Escaping The Beast: A Darkhills Romance (The Darkhills Series Book 2) by Elizabeth Greene (the best motivational books TXT) 📗

“It’s a vampire trait, not all vampires have the ability but it is not uncommon,” Lucian explained, “sorry if it makes you uncomfortable.”

“Does it work on other things or just opening doors?”

“I can move most things with my mind, within reason. The more animate or heavy the object the more strenuous it becomes.”

“That’s a neat trick to have,” Katherine replied, trying to keep any hint of awe from her voice or expression. She had already complimented him on his appearance, she didn’t want the evening to turn into an ego-inflating affair.

"How old are you? Am I allowed to ask that? I'm sorry if I'm being rude,"

Lucian smiled kindly, "not at all, age is just a number, it doesn't bother me. I was born in 1781, in the East of England."

"Two hundred and forty years old..." Katherine tried to conseal her surprise, "that's... is that particularly old for a vampire? I have no terms of reference."

"There are vampires younger than me, and there are those who are older," Lucian shrugged then grinned at her, "I'm not that much of an old man, if that's what you're asking?"

Katherine laughed. He certainly didn't look like an old man, he might have the charm and manners of someone from a past generation, but he moved and behaved like a man in his prime.

Perks of being a vampire, she supposed.

"Well, I don't think you look a day over two hundred," she teased, elliciting a chuckle and a polite nod of appreciation from him.

They stepped out onto the large balcony and the scent of roses drifted over her on the cold evening breeze. Katherine closed her eyes and tilted her head upwards and took a long, indulgent breath.

“That’s certainly one thing this place has over the city,” she smiled as she opened her eyes to look up at the stars that shone out like bright pinpricks in a dark blanket, “the air feels so clean here, everything feels more open, more free.”

“I agree. Have you always lived in the city?” Lucian asked as he led her down a set of stone steps into the rose garden below.

“For the past nine years or so. My father and I moved there when I was seventeen, I didn’t waste much time finding a job and my own place. But before that, we moved around a lot.”

“I wouldn’t want to speak out of turn but I can understand your desire to secure a home environment away from your father,” Lucian spoke carefully.

“Lucian, you don’t need to be polite about it. My father is a crook. Always has been, probably always will be.”

“Yet you came to his aid and agreed to this arrangement when he called for you, why?”

“Trust me, I have asked myself that question more than a few times. And after each time he calls me up, I swear that it was the last and the next time he calls, I’ll tell him to clean up his own mess. And yet, here I am. I guess it’s family, right? I suppose I’m just a sucker for feeling like the old man needs me.”

“And what about your mother? What does she make of him? I’m assuming they are no longer together as your father wears no ring,” Lucian asked, leading her around to where a fountain trickled quietly amidst the flower beds.

“My mom left us when I was eleven and died of a heroin overdose in a New York bedsit two years later, which suggests she didn’t think too highly of him,” Katherine smiled grimly, looking away to finger one of the petals of a large yellow rose.

“Katherine, I had no idea. I’m so sorry for your loss, for everything you must have endured,” Lucian lifted his hand and gently guided her face back to his with a soft caress, his dark eyes were sincere and Katherine wanted to fall into them and never leave. But that would mean that she had given up, and she couldn’t give in and feel sorry for herself. She had plans and she was determined to see them through.

“Let's change the subject, shall we? Who tends to all these roses? You, or Mr. Jones?” She said brightly, plastering on a pleasant smile.

“That would be me,” Lucian nodded with a kind smile.

“They’re really beautiful, aren’t the colours supposed to signify something?”

“They do, the yellow that you are holding there is for joy or friendship,” Lucian explained.

“Oh, that’s so nice,” Katherine thought about the yellow rose Lucian had left nestled within her belongings that he had fetched for her, “what about white?” Katherine, let go of his hold and strolled over to a bush of brilliant white flowers that seemed to glow in the low light.

“White can mean a few things, often sympathy, purity, and honesty,” Lucian stepped up behind her.

“I wonder how many you know; what about orange?” Katherine said, smiling at him.

“Orange is for desire.”

“Really? I don’t like orange. I thought desire would’ve been red.”

“Close, red roses often signify passion and love, but also represent respect,” Lucian smiled and picked up a large, delicate light pink bloom and offered it to her. She smiled and took the gift.

“Let me guess, this one represents argumentative and stubborn,” she laughed as she raised the rose to her nose to breathe in its heady scent.

“It means admiration,” Lucian said, his voice soft and sincere.

“Oh,” Katherine blushed. He really did ooze charm. “What about lavender?” She asked quickly.

Lucian held her gaze.

“It’s another one with a few meanings, some say it means love at first sight, others interpret it as enchantment.”

“What do you say it means?” Katherine asked before she could stop herself. Her heart suddenly started hammering in her chest as she pictured the perfect lavender rose that he had given her the morning after he had met her.

Lucian shrugged and looked away.

“I’m no expert so I wouldn’t like to say.”

Her heart grew heavy and she cursed herself for feeling a slight tinge of disappointment.

“But, what I will say is that I suspect your dinner will burn if