“How does she seem? Mentally, I mean?” He thought it was a logical, not to mention, safe question.
“Shaky at best. She says her mind is broken, that it’s hard to focus, there’s a lot of...noise....or something sparking around in her head. But I think she’ll keep getting better. At least she’s her again, you know? But older. Wiser. And wounded, very wounded now.”
“I’m glad you got her back,” he said.
“I might not have, if it hadn’t been for you.”
He shrugged, trying to stay focused on piloting the boat. Emma leaned over, though, sliding her hand over his on the speed control lever and moving it backward, slowing them down. Then she left it there.
“You kept your promise to me,” she said. “I owe you for that. You helped me get my father back. You saved my mother’s life. You rescued me from DPI. You, the vampire who doesn’t like humans, doesn’t like to put himself out for anyone. The guy who says he only looks out for himself. You’ve changed, Devlin.”
He shook his head. “I haven’t changed. And you’d have found your mother anyway. Tavia showed me your research. You know more about our kind than I do.”
“You saw my research?” she asked.
He nodded. “I talked to Tavia about your blog, your plan to write a book. Your reasons for it. She was coming around, even before you saved her life.”
She nodded. “I have to admit, I wondered if her attitude toward me was that, or something else.”
“What else would it be?”
Emma lifted one shoulder in a semi-shrug. “I thought she might want you for herself, despite what she told me earlier. And I thought that, being an intelligent woman, she could see that was never going to happen.”
A chill moved down Devlin’s spine. His brain was telling him not to ask. Change the subject, red alert, make the next legal U-turn. But his mouth said, “Why’s that?”
“Because you’re meant for me, Devlin. You’re my soulmate. You’re the man I love, and you know darn well you love me back.”
He stared at her, opened his mouth to deny it, but no words came.
“I know you’re planning to send me away. But you can save your breath, because I’m not leaving. I won’t go. I belong with you.”
His throat tried to swell shut. He swallowed hard and said, “People who stay with me get hurt, Emma.”
“Your wife and your baby did. That’s true. You should discuss that with my father, by the way. He’s such a philosopher, I know he could offer you some comfort about that.”
“What would he tell me? What could he possibly tell me that would make it all right?”
She reached past him to turn the key, cutting the engine completely. “He would probably say that no one ever dies before their time. He would probably say that if they had been meant to live longer, they would have, and that their higher power had everything well in hand, and that they are blissful and complete and happy right now. He might even say that the only thing detracting from their joy on the other side is seeing you here being miserable on their behalf. He would say that your misery is the only pain they still feel. And that if you want to make them happy, you have to let go of your grief and allow yourself to be happy again too.”
Her words, spoken very softly, and very slowly, washed over his mind like a soothing, cooling balm, calming the storm of confusion he’d been experiencing. And more than that, they rang true. Maybe because they were sitting on a still, blue ocean beneath a sky full of stars that seemed endless. That was endless. Or maybe just because she was the one saying them.
Devlin swallowed hard and said, “What I told you before was true. My life, since they died, even before they died, has been nothing but hate and intolerance, violence and betrayal. I don’t think I’d know love if it was staring me in the face.”
She pressed her hands to his cheeks, turned him to face her. “It is.”
He blinked. Emotions were welling up in him, and he didn’t think the dam he’d built so long ago, was going to hold them back much longer. “I’m not sure I know how to love anymore.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll show you.”
He still hesitated, and she rushed right on. “You have two choices, Devlin. You can spend your life miserable and alone, or you can spend it in bliss, loving me and being loved by me. Your wife and baby boy are rooting for choice number two. And so am I.”
He turned completely in his seat, stared into her brown eyes. “And if I tell you I choose to stay miserable and alone?”
She reached for him, curling a hand around his neck, her fingertips dancing over his nape and into his hair. “It’s gonna be really hard to be miserable and alone with me wrapped around you like a spider monkey every waking minute. But you’re welcome to give it a shot.”
She leaned in and pressed her lips to his. And he thought maybe he could try this her way, try letting go of his grief and anger and his deepest fears just for a minute or two, and see what it felt like.
He kissed her back, focusing on the taste of her mouth, on the sensations rising up in his body as she slid over him, straddling his thighs, and settling onto his lap. He let his mind relax into her, let his feelings for her take him over. He let go of his determination not to feel anything for her. And the second he did, it seemed he felt everything for her. The emotion that swept over him was a tsunami, and he was pretty sure its name was Love.
It felt good. He felt good. For the first time in a very long time.
Backing off just enough to stare into her eyes, which were pooling with love too potent to doubt, he whispered, “You learned some magic from Rhiannon, didn’t you?”
“Nah,” she whispered. “This magic is just between you and me, Dev. And it’s way too powerful to resist.”
“Then I guess I might as well stop trying.”
She smiled and his heart glowed. He could feel his deepest wounds healing over, just the way Tara’s had done under little Gareth’s healing hands. It was real, and it was happening.
“By God, Emma, you’re right. I’m in love with you.”
“Yeah,” she said, smiling. “You are.” She was still smiling as she kissed him again.
