Throwing my arm around her, I gently tug her against my chest. “She saved our son’s life.”
“It’s not fair,” she says over and over again.
I hold her tighter, needing her to know she’s not alone. I’m here for her like I should have been from day one.
I’m not sure how long we sit like this—her mourning the dead, me celebrating the living—but when the sun comes up, casting a beautiful orange light on the meadow, I lean down. “There’s something I have to tell you.”
She moves her head, facing me. Her tears have dried, but the pain is fresh and plenty.
When she looks at me like that—as if I were her savior and destroyer at the same time—I dread the outcome of this conversation. Amanda is smart enough to walk away from poison even if it’s as sweet as our love. She’s strong enough to remember all the hurt I put her through even when I offer her joy and happiness. But I’m neither strong nor brave enough to let her go.
Don’t be a pussy, Remington.
Manda narrows her eyes. “What’s going on, Alex?” She drinks me in, seeing beyond my skin into my soul. “I don’t like that terrifying gray around you.”
I force a smile. “Gray, huh? What does it mean?”
She sighs. “Means you’re scared as hell.”
That I am.
She shifts closer. “You’re scaring me, jerk-face.”
I laugh. “I missed that.”
She cocks a brow. “Scaring the living shit outta me, or your pet name?”
“Both,” I answer truthfully. There’s nothing I didn’t miss about her. Why the fuck is it so hard to tell her, though? Why am I such a coward when it comes to her?
Manda cups my face. “Seriously, what’s wrong?” I hate the trembling in her voice. It reminds me that even Amanda Bishop is vulnerable when I need her to be invincible.
Now or never, Remington.
“I’m sorry,” are the first words that come out of my mouth. Not exactly what I wanted but it’s a start. “I’m sorry I pushed you away. I’m sorry you thought I cared more about being a hunter than”—I look to Leandro—“my own son.”
Manda sighs. “Alex, you—”
“Wait,” I plead. “Let me finish?”
“All right.” She shrugs. “Go on.”
C’mon, you got this.
“I love you,” I whisper.
Her face is a blank page. Who scares the crap out of whom now?
Doesn’t matter. She needs to hear this even if she decides to walk away. I push through the terror clawing my gut. “When I found you in that alley, pinned against the wall by that bastard, I hated myself. I hated myself because all I could think of was doing the same damn thing to you. Pushing you against those bricks, hearing you moan my name…it’s all I wanted.” Her chest rises and falls rapidly. “You shocked and electrified me like no one else ever had. I didn’t stay because I thought you couldn’t handle yourself, Amanda. Fuck, I knew you could. But I also knew if I walked away, your eyes would have haunted me for the rest of my life.”
Her hands drop to her sides. “Alex, I—”
“Don’t, Manda.” I caress her cheek, memorizing every line. “I get it. We’re wrong for each other. Trust me, I’ve spent every single second since I forced you out of my life coming up with excuses why I shouldn’t love you. But—”
She yanks back. “Alex—”
“Tell me,” I say, holding her face firmly. “Did you ever feel that kind of attraction with anyone else?” I inch closer. “Did anyone ever hold you, and kiss you the way I do?” I whisper, our lips brushing.
“Alex—”
“I don’t care what you are because I know who you are.”
“Alex, I—”
“No one will ever love you like the way I do,” I promise her before I kiss her.
It could be the last time I ever feel her mouth on mine so I make it count, savoring her taste, the softness of her lips, her scent.
She doesn’t resist.
Her tongue finds mine, showing me just how much she missed me. I could die like this and I’d still be the luckiest bastard on earth.
The softness quickly gives way to the fire blazing in our hearts. Manda takes what she needs and I give her all I have.
“Alex.” She’s completely out of breath.
I can’t handle “goodbye,” but I have to accept her choice even if it kills me.
Resting my forehead against hers, I draw a deep breath. “Yeah?”
“I love you.”
She went to hell and back for me; I don’t question how she feels about me. “But will you stay?”
She gets up. I assume that’s a “no.”
