Page 93 of John’s Yearning

“Same thing,” Deirdre claimed. “I protected innocents by killing their tormentors.”

John suppressed a smile. Deirdre was right. She’d done the right thing.

Samson sighed and exchanged a look with Gabriel, then gave him a sign to continue.

“You’ll undergo our bodyguard training, learn the rules we live by,” Gabriel said. “That will have to be enough.”

Deirdre nodded. “It’s good enough for now.” Then she sighed. “How are the girls Logan and I brought back from Russia?”

Deirdre and Logan had transported almost a dozen other girls back from Russia, in addition to the ones John and his team had rescued from the ship in Vladivostok.

Samson gave her a bittersweet smile. “Physically, they’re mending. Maya is doing her best to make sure they heal. But emotionally, there will be scars. Particularly the ones who were in Russia for a few months, are in bad shape. They endured weeks of sexual abuse. We haven’t been able to return them to their parents yet. Some of them are so distraught that we are worried they’ll harm themselves, given the chance.”

John’s heart broke for the girls. “Have you thought about erasing their memories?” It was a gift vampires possessed, but used only in dire circumstances.

“We’ve discussed it with Maya and Dr. Drake. Both are of the opinion that it’s the best way, rather than having these girls undergo years of therapy. We’re taking care of it later tonight.”

“I’m glad,” John agreed. “And with what explanation will you send them back to their parents?”

“We’re working on that with Detective Donnelly. They’ll need to know the truth, or at least part of the truth. But we can’t tell them everything.”

John knew that Donnelly would come up with something that worked for everybody and threw no suspicion on Scanguards or revealed what had really happened.

“And Viktorov’s money?” John asked.

“Thomas hacked into his accounts and transferred all of it out. He wired Savannah’s ransom money back to her. The remaining money is going to a fund to benefit victims of sex trafficking.”

“Good.” Then John looked at Deirdre. “You probably don’t know yet, but we’ve dealt with all the people who were involved in the trafficking stateside.”

“You didn’t kill the kidnappers?” she asked.

“Only Viktorov himself. We handed Otto Watson, the hacker, over to Donnelly. He’ll receive a reduced sentence in exchange for his cooperation. The two kidnappers, the ones who kept the girls at the port in Oakland, will do hard time. Donnelly will keep Scanguards out of it, and the police chief and the mayor are backing us up.”

“You should have killed those two,” Deirdre said.

“I would have, had they touched the girls,” John confessed, “but I don’t kill indiscriminately. Don’t worry, they’re paying for their crimes. And they’ll have nightmares for the rest of their lives.”

Before handing them over to Donnelly, John had made sure that they knew what he was, and that he would rip their throats out if they ever breathed a word about vampires. He could have erased their memories, but he wanted them to know that vampires existed, and that the two kidnappers were on his personal shit list.

“So it’s over, then?” Deirdre asked.

“Yeah, it’s finally over.”

Though for John, life was only just beginning. He’d gotten a second chance, and he was grabbing it with both hands and holding on with all his might.

39

Eight months later

Dressed only in a pair of jogging pants, which he’d slipped into after showering upon returning home just before sunrise, John stood in the kitchen of his house and opened the pantry. Then he looked over his shoulder and stared at Buffy. She was dressed, her hair neatly combed, and ready for school.

“Are you sure you want peanut butter and banana? That can’t taste good.”

Buffy let out a long-suffering sigh, like a teenager annoyed at her parent. She even rolled her eyes as if she’d practiced it a thousand times. “I don’t criticize your taste in blood. Believe me: peanut butter and banana is awesome. Way better than jelly.”

He smirked. “I’m gonna have to take your word for it, my little slayer.”

A smile flashed across Buffy’s face, just like it always did, when he called her by her nickname. Since the night he’d saved her and her mother, Buffy knew all about vampires, and the nickname was a joke between them. She’d accepted him without question and trusted him one hundred percent.