Fangs | mlm

Chapter 37 - Breaking the ice

Trevor asked only one more conversation-opening question on their way back, and it was, "How did you and William meet?"

Eleonora seemed to have lost the question in the roar of the engine. She didn't even look up at him or move. He thought it was better this way. Perhaps the amount of answers she was willing to give ran out.

So his attention moved back to the asphalt road stretching ahead. The sky above was so blue it looked like summer or spring rather than winter—there weren't any clouds. Additionally, the snow on the tree branches had begun to melt, so the leaves seemed greener, or more vivid. Trevor was made to put on the sunglasses because of all the sun beaming and flashing in his eyes. It all meant spring was coming, and the brunet thought it was high time.

Then, to his confusion, Eleonora let out a laugh.

"What?" he asked.

She suppressed the laughter to say, "Can't be too curious, can you?"

Only then did Trevor peek at her to see that she was looking at him, but her eyes didn't study him, they seemed friendly. "You know how it is."

"Mm, not quite. Explain?"

Trevor didn't want them to be so tense, so he took on a jokey, or rather leisurely tone. "I'm not used to getting so many answers a day, you know."

"That's true," she admitted with two nods, quite serious. "But, Trevor, it's not an interesting story. No one died."

"Eleonora!" he scolded her. "No one should die in it. As far as I know, you're both pretty much alive."

"Oh, but you know what I mean." He assumed she rolled her eyes. "I don't want you to fall asleep behind the wheel. It's dangerous."

"I've never seen this amount of concern from you," he noted. "Should I be worried?"

He heard her laugh again. "Good point," she said, "but do I have to remind you who took care of you after you got shot?"

"Okay, true. So, will you tell me?"

"Yeah, no problem," she said almost immediately.

He looked at her, thrilled. "Really?"

"No." Her nose wrinkled.

"Eleonora," he groaned, while she chuckled.

"Okay, stop being all grumpy. I will tell you."

"Will you? For real?"

"Yeah." There was no irony in her tone.

"Great. Go on then," he said, without taking his eyes off the road. "I'm listening."

"So." She cleared her throat. "As I told you, it's not a very interesting story, because I met him through another vampire. You don't know her. She used to be a friend of mine, or rather a client. She's not dead, I guess. I don't know what happened to her, though."

"Wait, come back. Your what?"

"My client," she repeated.

"What would a vampire need a potion for?"

"I didn't sell potions back then, stupid. I didn't even think about it. I was dealing—or let's say—selling blood illegally for vampires."

"What?"

"Yeah, there used to be a huge market for it in London when I was in my early twenties."

"Eleonora! I thought you're all fairies, potions, magic, and stuff."

"And I think your assumption is wrong. Besides, you're talking to the person who shot Miranda's shoulder off to save you. I was never soft. Not close."