I smiled. “Probably.”
“All right, then.” He sat up straighter and fixed me with a gaze so sincere it took my breath away. “Cassie, I need someone to live with me because one hundred years ago Reginald, while practicing his turning wine into blood charm, accidentally poisoned me at a costume party in Paris. Which subsequently sent me into something akin to a century-long coma. I woke up in my Chicago home one month ago, knowing nothing of the changes of the past one hundred years.” He smiled again, but there was no humor in it. “I am as lost and helpless in the current era as a babe in the woods.”
The room started spinning as I tried to process what he was telling me. My grip on my coffee mug tightened without my even realizing it until my knuckles went white.
“I see,” I said, not seeing at all.
Frederick tilted his head to the side, gauging my reaction. “I believe I have surprised you. I understand. It was rather a lot for me to comprehend as well. And I was the one who went through it.”
“Mm.”
“Perhaps I should not have given you the condensed version after all,” he mused. “Maybe a more nuanced, detailed description with dates, place names, and settings would have helped ground the story and made it easier to understand.”
I doubted that. “I don’t think there’s anything you could have said or done that would have made that easier to understand.”
His face fell. “Perhaps not.”
“And so,” I said, piecing everything together. “You need a roommate because you need someone to help you navigate the modern world.”
“Yes,” he agreed. “But I need to do more than just navigate it. It is imperative to my survival that I blend into my current surroundings as best as possible. Or at the very least, that it is not too obvious that I am an anachronistic vampire living in the entirely wrong century.”
“Because . . .”
“Because it can be . . . dangerous, for someone like me to stick out too much. Deadly, even.”
What could be dangerous to a vampire? Weren’t vampires supposed to be powerful immortals who killed humans for sport? I waited for him to clarify, and for a moment he looked like he wanted to say more. Ultimately, though, he must have decided against it, because he simply leaned back in his chair, eyes on his untouched coffee.
I still had a zillion questions, though.
“Okay, but . . .” I shook my head. “Why me? Why am I the roommate you chose to live with you?”
His eyes widened.
“Isn’t it obvious?”
“No.”
He shrugged. “Who better to teach me about life in the twenty-first century and help me adapt to a modern Chicago than a young human like you who glides effortlessly through it?”
He met my gaze. His dark brown eyes were so soft and inviting.
I could get lost in them, I realized. My stomach did something that felt like a somersault.
Dangerous.
No, I yelled at myself. We are not going to be thinking about how hot and sad Frederick looks right now.
“Also,” he continued, “you were the only person who replied to the ad.”
Of course. The two-hundred-dollar price tag probably scared everyone else away.
“Okay, but . . .” I cleared my throat, trying to pull myself together. “Why couldn’t you just live with Reginald? He seems to be managing the world okay.”
“Unthinkable,” he said, flatly. “Reginald may be more familiar with the modern era than I am, but he is also the reason I am in this predicament. Additionally, he is chaos incarnate. Before you moved in with me, I was entirely dependent on his assistance. It was at least as terrible for both of us as you might imagine. The practical jokes he played on me, even while I was still in a coma . . .” He shuddered, then shook his head. “Though I concede that without him, I would likely have starved during my century of slumber. Or been run over by a car within an hour of my reawakening. Or been captured by vampire hunters.”
The room started spinning again. “Vampire hunters are real?”
“They were real a century ago. But in Chicago? Today?” He made a seesawing motion with his hand. “There are rumors that they are still out there. Though I admit I do not know how reliable those rumors are, especially since I suspect Reginald started most of them.”
“Ah.”
“Right,” Frederick agreed. “Cars, however, are absolutely real. I wish very much to avoid being struck by one while going for my nightly constitutional.”