“You were not the cause, you were the solution I had been begging for.”
“I lied to you.”
“And I forgive you.”
“How?” she choked out.
He leaned up and brushed her mouth with his. “You’re easy to forgive. You risked your life to go find out the truth. You were the one who found the lies and turned everything around. You are the savior I’ve spent my whole life praying for, Your Highness.”
She shook her head. “Do not call me that. Please. I picked maichen because I don’t believe I’m better than anyone else. With beating hearts and open minds, we are all the same.”
“See,” he whispered. “You just keep getting more beautiful.”
She looked at him for the longest time. Then, with a shaking hand, she reached out and touched his face. In response, he pressed his lips to her fingertips.
“This is real,” he told her. “You can trust this. You aren’t going to wake up and have this be over. You and I? This is our beginning.”
“I love you,” she said in a rough voice. “I want no one else but you.”
iAm smiled and pushed in between her legs, bringing his body against hers. “And I feel the same way, my maichen. I love you, I love you . . . I love you. . . .”
As he started to kiss her, she found it hard to believe that it was really happening. That he had come back to her. That once parted asunder, they now were cleaved as a single whole.
Pulling away a little, she asked, “You’re sure this is real?”
He shrugged and smiled at her. “Of course it is. You and I were written in the stars. . . .”
With that, he kissed her lips again.
And she kissed him back.
EIGHTY-SEVEN
The meteor shower happened at midnight on the dot.
As Trez stepped free of the mansion’s warmth, and walked some distance past the courtyard and onto the descending drive, he got out of the lee of the exterior security lights, and that was when he looked up and saw the sky clearly.
Against a dense, velvety black and among the pinpricks of bright white stars, a sprinkling of flashes was cast across the sky, like gold dust let loose from an open palm.
He smiled sadly. “Thank you, my queen. I needed this.”
Watching the display, he felt both very alone and totally connected, especially as he reflected on that vastness above.
If anyone ever wanted to sense the infinity of time and existence, all they had to do was look at the night sky and feel their precious dead staring back at them. It was the great duality of union and separation.
It was just as his Selena had told him at the door to the Fade.
He wanted her beside him so badly that he’d woken up again with a wet face and a soggy pillow. But yet he was here, upright in his boots, prepared to somehow figure out how to breathe while the one who had made his lungs work was on the other side.
“I’m going to go now,” he said. “Come with me—”
Trez jumped and spun around.
Sure as he knew there was no one behind him, he could have sworn a gentle hand had rested on his shoulder.
He prayed it was the ghost of his shellan. If it wasn’t, he was probably losing his mind.
Short trip.
Wha-hey.
Closing his eyes, he had to wait a moment for the concentration to come . . . and then he was off, scattering his molecules through the cold, clear autumn night.
When he re-formed, it was in front of Sal’s Restaurant.
He supposed he could have gone around to the back, but no. This was a big night, a kind of reintroduction for him. He would enter through the front.
Going over to the keypad by the glass doors, he entered the code and then opened his way in. Instantly, the old-school Rat Pack decor sank in for him, the red-and-black flocked wallpaper bleeding into his retinas, the he’d-been-here-a-thousand-times sense seemingly both accurate and a lie.
Walking forward, he mounted the couple of steps and went by the hostess stand; then headed past the dining rooms and into the bar area in the back. The flap doors to the kitchen were over on the right, and he took his leather jacket off as he went, leaving it on the bar.
The place was empty as usual on a Monday night.
His clubs were closed, too.
He was going to go to them tomorrow night, though. Because . . . well, that was just what he was going to do.
Unless the Brothers needed him.
Jesus, and he thought he’d owed Rehvenge before? It was nothing compared to what he felt for the Black Dagger Brotherhood and their King.
Anything, anytime for those males.
Forevermore.
He found himself hesitating at the kitchen’s entrance, staring at the pair of doors, both of which had circular windows of Plexiglas in them so that the waitstaff didn’t smack each other around as they carried trays of food in and out.
Putting his palm on the one on the right . . .
. . . he finally pushed in.
Right away, the smell of his brother’s famous marinara sauce hit his nose—and actually, for the first time since his Selena passed, he felt a pang of hunger.
iAm was facing the stove, stirring a huge pot with a spoon as long as an arm. “. . . proper amount of oregano. It’s mission-critical.”
Over on the left, at the far end of the stainless-steel counter, a small round table had been set up with a linen tablecloth, place settings, and flowers in the middle. And the Queen of the Shadows was sitting at the thing, her head and hair exposed, her beautiful, kind face tilted toward his brother . . . her eyes lit with such devotion and love, Trez took an instant adoration to the female.
She noticed his presence before iAm, Mr. Formerly Silent But Now Chatty Cathy, did.
With a quick flush, her face changed, tension tightening the features, squeezing out her smile.
iAm wheeled around. “Oh, hey, brother, you made it.”
“Ah, yeah.” Trez pushed his hands into the pockets of the jeans he’d worn. “I’m here.”
“Well. Ah, good.” iAm came around, and even though they weren’t normally huggers, he gave a good, hard embrace. “Ah . . . so, yeah. Thanks for coming.”
“Thanks for having me.”
They both looked at the Queen. Who slowly rose to her feet and smoothed down the shimmering robe she wore.
Diamonds. It was covered with a fine mesh of diamonds.
And for a moment, panic fisted Trez’s chest, the sight of those gems set in metal returning him to—
No, he thought. That was not necessary. That was no longer the reality they were all living in.
It was over. The nightmare was well and truly over, and he was going to need to trust that—because this female? She was going to be part of his family.
There was no way the two of them weren’t getting mated ASAP.
He could smell the bonding scent riding on the air over all those Italian spices.
Trez broke off from his brother and went over to the tall, slender female.
It felt really fucking bizarre, but goddamn it, he sank to his knees and prostrated himself at her feet.
“Oh, please don’t,” she said as he began to recite the proper greeting. “No, please. I’m . . .”
When he looked up, she had actually gotten down on her own knees with him.
“Please,” she said. “Call me maichen. That’s what iAm calls me.”
maichen. As in maid? Trez thought.
Huh. Now he had another reason to like her.
Sticking his palm out, he said, “Hi. I’m iAm’s brother . . . Trez.”
She started to smile. Then she laughed—and clasped what he’d offered back. “Hi. I’m iAm’s—what’s the word?”