CHAPTER 8

Brandon's voice was simply icy, but I couldn't keep quiet: those beautiful feminine hairs intrigued me.

– Why do you keep them here?

My companion was silent.

– Probably so that they would remind you of that girl? – I suggested.

– Yes» he answered coldly.

– Did she give them to you?

– Almost» my neighbour said with a mocking chuckle.

His words and tone surprised me.

– How so?

But Grayson didn't answer again, and I knew it was best not to ask.

– Can I touch them? – I dared, reaching out to touch the hair I was interested in, but Brandon instantly grabbed it.

– No» he cut off short.

«Psycho! What's the big deal?» – I jerked my hand away and looked up at him: the sternness of his face scared me a little.

– I'm sorry, I just wanted to-» I started embarrassedly.

– Just stay out of it» Brandon interrupted me.

But my curiosity was stronger than my mind.

– Who is she? – I asked quietly, hoping Grayson wouldn't scold me for this interrogation

But he grinned darkly again.

– If you ask me that again, I'll put you in the back of a car and you'll ride in it the rest of the way to Oxford.

I swallowed: his tone was so convincing that I was scared, and I bit my tongue. I didn't want to ride in the boot.

– I'm sorry I was talking too much» I said, trying to calm his anger at me a little.

– Yeah, you like to talk, and now you're talking about something you shouldn't. – Was his answer. His voice didn't warm.

– I get it. I'll keep my mouth shut.

We drove in silence for a while after that unfortunate conversation; I felt annoyed that I hadn't been able to find out anything about the girl Cedric loved, or the girl who'd given Brandon her hair. I was frustrated because I knew how Cedric's love story ended, but I didn't know how it began and continued. Summary: Cedric disappeared and his girlfriend was taken away from him. But why? Why? How dare they?

The silence was starting to depress me.

– Brandon» I called quietly to him.

– What?» he said calmly.

– Let's just talk… About something!

– Oh, Misha, you're so frustrating. Can't you see that I'm not much of a talker? – Brandon laughed softly.

– I swear I won't touch on what we talked about again. I just have an important question. Well, please talk to me! I can't drive in silence! – I begged.

– I noticed that. All right, I'll answer your question, but promise me you'll be silent afterwards. You're keeping me from thinking.

– I promise. – I said I would.

– Good. So, what's your question?

– Do you like being a vampire? – It wasn't really a question that was important to me; I just wanted to talk about something so I wouldn't feel terribly awkward.

– That's a strange question» Brandon smiled suddenly. – Where did you get that idea?

– There was a lecture on identity the other day» I blurted out: there really was.

– Since you're curious enough not to be embarrassed by the possibility of being in the back of a car, I'll tell you this: I like being a vampire, even though it can be hard sometimes.

– And if you had the choice of becoming human or remaining a vampire, which would you choose?

– I'd stay a vampire.

– Why? – I was surprised at his firm stance: he didn't even hesitate in his answers.

– Because mortals are disgusting creatures with an endless list of demands and problems. They are always fussing and constantly whining. Their lives are all about the primitive pursuit of food. We have only three problems: to kill and be unnoticed, to find entertainment to keep us from withering away, and the last but most stupid of all, our damned eternal love. I wish it hadn't existed. – He said the last words very quietly, but sharply.

– Do you think it's better for us not to love? – I asked, finding Brandon's beliefs interesting and thought-provoking.

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