Once through the trap door at the top, Rahil turned the opposite direction from the main attic space, handing Violet the mugs and opening the large back window under the low eaves. It creaked, stuck, then gave, swinging out onto the second story’s roof. Rahil stepped through.
“Careful,” he instructed, taking the mugs back so Violet could follow him. “And grab that blanket on the floor there.”
Beneath the layers of disinterest and annoyance, she seemed mildly impressed. “This is almost cool.”
“It’s a roof. Of course it’s cool,” Rahil replied, and spread the blanket on the lightly slanted portion above the master-bedroom, tossing the pillows onto it before settling down. “Fun fact about vampires—we love stargazing.”
“Ha ha,” Violet grumbled, but she tipped back her head. Her eyes grew wider and her shoulders more relaxed as she stared up into the cloudless summer night. The moon was still somewhere beyond the horizon and the city lights just far enough away to allow for the distant starlight to pierce the vale of endless emptiness, creating a kaleidoscope of glittering constellations.
Rahil sipped his tea despite how ruthlessly hot it was against the balmy night and took in the stars with her. “I wanted to build a patio up here. Put up a couple hammocks…”
Violet nodded. Slowly, without taking her eyes off the sky, she sat down too. She wrapped her hands around her mug, holding its warmth without drinking it, her expression as distant as the stars she gazed at. “Do you sleep up here?”
Rahil shrugged. “I don’t sleep much anywhere.”
“Oh.” Violet nodded again. “Me neither.”
“Insomniac?”
“Something like that.”
Poor kid; Rahil’s heart broke a little for her—a little more than it already had. He tried to ignore that tug in his chest, the temptation to do something for her—to besomeonefor her. Like his partnership with Mercer, this was a waystation. Violet deserved better than anything he could offer her. That was the point, after all: to convince her that it was best to leave him—and vampirism—alone.
The light of Violet’s phone flashed on, washing her face in an odd glow. She opened a music app. A gentle noise started up from the speakers, slow and melodic. She set the phone between them. “When I can’t sleep, sometimes this helps.”
“It’s very soothing.” Rahil drained his tea and leaned back, letting the sound roll over him. After all his years forming an endless list of things that wouldn’t put him to sleep, he knew nothing so simple could magically cure his wakefulness, but itwasincredibly relaxing.
“It’s the song of the loneliest whale,” Violet explained. “He makes a call that’s 13 hertz higher than anyone else in his species, so none of the other whales respond to him. They can hear him, but they choose not to.” She took a sip of her drink, quiet and thoughtful as she stared out to space. “He keeps calling anyway, though.”
That made something in Rahil’s chest ache that was too close to home to be safe. “What a sad fellow.”
Violet hummed and pressed the rim of her tea to her chin. “Maybe he’s not just sad, but hopeful too. He has to keep believing that someday, it’ll work. That’s bravery.”
“Or stupidity.”
“I thought adults were supposed to encourage positivity, not nihilism.”
“I live in a house that’s falling apart, with a bunch of freeloaders, in a society that hates me, trading blood for sex.” Was that too much? Ah, fuck it. “Some adults can be positive because good things eventually happening to them is a genuine possibility, maybe even a definite one.”
Violet didn’t look disappointed at that, only thoughtful. She glanced at him, like she was trying to decide where to place him in her zoo catalog of adults. “At least you have a thrall now?”
The sound that burst out of Rahil was so similar to the laugh Mercer had inspired earlier that he almost choked on it again. He smiled at the end, giving Violet a little nudge in the shoulder. “You’re a good thing, kid. I don’t know if you have people in your life telling you so, but you’re a damn good thing, and youshouldhave hope.”
The little twist in her lips was oddly familiar, there for a flash, then gone again. “Dad tells me that, sometimes.” She sighed. “But I don’t know if I should believe him. I don’t think he has hope either—not for me, and certainly not for himself. He’s kind of… stuck.”
“I’m sorry.”
Violet’s shoulders bounced. She leaned back, tucking her pillow under her head. The music that had been reverberating softly between them went quiet. “You missed the entire song.”
“Fuck, you’re right. Restart it.”
Violet did so with the utmost seriousness, settling back in after, stoic and serene. “Goodnight, Ray.”
Rahil closed his eyes. “Goodnight, you little creep.”
He swore the tiny snort she made was a disguised laugh.
Rahil gave it a count of thirty before he started to fake-snore.
