Count

27. So You Want to Be a Vampire

Sergio called the next day. "Inari," he said as soon as I picked up. "I am so incredibly sorry."

"I'm not going to lie. I was scared yesterday," I told him.

"I know." His voice was strained. "But do you see now why I want to keep you away from all this?"

I had been thinking about it a lot, tossing and turning in the solace of my bed, and I'd come to a decision. "I do, and it seems to me that I won't be safe living in your world as a human." Sweet macarons, I couldn't believe I was speaking these words with perfect sincerity. "So either we need to break up, or you need to turn me into a vampire." I swallowed. "Maybe not immediately, because I want to be damn sure I love you and wish to spend eternity with you before making a decision like that, but you need to agree that it will happen eventually if we keep dating."

Even more pain entered his voice. "Inari, I'm torn between pushing you away and selfishly drawing you near," he confessed. "But I cannot in good conscience condemn you to this life. I want you to be my girlfriend officially, Inari. Can that be enough?"

"I understand that you don't want me to be a vampire," I was frustrated now, "but what is the point of dating if it won't last?"

"You will be a demon!"

"Will I still have free will?"

"Not when you are hungry! Look at how I behaved last night!"

"Then give me up!" I said. "If you refuse even to consider the thought of letting me stay with you for life, then give me up. I don't want to postpone my heartbreak any longer."

His voice broke. "I can't."

"What do you think is going to happen down the road, if not me becoming a vampire? When will you leave—when I'm thirty? Forty? Eighty?"

There was an interlude of quiet like the moments before a funeral when no one speaks. "All right," he eventually said. "All right. I'm giving you up."

My chest felt heavy, and drawing breath was difficult, like I was buried under stones. Sergio had bitten the bullet, and I couldn't beg him to spit out the pieces now. "Okay," I said. "I'm sorry."

"So am I."

"If you ever change your mind..."

"I will give you a call. But don't count on it."

So that was it then. It was over. We lingered over goodbye, and then I hung up, and then I cried.

After a few days, I was sick of moping about in my pajamas, so I dug through the purse I hadn't touched since Milan for Malachi's number. I needed to go out with someone fun and charming, and he had seemed into me.

I called him. "Hey," I said. "This is Inari Yamashita. We met at that party in Milan, and then you sent me flowers."

"How could I forget?" he said jovially. "To what do I owe this call? Please tell me you've been kidnapped and were given one phone call, but my number was the only one you remembered."

"Not quite. How do you feel about being a rebound?"

"It's my favorite kind of bound to be! After 'to the bed,' of course."

I laughed. Yes, Malachi was just what I needed to forget about Sergio and his drama. "Will you happen to be in London anytime soon?"

"As a matter of fact, yes. Next weekend. Can I take you on a stroll through Hyde Park?"

"That sounds wonderful."

"How about noon? I'll bring a picnic for us."

So he wasn't a vampire. I had been mildly worried, but pretty sure he wasn't. His hands when I danced with him didn't have the deathly chill that Sergio's did. "Perfect."

"I'll see you then."

The sun blazed, the birds chirped, and everyone had their phones out, snapping pictures of the gorgeous day. I spotted Malachi, waving and carrying a picnic basket and blanket.

He kissed my cheek in greeting. "How are you, love?"

"Eager for a distraction," I said.

He tutted while spreading the blanket over a patch of grass. "Still heartbroken over Genovesi? We'll fix that in no time."

I plopped down next to him.

Malachi unpacked a feast from the basket, which was lined with red checkered cloth. "I'm damn glad for whatever that vampire did to lose your favor."

"You know about vampires? Of course, you do," I said.

"Dealt with a lot of them in my time. Nasty pieces of work."

I felt the urge to defend them. "They aren't all bad."

Suddenly serious, he raised my hand to the scar through his brow, meeting my eyes with disconcerting intensity. "See this? Feel it? Vampires can't scar like you and I can. Creatures without imperfections will strive to maintain their illusion of perfection, even as the world crumbles around them."

I shivered. "Let's talk about something else."

Flippant again, Malachi said, "Right. We're cheering you up. Pick a sandwich. I didn't know what you'd like, so I made several."

I took a ham and cheese. "This is all wonderful, thank you."

Remnants of that intensity remained, making me wonder how much of his lightheartedness was an act. "Anything for you," he said.