Page 57 of Eternal Surrender

“No.”

I’d hoped such a familiar red might stir his nostalgia, perhaps even nudge him in the direction of home.

Sebastian’s fingertips caressed his lips thoughtfully. “You looked sad up there.””

Remarkable. Despite his own problems he’d caught my inner-reckoning back on Big Ben.

He straightened in his chair. “Strange that a man who can fly is so damn sad.”

“When was the last time you slept in a bed?” I asked.

He glanced at the one here and gave a deep sigh.

“That’s a long time,” I whispered.

“I can’t trust what I saw. Or what I think I saw.” He put down his empty glass. “Because it’s not possible.”

“I understand why you would think that.”

“Why are you being kind to me?”

“You don’t think you deserve it?”

“Most people who look at my tatty clothes think I’m a homeless bum.”

“Pain has led you to the place where you must come to terms with it. Only then will you find your way out of it.” I realized those words were also meant for me.

“You sure my father didn’t send you?” He rested back.

“I’m afraid not.”

“Are you like a guardian angel?”

I chuckled.

“Did you drug my wine?” he slurred.

Now wasn’t the best time to admit to Sebastian that a few drops of vampire blood mixed with, say, a 1976 glass of Brevier de Jane, or any wine for that matter, would eventually make a mortal sleepy.

“Everything is going to work out for you.”

“You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” he whispered.

“I thought that was dancing.”

“I’ve given up on all that foolishness.” His eyelids fluttered, threatening to shut.

Caught off guard, my tears blurred my vision.

Chapter Twelve

Gazing up at the foyer’s low hanging chandelier, I was distracted by the way the crystal droplets refracted candlelight, throwing off shadows that danced around me like taunting demons hauntingly conveying the truth⁠—

I’d have gone for something more Gothic.

I broke away and ascended the staircase with a sluggish step, trying to shake off the guilt of leaving Alex alone here.

There was something comforting about his bedroom, the familiarity of being surrounded by some of his things, and I wandered over to his wardrobe to check his clothes were still here. I scrunched up one of his shirts and buried my face in it.