by S. K. Ryder
Her tears flowed free and silent.
“Everything is as it must be,” he said slowly. “Including this moment in which we must part for good.” A thin sorrow vibrated in his heart, but faded when he began to see Francesca Marchant for what she truly was to him now.
Another ghost.
He forced a smile to soften the words. “I love you, Maman. But there is no place for me in your life anymore. And no place for you in mine. We remind each other too much of everything we have lost. Do we not?”
She gave the smallest of nods.
“With your permission, I can make it so that I am dead to you again. You will remember nothing of what happened here.”
Francesca glanced at the bag. “But she will still be gone.”
“Oui. She will. But you will remember a different reason.” Though what he could concoct that would explain a woman who said she was going to France for a funeral turning up in ashes in Canada escaped him at the moment.
“Non. I do not permit it.” The contempt was back, harsher than ever. “Do not touch me with your evil magic. I want to remember the truth. Either way, my son is as dead to me as the rest of my family.”
“You can’t mean that, Francesca,” Cassidy said, heartbreak in her face.
Garrett shook his head, but remained silent.
“She means it,” Dominic confirmed. His mother was not one for thoughtless decisions. And she never changed her mind.
Francesca glared at him. “Get out. I can’t stand the sight of you.”
Dominic pursed his lips and verged on turning himself, Cassidy and Garrett invisible on the spot. But he decided against it. He wasn’t about to be that accommodating in providing further proof of his ‘evil magic.’ Let her last memory of her son, the Lord of Night, be as human as possible.
Cassidy came to his side. He put an arm around her shoulder, felt her shake with suppressed emotion, and pressed a kiss to her temple. White hot heat radiated off her. More than her body, it was her spirit that enveloped him in life and love and light, banishing all the ghosts from his awareness.
Including his mother.
Do we have a place to go? he wondered.
Yes. I took another room for us. She expected to share this one with Genevie tonight.
And so she will, Dominic thought with a last look at the bag. He bid his sister a silent farewell and left the ghosts to wail in the past.
Chapter 39
Forever
Six months later . . .
“You look delicious,” whispered the Lord of Night in a husky voice that sent goosebumps of delight racing over Cassidy’s skin.
She graced him with her most seductive smile. “You like the new dress, do you?” The style was her favorite off-one-shoulder design that hugged her torso and waist and caressed her legs in graceful drapes of blue and green.
Dominic’s hazel eyes danced with mischief. “What dress?”
Amazing how he could still make her blush, still stir her like this, even with their minds so intimately joined. They had renewed their precious bond only last night and were as close to being one soul in two bodies as ever.
When he held out his hands, she took them and tipped up her face for a deep, achingly tender kiss. The love behind it wrapped around her as his arms would have if he wasn’t mindful of where such an embrace would lead—and just how much time she had spent on getting her hair into that particular up-do confection.
They separated with a sigh, their lips clinging for a little longer before Cassidy stepped back and gave him an appraising look. He struck a pose, modeling the suit and dress shirt like the sultry GQ cover model he resembled. No tie, collar rakishly undone, eyes burning beneath the dark slashes of his brows. He had cut his hair on the sides and back, adding an air of sophistication. But that thick, rebellious thatch of ebony was still there, usually falling over his forehead, though at the moment tamed into submission in honor of the occasion.
“Well, if the maid of honor looks delicious, the best man is downright scrumptious,” she purred and took hold of his offered arm. Dominic winked at her. Together they emerged onto the second floor landing overlooking the foyer and living room.
The place was an unrecognizable hive of activity. Early guests milled around, sipping drinks. The catering staff circulated among them, carrying platters heaped with hors d’oeuvres. Heady aromas of roasting meats, strong alcohol, and sweet perfumes drifted in the air.
Most amazing of all, not all the guests were human.
A handful of vampires were in attendance—some on purpose, others random visitors in residence—and they were not skulking the shadows for unsuspecting prey. Isao and his younglings saw to that. Cassidy spotted Garrett having a stern word with one of the immortal houseguests who acted a little too interested in a plunging neckline. The vampires carried untouched beverages or sipped goblets of sparkling water as they chatted with the human guests who seemed to find them fascinating conversationalists.
Cassidy heaved a deep, happy sigh as she soaked up the laughter and life that bounced off the walls, filled the house, and drowned out the upbeat New Age tunes streaming in the background. So many people under their roof, enjoying themselves, humming with happy anticipation, celebrating love. Dominic would be punch drunk on it all before the night was through and she right along with him.
Only a tiny frisson of regret scratched at her heart as they descended the stairs. “Aubrey would have loved this.”
“Oui. He would. Francesca, too,” he added after a pause. His mother had sent her regrets from her new home in Provence. On her way from Canada, she had stopped on St. Barth just long enough to pack up her life and ship it to France. She signed the restaurant over to Étienne the morning she boarded a flight to Paris. Never, she swore, would she set foot back in the Caribbean or the Americas. Her life there was over, all the people in it dead. Her only grandchild, Genevie’s daughter, would be welcome to visit when she was old enough, but that was all.