“C’mon.” She extends her hand toward me. “There’s someone I’d like to introduce you to.”
We head back to the others. They sorta look like they just watched a soap opera and now the characters have climbed out of the TV.
Manda doesn’t care. She takes Leandro from B’s arms. “Alex”—she smiles at the kid—“this is Leandro.” She gives him to me. “Leandro, this is your dad.”
He runs his tiny hand down my face. “Dada.”
“Yeah,” I say. “I’m your dada.”
Jesse is next to me, inspecting his nephew closely. “Good thing he got his mom’s looks,” he teases me.
Leandro turns to Manda. “Mamama.”
She kisses his cheek. “And her fine taste in music,” she adds.
I lift him up. “Your mom’s music sucks.”
Manda cocks a brow. “Says the guy who tried to impress me with Led Zeppelin?”
“Hey, what did I tell about insulting Zeppelin?”
She rolls her eyes. “You’re unbelievable.”
I take her hand and pull her toward us. “Let’s go home.”
She frowns. “You don’t even have a home.”
“Sure,” I say, looking from her to Leandro. “It’s right here with you.” The rest we’ll figure out along the way.
Epilogue
Amanda
Bonnie bounds through the backdoor, fanning herself with some old newspapers. “Oh. My. Gosh.” She looks over my shoulder. “What’s Samantha Stephens doing here and where’s my best friend?”
I put the salad servers down, facing her with a frown. “You don’t think I actually made those, do you?”
She ogles the salads lined up on the kitchen counter. “Well, did you?”
“Of course not.” I roll my eyes, smirking. “I mean, what’s delivery for?”
B throws her head back and laughs. “Some things never change, huh?”
“Nope.” But others sure as hell do.
I gaze out the window. “Dude.” Jesse yanks the grilling fork out of Alex’s tight grip. “You’re ruining that yummy meat.”
Alex sighs. “Says the guy who doesn’t even know how to fry eggs.”
Jesse flashes his brother a wicked grin. “You and I both know you’re just jealous.”
Alex shakes his head. “How many times do I have to tell you Mom and Dad were only trying to be nice when they said you make the best steaks?”
“That is not—”
“Enough.” JJ disarms Jesse in a heartbeat, waving the fork like a sword. “You boys sit your asses down and let the real master handle this.”
Constantin laughs. “I like this girl.”
Raphael leans back in his chair. “You, brother, like all girls.”
Carter smirks. “Kind of like Jesse, huh?”
“Hey.” Jesse shoots him a look. “That’s—”
“Not for the ears of a child,” Mrs. Lacroix says, sitting Leandro onto the table.
B squeezes my shoulder, drawing my attention away from the odd formation in the backyard. “It’s weird, right?”
Seeing them all at one table? “Yeah.” Not too long ago, they would have killed each other. I guess an almost-apocalypse really does change people.
“So”—she pulls herself up on the counter—“how are you? And please, don’t bullshit
me.” Her warning puts a smile on my face. She knows me too damn well.
“I don’t know.” How is one supposed to feel after almost ending the whole damn world, dying, and being resurrected by the devil himself? Guilty? Rotten? Like a damn failure? A bit of everything.
B looks me deep in the eye. “Amanda, you know none of this was your fault, right?”
My gaze darts to Melinda’s picture sitting on Gram’s old cupboard. She always tried to teach me responsibility. You can’t just do whatever you want, Amanda. Actions have consequences and sometimes others pay the price. Others included over five dozen FBI agents, thousands of innocents injured or dead during the quake, the Blairs, the sheriff, and that poor woman who left a daughter behind. Oh yeah, and my own sister, of course. And why? Because I put my trust in magic when I should have trusted my damn heart.
“I can’t change the past,” I say, leaning against the counter. Their blood will forever be on my hands.
B flashes me a smile. “Would you really want to?” she asks, cocking a brow at Alex and Leandro. They’re playing in the grass. Baby-boy giggles like crazy when Alex makes funny faces.
