He said nothing, but I knew that he was listening to every word. For the first time ever, it felt like he really heard me.
‘Maybe later,’ I continued, trying to make it better. ‘We have plenty of time.’
‘We could meet here,’ he said. His expression was wistful, and he looked younger than he had since Nicole’s death. ‘You could sketch the boats.’
‘Bring a book to read,’ I replied, smiling through my own tears. ‘You know I don’t like to talk when I’m drawing.’
He touched my face and stared at me for a very long time.
I listened to the water, wondering what I would do if he said no. Would I fight him? ‘Theo,’ I pleaded, finally breaking the silence. ‘What will it take for you to—?’
‘Life is for living,’ he said, interrupting me. ‘Go.’
‘You’re serious?’ My legs felt like jelly and I knew that if I attempted to stand at that moment, I would fall right down again. ‘Do you mean it?’
He closed his eyes. ‘Goodbye, my Moth.’
The tears were flowing freely down my face now, and I stumbled to my feet before I could change my mind.
I finally did it: I walked away from him.
And, just like that, he let me go.
Epilogue
Vampire Cinderella
The following week, I was all moved in. Back in the O’Neal house with my sisters.
Home.
Caitlín called up the stairs to me, delight in her voice. ‘He’s here!’ She’d been waiting at the window for the past twenty minutes, and no amount of pleading on my part would make her stop. She was dying to catch her first glimpse of him.
My supersonic ears picked up the sound of a car engine. Crap. I sped around my room, still trying to decide whether I should change my clothes. Again. Sue me for being girly. I was running late, which only made me more stressed. But surely Jace was early – wasn’t he?
I checked the time. Nope. It really was just me who was late.
‘Are you ready?’ Cait yelled.
‘I’ll be two minutes!’ I shouted back, panicking about what I looked like. Having second thoughts about this stupid dress. About the whole stupid date.
Caitlín had helped me to get ready, relishing the idea of making me look as feminine as possible. ‘Do you want me to get some barrettes?’ she had asked, totally serious, all the while bouncing up and down. ‘I have silver ones.’ She had, quite literally, been dancing around me. This was fun for her, dammit. ‘They’d look super-cute in your hair,’ she said.
‘No,’ I had replied, feeling genuinely horrified. ‘That’s just going too far.’
When Jace’s car arrived, she thundered up the stairs and stuck her head around the door of my room. ‘What are you doing in there?’ she grouched. ‘You’re taking forever.’
‘Don’t talk to me about forever, kid,’ I said, putting on a Dirk Bogart voice. ‘We’ll be here all day.’
Caitlín cracked up. And then she had to ruin it all by crying.
‘Oh my God, what?’ I hugged her. ‘I’ll wear the barrettes if you’ll stop crying. What is it, Cait?’
‘You just look so beautiful,’ she said. ‘You really, really do.’
‘That’s why you’re crying?’
Caitlín sniffed loudly and wiped her eyes, staring at me with a quivering smile on her lips. ‘You look just like Mom.’
My mouth dropped open, and then I closed it again because there wasn’t a whole lot I could really say to that. Even the blank space of the mirror didn’t matter – not in that moment, anyway. Maybe I’d been right about my little sister being all the mirror I needed.
Now here we were, and Jace had arrived and I still wasn’t ready.
‘I can send him up,’ she said, and she wasn’t asking a question. I didn’t bother to reply because Caitlín would do whatever she wanted.
Seconds later there was a tap at the door.
‘Moth?’
He was standing outside my bedroom, in my parents’ house. I froze in the center of the room, like a rabbit caught in very bright and deadly headlights. Prey.
I didn’t say anything; couldn’t say anything.
Jace was still waiting, separated by a blue-painted door. A door that I still hadn’t opened.
‘I’ll just wait downstairs,’ he called, sounding confused, and I heard his footsteps begin to descend.
‘Wait!’ I zipped to the door and opened it fast enough to create a miniature whirlwind. ‘Oops.’