No one pointed out that plenty of vampires lived in Europe.
At the front door, Jackson greeted new arrivals, two of over two dozen people Dominic had flown in from France for the event. They spoke no English and Jackson no French, but the warm welcome and invitation to eat and drink required no translation.
Dominic and Cassidy issued their own welcomes. They had never met most of their guests and knew only that they were friends and relatives of the groom. The guests, in turn, knew only that Dominic was the owner of this estate and the generous individual footing the entire bill for his cousin’s wedding—including all the first class travel expenses for the overseas guests. The couple’s faces were polite and respectful, but it was clear that they wondered at the host’s youth and stark beauty which he made no attempt to conceal in a more human appearance.
Au contraire, mon amour, Dominic said. They wonder at the most beautiful woman in the room at my side.
She chuckled. That’ll only last until the bride appears. Trust me.
The brother of said bride cut a dashing figure with his golden tan and tailored suit. Jackson didn’t even miss a beat when Dominic greeted him with a kiss on each cheek, the traditional French greeting among friends and family. After their harrowing trials six months ago, the two were definitely the former—and would soon be the latter.
Jackson’s bride-to-be was less nonchalant. Olivia looked flustered when the vampire greeted her the same way. Though Jackson, Dominic, and Cassidy had explained—not to mention proved—the supernatural facts to her months ago, her world apparently still hadn’t quite righted itself.
Dominic murmured a compliment about how radiant she looked, which caused her cheeks to bloom with color. With her twins due in less than a month, Olivia was indeed radiant, but also huge. She looked about as comfortable in her sapphire dress as a beach ball t
rapped in a potato sack.
Cassidy’s heart went out to her, and she took the young woman’s hand in hers. “How are you feeling, Olivia?”
“Oh, good, thanks. Just, you know, adjusting.” The sidelong glance she darted at Dominic made it clear she wasn’t talking about the fishbowl in her belly.
Dominic understood. With a parting kiss for Cassidy, he excused himself to attend to his duties as both Lord of Night and best man.
Jackson put a supporting arm around Olivia’s back. “You okay, babe?”
“I will be.” She smoothed her bright pixie-cut hair with one nervous hand. “But, shit. I forgot how imposing he is.” This was the first time Olivia had encountered Dominic since meeting him.
“You never get used to it,” Jackson told her, his eyes scanning the room for the other vampires. “You just relax and go with it.”
Olivia looked up at her future husband, her heart in her blue eyes and her will in her firm chin. “Thank you, Jackson. For volunteering to trust me with this knowledge.”
“Oh? You think you would have figured this out on your own, do you?”
“Well, I did minor in psychology, so . . .”
Cassidy snorted. “I didn’t even need that.”
Both women laughed as Jackson’s expression soured.
Cassidy couldn’t help but wonder how different her own life would have been if Jackson had told her about his vampire hunting before she met Dominic and formed a very different opinion of the supernatural. Whatever that life might have been, one thing was certain—she would not be standing here big as a tent, glowing with devotion for Jackson.
No, this moment—and everything that conspired to create it over the years—would never have happened. She wouldn’t have known Dominic, he certainly wouldn’t be the Lord of Night, and his subjects would still live in shadows, still feed on terror. Still be pursued by a lone hunter who nursed a bitter rage over his lost brother.
And Cassidy? She would have found herself married to that man of rage whose ultimate priority would forever be the next kill. Maybe she would have filled the emptiness with work or children or both. If she had stayed at all.
So, definitely no regrets there. Jackson and Olivia had the kind of relationship Cassidy could have never had with him, and she was truly happy for them. She was even more pleased with the life the fates had delivered for her.
At least at night.
“Shall we go see how the bride is doing?” Cassidy suggested.
“Yes. Let’s.” Olivia set herself in motion, her waddling steps hidden by the long, blue gown draping off her belly. “I still can’t believe Sam wanted me in her wedding party in this condition.”
Cassidy half-turned on the path to the pool house. “You look wonderful, Ollie. Really.”
“I’ll try not to go into labor before the I-do’s.”
“I don’t think Samantha would mind,” Cassidy confirmed on a chuckle. As long as the groom was there, Samantha would object to nothing.
She had followed Étienne to St. Barth a week after he left to help Francesca wind down her life there. Her two week visit had turned into two months, and when he came to see her again in Florida shortly after that, he brought with him a ring. He proposed to her out by the pool at sunrise, on the very spot where he had lost his heart to her when she charged into battle with a vampire bent on murder. As she told the story, in that moment Samantha had discovered a side of herself she never knew existed. And along with it her soulmate when Étienne chose to charge in right along with her. Together they had kept a raging vampire off balance and distracted until Serge could swoop in for the kill.
“It was inevitable,” Samantha often said. “I think we both knew it from the start.”
She looked somewhat less thrilled now when Cassidy and Olivia entered the pool house and found the bride standing in front of a bathroom mirror while her mother fussed over her hair and a photographer snapped pictures non-stop.
