Page 36 of The Second Sight
“You’ve been collecting all this stuff forever,” she said, her voice filled with wonder. “It’s like... a secret history of the world.”
“The true history,” I corrected gently. “Humans record what they can see and understand. But the supernatural has always existed alongside them.”
She turned to me. “And the fae? My mother’s people? Yumboe? Where do they fit into this history?”
“The fae are one of the oldest supernatural beings,” I explained, leading her toward a smaller display containing what appeared to be a simple circlet of twisted silver. “They were here long before humans evolved, long before the first vampire was created. They’re beings of pure magic in physical form.”
“Created?” She repeated, focusing on that single word. “Vampires were created? You weren’t always like this?”
I smiled at her perceptiveness. “No. The first vampire was once human, transformed through a ritual, magic so dark and powerful that most of our kind don’t know its details even now. That was nearly six thousand years ago, in what is now Iraq.”
“And you? How were you turned?”
The question stirred memories I rarely accessed. The cold Massachusetts winter, the fever that had nearly killed me, the pale figure that had appeared at my bedside offering salvation at a terrible price. “That,” I said, placing my hand at the small of her back to guide her toward the next room, “is a story for another time.”
As we continued through the mansion, Kasi’s questions flowed endlessly, each answer seeming to generate three new inquiries. Her mind worked quickly, drawing connections between pieces of information. She was building the framework to understand this new reality. I found myself enjoying her intellectual curiosity, the way her eyes lit up with each new revelation. It had been centuries since I’d experienced the supernatural world through fresh eyes.
“And vampires and fae,” she asked as we climbed the grand staircase to the second floor, “do they get along?”
“Historically, relations have been tense,” I admitted. “Most fae consider us aberrations, as beings that should not exist according to natural law. We find them cryptic and unpredictable.” I paused on the landing, turning to face her. “But there have been exceptions. Rare instances of cooperation. Even rarer instances of deeper connections.”
She caught my meaning immediately, her gaze sharpening. “Like what happened between us?”
“What’s happening between us,” I corrected softly, “is something I haven’t encountered in a very long time. This feeling. Do you feel it?”
“Yes.”
“What do you feel? Tell me.” Yes, I was forcing the issue. I needed reassurance that I wasn’t in this alone.
“I don’t know how to describe it. I don’t have the experience like you do.”
“Show me with a kiss.”
We locked eyes. I stood still as Kasi took two steps to face me. Her smile lit up her face and her cheeks ballooned as her honey-colored eyes held me hostage.
She hesitated only a fraction of a second before closing the space between us. The world seemed to hush. I caught her face in my palms, tracing the delicate lines of her jaw with my thumbs. Her lips were soft, parted with an unspoken question, and as I lowered my mouth to hers, centuries of longing surged forth.
Our kiss was hot. Heat flared between us, ancient and electric, as if something fundamental had shifted at the moment of contact. Her breath mingled with mine, so sweet and warm, awakening memories of loves lost and lives unlived. I drank her in, the taste of fae magic lacing her lips, a spark that ignited every dormant part of me. My hand slid into her hair, her body pressed into mine, and time unraveled. Nothing existed but us. This was a taste of what we were and what we were becoming together.
When we finally parted, I couldn’t let go, not yet. The greedy side of my mature had arisen. I kissed her again, softer this time while I relished all of her kisses I would have in my future.
Kasi’s resemblance to Basirah was no coincidence. Perhaps some greater force had drawn us together across time and blood and magic. But that was a conversation for another time. For now, there was still much of my world to show her.
Chapter
Fourteen
SEVEN
My house tour culminated at the end of the west wing’s long corridor, where a set of double doors carved with intertwining serpents marked the entrance to my private quarters. I hesitated, my hand resting on the ornate brass handle. In all my centuries, I had never brought any humans to my sanctuary.
Kasi stood beside me, her eyes tracing the intricate carvings, unaware of my momentary hesitation. The scent of her skin, that intoxicating mixture of warm human and ancient fae filled my senses. With a silent acknowledgment that crossing this threshold would irrevocably deepen whatever was forming between us. Love, dare I say it. What was forming, was love. I pushed open the door and led her into my most private domain.
My bedroom spread before us, vast and darkly opulent. A massive four-poster bed dominated the space, its frame carved from ebony by an Italian master craftsman in the early 1700s. Dark silk sheets and burgundy velvet hangings complemented the rich mahogany floors, which were softened by Persian rugs I’d acquired during travels in the 1850s. Floor-to-ceiling windows lined the eastern wall, now covered with heavy drapes that blocked out the midday sun. Antique oil lamps cast a warm,golden glow across the room, illuminating eras of collected treasures.
“This is incredible,” Kasi breathed, stepping past me into the room. Her eyes darted from the decorative ceiling mural to the antique writing desk positioned near the windows, a piece I’d owned since my human days, one of the few possessions that had followed me through the centuries.
“Most of these items have stories attached to them,” I said, watching her move through my personal space. Her fingers hovered just above surfaces as if asking permission to touch. “Some pleasant, others less so. All part of a life that’s stretched longer than I ever anticipated.”
