Page 54 of The Tainted and the Tamed
Her expression turned more serious. “I don’t mind hearing about your past, you know. I’d like to hear about it.”
Haruki reached out, smoothing the wrinkle on her forehead with his thumb. “Don’t fret,” he said, folding his other hand behind his head. Without realizing it, he gazed up at the ceiling instead of at her.
“I’m very old, Murasaki,” he said, relenting. “I’ve experienced love and loss in hundreds of ways. I’m not sure anyone can understand those things the way an elder vampire does.”
“Elder?” She snorted, even as she brought her body closer, the points of her nipples inclined towards him. It would be so easy to caress the side of her breast, to take one of her nipples between his fingers and change the subject altogether.
But he didn’t. Not right away, anyway.
“It’s true. I’m one of the older vampires.” He held out his arm, inviting her to fit in beneath his shoulder once more.
“I do understand loss,” she said after a beat.
He arched a brow. “Who did you lose?”
“First, my father, when I was young. Then my fiancé.”
That had his attention.
“You were engaged?”
As languidly as a cat, she curled in next to him, even stifling a yawn. “His name was Takeshi. He worked in one of the offices above the factory floor, and I would clean them. He was so often working late, it became natural to see him there and—well. You didn’t ask the details, did you?”
“I ought to be past jealousy.”
“You’re still a man,” she said, playfully poking his ribs. Her brief smile faded. “I was the sicker of the two of us. So it came as a complete shock when he nodded off at his desk and didn’t wake up. He died sometime during the night, probably gasping for breath.” She patted Haruki’s chest. “So I’ve lost him, and I’ve lost a future. More than one future.”
“I gave one of them back to you,” he said, suddenly ill at ease, “with my blood.”
“That you did.” She covered a yawn with her hand. To his dismay, she sat up again, stretching as though she meant to part from him. “I’m going to return to the maids’ quarters. I start work again in the morning.”
“What?” He matched her posture with such speed, her eyes grew wide.Shit. She was still jumpy from her encounter with Chiyo. Who wouldn’t be?
For all his feelings of renewed humanity, he’d forgotten what it was like to be so vulnerable. To fear death.
“Ms. Tanabe shouldn’t have scheduled you,” he said, his voice rough.
“I asked her to.”
“But—”
But wasn’t everything perfect as it was? Why do you want to return to being a maid when you can be a chairman’s mate? Why didn’t you tell me before this?
Because I would’ve stopped it.
“No ‘buts,’” Murasaki said, smiling good-naturedly. “I’m fitter now than I’ve been in years. It’s time for me to return to work and earn my keep.”
“You don’t have to—”
“I do, Haru.” Her smile was too broad—too painted on as she began to dress. Why was it all falling apart so suddenly? “It’s not fair to the rest of the staff. I can’t leave them short-handed when I’m perfectly able to work.”
“But—”
She shook her head. “This is a good position. I have enough money to send some of my pay home to my mother, to be sure she wants for nothing and my brother doesn’t bear all the burden of her care. Besides, it’s not in my nature to keep everyone fussing over me for no reason. You would understand that, if you’d been sick for as long as I have. It’s a blessing to be able to work.”
Scratching at his head, Haruki said, almost mournfully, “I don’t understand. What you’re doing—it’ll make it that much harder to see each other.”
“Find a way, then.” She said it like a challenge.
