Page 31 of The Order of the Bitter Hunt

Vampire night owl is a bit of a cliché.

Margaux

Is it a cliché or classic?

Jun-seong

Both.

Margaux

Can’t sleep.

Jun-seong

Same.

I don’t know what to say, but I scramble to find something to keep the conversation going, but I come up with nothing. Jun is the only source of entertainment for the evening, and as midnight creeps closer, I’m afraid of the days to come.

This may be the last time I sleep feeling likeme. Tomorrow may bring a new Margaux with fears I can’t yet imagine.

I send one last text before closing my eyes for good.

Margaux

Good night.

Chapter Nine

My weekly therapy appointment comes right on time. My therapist is a seraph, but she appears like any other human… if you ignore the few minor details, like her wings. Her hair is white-blonde and striking against her umber complexion.

She’s perched on a stool, the only seating I can imagine her being comfortable on with her large, feathered wings. As always, I’m on the white sofa. The scent of lemon floats through the space, thanks to an air diffuser, and the light in the room is soft. It’s the picture of relaxation, but I can never find a moment of peace in the room.

Is this how most people feel about therapy?

“Okay, I know you warned me against it, but”—I press my lips together—“I started dating again. Or I tried to.”

“Oh?” She lifts a brow. “And how did that go?”

“Not well. I met her online, and she was sweet…”

“That’s nice.”

“It was. At first. But of course, I couldn’t get through the date without something happening.”

She watches expectantly rather than interrupting.

“I think she triggered a panic attack—not on purpose. It wasn’t something she did. Actually, I don’t know what it was, but she reminded me of Amelia.”

She frowns. “That’s not exactly what I wanted to hear from your first date after the event, but that makes sense. It’s only been a month. It may feel like time has passed, but that wound is still fresh.”

“Why should that stop me from dating? I don’t get it.”

“Trauma rarely makes sense, and trying to understand it only puts you under the weight of it. Don’t judge your responses. Do you know what the trigger was?”

“It was…” I close my eyes. “Her hair. It was the same color as Amelia’s. I didn’t consider it when we were texting, but once I saw her in person… it was different.”

“The people have no connection, but your mind still created a link.”