Jace was still at the top of the stairs, jostling for space with Oscar, the family dog, who’d followed him up to see what was going on. There was a minor scuffle as we all waited to see who would emerge victorious, and I suppressed a smile as Oscar slipped through Jace’s legs and flew into my room.
‘Sit!’ I commanded, turning my attention to my dog. He seemed happy to have me home, but that didn’t mean he was any more likely to actually listen to me. He wagged his tail and grinned a doggy sort of grin, then jumped onto my bed. I sighed and turned back to my human visitor.
Jace’s eyes were a little wide as he hovered in the doorway, and he looked as nervous as I felt. To be honest, he didn’t smell all that anxious, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t. Right? In fact, now that I thought about it, he smelled freaking delicious – and for once I didn’t mean that in a weird I-want-to-eat-you kind of way. He had aftershave on, and the scent filled the small landing at the top of the stairs, making my toes curl.
I’d rarely seen him in anything other than jeans and that (now-deceased) army jacket. He usually had some kind of weapon in his hand. Tonight, Jace was wearing a black suit – although he was carrying the jacket – with a slightly creased white shirt and a skinny black tie. His hair, usually a spiky mess, was gelled and his brown eyes looked almost black in the near-darkness. He had a tiny scar through his left eyebrow – no silver ring, thanks to his rough treatment at the Facility. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up and I could see the larger, jagged scar on his wrist.
My whole body tightened and we gazed at one another. He looked me over from head to toe, and his cheeks grew a little flushed.
I wondered where he’d hidden his knife. Or his gun. Maybe he’d left them in the car with his crossbow. I rolled my eyes. Only I could fall for a vampire hunter. Retired vampire hunter, I reminded myself.
Jace was staring at me with open admiration. I was wearing The Dress. You know, the dress that Caitlín had made me buy before all this started. I’d sold out and become Vampire Cinderella for one night only. In spite of my mild self-disgust, I had to admit that the dress was pretty cool. It was a short silver tunic that hit me just above the knee, and it consisted of hundreds of over-sized silver sequins. It was tricky for me to get the overall picture, what with the whole mirror challenge, but I figured I might look a bit like a fish. You know, with shimmering scales. Cait had assured me that it was meant to look more like armor. Sort of like chainmail. I wasn’t convinced, but had to take her word for it.
So, I was wearing The Dress with black pumps. Flat pumps, but still . . . actual Girl’s Shoes. Every time I looked down I could see them, right there on my feet. My white ankles looked super-skinny and I’d almost forgotten what they looked like.
‘Jace,’ I said, sounding strangely breathless. ‘I’m sorry I’m running late. I couldn’t decide what to wear, and then I put this on and I wasn’t sure. And then I couldn’t see what it looked like and then I thought maybe I’m too dressy, you know? So I changed, but I only got halfway through changing before I figured I might as well wear it, and now I can see that you’ve dressed up too, so that’s good. But maybe I should—’
‘Shut up, freak,’ he said, smiling at me and striding into my room without an invitation.
He took a good look around while I just watched him, not sure what to do with myself. I clutched my hands in front of me and waited for him to say or do something.
‘You worry too much,’ he said, closing the distance between us and leaning do
wn so that I got a strong whiff of that super-gorgeous scent he was wearing. He brushed his lips against my cheek.
I swallowed hunger and desire. I tentatively opened the door to hope.
Thinking of ‘hope’, I touched his arm. ‘How’s . . . your sister?’ Whoa. Just saying it made it all seem real.
His expression was pained. ‘Does just saying the word “sister” sound as weird to you as it does to me?’
I laughed with relief. ‘Always. How’s it going?’
‘It’s . . . different.’
I poked him in the chest. ‘Different? That’s all you have to say about your fairy-tale family reunion?’
‘Honestly? It’s probably about as much of a fairy tale as yours is, living back here.’ He gave me a wicked grin. ‘But we can make it work. I want to help her, and she has nobody else.’
‘You will make it work,’ I said, thinking about Sinéad. I still hadn’t figured out how I was going to tell her the truth. About me, I mean. ‘We both will.’
All in good time.
