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She crinkled her nose.What a morbid bird. Strong, too.“So where’s he?”
“Oh, yes. I almost forgot.” Maxton whistled. Suddenly, the trees began to rustle. The ground shook beneath her feet.
“What the hell is that?” she asked, taking two steps back.
“That’s Parrot.” The bushes beside them were suddenly flat, like something large and invisible stood on top of them.
“Maxton! What is that?” she repeated.
“I told you. It is Parrot, my hellhound. Don’t worry. He doesn’t eat much.”
Hellhound?Was that why the ground always shook around here? How fucking big was it?
“Wo-wow,” she stuttered nervously. “You are-are full of surprises, Maxton.” MF had never seen a hellhound, nor wanted to, and now she knew she never would. They were invisible. “But you can’t take a hellhound to LA.”
“I cannot leave him here. He has guarded my lair for years.”
So Maxton hadn’t been doing all that killing?It sort of relieved her. He wasn’t exactly a saint; maybe his road to redemption wasn’t as bad as he thought.
Maxton stepped in front of her, gazing down with his jungle green eyes. MF inhaled deeply, losing herself in his beauty.
“From the first moment I met you,” he said, “I knew you were special. Your presence soothed my soul.”
It did?“Then why did you push me away?”
“A bad man like me,” he shrugged, “has no right to be with someone like you, MF. You are too good.” He cupped her cheek and kissed her deeply. Her heart melted as his mouth moved with hers.
He suddenly pulled away, staring with those hypnotic eyes. “Thank you for giving me a new life and new purpose. I love you, Mountain Flower.”
Her heart soared. “I love you, too.” They really were happy together. Strange because it was just as Cimil promised.A vampire. A family. A purpose. MF had all three now. It almost made her feel guilty that Cimil was locked up in some Uchben prison for immortals.
“Okay,” MF sighed contently, “you can bring the hellhound.” What was one more member of the posse, right?
“Do not worry,” Maxton said cheerfully. “He is very docile. Mostly. Come, Parrot.” Maxton started marching down the hill.
She felt a hot breath on the back of her neck. “Oh fuck. Oh fuck.” She chased down after Maxton.
“Are you sure Brutus is going to let that thing on the plane back to LA?”
“Who says we must tell him?”
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Damien opened up the shop, feeling a little sprier than he had this past week. He missed Sky but kept telling himself that as long as she was alive, their story wasn’t over. He would see her again someday soon, and if it was meant to be, she would stay. As his wife.
In the meantime, he had a house to rebuild. He couldn’t very well propose to Sky when this was all over and not have a home to offer her.
Alone at last in my shop!As it was always meant to be. Just a man and his suits. No more frilly dresses and circus animals.
He walked into the storeroom and switched on the lights.Almost alone.“Good morning, Stewart. I got you coffee and a doughnut. You may use the bathroom to relieve yourself and clean up.”
Damien gave it some thought. He knew this was the man who murdered MF’s family, but he really wanted things to go back the way they were before at Greystone and Sons. Minus the rage demon.
No pesky fairies, Chihuahuas licking their genitals in front of customers, ex-vampires with poor fashion choices, or gods manipulating me into doing their evil bidding.Life was finally looking up.
“Stewart, after you have cleaned up,” Damien said, “I think I am going to cut you free. I will get you a bus ticket back to Tijuana.”
“Thank you,” Stewart said in a drab voice.
