Die for Me

I popped a tiny ball of fresh goat cheese into my mouth and chased it with a sliver of oil-drenched sun-dried tomato. “I feel spoiled,” I said dreamily, leaning my head on Vincent’s shoulder. It felt so good to touch him after three weeks with only my pillow to hug.

“Good. That’s exactly what I want you to feel. The only way I can compensate for this extraordinary situation is to make it up to you in an extraordinary way.”

“Vincent, it’s amazing just being here with you. I don’t need anything else.”

He smiled and said, “We’ll see about that.”

As we ate, something Jean-Baptiste had said earlier in the day popped into my mind.

“Vincent, what happened to Charles?”

He was silent for a moment. “What did Jean-Baptiste tell you?”

“That Charles threw a knife at his portrait and ran away.”

“Yeah. Well, that was the end of the story. It started with the boat wreck and just got messier.”

“What happened?”

“Well, the day after the rescue, when his mind woke back up, Charles had Charlotte help him track down the mother of the girl who had died. He started following her around in volant form, wallowing in the guilt of not having saved her child. After he reanimated a couple of days later, he began stalking the woman. Leaving presents at her door. Taking flowers to the funeral home. He even attended the little girl’s funeral.”

“Very creepy.”

Vincent nodded. “Charlotte was worried and told Jean-Baptiste the whole story. He sat Charles down and forbade him to see the woman. He even mentioned sending the twins to one of his houses in the south, to distance Charles from the situation until he got his head back together.

“And that’s when Charles flipped. He was out of control, ranting about how unfair the whole thing was. How he didn’t want to be a revenant for eternity, forced to sacrifice himself for people he didn’t even know, and exiled if he tried to get involved in their lives. He blamed Jean-Baptiste for feeding and caring for him after he woke up, and not letting him die ‘as nature intended’ after he was shot. And that’s when he threw the knife.”

“At least he didn’t throw it at Jean-Baptiste!”

“He might as well have, the way it hurt JB. Then he stalked out of the house, and Charlotte just about had a nervous breakdown.” Vincent paused. “We’re sure he’ll come back once he gets it out of his system.”

“He seems to have had a chip on his shoulder even before the boat accident,” I said.

“Yeah. He’s always been the most existentially minded of all of us. Not that I haven’t thought long and hard about our purpose here. He’s just had the hardest time accepting it.”

That would explain a lot, I thought, feeling a little bit sorry for Charles.

“When did he leave?”

“Two days ago.”

“That’s when I saw him,” I said. “Friday night, a bit after midnight.”

“That’s what Jean-Baptiste said. So . . . you were out clubbing without me?” He gave me a teasing smile. I could tell he was trying to lighten the atmosphere by changing the subject.

“I was attempting to dance my sorrows away.”

“Did it work?”

“No.”

“Maybe it would work if I were there,” he said smugly. “Should we go out dancing some night?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never seen a dead guy dance. Think you can keep up with me?” I joked, and in response Vincent grabbed my shoulders and leaned forward to press his lips firmly against mine.

My senses were instantly concentrated into those few tiny millimeters of our skin that were touching. And then he broke the co

“I take that as a yes?” I panted.

“I missed you,” he said, and leaned in for more.

 * * *

“It’s late. You should be getting back,” Vincent said after a couple of hours of lying on the couch and cuddling and catching up on all my nonevents.

“Actually, I have special permission from Mamie to stay at your family’s house tonight, if I need the time to patch things up with you.” I felt a wicked grin spread across my face.

“What?” From his look of surprise, it seemed I had finally told him something shocking instead of the usual vice versa. “I’ve got your grandma on my side? Will wonders never cease?”

“I’m not sure it’s exactly on your side; it’s more on my side. Or maybe even hers. She doesn’t want me to waste away from misery under her own roof.”

Vincent laughed. “Well, we wouldn’t want to misuse Mamie’s trust. You can take my bed. I don’t need it anyway.” He winked. “Anything to spend more time with ma belle Kate.”

I melted inside.

While he concentrated on getting the fire restarted, I got up and wandered around his room, looking at his things for more clues as to who this mystery boy really was. When I reached his bedside table, I froze. Where my photo had stood was a small pot of flowers.

“I gave your photo to Charlotte,” Vincent said, walking up behind me. “It was too hard for me to see your picture every day when I knew I couldn’t see you in the flesh.”

I touched his arm to show I wasn’t upset. “I’ll give you another one. That wasn’t the most flattering of portraits, I have to say.”

“Good idea,” Vincent said and, digging a camera out of the table next to his bed, held it up like a trophy.

“Right now?” I grimaced, wondering if I looked as tired as I felt.

“Why not?” he asked, and standing next to me, he put his arm around my shoulder and held the camera out in front of us. “Hold still. It’s better with no flash,” he said, and pressed the shutter release. He turned the camera around so we could see the shot.

My heart was in my mouth as I looked at the image of myself standing next to this godlike boy. His eyes were half-shut, and in the dim light of the room the circles under them actually made him appear more handsome than ever—but with a hint of darkness.

And me . . . well, I was glowing. Next to him, I looked like I was where I was supposed to be. And I felt it too.

We sat up on Vincent’s bed and talked until late in the night. Finally my eyes began to close on their own, and he asked if I wanted to sleep. “Want, no. Need, maybe. Too bad your revenant insomnia can’t rub off on me.” I smiled, stifling a yawn.

He pulled a light blue-green T-shirt out of a cupboard and tossed it to me across the room. “To match your eyes,” he said.

I rolled my eyes at the cheesy remark but was secretly pleased that he happened to know my exact eye color. The shirt was big enough to come halfway down my thighs. “Perfect,” I said, and looked up to notice that Vincent had turned around to face the wall.

“Go ahead,” he said in a playful voice.

“What are you doing?” I asked him, laughing.

“If I am forced to watch Kate Mercier strip down to her undies in my very own bedroom, I’m afraid I won’t be able to answer to Mamie for what might happen.” The huskiness in his voice made me wish, for just a second, that he would follow through with his threat.

Pulling the shirt over my head, I said, “Okay, I’m decent.”

He turned around and looked at me, whistling under his breath. “You’re more than decent! You look practically edible.”

“I thought revenants weren’t into eating human flesh,” I teased, blushing in spite of myself.

“I didn’t claim we never lapsed when pushed beyond our limits,” Vincent countered.

Wondering if all our conversations were going to be this bizarre, I shook my head with a smile and fished my phone out of my bag. Texting Georgia, I asked her to tell the school I was staying home “for personal reasons” and that I would bring a note from my grandmother on Tuesday.

And soon afterward, sitting on the bed with my back against the wall and my head on Vincent’s shoulder, I fell asleep.