SEVENTY-SIX
It was a good month later when Wrath realized what V’s vision had been all about. The face in the heavens, the future in his hands …
L.W. was already on a schedule, sleeping during the day, up all night—which was just perfect. Beth had bounced back from the C-section like a rocket, feeding well, eating well, and being the best damn mother on the planet.
Talk about your total natural. She was incredible … and so happy, so damned happy.
The reality of having a son was better even than the dream had been.
And oh, yeah, L.W. was taking to the on-the-planet stuff like a total trooper. Eating, pooping, sleeping, pooping, eating. He rarely fussed or cried, and had no problem being passed around at meals so each member of the household got a chance to hold him.
Even the dog and the cat liked him. The kid slept in a crib in the First Family suite, and apparently, George and Boo both thought of it as a guard station. When the retriever wasn’t helping Wrath get around, he was right with the kid, lying in front of the damn thing, on guard twenty-four/seven. And when George was on duty with his other master? That feline was on shift as the baby slept.
So yup, it was on a blissfully normal night in June that Beth said she was going for a run after First Meal, and Wrath decided to take L.W. and his dog and the cat on a promenade around the first floor. The kid always seemed to like that, and as usual, the minute they started walking, his head began to crane around as if he were checking out the real estate.
They were in the library, going by the French doors, when L.W. let out a squawk and strained as if something had caught his eye.
“What is it, big man?”
Wrath repositioned his son—God, he loved that word, son—and then did the math.
“Is that the moon you’re looking at? Must be—yeah, I think it is.”
Unlatching the door, he opened the way out and took a deep breath. Summer was coming big time, the night warm as bathwater, and as L.W. stretched his arms up, Dads thought, yup. He was checking out the old man in the sky.
Or … the face.
With a feeling that reality was coalescing in some specific, magical way, Wrath turned his son upright and faced him outward.
Lifting him high.
Holding the future … in his hands.
As his son saw the moon for the very first time—with eyes that were as perfect as the rest of him.
“I’m going to give you everything I can,” Wrath said gruffly, glad no one else was around. “Anything you need, I shall provide. And I’m going to love you until my last dying breath.”
All at once, he realized he was not alone.
People were streaming out of the doors of the house. A great crowd.
Pivoting around, he held his son protectively, bracing himself for bad news. “What.”
They came for Beth when she was on the treadmill. All of them. The whole membership of the Brotherhood.
But it wasn’t Tohr who did the talking. It was Saxton.
And when he was finished, she went numb and nearly fell out of her Nikes.
Her trip back through the tunnel, heading for the house, had the same kind of dreamscape removal that she’d suffered from when she’d gotten into trouble giving birth. She didn’t remember anything about the rush, not all the people with her, not anything that was said.
And when she came up to the foyer, and saw the others in the household gathered once again, every single one of them had the same expression she felt on her own face.
Destiny had taken the reins again.
And all they could do was go in the new direction.
She was leading the charge as they went around the first floor of the house, expecting at each turn to see Wrath and L.W.
The open door out onto the terrace provided the clue as to where they were.
As she stepped out into the night, she saw her husband holding her son up to the fullest moon of the season, the brilliant shining orb like the sun, the landscape bathed in white light.
It was as if he were making a sacred offering—
With a quick shift, Wrath turned on a dime, shielding their son with his massive arms. “What.”
Even though Saxton had brought the information home, everyone looked at her.
Stepping forward, she wished she was in something other than workout gear. A ball gown, maybe.
“Beth, what the fuck is going on?”
She tried to get the words right, frantically stringing nouns and verbs together at random in her head. In the end, though, she kept it short and sweet.
Dropping down on one knee, she lowered her head. “Long live the King.”
On a oner, the crowd behind her did the same, a chorus of those four words rising up into the night as their bodies lowered to the flagstone.
“I’m sorry.” Wrath shook his head. “I’m not hearing that?”
She got up. But she was the only one.
“You were unanimously elected for life. King of the race. Abalone led the effort, and all those commoners you helped cast the votes. Every single one of them. You have been chosen by your people to lead. You are the King.”
As the chanting started, Wrath seemed to have no idea how to respond. And it was such joyful chanting, female and male voices lifting up to the night sky, a celebration of the present and the future.
“And who knows,” Beth said as she looked at their son. “Maybe if he grows up to be like his father, he’ll be chosen, too. But it’s up to the people—you put the right to vote in their hands, and they gave the throne to you.”
Wrath cleared his throat. Again and again.
In the end, all he could do was whisper, “I wish my father and mother were alive to see this.”
Beth wrapped her arms around her husband and son, holding them both. And as she looked over her man’s shoulder and saw the face of the moon, she had a sudden sense that the realigning was over, the new era had finally arrived.
“I think they are,” she said softly. “I think both of them are looking down right this moment … and they are very, very happy about it.”
Parents, after all, were especially proud to see courage in their children rewarded by the world.
And to know that love abounded around them.
Everywhere.
Forevermore.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
With immense gratitude to the readers of the Black Dagger Brotherhood!
Thank you so very much for all the support and guidance: Steven Axelrod, Kara Welsh, Claire Zion, and Leslie Gelbman. Thank you also to everyone at New American Library—these books are truly a team effort.
With love to Team Waud—you know who you are. This simply could not happen without you.
None of this would be possible without: my loving husband, who is my adviser and caretaker and visionary; my wonderful mother, who has given me so much love I couldn’t possibly ever repay her; my family (both those of blood and those by adoption); and my dearest friends.
Oh, and to my new WriterAssistant, Naamah.
GLOSSARY OF TERMS AND PROPER NOUNS
ahstrux nohtrum (n.) Private guard with license to kill who is granted his or her position by the King.
ahvenge (v.) Act of mortal retribution, carried out typically by a male loved one.
Black Dagger Brotherhood (pr. n.) Highly trained vampire warriors who protect their species against the Lessening Society. As a result of selective breeding within the race, Brothers possess immense physical and mental strength, as well as rapid healing capabilities. They are not siblings for the most part, and are inducted into the Brotherhood upon nomination by the Brothers. Aggressive, self-reliant, and secretive by nature, they exist apart from civilians, having little contact with members of the other classes except when they need to feed. They are the subjects of legend and objects of reverence within the vampire world. They may be killed only by the most serious of wounds, e.g., a gunshot or stab to the heart, etc.