Page 7 of After Darkness Falls

She really wanted to know what he meant by that. The need went beyond mere curiosity. Something inside her felt like pushing a little further, and maybe even getting a rise out of him.

Which was insane. And potentially suicidal.

She didn’t know much about him yet, but she was pretty certain that those who got a rise out of Levi De Villier ended up exsanguinated and dumped in a narrow grave.

But he’d done nothing to hurt her. If she wasn’t mistaken, he actually seemed to be doing his best to avoid frightening her, too. Charles moved a little too fast—she couldn’t always catch all of his movements; one moment he was grabbing a pen, and the next he’d written five words. Her eyes couldn’t follow the transition.

Levi’s limbs were purposefully slow; too fluid and graceful perhaps, but she was fairly certain he did that for her benefit.

So, she pushed.

“Tell me. What happens if you don’t get blood?”

His eyes narrowed and zeroed in on hers. They were bright blue now. The warm amber-brown was completely gone.

“Discussing blood with a vampire isn’t wise, Chloe.”

She shrugged.

“Nor is traveling with one. Yet here we are. You said so yourself, if you wanted to hurt me, you would have done it.”

Chloe couldn’t tell whether he was amused or exasperated. Both, perhaps.

"Nevertheless, I’ll not answer that. You'll study the gory details if you take Paranormal Introduction."

Chloe blinked, her desire to bug him evaporating as she asked, "Can I? Paranormal Introduction was listed in the program the school sent me, but it's an undergrad course that doesn't have much to do with my master’s."

"I have no role in the school administration,” he replied. “I just own the land. But unless I’m much mistaken, you may study any course taught at the Institute. As long as you don't piss off the teacher."

His language entertained her greatly: a mixture of modern vernacular, with outdated phrases and the occasional slang. His accent was also noteworthy, not quite British, definitely sexy and distinguished.

She had so many questions.

"Sir, we're close to your destination," the conductor said in a low tone.

Levi sighed. "Would you mind asking the chef to send our dessert through, Louis?" He removed a clip of bills from the inner pocket of his coat and handed the man two fifties.

As the conductor rushed to give Levi’s order, Chloe said, "Don't get me wrong—as a waitress, I'm one to appreciate a good tipper, but a hundred pounds to rush the desserts? That’s, like, a hundred and fifty bucks."

"You haven't had their macaroons," he stated, making her laugh.

The hottie had a sweet tooth.

Who would have guessed?

A pang of sadness hit her. Their destination. They were going to reach the Institute and then part ways. She doubted she’d see him again, not like this. The owner of the land on which the school was built probably didn’t hang out with postgrad students. Chloe tried to cheer herself up. She’d meet other people. She just doubted they’d be half as fascinating as Levi De Villier.

Twenty minutes later, after devouring all of her plate and some of his, Chloe understood the generous tip. She was just wiping her mouth, and wondering if she could order seconds, when the train came to a halt.

Looking out the window, she saw more of the delightful countryside in the darkening light. Low hills to her right and woods on her left, for miles and miles.In the distance, a body of water seemed to have caught fire as the sun set overhead.

"Passengers are advised to remain on the train. This is not a scheduled stop. We will be on our way shortly."

That made sense. Chloe found herself wishing they were stopping for a while. The view was quite magnificent.

"That's us. Do you have your things?"

She blinked. "Here?"

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