Page 34 of The Vampire’s Temptation

To her credit, Birdie merely looked curious. She hadn’t suggested that Alessandra commit herself to a locked ward.

Not yet anyway.

“It’s nuts,” she continued, not able to stop now. “But I can sense it’s true. I . . . I feel it in my bones. And I have a special sense about both of them too. I can tell when they’re near, and whether or not they pose a danger to me. Sometimes it feels like . . . like my body isn’t my own—”

“You’re scared.”

Understatement of the year.

“And they each claim the other wants to kill me.” She tried to smile, hoping a little levity might make this all feel less hopeless and messed up. “Almost forgot to mention that.”

Birdie’s curiosity had turned to concern, but one look at her face told Alessandra her hopes had been for naught. If Birdie had learned anything in her investigations of the unknown, it wasn’t about the Cheld or Alessandra’s strange new abilities.

“You’ve never heard of this before.”

Birdie shook her head. “No.”

“And you think I’ve lost it.”

Taking her hands, Birdie looked her straight in the eyes. “I think nothing of the sort. Now, you listen to me, missy. There are things in the world we can’t explain, whether you’re talking about the afterlife, the sixth sense, magic, or miracles. When we aren’t able to prove something exists, many of us jump to denial. We may even think those who do believe are crazy.”

Guilty as charged.

“But trust your gut, Alessandra. If your gut tells you it’s true, then you know better than any man, woman, or child who hasn’t gone through the same experience. Maybe go to the—”

“Police? And tell them what exactly?”

Birdie let go of her hands and gripped the counter in front of her instead.

“What are your instincts telling you to do?”

She tried to tap into some of that sixth sense Birdie had mentioned, but . . . nothing.

“Uh . . .”

“I’ll look into this and find out what I can, but in the meantime, you need to keep yourself safe. Maybe now would be a good time to visit your mom.”

But Alessandra wasn’t listening. Her gaze had snagged on the knife that sat among a collection of skulls that she walked past every time she entered the shop. She’d never paid it any mind until now, but she could not stop looking at it.

“Alessandra?”

For a moment, it was physically impossible to avert her gaze from that knife, but she finally managed to look away and meet Birdie’s concerned gaze.

“You told me to trust my gut?”

Birdie didn’t answer.

“Well, my gut is telling me I need that knife.”

The older woman’s eyes widened. “And what else is it saying?”

She smiled, at peace with her decision, even if it was not logical.

“It’s telling me to stay. Not to run home, or even to go to the police. It’s telling me to stay and”—she lifted her chin—“to keep that spa appointment I made for tomorrow and treat myself to a bit of relaxation because”—she looked back at Birdie—“something tells me I’m going to need it.”