to turn a mortal, particularly one who is new to them. I tried to reach out to her, to make amends, but she avoided me. And as she grew more desperate for what she sought, she turned to more dangerous avenues.” He goes quiet, and I hold my breath, half afraid to hear what comes next. “When I heard from her again, years later, she asked to come see me. Of course I agreed. And when she arrived, I soon realized that she was very unwell. She was addicted to vampire blood, and it was killing her.”

My stomach lurches. “Alexander,” I whisper.

Sebastian nods, agony in his eyes. “Etta knew that she did not have much time, and she was afraid. She asked me again to turn her, and this time I said yes.”

The quiet stretches out. I think of that gravestone, the sadness in his voice when he speaks of her, and already know how this ends. The process of turning a vampire is shrouded in secrecy, a mystery held tightly by the vampire courts, but there are many rumors about the difficulty and potential dangers of the process. I know that not even a strong, youthful candidate will always survive the transformation, let alone a woman who was already dying. Still, I wait for Sebastian to finish telling his tragic tale.

“Of course she did not survive it,” he says. “It was foolish of me to try. Even if I had succeeded, I had not asked for proper permission from my court, and it would have been a legal nightmare. But as it was…” He shakes his head. “She didn’t have a chance. I buried her on the grounds and swore that I would never let myself feel such a thing again. Both for her memory and for my sake.”

I shut my eyes, processing that. The truth hurts, as I expected it to, as something finally slots into place for me. The puzzle piece I’ve been missing that gives the reason for Sebastian’s volatile behavior. I am here because I remind him ofher. My blood is enough to conjure the ghost of his love for this long-dead valentine, andthatmust be the reason for these moments of physical affection, where it almost seems like he sees me as more than a blood donor. And that, too, must be the reason he always flees shortly afterward—when he comes back down to earth and realizes that I am not her, and never will be.

I am just a replacement for his former love. Once, I would’ve accepted that. But now… now I think I deserve better. Leaving him after all that we’ve been through will break my heart, but sometimes it’s necessary to break something before it can be rebuilt.

I force a smile that I’m sure comes across as small and sad, and reach over to squeeze his arm. I want him to know that it’s alright, that I understand, and I don’t hold it against him. As much as it hurts, I’m glad that he is being honest with me, and I’m sure it wasn’t easy to share. I don’t think Sebastian is a bad person, or that he meant to use me. We have an agreement, after all; I am the one who started to think we could have something more than our contracted relationship. “Thank you for telling me that,” I say. “And for saving me from Alexander, and for being so kind.”

Sebastian searches my face, a small furrow in his brow.

“Of course,” he says. “And I…” His throat bobs. “I understand this is strange timing,” he says. “But… in my initial plan for this night… I had also planned on asking you for a dance.”

The request is so unexpected, especially in the context of everything that’s happened tonight, it stops me for a moment.A dance. “You hate dancing,” I say.

“I do.” I would think the request was a joke if I didn’t know him better, but of course he is all solemnity. “But I have never tried it with you.”

It almost feels like he’s trying to woo me with that line. My heart is a tangled mess of emotions.

But if this is our last night together, I won’t refuse him. Perhaps it will grant closure to both of us. So I take his hand and let him pull me toward the party. I pause only to take his coat off my shoulders and offer it to him, to cover his torn and bloodstained shirt.

Then his cold, slender fingers twine with mine, and he leads me indoors and to the dance floor.

As if on cue, the formerly lively music takes a turn for the slow and almost sorrowful. Sebastian gently pulls me close and places a hand on my hip, ever the gentleman. His other hand still grips mine, holding it aloft as he pulls me into the steps. I drop my eyes to his shoes, worried about stepping on them.

A waltz. It’s been a while, but my body still remembers the steps that Benjamin taught me during our training long ago. It is easier than ever with Sebastian leading me; he is stiff but perfect in form, and my body is all too eager to follow his. I know every move he is going to make just before he makes it.

In this, at least, we are suited to one another. The realization hurts, but I push it deep down, take a deep breath, and look up at his face. His eyes are already on mine; he has been studying me since the beginning, I realize, and there is a look in his dark eyes I’ve never seen before.

“I wasn’t sure if you’d be here tonight,” I say.

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