He offered me his hand and led me to the door. A hand I was more than happy to accept. A new future was slowly taking shape in my heart. I guess you just can’t take the optimism out of the girl, even after everything that had happened to me. I smiled to myself as I thought about silver linings. And second chances.
‘You look pretty,’ he said.
‘So do you,’ I replied, sounding like a total moron.
His lips quirked. ‘Pretty? Well, shucks. Thanks. I think.’
I rolled my eyes and the spell was broken. ‘I mean, you look good.’ His smile widened into something over-confident. Time for some revenge: ‘Good enough to eat.’
His grin faltered, but there was still a twinkle in his eyes. ‘Really? Maybe we’ll see about that later.’
My mouth watered. Jesus, I was pathetic. But something had changed since I’d fed from him. I felt the shift between us, and I wondered if he did too. I mean, he definitely felt it while we were escaping from the Facility, but maybe the effects had worn off by now. I hoped not. I liked feeling closer to him.
And talking of feeling closer . . . ‘Wait a minute,’ I said. ‘I have something for you.’
‘Gifts already?’ His tone said he was joking, but I could tell by his eyes that he was pleased. ‘Hey, sorry. I didn’t bring you anything.’
Yes, you did, I thought. You brought yourself. ‘It’s cool,’ I said. ‘Don’t worry, I didn’t buy it or anything.’
‘You stole it?’ He grinned. ‘This date is starting out great. I’m not sure we’ll be able to keep the level up, you know?’
‘Oh, I’m sure we’ll manage.’
I was flirting with him! Actually flirting, and it felt good. And I felt so truly happy I thought I might explode. Now I had to go and ruin it all with the so-called gift, but I figured it was long past time I gave it to him.
‘Here,’ I said, placing the framed photograph in his hands. ‘Don’t drop it.’ I felt sick with anxiety, because of course it was the picture I’d taken from Quinn’s files. The Murdoch family all together, including Hope as a rather large baby bump.
Jace tensed, staring at the image for what seemed an eternity.
‘Is it OK?’ I asked. He’d gone so pale I was genuinely starting to panic. ‘I’m sorry if I did the wrong thing. I should have told you about it before now, but you know how crazy things were and I was just afraid that you’d be angry. I thought you might like it too, but then I got scared and . . .’
My voice trailed off as he turned away from me, gently placing the frame on the bed. His shoulders were tight, and for a horrible moment I thought he was crying. But then he looked at me again, and although his eyes were undeniably shiny, he was smiling. Oh, thank God.
He put his arms around me, holding me so tight it almost hurt. Not that I cared. ‘Foolish woman,’ he said, with a slight catch in his voice. ‘How could you think I wouldn’t like that?’
‘I don’t know.’ I snuggled against him.
‘Thank you.’
‘You’re welcome. I’m just relieved that I didn’t mess everything up.’
Jace pulled back, still holding my shoulders. ‘That is honestly the best gift anyone has ever given me. I can’t wait to show Hope.’
‘What’s she doing tonight?’ I didn’t really want to talk about her anymore, but I figured I’d better ask.
‘Right now, she’s working her way through the entire Buffy box set you let her borrow.’ He grinned. ‘I’d say she’s doing well enough.’
I rolled my eyes. Why had I done a stupid thing like that? I didn’t want to give her any fancy vampire-slaying ideas.
Jace followed me downstairs. I touched the framed photo of Mom and Dad on my way to the front door and tried to remember that my father had, once upon a time, been a better man. His dedicated service to the people of Boston: almost thirty years on the job with the BPD, wasn’t an easy thing to ignore. From everything I’d heard at last week’s funeral, he’d been a good cop – at least until the drink began to take over. He had adored our mother. ‘Love’ was too small a word for how he’d felt about her, the way he’d treated her like a princess every day they were together. He had taken care of us all for many years, and even after Mom’s death he had continued to shower my oh-so-wise baby sister with love.
That had to count for something. Maybe even a lot.
We hovered in the hallway as Oscar danced at our feet, making me laugh.
