She suspected he was a vampire—he only came to the library after dark, and his eyes had that mysterious, ageless look. Not to mention his clothes were expensive, and European. So when he flirted with her, she invited him to her room, because, hello? Immortal undead lover—how cool was that?
The night was absolutely everything she could have wished, although the biting thing was much ickier than she’d imagined it would be. “You’ll be back tomorrow night?” she asked him.
“You’re nineteen. I’m two hundred and twelve. What could we possibly have in common?” he said, and left.
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