Page 55 of How to Dump a Vampire

The last glittering embers of the fireworks display fade into wisps of smoke overhead. All around us, enchanted faces turn earthward once more as the spell breaks. Sounds of laughter and lively chatter fill the chilled night air as crowds begin drifting toward the castle gates.

Anthony catches Audrey’s eye with a subtle smile. “Perhaps you might allow me the honor of escorting you back to the castle, my lady?”

Audrey flushes prettily and takes his proffered arm. “I would be delighted, Lord Anthony. After a few drinks perhaps?”

They make their farewells and head off into the dispersing crowd.

Now alone, I rise and offer Thorn my arm. “May I escort you back?”

She hesitates, eyes guarded, but finally, her delicate fingers alight on my sleeve. Even through the layers of my tunic, her touch sends sparks skittering across my skin. I have to restrain the urge to pull her close and breathe in her honeyed scent.

We join the surge of revelers heading back along the winding lane of stalls, now shuttered for the night. Snatches of music and laughter echo around us as families and lovers wander together in the silvery glow of lanterns. The nip in the air reddens Thorn’s cheeks.

As we walk, memories surface unbidden of our quiet days together in her cottage, when I was certain I would leave and then never see her again. Against all odds, here she is by my side once more.

“You know, I never did get the secret behind that brick you called bread,” I tease lightly as we walk, wanting to keep things light. “Surely even your infamous cooking skills could do better?”

Thorn gasps in mock affront and swats my shoulder, but I catch the reluctant quirk of her lips. “If you must know, that loaf was baked before your untimely arrival interrupted my errands.”

“Mmm hmm, likely excuse. I seem to recall you baking a fresh loaf while I was there recuperating. Had the pleasure of watching you punch and knead it within an inch of its life.” I mime aggressively punching dough, eliciting a surprised chuckle from her.

“Well, someone had to take out their frustrations when saddled with an unwanted houseguest,” Thorn retorts with a pointed look.

“Come now. I was the perfect gentleman. Even offered my expertise on achieving the perfect airy crumb.”

Thorn snorts. “Oh, yes, I remember your constant hovering and critiques while I baked. Tell me, do they teach bread chemistry as part of prince schooling?”

“I’ll have you know the crown prince receives the most well-rounded education,” I reply in mock superiority. “How to manage the cooks is near the top of that list. At least until we have a bride.”

Thorn shakes her head, eyes glinting with amusement. “Truly invaluable skills that prepared you so well for being stranded in a blizzard.”

“I survived, didn’t I? Thanks to a certain witch’s anchored bread keeping me nourished.” I pat mystomach for emphasis.

Thorn’s lips quirk. “Happy to be of baked goods service.”

Up ahead, the iron gates of the castle loom.

I slow our steps, wanting to prolong this stolen time together. “Did you enjoy yourself tonight at least?”

Thorn’s expression turns thoughtful. “More than I expected to, truthfully. Being here again after so long… it stirred some surprisingly pleasant memories.”

Her voice holds a reflective note that piques my curiosity. I didn’t realize she had been here before, but I don’t press.

I cover her hand resting on my arm with my own. “I’m glad. You deserve a little magic.”

Thorn’s steps falter briefly before regaining their rhythm. Our bond thrums just beneath the surface, straining to fully reconnect. It’s all I can do not to give in to desire and pull her into my arms right there in the middle of the crowd, but I restrain myself, respecting her boundaries. She needs time, and I can be patient. Or at least try to be.

The thought of bidding Thorn goodnight and watching her disappear behind those imposing woodendoors fills me with quiet dread. This magical evening together feels too precious to let end just yet.

I glance down at her hand resting delicately on my arm, wisps of her dark hair trailing over the rich velvet of her cloak. “Tell me, where did you grow up?”

Thorn keeps her gaze fixed ahead, expression unreadable. “Oh, we moved frequently when I was young. My mother sought out remote villages in need of her skills.”

She doesn’t elaborate further, clearly avoiding specifics.

I try a different tack. “And your interests? Besides medicine and magic, how else do you pass the time?”

A small smile tugs at her lips. “Reading when I can get new material. Used to spend hours as a child hiding away with my nose in a book. And music… I find playing the flute can ease all manner of burdens.”

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