Rogue Darkness by Dianne Duvall

“Are you sure?” she countered. “What does wanting to go out and kill vampires for a distraction say about me?”

He clasped his hands behind his back. “It says you care about the safety of others more than you do your own. That you will risk your life to keep others from losing theirs to predators they have no hopes of defeating.” He hesitated. “And it says grief is eating you up inside, that you’re hurting and desperately need a respite.”

Tears welled in her eyes.

“Guilt is, too.”

Yes, Jared missed nothing. Guilt over giving her loyalty to the man who had eviscerated her brother in front of her constantly gnawed at her. Yet she couldn’t view her actions with the positive context he’d applied to them.

“We all have regrets,” he murmured.

When she looked at him, his gaze seemed far away, as if he saw the past rather than the placid campus around them. “Even you?” She found it hard to imagine someone of his age and wisdom making the mistakes she had.

His lips turned up in a smile that bore no mirth. “Oh yes. Several millennia’s worth.”

Would she say the same thousands of years from now?

Shivering at the depressing thought, Tessa hoped not.

Long minutes passed as they meandered down the path.

“When I wish to forget those regrets for a time, do you know what one of my favorite distractions is?” he asked casually.

“Movies?” she guessed with a smile.

He grinned with boyish enthusiasm, the expression taking years off his face and making him look almost as young as some of the university students. “Yes.”

Oddly, it lightened her spirits. She studied him curiously. According to the accounts she’d heard, Jared had lived in almost total isolation for thousands of years. “Did you only discover movies recently?”

“Oh no. Films have long been my secret obsession. Many years ago, when rumors surfaced that someone had discovered a way to create moving pictures, curiosity drove me to slip away from the Others and see for myself.”

She grinned, imagining him sneaking out like a teenager despite the thousands of years he’d lived.

“Did you know that when movies first got going during the silent era, the industry was full of women writers, directors, and producers?”

She looked up at him in surprise. “Really?”

He nodded. “Oh yes. Far more women directed films then than today. Lois Weber was even Universal’s highest-paid director at one point and launched her own production company, signing what was then considered the most lucrative deal in the industry with Paramount. The films were quite progressive, too, as some would say today. Not at all what you would expect.” Warming to the subject, he regaled her with descriptions of early movies that sounded nothing like the black-and-white movies she’d watched with her great-grandparents.

Tessa smiled as he grew more animated, that odd reserve falling away. Before long, she chatted as fervently as he did, her troubles forgotten as he entertained her with tales of furtively attending movie screenings, even though he was supposed to avoid all interactions with humanity.

She grinned when he admitted that he’d once hidden in the rafters of a warehouse to watch the production process and, when he got hungry, zipped past craft services to steal treats meant for the actors. She laughed when he told her he’d once shifted into the form of a cow so he could appear in a western.

“I told myself that I wasn’t technically breaking the rules,” he said with a grin, “because I was only interacting with other cows, not with humans.”

Tessa was still laughing when his cell phone chimed.

“Forgive the interruption.” He drew it from his back pocket. “I’m fielding some of Seth’s calls tonight.”

She nodded.

“Yes?” he answered.

“It’s Gerard,” a male cried in a French accent. “Caleb needs help. We came up against a larger group of vampires than usual and—”

“Are you fighting them now?” Jared cut in.

“No. We managed to defeat them. But Caleb nearly lost an arm and a leg. Both are barely attached.”

“It’s only a flesh wound,” Caleb called in a British accent in a tribute to Monty Python’s The Holy Grail that made her smile.

Jared glanced at Tessa, his reluctance clear.

She motioned for him to go.

“I shall be there shortly.” As soon as he pocketed his phone, he reached for her shoulder. “I’ll return you to network headquarters first.”

Shaking her head, Tessa backed away from his touch. “No, thank you.”

“You aren’t supposed to hunt alone,” he reminded her gently.

“I’ll be fine. I’ve hunted with Sean often enough lately to handle myself with any vampires I may encounter.” She motioned to the quiet campus. “And it looks like nothing is happening here anyway.”

“Nevertheless—”

“I’ll be fine, Jared.” Touching his arm, she gave his big biceps a friendly squeeze. “Really.”

He glanced down at her touch. And she could’ve sworn a flash of gold lit his eyes for a heartbeat before they returned to a brown so dark that it was nearly black. “I don’t believe you’ve ever called me by my name before.”

Surprised, Tessa released him. “I haven’t?”