Promised

“Dad, I told you—I’ll be back as soon as I can.” I paced the front porch, the sun warming my bare feet. “Eden’s doing better, but she still needs more time.”

Eden was my best friend. My dad, Big Kyle, thought she was upset because her boyfriend, Brian, had died recently. The situation was more complicated than that. Actually, it was a lot more complicated: Brian was dead because my stepmother, Becky, had shoved him down an abandoned well.

That same night, James had turned Eden into a vampire.

But my dad didn’t know any of that. He didn’t even know that vampires existed… 

“Taylor honey, I understand she’s been through a lot. It’s terrible what happened with Brian. But you have to come home. You’re supposed to start classes next week.” Big Kyle sounded frustrated. “You can’t skip your senior year of high school. No matter what’s going on.”

He wasn’t just talking about Eden, and I knew it. “I have to go. I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?” Before he could argue, or worse—before he could mention James—I hung up. 

James Champlain was my boyfriend. At least he had been. Back before all this happened, back before he’d turned Eden into a vampire and banished us to one of his estates while she healed…

I stared at my phone. No text messages, no missed calls, no nothing. I opened my photos and flicked to the last one I had of me and James, the night of the gala, the lavish fundraiser he’d hosted at his home. James looked insanely handsome in his suit, his arm thrown casually over my shoulders. His smile made my heart stop. Then there was me, nestled against him, wearing the blush-pink gown he’d bought me just for the party. 

There was something funny about me in the picture—I looked different, and it had nothing to do with the dress. I was smiling in the photo, which was rare but not impossible. I stared at the image, searching, but then I realized what it was: the smile reached all the way to my eyes. That was the difference. I looked genuinely happy.

But now my boyfriend, if that’s what he still was, hardly returned my calls.

“Hey,” a familiar voice said.

I stuffed my phone into my pocket as Patrick lumbered out and crouched down next to me, his dark skin glistening in the morning sun. He wore his usual uniform of mesh basketball shorts and a plain white T-shirt. He’d taken his cornrows out and cut his hair shorter, which showcased his high cheekbones and handsome face. 

“Eden’s all set for now,” Patrick said. 

Eden became a vampire six weeks ago, and Patrick and I had been taking turns babysitting her. Her transformation had been difficult. It pissed her off that we’d strapped her to her bed—she wanted to hunt. She wanted to drink. She wanted to feast on…humans.

“You want to go for a walk, or something?” He squinted out at the yard. “I need to get out of here.”

I grabbed my flip-flops, and we trekked across the lawn to the beach path. I always felt small standing next to Patrick; at six-foot-two and two hundred pounds, he had that effect on people. 

Two vampire guards waited at the path’s entrance, dressed identically in dark suits and sunglasses. All the guards who patrolled the property wore the same uniform. 

“Let’s get through Vampire Secret Service.” Patrick smiled at them. “Morning. Taylor and I are just going down to the beach. Is that okay?”

The female guard nodded almost imperceptibly. 

“T-Thanks,” I said, but she didn’t respond.

The guards worked for the James’s family, the Champlains, who were wealthy vampire aristocracy. At first, I’d been uncomfortable being surrounded by strange vampires, but I’d gotten used to their constant, silent presence. If nothing else, they reminded me of James. 

Patrick and I headed down the path, the dunes rising on either side. “So how is she today?” I asked.

“Good. She’s drinking a lot. She just guzzled another whole pint of blood.” 

“Is that normal—for her to drink that much?”

Patrick nodded. “My mom said that’s common with newbies. They have to build their strength.”

“We’re lucky your mother can help.” Mrs. Cavill, Patrick’s mom, was also a vampire. 

Patrick shrugged. “Yeah well, there are perks to having an overprotective parent.”

“Does Eden remember anything new today?” I asked. In the weeks since her transformation, Eden had been confused. She remembered the accident that ended her human life, but she didn’t recall becoming a vampire.

“Not really, but she seems more like herself this morning.” Patrick shrugged. “It’s going to take some time, you know? We’re six weeks in. My mom says she’ll get better after this—she’s at a turning point.”

My heart lifted a little. Poor Eden had been through a lot. “That’s good.” 

We reached Lucy Vincent beach. Even though it was early, lots of families had dragged their belongings down the dunes and arranged their chairs and enormous coolers. Children were already in the water, boogie-boarding, shrieking as the gigantic waves crashed. August was the busiest month on Martha’s Vineyard, or so I’d read. I hadn’t really paid much attention to the island we’d been hiding out on. 

“So…” Patrick peered at me. “How’re you holding up?” 

“I’m fine.” I sighed. “But I just talked to my dad, and he wants me to come home.”

