“You didn’t think I’d stop at Coconut Sunrise, did you? We’ve still got Peaches and Dreams, Vanilla Vavoom, Let Freesia Ring… I have every intention of working my way through your entire collection.”
She laughed, resting her head against my chest. Her hair was still damp, and I pressed my lips to it, inhaling the unfamiliar scent of her new shampoo. Underneath it all, there was still just Gray, the sweet scent of her skin tinged with a hint of lavender and lilac.
I could very easily become addicted.
“Are you staying right in Manhattan?” she asked.
“Yes. I have a flat in the East Village.”
“Really?” Gray seemed genuinely surprised by this. “I would’ve pegged you as a Park Avenue penthouse kind of guy.”
“I have one of those, too, but I much prefer the Village. Not quite so stuffy, much better people-watching, interesting restaurants when I’m in the mood for a human meal.” I leaned forward and retrieved our wine glasses from the coffee table, passing one to her. “Have you been?”
“Not to that part of town, no.” Her eyes misted, but wherever her thoughts had taken her, they brought a gentle smile to her lips. “Calla used to take me into the city every year around Christmas. We’d do a whole staycation thing—play tourist for a few days, check out the tree and all the holiday displays, eat until we nearly burst.”
“Did you stay right in the city?”
“No, usually on the outskirts. But one year—not long before she died—she surprised me with a room at the Plaza. She must’ve saved all year for that, but we had so much fun. Half the time we didn’t even want to leave the hotel. We just kept ordering room service in our bathrobes and pretending to be famous.”
Letting her eyes fall closed, she sipped her wine, lost for a moment in her own memories.
“What was your favorite thing to see?” I asked gently.
She answered without hesitation. “Central Park. I used to stand in the middle of the Great Lawn and look up at the sky, trying to catch snowflakes in my eyelashes. I’d pretend I was trapped in a giant snow globe.” Gray laughed, and when she opened her eyes again and met my gaze, her blue eyes sparkled. “I guess that makes me a total cliché, right?”
“Appreciating something beautiful is never cliché.” I swept a lock of hair behind her ear, cupping her face. “I wish I could’ve seen you there.”
“Maybe you did.”
“I would have remembered. Believe me.”
“I don’t know, D. Sometimes it feels like the people who are meant to be in your life keep crossing your path long before you ever actually meet them.”
I swirled the wine in my glass, then sipped, pondering her words. Perhaps she was right. After all, she’d been drawn to the Bay for a reason—all of us had, at one time or another. And by demonic intervention or fate or forces far greater, she’d become part of my life, too.
Maybe it was meant to be.
“What time is your flight?” She sat up, reaching for her phone on the table to check the time. “Should we call an Uber? You never know what security at Sea-Tac is going to be like.”
“I have a private jet, love. It’s the only way to ensure I’m not caught unprotected in daylight. Besides, have you ever traveled commercially?” I shuddered in sheer horror at the thought. “That is a fate I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy. Well, maybe myworst. Certainly not my third-worst, in any case.”
Gray laughed. “Not all of us are jet-owning gazillionaires.”
“Then I suppose it’s good you have at least one friend who is.” I set down my glass and gathered her into my arms again, kissing the tip of her nose. “And when this is over, I’d like to take you to New York—just the two of us. Would that be alright with you?”
Her eyes lit up, making me wish I’d offered it sooner. That I could offer her such simple pleasures every day for the rest of her life.
“Are you serious?” she asked, and the pure, unfiltered joy on her face served only to remind me how important this mission was. How urgently I needed to speak with Grinaldi and track down his rogue vampire before Gray or any other witch came to further harm.
“As serious as this.” With no more than a grin as fair warning, I captured her lush, wine-dark mouth in a kiss so deep and all-consuming, the demon whose bed she’d undoubtedly share tonight would still be able to taste me on her lips.
Unfortunately, my plan backfired. Rather than leaving Ronan a message for later, my kiss seemed to send out a beacon, for the demon in question was suddenly hobbling through the front door with his hellspawn companion, the two of them looking for all the world like they’d been chewed up and spit out by the devil himself.
“Sorry to break up the tender moment,” Ronan said. “But we’ve got bloodsucker problems. Big ones.”
Nineteen
GRAY
