Page 18 of A Vow for the Vamp
Healmostmakes me want to stay, but I can’t. He would grow old and die as I stayed the same age.
You could turn him.
I startle at the thought. I swore to never turn a human after I was forced to live this life without my consent. Even the humans who beg me, I refuse. They have no idea what they’re asking for. Becoming a vampire means never going outdoors to see the sunrise again. Never feeling your heart race when you’re excited or scared. People you love will die. They’ll be at peace while you go on to live forever and never age.
It’s unnatural. Life becomes repetitive. Life becomes boring.
My one and only friend, Layla, hates that I feel this way. For her, being turned saved her life. She was living in Spain, on her deathbed with the bubonic plague, when her husband paid a vampire to save her.
Vampires don’t like to drink the blood of humans sick with infections. It makes us ill as well. It won’t kill us, but we become weak for days. But Layla said the moment the vampire saw her, he became obsessed.
Vampires don’t fall in love. We fall into possession. We find a human we want and claim them. Before there were rules, many humans didn’t survive a vampire encounter. Now, if they’re lucky, they’ll be compelled and let go and forget all about the supernatural world. Or the vampire will become so infatuated that they’ll turn the human who then becomes immortal and develops a lust for blood.
It’s sick, and I won’t do it.
But Layla was dying, so she didn’t protest. Her husband offered the vampire extra money to turn him, too, but Layla needed a human to feed on to complete the turn. She attacked her husband, killing him—revenge for years of abuse. Then, a few weeks later, she plunged a wooden stake into her sire’s chest. A difficult and painful thing for a fledgling still bound to their sire to do.
But Layla wasn’t going to let another man control her.
She was given a second chance, and she embraced this life as most vampires do. However, I cannot fathom playing God and choosing who gets to live forever.
I was given forever, and I barely lasted five hundred years.
Would the next five hundred be different if I had Teddy by my side?
I shake my head, quickly changing into a pair of sweats and a shirt while Teddy dresses in the living room. How can I have that thought about a stranger, a human, when it’s barely been two hours since we met? I can’t explain it. I’m attracted to him, sure, and I could blame my exaggerated horniness on Ana’s booze and drug-infused blood, but I know it’s more than that.
Nothing in my world is ever that simple.
However, there’s no use investing in this connection if it will be severed at sunrise.
Returning to the kitchen, I open my fridge and frown. Right. I don’t have food here.
“It appears I need to go grocery shopping,” I say when Teddy joins me after getting dressed. “We could order in. Pizza?”
“Sounds good to me. I like everything. Except anchovies.”
Teddy laughs, his entire face lighting up with sunshine. A tinge of jealousy rips through my chest.
I wish I could enjoy life as he does. Teddy’s joy is natural. I’ve noticed any small moment garners a smile.
How I yearn to view the world through his eyes. Does he cherish every second as if it’s his last? He’d mentioned how controlling his parents were growing up. He spent years experiencing life in a limited capacity.
Is his dark past what brightens his present?
“Do you ever get angry?” I ask, grabbing my phone to pull up the website for the pizza place down the block to order a pepperoni pie.
“Sometimes.” He shrugs. “I find being angry is a waste of time and energy. Not always, but in most situations. Shit happens, and it’s often an issue out of our control. Why get mad or upset about it? How does that help? Especially when mistakes are made by someone who is likely overworked and underpaid. We are surrounded by strangers dealing with their own personal emergencies and adding fuel to the fire will only make it worse.”
“You’re a better person than me,” I say, in awe of this empathetic and compassionate man.
He leans his hip on the kitchen island and crosses his arms.
“Or maybe I don’t get angry because I just like to smile. Maybe I want people to find me irresistible or charming or handsome because of that smile.”
I raise a brow. “Is that why I brought you home? Your irresistible and charming smile?”
“Yes. And because you felt guilty for assaulting me with a door.”