“No.” I’m selfish, remember? And this—Alex and Leandro—is everything I ever wanted.
Jesse barges in, trying hard not to look in B’s direction. He fails, by the way. “Guys, what’s taking you so long?”
Out of the corner of my eye, I watch B tense. “Here.” I grab a salad bowl and push it against Little Remington’s chest. “Stop bitching and make yourself useful, will ya?”
He mutters something under his breath and marches back out to the others. B never takes her eyes off him.
I pour my best friend a shot of bourbon. “So you gonna tell me why your aura switches colors like a damn mood ring?” From red to gray in the matter of seconds.
“Seriously?” She pulls a face. “You’re reading me?”
I shrug. “It’s not like I have an off switch for it.” Even if I did, I wouldn’t use it. I recall the days I only saw rainbows when I looked at folks. I hated not being able to tell what they felt. It was as if I had lost a part of me.
“So?” I push.
“Nothing,” she replies too fast.
I study the pale pink glow around her, knowing she’s trying to sell me bullshit. “That nothing’s name is Jesse?”
“No,” she barks.
I laugh. “So that’s a ‘yes’ then.”
She downs the tasty booze. “Shut up.”
“Are you ever going to forgive him?” I hate the way they tiptoe around each other. Especially because my disappearance is what drove a damn wedge between them. Alex told me all about Jesse’s let’s-let-Manda-rot-in-hell stunt. Unlike B, I don’t blame him. He needed his brother saved. So did I.
She says nothing.
God, why does she have to be so stubborn? “What would you have done if the roles were reversed?”
She looks at me, confused. “What do you mean?”
“I mean would you have chosen Alex’s life over mine?”
“Of course not,” she hisses.
I smile. “Then why are you mad Jesse did the same?”
B jumps from the counter. “I’m not mad at him,” she says, throwing her curls over one shoulder. “I’m mad at myself. C’mon, what did I expect, right? He’s a guy. Guys can’t be trusted.”
This isn’t about Jesse and we both know it. B wasn’t always the screw ’em and leave ’em kinda girl. She dreamed of a white wedding and chariots when we were kids. It all changed the day Gabe, the oldest Lacroix sibling, was arrested for rape. “Look, I get it. What G—”
“We should get back to the others.” She jumps down from the counter, grabs two salad bowls, and rushes outside.
Wanna know what else the past taught me? You can’t outrun it, no matter how badly you want to. A lesson B has yet to learn.
Alex tickles Leandro. “Hey, B?”
“Huh?” she grumbles, still pissed I brought up her oldest brother.
“How’s the Nun doing?” he asks, as JJ snatches Leandro away from him. She’s sorta in love with our son. No kidding, the girl adores him. I can tell by the color of her aura—bright red.
B flings herself in a chair next to her mom. “She’s her usual annoying self.”
Looks like she got over her demonic possession rather quickly. “Want me to pay her a visit?” After Melinda’s death, I had to transfer to Salem State University so Leandro could grow up in the only home he ever knew, but I don’t mind driving to New York for a day.
“Nah.” B props her elbows on the table. “She still thinks you’re Satan’s bride.”
Alex circles my hip from behind. “She’s not that far off the grid.”
“You’re such a jerk.” I snort.
He pulls his brows up. “That’s not what you called me at night.” I fucking hate it when he’s that cocky.
“Please.” Jesse waves his hands. “Can you guys not talk about stuff like that when we’re about to eat?”
“Stuff like that?” I laugh. “You mean sex? Something you seem to love more than anything else?”
He blushes. “It’s just weird, okay?”
“Whatever,” Alex replies, chuckling.
“So did you think about my offer?” Carter changes the topic. He wants me to work as a consultant for the PAU.
I cast him a sidelong glance. “Thanks. But no thanks.” Every time the PAU gets involved, I end up dead. Granted, I made it back but there are only so many times one can cheat death.
Carter shrugs. “The offer stands.”
“And I appreciate it, but hunting is”—I kiss Alex on the cheek—“his gig.”