“Don’t classes start next week?” he asked gently.

“Yeah, but it’s not as if twelfth grade is as important as my best friend. I can’t leave her like this.” 

We walked down to the water’s edge and dipped our feet in. It was so much warmer than home. The water back on Dawnhaven, the island we lived on in Maine, was perpetually freezing, guaranteed to turn your toes numb in under a minute. 

“You’re not leaving her alone. I already told you, I’ll stay with her as long as it takes. I’m taking the semester off.” Patrick scratched his neck. “She’s getting better every day. And like I said, with my mom and all, I know what I’m doing.”

“I appreciate that, I do. But I can’t go back to the island and face Mrs. Lambert unless I know Eden’s one-hundred percent okay.” But would that ever happen? Could a new vampire be okay?

Eden was supposed to be a sophomore at Bowdoin College this fall, but she’d asked for a leave of absence. The school had granted the request immediately, but Eden’s family was more difficult to navigate. They wanted her home. They wanted to see her. They wanted to know why she was, in Mrs. Lambert’s words, “hiding from everyone.”

There were excellent reasons, but we couldn’t tell them the truth: new vampires had a hard time controlling themselves. We locked Eden up so she wouldn’t attack us or try and escape to feed from other humans. We’d kept her hidden at James’s private estate on the Vineyard, surrounded by a fleet of vampire guards, and fed her a constant supply of donated blood. 

I spoke to Mrs. Lambert regularly. I assured her that Eden was getting better and would come home. I hoped it would be soon; I couldn’t wait to get back to the island for my own selfish reasons…

“Taylor? Did you hear me?” Patrick asked.

“Uh, sorry, I spaced out for a second.”

“I know. You had that look. What I was saying was, I talked to him last night.” Patrick raised his shorts up a fraction and waded out deeper into the water. “He called to check in.”

Him. He called to check in. Like everything to do with him, the mention of James hit me hard, almost knocking the wind out of me. It took a moment for me to get the question out: “You talked to James?” 

Patrick nodded. He looked as though he felt sorry for me.

“What did he say? How is he? Did he sound any better?” Once unleashed, the questions crowded out of my mouth.

“Woah, woah, easy. He sounded fine. Not good, you know, but fine.”

I waited while Patrick stared out at the water. Any tidbit of information about James was something I could take back with me, to dissect at my leisure, to hold on to and think about in the lonely hours of my day. “Please tell me what he said—tell me everything.” I didn’t even try to mask the eagerness in my voice. 

He sighed. “James said your dad’s been calling him twice a day. Mrs. Lambert even went out to the Tower and brought him some food. She said she’s worried about him.”

“That was nice.” Mrs. Lambert was a skilled cook. She hadn’t been happy that James had lent Eden his Vineyard house, abetting her escape. That she’d put her issues aside long enough to bring him food was a good sign.

“Yeah, James said she stayed out there a while, talking about Brian and what happened. She wants Eden to come home.” Patrick frowned. “She thinks the longer she stays away, the harder it’s going to be.”

“So…what did he tell her?” Eden wasn’t exactly preoccupied with her ex-boyfriend’s death. She barely mentioned it. She was too busy craving human blood every second of the day. 

Patrick shrugged. “He said that he hoped she’d be able to come back to the island soon.”

“What else?” I licked my lips. “Did he mention anything else?”

“He said Josie and Dylan drove home to the city. They left yesterday.”

“Yeah, I know. Dylan’s classes start next week.” Dylan Khatri and Josie Banks were two of James’s closest friends. They’d stayed on Dawnhaven for the summer but were returning to Manhattan so Dylan could finish her engineering degree. “Josie said they didn’t want to leave him, but they needed to get back.”

“Yeah.” Patrick dragged his foot through the water. “The thing is, I don’t think James should be alone.”

“Are you… Are you worried about him?”

He shrugged. “I think you should go home to the island, Taylor. He won’t ask you to. But I know he misses you.”

My mouth went dry. “I don’t know if that’s true.” 

Patrick gave me a long look. “Just because he’s upset doesn’t mean he’s upset with you.”

“Of course he’s upset with me.” I crossed my arms against my chest. “He’s not talking to me. He’s not texting, and he’s not calling. And when I do talk to him, he speaks in one-word grunts. Every time I ask him how he is, he says ‘fine.’ If I ask him how things are going with the police investigation, he says ‘okay.’ If I ask him if he’s mad at me, he says ‘no.’ And then he says he has to go.” 

Patrick looked past me, up the beach path, and raised his eyebrows. 

“What?” I asked. “You don’t believe me?” 

