Free Unrequited by Emily Shaffer

she suddenly felt very aware of the fact that she was alone with him, and in that moment felt another pang of attraction. In spite of her mind's wishes, her body and emotions betrayed her every time Will was near.
    He continued to move closer until he was standing directly in front of her. The journal in her hands seemed to grow heavy with the weight of what it symbolized. She was holding Will in the pages of this book. If she opened it, she was opening herself to him.
    “This is very personal, I really shouldn't…” Ashton tried to push the book toward Will.
    He placed his hand over her hand which held the journal. “Yes, you should. It's my past, and I try not to go back there, but maybe my past can help you move into your future.”
    Ashton nodded her head and thanked him, and turned to hurry for home. She tried to tell herself the setting sun and cold weather made her rush, and not the spark she felt when Will touched her hand.
     
     
    ***
     
     
    When Ashton left his house, Will felt a little devious about giving her his journal. He had been earnest when he told her he hoped she could learn from his experience. What he hadn't told her was that the story of how he came to be a vampire was written on those pages. Perhaps if he let her know his story, she might finally divulge hers. There was a soft and vulnerable place inside Will that hoped Ashton would start to see him and know him for who he was. More and more, his thoughts were resting with the lovely and stubborn girl. For now, he would save those thoughts for his quiet moments at home.
    Along with his burgeoning romantic interest was the curiosity of how her change compared to his. There was also a need to know who had attacked her, so he could try and stop others from being harmed.
    Will wondered what had become of his own attacker. Almost two-hundred years had passed, but he remembered it as though it were yesterday.
    “Really, Will, you know your horse is no match for mine. You’re entering into a fool's wager,” Samuel Beckett warned his friend, all the while readying his own horse for the race.
    “I will beat you, and when I do, you will give me your saddle.” Will was a great horseman, and he had an advantage: he knew the roads and trails better than almost anyone in town.
    “All right then, on your sound, we race. The first one to reach the Willow Creek Bridge wins. Tom is there to witness for the victor.” Samuel had his horse ready.
    Will called “go,” and both men were off at a demon's pace.
    The bridge was five miles from the starting point, and there were several paths to get there. Samuel had taken the straight path through the woods, but there was water to cross and which would surely slow his horse down. Will chose to cut across a field. It wasn't as smooth, but it led to an abandoned farm that provided an excellent shortcut.
    Will's horse was running as he rarely had. If he could keep this pace, the victory would certainly belong to him. He made the turn from the field to the drive of the old farm. Normally he would slow down to avoid the old nails and boards that had fallen away from the dilapidated house and barn, but Will was focused on the race and continued his breakneck speed.
    He had rounded the house and almost passed the barn when something hit him and everything became blurred. Will hit the ground with a force he'd never experienced. The breath was completely knocked from him, and it seemed as though all the sound had gone out of the world. He tried to look up and caught a glimpse of his horse struggling back to its feet. They must have run upon an obstacle that caused him to be thrown and his horse to fall.
    Will struggled to take a deep breath and still couldn’t find the air. At that moment, he realized pain was shooting through his back. Something had stabbed him, and if his current condition was an indicator, it had pierced his lung.
    There was no way to call out and nobody around to hear him cry if he could. Will