Epilogue
Sheena stood knee-deep in the Pacific, looking at the ocean and focusing her power. Everyone stood around watching, waiting. Sheena seemed nervous, but Emma thought she would make this work. When she was ready, Sheena lifted her arms slowly from her sides, raising them higher, very slowly, and then drawing her hands inward. She repeated the motion, again and again. Her eyes were closed, so she couldn’t see what everyone else saw—the thin wisps of mist beginning to spiral upward from the surface of the water, then more of them, twisting across the waves from further away, like eager spirits racing to the island. They came from all directions
Sheena moved slowly, and the mists met each other, forming a larger body that was thicker, denser, taller. Swirling and rising, they became a thick fog, a massive cloud. Soon the island was so enveloped in mist that it seemed not to even be there.
When Sheena finally opened her eyes again, the vampires applauded, clapping her on the back, hugging and thanking her while the fog swirled around and between them.
Sheena smiled, accepting it all, her eyes often on her brother, who stood nearby, stoic and silent.
Emma snuggled closer into the crook of Devlin’s arm. “Now we’re safe. Our island is cloaked, and no one knows we’re here. Andrew won’t dare mess with us again. You can build your resistance just as you intended. And I will build it right by your side.”
He looked down at her. “Actually, I’ve got a new idea. I want your opinion first, before we put it to the others.”
She lifted her brows. “A new idea?”
He nodded.
“Besides building a resistance to go to war against mankind?”
Again, he nodded.
“Well, tell me already. I’m dying here.”
He smiled. She loved when he smiled, because these days, when he did, it was a rea
l smile. It reached all the way up to his eyes and all the way down to his soul.
“I want us to train small, skilled groups to rescue people from DPI captivity and bring them back here to rehabilitate and heal. I want this place to be a haven for them.”
“For people like my mother,” she said softly.
He nodded. “But not just vampires. For others. Those like the Offspring. And the shifters we set free. And whoever or whatever is still being held at The Sentinel on sub-level four. In fact, I want them to be our first mission.”
Emma tilted her head to one side, studying his face in absolute wonder.
“What do you think?” he asked.
“I think you’re the best man I’ve ever known.”
He lowered his head as if embarrassed. “I’m a better man with you than I ever was without you. I really do love you, Emma.”
“Lucky for you. It would suck being stuck with me for eternity otherwise. And there’s no way I’m ever letting you go.”
“In other words, you love me too,” he said.
“Oh, yeah. I love you, too, Devlin. I love you like the ocean loves the sky.”
“That’s good,” he said. “You should write that down.”
She reached for him, clasping the front of his shirt, tugging him across the beach and into the seclusion of the woods, and she whispered, “I will. Later. Much, much, later.”
And then she smiled, and he was putty in her hands.
Epilogue Two
At DPI headquarters in White Plains, New York, Colonel Matthias Stanton sat in front of a bank of computer screens and watched one of them, where a flashing yellow light blinked on a map of the United States.
Dr. Bouchard stood behind him, looking at the monitor over his shoulder. “It’s working, just as I told you it would. The implant is doing its job. It was smart, letting them go.”
“We didn’t have to let them all go,” Stanton said.
“We couldn’t risk our men hitting the wrong one. A vampire is a vampire, as far as the snipers are concerned. We had to tell them to miss. As for the escape of the shifters, well, we just couldn’t have planned for that contingency.”
“This program of yours better be worth it, Bouchard.”
“Oh, it will be. And now we truly have a weapon we can use against the Undead.”
“Two weapons,” he said, correcting her and shifting his gaze to another monitor.
This one showed a seven-year-old girl with shock white hair that was long and straight, and violet eyes so pale they sometimes seemed pink.
-The End-
Continue reading for an excerpt from the next installment of Wings in the Night: Reborn,
The Rhiannon Chronicles.
* * *
The Rhiannon Chronicles: Entry 1
I stood on the deck of the ship we’d stolen from the US government, the sea wind rinsing my hair with the scents of every creature she held in her briny womb. If they found us, they would, as my young friend Charlotte put it, “blow us out of the water.” And they wouldn’t care about destroying the seven hybrid children who were still onboard. That was her opinion, at least. I rather thought they would try to take those walking, talking little experiments alive. They were, after all, bred and trained to be weapons. Vampire killers.
I could only hold the glamour I’d cast for so long. I had to rest. And my attention was divided, to say the least, by the little ones that had been known as the Offspring.
One in particular.
Sooner or later, the government’s secret anti-vampire troops would find us. We had to get the children off this ship.
And yet right then, at that moment. We were safe. The night was beautiful. And I was in the arms of the man I loved beyond reason. My Roland.
“If it can’t be Egypt, my love, then it must be the rocky coast of Maine. I’ll have it no other way," I told him.