****
“Nothing Else Matters” by Metallica plays quietly in the background. It’s Leandro’s favorite lullaby. I’ve listened to this song about a million times, but never felt its lyrics the way I do when I look into those soft shamrock eyes, filled with love and happiness.
Leandro yawns like a tiger cub. Playing with a bunch of hunter slash witch aunts and uncles drained the little man.
I run my hand over his beautiful face. His rosy cheeks are softer than a feather, his brilliant purple aura as pure as his heart. “You’re safe and loved, baby boy.” I’m going to spend the rest of my life making sure of it.
The scent of lavender wafts through the air. Leandro gazes behind me, lifting his tiny arms, reaching for the ghost of the woman who raised him like her own.
“You see her, don’t you?” He’s blessed with more gifts than any witch child I’ve ever seen. He inherited my empathy, Melinda’s ability to see beyond the veil of the living into the land of the dead. And then, of course, there’s the green light bubble Alex told me about. The one that saved his life when the hunter tried to shoot him.
“Tell her I love her,” I whisper, kissing his forehead.
“Love,” he repeats after me, his eyelids slowly falling shut.
The door creaks open. Alex peeks inside. “Is he asleep?”
“Yeah.”
Alex comes closer, wearing nothing but a towel. His chest glitters; his hair is wet. He rests his chin on my shoulder, circling my hips and pulling me against him. “I love you,” he whispers. “Both.”
I never get used to hearing him say it. Alex isn’t the cheesy romantic type. He shows his love by being a jerk. But since the day in the meadow, he made it his life’s mission to tell us every single day what we mean to him. It will take me a while to allow myself to believe this is real, to find trust in his determination to be with us. But I’m working on it, daily.
“We love you, too,” I say, leaning my head back against his chest.
We just stand there, holding onto each other, while Leandro sleeps. We lost so much time with him neither of us wants to lose any more.
I tilt my head to the side, meeting his malachite eyes. “So what do parents do when the kids are asleep?” It’s been three months since that night in the meadow. Three months since Alex gave up his old life as a hunter. An
d three months since we moved into the Bishop residence—the house I never wanted to step foot in again. Yet all of this is new for us. We have no clue how to raise a kid, or how not to strangle each other. But hey, we’re trying. In the end, that’s all any of us can do.
A mischievous grin spreads across his perfect face. “I can think of a few things,” he says, tracing kisses down my neck.
I’d say each and every one of those few things have something to do with the hardness beneath his towel. “Sorry, jerk-face, you gotta be a bit more specific,” I moan, giving him more access to my neck.
He spins me around. One arm wrapped around my waist, he pulls me against him like he owns me. In a way, he does. Alexander “jerk-face” Remington owns my soul. I knew that before we even met. He was the reason I waited every Sunday outside my house. He was the one I spoke to when my mother locked me in the attic, thinking I was evil. And he was the one who barged into my life on a black steel horse to save me from myself.
His thumb slides across my bottom lip. “More specific, huh?” He cocks a brow. “I thought witches knew everything.”
“We do,” I assure him, claiming his mouth.
I take my time. Tasting every inch of him. Savoring the feel of his tongue gently massaging mine. I died believing I’d never get to feel his warmth again. I came back certain I’d treasure every kiss for the rest of my life.
Breathless, he pulls back. “I love you, Manda.” He places his strong hands on my butt, pulling me up. “And I’m going to spend the rest of my life proving it to you.”
His hardness presses against my jeans. He was right. No one ever made me feel the way he does. His eyes alone have the ability to melt the walls I’d built so carefully around my heart. “You better start right now,” I whisper, running my fingers through his wet hair. “We witches aren’t exactly known for our patience.”
A deep chuckle roars through the room. “No,” he says, carrying me out of Leandro’s room back to ours. “I guess you’re not.”
We make it to the bed. He lays me down and slowly undresses me. I feel his lips everywhere—my neck, my stomach, my breasts. He takes his sweet time torturing me with a love I never thought I was worthy of.
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