Page 71 of Vampires and Violas

“Why is it called shipping?”

“It’s short for relationship, I think. Or maybe it’s because you’ll loyally go down with your ship? I’m not really sure.”

He glances over. “My girlfriend is a little weird.”

My stomach clenches, and it takes me several seconds to catch my breath. “I’m not your girlfriend.”

“Yes, I know. You told Sophia.”

“I didn’t like the way she cornered you. I understand what she was getting at, but it was manipulative.”

“You know what worries me?”

“What?” I ask softly.

“I thought about what she said—what I’d do if you were dying.” He looks over, briefly meeting my eyes in the dark car.

I draw in a shaky breath, waiting.

He pulls his eyes back to the road. “NIHA is my life, but I’m afraid I’d break the law for you.” He laughs darkly. “No, I know I would.”

“Noah…”

“If I were Reid…I would have probably made the same choice. And I don’t know what that says about me.”

I clasp my hands in my lap. “It probably says you should find a nice final-stage vampire to date, so you’re never confronted with that decision.”

He shakes his head. “It’s too late for that.”

I swallow. “It is?”

“I don’t want some random vampire woman.” Noah looks back. “I want you.”

Be still, my poor pre-vampiric heart.

“You’ll lose your job if you change me,” I say.

“Only if they find out.”

“All old vampires would be able to tell. You’re a new vamp, born long after Nicolau made his law. Any vampire you create would be an illegal one.”

Noah opens his mouth to argue. And then he closes it, realizing I’m right.

If I ever want to be a final-stage vampire—and I’m not saying I do—we’d have to be smart about it. Like the house that hired Sophia, I’d have to find someone from a different line to take care of that final bite.

I blink, realizing where my thoughts have wandered. I don’t want to be a vampire. I don’t want to take a billion medications and adopt a carnivore diet.

And even if I did—and I’m not saying I do—I shouldn’t leap into it too quickly. Becoming a full-blown creature of the night is a big step and not one to be taken lightly.

Everyone knows you can’t just become a vampire for some guy. (Okay, not everyone knows that, but if the general population knew about vampires, I’m sure it would be a common phrase.)

We arrive back at my house at nearly two in the morning. And though my body is tired, my mind is churning with thoughts I shouldn’t be thinking.

Noah pauses at the bottom of the porch steps, waiting for me. Several of my night-blooming vines perfume the air, and the landscape lights set a pretty scene.

“I’m sorry today didn’t go as planned,” Noah says. “So much for Day One, huh?”

I set my hand on his arm, running my palm over his sleeve’s soft leather. “I’m just glad you didn’t get shot tonight. I thought I might have to buy you another jacket.”

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