‘I think you’re wanted over there,’ Jace said, nodding in the direction of the kitchen, where I could clearly see Caitlín making a horrifically indiscreet double-thumbs up in our direction. She was also winking and grinning like a maniac. Oh, and mouthing, Holy-crap-he’s-smoking-hot, but by then I’d lost the will to live.
I buried my face in my hands and hoped that I’d imagined the whole thing. I could only be grateful that Sinéad was out on a date of her own – she’d had a boyfriend for several months, and I hadn’t even known.
Jace chuckled as we left the house. He was enjoying this way too much. Well, let him have his fun; I’d get him back later.
He opened the passenger door for me. ‘My lady,’ he said, sweeping me a low bow.
I grinned. ‘Shut up.’
‘You love it,’ he said. ‘Don’t even pretend that you don’t.’
‘I could probably rip the whole door off its hinges without breaking a sweat. It sort of ruins the whole illusion of being a “lady”,’ I muttered, not meeting his eyes.
‘I dunno,’ Jace said, as we pulled away from my new/old home. ‘I think it’s sexy.’
‘That I’m stronger than you?’ I raised my eyebrows, challenging him.
‘Sure,’ he said easily. ‘I love strong women.’
I chewed that over for a moment. ‘You think I’m strong?’
He glanced over at me, before putting his eyes back on the road. ‘Marie,’ he said, ‘you’re the strongest person I know.’
I allowed myself a small smile, reveling in the sound of my true name on his lips. Somehow it was OK that he should call me that now.
‘Yeah,’ I said, ‘I guess I am.’
‘In all ways,’ he continued. ‘In every way that counts.’
‘I know,’ I said. And I really did know. For the first time in a very long time, I believed in my own strength. Not just in the physical strength that my vampirism gave me, but in my inner strength. The determination to do what was right, no matter how hard it often was. The strength to endure. An image of Theo jumped into my mind and my throat tightened, but I didn’t let that spoil my happiness. He’d be OK. We both would.
And anyway, this moment was mine. I was on a date! A real, actual date. I wanted to enjoy it.
Jace flashed me a quick smile. ‘Now quit digging for compliments and let’s get this show on the road.’
‘Where are we going?’ I asked, not really expecting him to tell me. It was supposed to be a surprise; he’d been very definite about that. ‘Any clues?’<
br />
But once again Jace surprised me. ‘Wherever you want to go,’ he said, a quiet sort of satisfaction in his voice.
‘I thought you were deciding for us.’
‘It’s a man’s prerogative to change his mind,’ he replied. ‘Now, go on. Choose. Where do you want to go?’
‘Anywhere?’
‘Anywhere at all.’ He paused. ‘Well, so long as it’s in Boston.’
I laughed and rested my head back against the seat, suddenly filled with a wild sort of excitement that made me remember what it was to be human. Who needed a cure?
Anywhere I wanted to go, Jace had said. I thought about that, allowing the idea to sink into my bones. Being able to choose my own destiny would be . . . nice. Maybe I could get used to it. I may not be able to change what I am, but I can certainly change what I become. Moths are experts when it comes to transformation, after all.
And life is for living, even when you’re not exactly alive.
About the Author
Karen Mahoney has been a professional Tarot reader, a college counsellor, a dating agency consultant, and bookseller and a webmistress. She is now a full-time writer and her first novel, The Iron Witch, was published in 2011. She has a highly trafficked blog where she talks about everything from writing books to her lifelong love of Wonder Woman.
Visit Karen online at www.kazmahoney.com
Also by Karen Mahoney
THE IRON WITCH TRILOGY
The Iron Witch
The Wood Queen
The Stone Demon
THE MOTH SERIES
Moth
Falling to Ash
HUNTING THE DARK
AN RHCP DIGITAL EBOOK 978 1 446 48020 5
Published in Great Britain by RHCP Digital,
an imprint of Random House Children’s Publishers UK
A Penguin Random House Company
This ebook edition published 2015
Copyright © Karen Mahoney, 2015
Hunting the Dark Page 27