He withdrew several minutes later and stepped away, releasing her. Ashley touched the scars on her neck. The intimate exchange was rendered even more awkward by the fact she sensed only she found it intimate. Jonny did this every night; she doubted he was able to tell the difference between one woman and another.
"So." She cleared her throat and turned. "About tomorrow. Charles said he'd talk to you?"
"He did." Jonny leaned against the kitchen counter, dark eyes on her.
"And …" She prompted.
"You can go."
Ashley rejoiced internally and nodded. They gazed at one another too long, and she shifted her weight between her feet. Had anything ever been so weird?
"Is it always like this?" she asked.
"Is what always like this?"
"The, uh, blood thing. It's really awkward."
"No," he gave a half smile. "It's never like this. I'm usually fucking my dinner at the same time."
She stared at him.
"I usually brainwash them," he admitted. "They don't need to suffer on my account."
"They just need to die," she snapped.
"I am what I am."
I never knew you at all. "How many women have you been through?" she asked before she could stop herself.
"Seven hundred and fourteen."
She started to laugh and then stopped.
Jonny was serious.
"Why so many?" she managed to ask.
"I tend to drink more than the others. I generally kill one to two a week."
"So you can kill humans but they can't."
"Right," he said. "It's a necessity in my position, at least until I crush the rebellion and have the full respect of those who remain."
"That doesn't make it right."
"Right and wrong are a sliding scale where I sit. But I do remember all of their names and do my best to ensure they're never in pain. It helps me hang onto what's left of my humanity."
Ashley didn't know what to say. Jonny was calm and accepting of what he was and what he did. He didn't make excuses for his actions and clearly felt the impact of taking a human life in a way she doubted his vamps did.
The insight into him had the opposite effect she expected.
She cleared her throat once more and looked away. The past lingered between them, the sorrow she experienced when she realized she'd lost the person she cared about. This Jonny was nothing like him. Her Jonny had been sensitive and kind albeit misguided. He hadn't wanted to kill and didn't know how to use a woman let alone kill one. Whatever he claimed he felt, he had been good to her in the private moments they shared four years before.