Page 17 of Wounded Soul
“Hey.” She grinned at him. “You busy?”
“No.” He set down the book he was reading and beckoned her inside.
She joined him on the bed, back against the headboard. “I do love your view.”
Jesse’s window was south-facing, the special glass cutting out the sun’s harmful rays, giving him an uninterrupted view of the house’s extensive grounds and the farmers’ fields beyond. Lys’s was on the opposite side of the house.
“Yours isn’t so bad.”
“I know, but you get the sun.” Resting her head against the wall, she closed her eyes and hummed. “I miss the sun.”
It hung low in the sky now, just over a couple of hours away from sunset. Jesse glanced at his phone, noting the time.
“The meeting’s in about half an hour. Did you want something in particular, or...?”
“I had to escape the kitchen. Peter’s in there, grumbling about lack of freedom or something like that. I wasn’t really paying all that much attention, but you know how he goes on.”
Jesse laughed. “I do.”
“So I thought I’d come here because, with all the excitement last night, I totally forgot to ask you about your human.” She raised her eyebrows, and Jesse wondered if he could make it past her to the door and safety.
Last night he’d wanted to talk about it, now not so much.
Following his line of sight, she huffed. “Don’t even think about it.” She grinned and nudged him with her elbow. “Come on, you usually love a good gossip.”
“When it’s about you or someone else we know. Not when it’s me.”
“What was his name?” she asked, ignoring his protests.
“I don’t remember.”
She laughed and poked him this time. “You’re such a shit liar. Come on, spill. I need some cheering up. You know this meeting’s going to be a nightmare.”
It was.
The meetings before a VLCD inspection never went down well.
“Fine.” Jesse gave in, much to Lys’s delight. “His name’s Ian.”
“Ian what?”
Jesse frowned. “What does that matter?”
She held up a hand. “It doesn’t, calm down. I was only asking.”
He didn’t want to tell her or anyone else Ian’s last name. He trusted Lys, but you never knew who else might be listening. The rooms were as soundproofed as they could be, but with an old building like this, there were always ways to listen if you were desperate enough. They didn’t feed from humans anymore, but that didn’t mean he wanted to bring one to their attention.
“Carry, on,” she urged, settling against his side.
Ian’s scent lingered on his hair and his skin, faint after his shower, but if Jesse closed his eyes and breathed in deep, he could still detect a trace. He smiled. “I met him in a bar, went home with him, and we had sex. That’s it.”
Rolling her eyes, she huffed. “Way to ruin a good story. You haven’t been with anyone in...” Her face screwed up in concentration. “It’s been so long, even I can’t remember.”
“It was Alexander Masterton, from one of the London covens.” Tall, dark-haired, and lovely. He’d been a breath of fresh air. For a moment Jesse had thought he’d found someone to spend a good few years of his life with, if not the remainder of it. They’d even discussed moving covens, but of course it hadn’t worked out that way.
“That was almost ten years ago!” She sounded horrified.
It was nine years, ten months, and three days to be exact. Not that Jesse was counting, but some dates stuck in one’s head.