Roland crooked a dark brow at me as if I’d grown a second head. Momentarily, that distracted me from our dire situation. He was so incredibly beautiful, standing there with the silent night sky, glittering stars, and ancient rolling ocean as his backdrop. He had the strong jawline and proud nose of nobility, the cheekbones and full, sensual lips of a leading man, with a deeper than usual dip in the center of the top one. I had a hard time keeping my own mouth away from that sexy upper lip of his. Further, he had the body of a god and the piercing, hypnotic dark eyes of a vampire–for that’s exactly what he was. As was I.
He sensed the arousal in my blood, I knew he did, because he smiled very slightly, and his eyes sparked. Then, knowing he had me at a disadvantage, he tried his ever present logic on me.
“Rhiannon,” he said, “We are in the northern Pacific Ocean. Pacific. Not Atlantic.”
“The Pacific and I do not get along," I said. "She’s full of predators who make our kind seem mild by comparison, one of whom took your leg, lest you forget.”
“Not bloody likely to forget that,” he said with a resigned look down at the ingenious mechanical prosthetic the vampire Killian had made for him, all from items found aboard the Anemone.
I touched his arm, sorry to have brought it up. We still didn’t know if his leg would grow back. Our kind regenerate and heal during the day sleep. But I’d never known of a vampire with an injury this severe who survived long enough to make it to his bed. If Roland’s limb was going to grow back, we’d seen no sign of it yet.
I dragged my fingertips over his cheek, down his corded neck and across his chest to distract him from his pain. “I far prefer the rocky cliffs of the northeastern coast. There’s an entirely different energy to the Atlantic. She feels younger, friskier, lighter somehow. She has a restlessness about her, a vibrant, feisty eagerness.”
“Does she now?” I nodded, and he gazed at me with love in his eyes, amused, I thought, by my uncharacteristic whimsy. “And what personality do you attribute to the Pacific? Besides her children’s hunger for vampire limbs?”
That he could joke about his loss made me love him even more. I’d been finding reasons to love him more for century upon century. I used to think my love for this man would reach its maximum at some point. But I’d come to believe it was capable of growing infinitely. Every day, somehow, it was more.
He was awaiting my reply–not impatient, only eager–standing directly behind me, and I was enjoying our moment on the midnight sea. After all, they hadn’t found us yet.
I leaned on the ship’s rail and looked out across the massive swells, rising and falling like the lungs of a giant, slowly, with an ancient and timeless rhythm. “The Pacific is older, deeper, calmer, perhaps even wiser. But deadlier, too. She holds immense power, and secrets–unfathomable secrets.”
“She’s like you, then,” Roland said softly, his arm curling around my waist to pull me closer. “How can you not love her? How could anyone?”
I turned in his embrace to welcome his kiss, and thought again of the miracle that was our love.
As he lifted his head, his eyes as alight as the stars above us, he said, “Short of heading southward all the way to the Panama Canal, I don’t see how we can–”
I pushed at his chest, cutting him off as he stumbled a little. “You can’t sweet talk me out of this, Roland. I’m tired of being at sea. We are not safe on this stolen ship, and I’m not even certain that the Glamourie can hide us from our persecutors with their radar and sonar and whatever else they’re using to search for us. I want a safe place, a haven where we can...settle down.”
He blinked precisely twice, and then his entire being softened. “I never thought in all the centuries we’ve been together, I would hear you say you’d like to settle down.”
I lowered my head, embarrassed I suppose, at my own weakness. I didn’t have many. In fact, until recently, Roland had been the only one. “Not forever, of course. Just for a short while. A dozen years, perhaps fifteen. Just until Nikki is grown.” I looked past him, then, at the seven children playing on the deck. “She’s never had a home, Rolan
d. Never had a family, nor any of the things children need in order to thrive. None of them have.”
He turned, looking at them as well. We’d found thirteen children in kennel-like cages below decks when we’d taken control of the so-called research vessel Anemone. According to the files we’d found, the Offspring had been produced in four batches. The oldest batch included just two– a girl and a boy, both seventeen years old–but they were no longer with us. The second batch were all eleven years of age, and there were four of those, two boys and two girls. Next, there were the seven-year-olds, two boys and a little girl who had stolen my heart after nearly killing me. I’d named her Nikki.
There had been four more, just two years of age, mere babes, but they too, were gone.
It had not escaped my notice that each group of children included equal numbers of males and females, likely siblings. Which meant my Nikki probably had a twin sister who had not survived. And that thought infuriated me.
When we’d taken this ship, we’d also found nearly a hundred vampires, half-starved and locked up in cells. They’d been captives, used to train the killer children. Most of them had left the ship by now. Every time we dared venture near enough to shore, another group would take to the water, to make their own way. Seth and Reaper, dear friends of mine, left to seek their mates, who had been captured as well, but taken to a different location. Devlin and his dwindling gang had headed out to a private island to take refuge and begin to build what Devlin referred to as “the resistance.” We were not at war with mankind, exactly. But there were elements among them who were determined to wipe us out of existence, and Devlin intended to fight back.
When he left, the two eldest of The Offspring had jumped into the sea after him. I’d had time to shout a mental warning, but we’d been spotted and had to flee. Dev said he would go back for the two. And it kills me that I don’t know whether he managed to save them or not.
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