Patrick’s eyes got wide. “Um, it’s not that…”

“I’m telling you,” I said, warming to my topic, “it’s been terrible. He won’t talk to me—he’s impossible. Literally impossible. I tell him I’m sorry, I cry, I tell him I miss him, and I get a one-word grunt. He barely calls me, and when he does, he just sits there and mouth-breathes.” 

My chest heaved as my long-dormant volcano of frustration erupted, words spewing. “I don’t know what to do anymore. He hates me. I love him, and he hates me. He’s never going to forgive me, and I don’t blame him, but the least he could do is talk to me—”

“Um.” Patrick winced. He looked as though he was in pain or might get sick. “Ah…”

“Patrick, what is your problem?” 

Suddenly—like a mirage appearing—James waded into the water. He got closer, then stopped. 

I took a stumble-step back. I must be dreaming. Six-foot-two, broad shoulders, steel-gray hair, dark-blue eyes, square chin. Pale skin. Absofreakinglutely gorgeous.

He—the mirage?—stared at me.

“What the…?” I gaped at him.

But James, if it was James, said nothing. He just kept staring. Is he real? I wondered if I’d finally snapped and was hallucinating his handsome form…

Patrick shifted on his feet, looking between us, obviously uncomfortable. “Oh boy.” 

I couldn’t believe my eyes; I didn’t. Tall, pale, and agonizingly attractive, James’s muscles rippled in the sun. The dark tattoo on his bicep peeked out from beneath his close-fitting tee. I stared at the outline of his broad chest—I’d been starved for the sight of him. 

His gaze burned into mine.

A mirage. A dream. A beautiful, painful hallucination.

“Are you…?” But I couldn’t get the words out. Are you real?  

James didn’t smile, but his shoulders dropped, as if maybe he was relieved. “Hey,” he said. 

“Hey?” My voice was shrill.

I hadn’t seen him in six weeks, and it was like someone had wrenched my heart out of my chest and stomped on it daily. I hadn’t been able to eat. I hadn’t been able to sleep. All I did was pace, berating myself, going over all the wrong I’d done.

He still stared at me, those blue-gray eyes mesmerizing. As if I’d been in the desert for weeks and he was a pool of fresh water, I drank him in, mirage or not. The thick, dark eyelashes I loved, the square chin, the way his hair blew back from his face… 

My feelings battled inside me. I wanted to smack him, to kiss him, to cry while he held me, and to simultaneously beat my fists against his chest. 

My emotions bubbled over, hot lava. “Hey? That’s it—that’s all you have to say?”

James shrugged a big shoulder. “You’re the one who said it: I’m speaking in one-word grunts. So…yeah. Hey.”

“Hey yourself,” I said, then promptly burst into tears.

I turned on my heel and ran from them. Tears streaked my view as I tore through the dunes, desperate for the safety of the house.

I flew past the guards, rushing up the stairs to my room. I couldn’t believe James was here. I’d wanted, more than anything, to see him, to be near him again. But when he’d appeared like a ghost out of nowhere, all I’d felt was…pissed. 

Because pissed was easier than heartbroken. It was easier than afraid, afraid that he didn’t feel the same way about me anymore…

“Taylor.” James had followed me. He knocked on the door. “Let me in.”

I paced, running my hands through my hair. My insides wrenched as he rapped on the door again. I glanced in the mirror. My eyes were puffy and red.

“You know I can just come in through the window.” His voice was hoarse.

His words tugged at me, but I was still angry, raw. “Wait—wow. Was that a complete sentence?” 

“Ha.” Something pressed against the other side of the door, and I sensed it was his forehead. 

“Fine,” he said, after a minute. “You don’t have to let me in if you don’t want to. I probably shouldn’t have come down here, anyway.”

That did it—I couldn’t bear the thought of him leaving again. I threw the door open, and James almost toppled inside. 

“Well.” He recovered himself and shook his head. “This isn’t exactly going how I pictured.”

I stared at him some more, overwhelmed by pure emotion. I’d been craving this. I couldn’t get enough of the sight of him. James stood in a patch of sunlight in my room, so close—it seemed impossible. 

That was partly because he’d been so distant, physically and emotionally, and partly because he was so beautiful, he looked as though he might not be real. With his broad shoulders and thickly muscled chest, he took up a lot of space. I drank in his handsome face, the blue-gray eyes, his square jaw. His thick hair was still windblown, pushed up off his face. With the sun outlining him, he appeared every inch an angel, too spectacular for this earth. 

“How did you picture it?” I wanted to sound angry, but my voice cracked.

“I don’t know. I have no idea. Maybe not tripping over myself, or making you cry in the first five minutes.” He raked a hand through his hair. “How are you doing?”