“If I had known you didn’t hire a stylist, I would have brought mine,” Lillian said. “This hair is much too long to do anything with.”
“It works fine in a braid, Mom. It always has.”
“No daughter of mine is getting married with her hair in such a mess.”
The ‘mess’ hung to Samantha’s waist in a gorgeous wheat-colored mass. The photographer swooped in for close-ups. Snap-snap-snap . . .
Samantha made a small impatient sound. “Mother, please. Just let me work with it.”
“Perhaps you will permit me to try?”
All eyes turned to Estelle, one of the other four brides-maids in attendance. She was the only one who was not a member of Samantha’s yoga community. Also the only vampire. Her hands wrung before her, uncertain. Interacting with humans she wasn’t hunting—even having several know her true nature—was still a novelty for her, to say nothing of a photographer recording her every move. She had well and truly moved out of the shadows. “I used to style my mother’s hair, which was very similar.”
“Please do,” Samantha said with an encouraging smile.
Lillian grudgingly stepped aside and prepared to pay close attention. No matter how much attention she paid, though, she wouldn’t see the truth about Estelle, and it wasn’t because of a communal effort to keep her in the dark. Her son and his bride had offered to enlighten her about their family’s clandestine operations. She refused. “I know there are things going on in my life I don’t fully understand,” she had told Jackson. “But I understand enough to know I want to know no more.”
Olivia who had not yet met Estelle, leaned close to Cassidy and whispered, “Is that . . .?”
“Mhm.”
A grin spread over her face. “I love it.”
When Lillian glanced in their direction, Olivia amended, “I love what Estelle is doing.” The half-up do taking shape on the bride’s head promised to be as relaxed as it was elegant. The photographer focused on the details and Estelle’s hands, never pointing the camera at her face. Cassidy suspected a bit of compulsion had come his way.
“I do, too,” another of the women crowding at the bathroom door announced. “Estelle, can you redo mine when you’re done?”
“But of course, Evelyn.” The vampire beamed, and Cassidy caught a happy golden flicker in her eyes.
She decided to use the cheerful atmosphere to sneak in a loaded question. “Lillian, I haven’t seen your husband yet. Is he with you?”
The mother of the bride looked pained. “He was held up with business when I left.”
I just bet he was, Cassidy thought. When Warren Striker learned about the venue and the guest list, he had put it to his stepdaughter in no uncertain terms: the wedding was to be during the day at the Striker mansion or he wouldn’t pay a single cent for it. To her mother’s consternation, Samantha shrugged and walked away.
“He said he might come later,” Lillian added.
Cassidy dragged a cheery expression onto her face. Packing a full-spectrum torch, no doubt. “Oh, good.”
Estelle finished her work and released Samantha, photographer in tow, to Cassidy and Lillian who helped her with the dress. In true Samantha fashion, the gown was a thing of simple beauty that, together with her graceful new hair style, lent her an almost ethereal air.
Cassidy stepped back to admire. “You are a true vision, my friend. Étienne may forget how to speak when he sees you.”
Lillian sighed. “Not the gown I would have wished for you, but very lovely, I agree.”
A knock at the door sent an attendant scurrying to open it. Garrett eased into the room. “Security check,” he announced solemnly.
At the sound of his unfamiliar voice, Brinkley, watching the bustle from a pillow nest on the sofa, began growling quietly. The cat had finally made his peace with the permanent vampire residents of
the house. New ones, however, were still suspect.
Garrett’s eyes narrowed at Brinkley before they found Estelle. “Is everything okay in here?”
“Security check?” Lillian exclaimed. “Seriously, Garrett. Don’t spoil the evening by being so grim.” She swept up to her brother-in-law and planted a kiss on his cheek, a gesture that made the new vampire squirm. It hadn’t been an easy transition for him. His disease had caused the process to spin out of control several times and would have killed him if his sire had been anyone less powerful and experienced than Isao.
“Just doing my job, Lillian,” he said with a dazzling smile which betrayed not a hint of fang. “It’s great to see you. You’re looking good.”
“As do you,” she said, sounding not completely sure. She had to notice the paleness of his skin, the new edges to his features, the clarity of his eyes, harder and colder than they had ever been. What was she thinking, staring at a brand new vampire fighting to maintain the control his sire had just spent months drilling into him? “It’s been an age. Where have you been hiding? In a crypt?”
Olivia covered a sputter with a cough as she went to sit beside the agitated Brinkley.
“Feels like it sometimes,” Garrett agreed. “We’ve been busy expanding our operation quite a bit. I’m sure Warren told you.”
Cassidy’s brows jumped up her forehead. Was that compulsion in those last words?
Lillian nodded. “Yes, I know. But promise you’ll be by the house soon? The place feels so empty these days.”
“Sure.” His cheer faltered a little. “Soon.” Or as soon as Warren was willing to make an exception to his no-vampires-under-my-roof-ever rule. He shot another look at Estelle, a question and a warning both. “Is everything okay here?”