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Then, between one breath and the next, his arms crush me to him, and the kiss has transformed into need. A fang scrapes over my bottom lip… and then he lifts me in his arms and runs, racing back to the manor. I cry out in surprise and cling to his neck, pressing my face into his collar to hide from the dizzying effects of the speed.
We arrive at the entryway as Mr. Steward opens the door. Lawrence steps out of his carriage first, holding up a lanky, black rabbit by the scruff. “I believe this is yours,” he says dryly, bringing the demon to eye level to glare his disapproval. “I found them out terrorizing the birds. Again.”
“I was hunting,” they grumble. Then Varin swings their back legs, connecting with his face. Stunned, Lawrence drops them. They twist in the air and land on their feet, scurrying inside.
and Asmod joining Varin halfway down the hall, with Arinah scurrying after them. Then the four demons pass through a wall, disappearing in puffs of smoke—no doubt on their way to cause mischief.
Alaric clears his throat, and I press my mouth into a tight line, trying to hide my amusement.
Lawrence scowls and starts up the steps just as Oliver does. They stop when they realize neither plans to yield to the other.
Della shakes her head, pushing between them. She sweeps me up in a hug, then throws an admonishing look back at the men.
“Shall we wait in the drawing room while they figure out how to act civilized?” she asks loudly. She doesn’t give me a chance to respond before leading me inside.
Ms. Westfield did a beautiful job decorating the room with vases filled with bright flowers on almost every available surface. Black cloth covers the windows and mirrors. The grandfather clock has been stopped and covered as well.
Portraits of Rosalie, Mother and Father, Kitty, and Cassius, are in line atop an altar in the center of the room. In front of each is a single coin made of night-forged silver beside a long tallow candle that we light as the last ray of light fades from the sky. They will burn through the night, finally sputtering out at dawn.
After dinner, the five of us walk up the hill and sit around a small fire outside the mausoleum, sharing stories to keep their memories alive in our hearts. With each bottle of wine, we offer the first and last drink to the dead.
Between the laughter and tears, the hours slip by. The fire is nothing but embers among ash. Once the sky lightens with the first blush of day smearing across the horizon, we make our way back to the warmth of the manor to share a simple breakfast before our friends depart.
When Alaric and I are alone again, there is a hollow space of time that lingers, the quiet is broken only by the crackling flames in the hearth.
By the time we bathe and get ready for bed, and the sun’s glow gilds the edge of the windows, the world feels solid beneath our feet again.
We climb under the blankets and draw the bed curtains. Alaric reaches for me, warm hands sliding over my skin. Then he pulls me to him, our limbs tangling.
“There are times when I’m wonder if I am not still lost in the space between life and the Otherworld,” he whispers softly into the dark.
“This is real,” I say.
He presses his palm to the skin above my heart, fingers splayed as he feels for the steady rhythm of my heartbeat. “And you will still be here when I wake?”
“Yes,” I say. And then I kiss him to chase away any last sliver of doubt, to show him that this is real, that he is alive. That he is safe and loved, and to assure him the nightmares won’t last forever.
* * *
