Page 51 of An Acquired Taste

“That was Catullus 5 in the original Latin.”

I smile, eyes drifting shut. “The ode to Lesbia,” I say. “I like that one.”

Where is it I know that poem from? I’m too tired to remember. Too comfortable resting against Sebastian’s side. As I doze off, I feel cold lips press against my temple.

Yet when I wake up in my bed at the estate alone, I am not even surprised.

* * *

“Lord Sebastian wanted me to tell you that he’ll be away again for a few days,” Ellen tells me over breakfast. “So there’s no need to give blood.”

I purse my lips, spreading whipped butter on a flaky scone. Of course he is. He always retreats after getting close to me. And ofcourseit’s Ellen delivering this news instead of him. I didn’t even get a note this time.

This man is infuriating. I’m finally beginning to understand him better, but that doesn’t make it any easier to deal with. Especially not when he leaves me alone with my thoughts again.

Even though it went well, what happened at the ball has me more confused than ever. This time I’m not going to sit around and wait for Sebastian to return. I need some distance to get my head on straight. And I need some outside advice before I make any important decisions.

I’m tired of doing this alone. But in a stroke of good luck, my sister is meant to move into her new apartment this weekend, so I have a good excuse to go help her get things set up. I’ll force myself to finally tell her everything while I’m there… and set up the guest bedroom. My contract is almost over, after all.

“I think I’m going to leave as well,” I say, as lightly as I can manage. “Could you arrange transportation for me to LA?”

Ellen gives me a wide-eyed look, and I falter.

“Surely I’m allowed to, yes?” I ask, suddenly uncertain. I thought maybe I could pull off a casual trip without making it a big deal. “I want to see my sister, is all. She’s moving away from our hometown for the first time.”

“Oh, I, yes. Of course. I’ll arrange it, don’t worry. I thought…” She takes a deep breath and wipes at her eyes; I’m shocked to see tears gathering there. “Oh, dear, I’m sorry. I thought you might mean that you were leaving permanently. And I thought, Lord Sebastian— all of us—” She pauses while I grapple with a surge of guilt. “Well, I’ve grown quite fond of you.”

“Aw, Ellen.” I plaster on a smile and extend a hand, which she grips and squeezes. “You’ve been such a kindness through all of this. And I—” I want to tell her I’m not leaving, but I’m not sure if it’s a lie yet. “It’s just a long overdue visit with my sister,” I say, which is not quite the truth but not a bald-faced lie either. No matter what happens, I plan to come back and say my goodbyes before officially giving my resignation. I’m not that much of a coward.

I keep telling myself that once Ellen leaves, and I pack my bag with guilt gnawing at my stomach.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Istep out of the airport and wrinkle my nose at the blast of heat and smog. Ahh, Los Angeles. I can’t say I missed it much.

When I text Maisy to suggest brunch, I get a bunch of question marks in return.It’s seven p.m.,she says, and I get a jolt as I remember not everybody is on vampire time.

You know what I meant, I type back, biting the inside of my cheek.

Just come over, you absolute weirdo,she says.You haven’t even seen the apartment yet!

I was hoping to have this conversation in public, in case she decides she hates me and never wants to see me again, but I can’t explain that, so I agree. I wave off her offer to pick me up, insisting I’ll take a cab and there’s no need for her to brave the horrors of LAX. I need all the time I can get to prepare for this conversation.

As much as I’d prefer not to soil my reunion with my sister, I know it’s time to fess up. I’m not sure I can stand being there and lying to her face in person, and I know the longer the lies go on, the harder it will get to tell the truth. Better to pull off the band-aid now. Especially because I could use her advice.

My guts are doing nervous somersaults the whole ride to the apartment. I try to force myself to take in my surroundings rather than dwell in my thoughts, but the concrete and graffitiof LA is only more depressing after my months away at the gorgeous, green estate. At least the apartment complex I chose for Maisy is nice. Safe. A gated community with manicured lawns and all. It’s nothing compared to Sebastian’s home, of course—oh, God, stop thinking about it—but still, for LA? It’s great.

And when the door opens and I see my little sister, I break into a grin. She squeals and throws her arms around my neck, nearly bowling me over.

“Oh my God, Amelia, I’ve missed you so much!”

I hug her back just as tightly. “You, too.” I haven’t seen her since Thanksgiving two years ago, which was such a disaster that I finally decided to cut off my parents for good. Maisy looks familiar and so different at the same time. So absurdly grown up. “Your hair!” I exclaim, pulling back to see it better. The last time I saw her, she had her long, natural brown waves; now it’s cut and dyed into a chic blond bob.

“You like?”

“I love it.” I beam, tugging at a strand. “You look ready for college, though I can hardly believe it.”

“You look different too.” She looks up at me, studying my face.

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