I shook my head, tears threatening again. “Not good.”

James winced. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault, remember? It’s mine.” My shame, always lurking, overwhelmed me. “I asked you to do the one thing you swore you’d never do again. I’m the one who begged you to turn Eden. You didn’t want to—and I knew it—but I asked you to, anyway.” 

“What happened was my fault.” His expression turned sour, a storm cloud gathering. “She was too young to die.” 

“You saved her.”

“No, Taylor. I ended her.” He shook his head, his eyes darkening. “I brought trouble to the island. If I’d stayed away—if I’d left you alone in the first place—none of this would’ve happened.”

“That’s not true.” I yearned to go to him, to put my arms around him and take his pain away, his guilt. But since I was the source, I didn’t know if he would ever want me to touch him again. 

I’d asked him to turn Eden, and I was pretty sure he hated me for it. Or he hated himself. Most likely, he hated us both. 

He glanced above me. “It’s not true, Taylor.” His voice was hoarse. “I could never hate you.”

My traitorous aura, the swirling color above my head that only James could see, revealed everything to him. “That’s not how it feels.”

“Please.” He took a step toward me, then stopped. “You have to understand—I broke a promise to myself. It’s not something I can get over easily.” James had vowed to never drink from a human again, a vow he’d kept for over a hundred years.

Until I’d begged him to save Eden by turning her.

“I’m not asking you to get over it,” I said quickly. “I’m asking you to stop pushing me away. Or if you’re done with me, to let me know. The waiting is killing me.” Since we’d been apart, I’d felt a pressure on my chest, as heavy as a boulder, crushing me. 

“I’m not done with you.” James shook his head. “I couldn’t ever be done with you, even if I should be.”

Tears pricked my eyes again as I sank onto the bed. “That’s not how it feels.”

He stood rooted to the floor, clenching and unclenching his fists. “Do you understand that the reason all of this happened—Brian, Eden, even Becky—is me? I’m the reason.”

I shook my head. “That’s not true. You didn’t make Becky what she is.”

His lips puckered. “You don’t know that.”

“I know you were trying to save Brian and Eden from Becky. What happened at the well was her fault, not yours.” I wished more than anything that I could forget that terrible night. But those last moments before Brian died were seared into my memory: Becky went to throw Brian at Eden, but James hit her with a burst of light. It shot Becky forward—Brian flew from her arms directly into Eden’s chest, and they tumbled backwards into the well. Eden screamed as they sailed down into the darkness. 

I often heard Eden’s screams in my nightmares.

“You see?” James’s gaze flicked above my head again. “Your aura isn’t trying to protect my feelings. I know it was the most terrible night of your life. And that’s because of me—because you were involved with me.”

“Can you please stop using the past tense?” 

He cursed and rocked back on his heels. “You came to the island to be safe with your father, to start a new life. Then you met me, and all the craziness began.”

“It’s not like Becky needed a lot of encouragement to go off the deep end.” The fact was my stepmother had always hated me. When my mom died, I’d been forced to move in with my dad, Becky, and my half-sister, Amelia. Becky had made it clear that she didn’t approve. Then she’d started exhibiting strange symptoms, and she’d completely unraveled the night of the gala…

“You know what happened with Becky wasn’t within the realm of ‘normal.’” James’s voice was low, with an edge to it. “I brought these things to you. I brought supernatural danger into your life and into your house.” 

He scrubbed a hand across his face. Immortals didn’t need to sleep, but his expression was tight. His shoulders sagged. He seemed exhausted.

“Hey. C’mere.” I patted the bed next to me, even though I was petrified that he would say no. That the answer from then on would be no. 

When he didn’t move, I took a deep breath, gathering my courage. “Please.”

He finally came and sat on the edge of the bed, closer to me than he’d been for weeks. I tentatively reached out and put my hand over his, and as soon as our skin touched, I sighed. Relief flooded me. Touching him made it seem like something had been returned to me, something I needed to feel whole.

“Taylor.” James closed his eyes. “I missed you so much.”

“Why don’t you sound happy about it?” In fact, he sounded miserable.

He opened his eyes and looked at our hands. “Because I don’t want to ruin your life.”

Then he turned to me, and I saw it on his face: the devastation.

I gripped his hand. “Please don’t do this. Please don’t say goodbye to me.”

James looked up at the ceiling, as if searching for divine intervention. “I don’t want to destroy you.”

“You won’t. You saved me.”

He leveled his gaze with mine. An edge of blue tinted the steel-gray of his eyes, which in the bright cheeriness of my room, made him look even more sad. “I don’t really think either one of us believes that anymore.”