Music of Souls

Jackson longed to comfort her, yet he couldn't. His wounds were too raw. He needed distance in order to maintain control of the emotions thundering through him. "So, you thought you could make a relationship with a vampire work?"

"Yes."

"And what do you think now?"

"I think I've made a mess of things, and don't know what to do about it."

"Didn't you want to kill me that first night; I mean, isn't it in your nature to kill vampires."

"Just because we can kill vampires, doesn't mean we all want to. You can kill us; do you go around looking for every opportunity to do so?"

"No, but I try to stay as far away from your kind as I can."

Elisabeth stood, hugging herself. "I should go."

"No, wait, please."

Her voice cracked with the strain, "You have made your feelings clear. There is nothing else to say."

"Jesus, how can I have made my feelings clear when I don't even know what they are. Please sit down." She sat, but didn't speak. Jackson asked, "Did you give any thought to how the relationship would work?"

"Yes, I would have to go away at the full moon."

"So, separate vacations once a month and all's well, huh?"

"I don't know what you want me to say. I cannot change what I am. If you can't accept that, there is nothing more to discuss." She put her face in her hands to hide the despair it would show.

"Honestly, I don't know whether I can or not. I still can hardly believe any of this is real. I expected to be convincing you to accept me today. Instead I'm here trying to figure out how this could have happened."

They were still for a long while. Jackson began to feel calmer. Even through the pain, being with her comforted him. He finally broke the silence, "So, are you some kind of wolf royalty?"

"Something like that."

"Care to elaborate?"

"All wolves are governed by the ruling pack into which I was born. We see to it that the rest of our population behaves within certain guidelines. We do not smell like other wolves for protection. If vampires can't smell us they can't hunt us."

"You were born a werewolf?"

"All werewolves are born, not turned."

"How old are you?"

"Pretty old."

"Define 'pretty old'."

"Older than you."

"Wow, so I've been dating a cougar?"

"Cute, but you have the wrong species." They both produced strained chuckles.

Jackson folded his hands. "I have never told you how old I am."

"Well judging from your art collection and furnishings at Fairhaven I would guess you're about a hundred and fifty years old."