The Baritone’s Rival (The Vampire Impresario #2)

24. Epilogue 6 Months Later – Trent

Insiem vivremo, e moriremo insieme!

T he applause thundered from the packed house of the Manhattan Lyric, rolling over Trent and Oscar like waves crashing against the rocks. With the bright stage lights in their eyes, the sea of faces appeared as an amorphous cheering mass. Oscar turned his head toward Trent, a tiny, adorable smile on his face.

“I guess they liked it.”

Trent winked and grabbed Oscar’s hand, prompting him to bow. Trent’s insides vibrated with the thrill of performing at the Lyric for the first time. The gala introducing the new Young Artists to the subscribers was an important fundraising event. That’s what they’d been told, and Trent knew they had absolutely killed it.

It had been a whirlwind six months. He had mated with Oscar. He’d moved into the Grosvenor covenhouse. And they’d both gotten into the Young Artists Program.

He wasn’t sure exactly how that had happened, but he suspected Anthony might have played a role. All he knew was that the program had somehow found funding for one more slot. Which meant they took both Oscar and himself.

They were only a month in, but it was already life-changing. They spent their days working with professional singers and directors and musicians. They were preparing small roles in the upcoming season. Trent was exhausted and happy. And he was so grateful he had Oscar by his side for it.

The reception after the concert was a glittering affair. Trent didn’t know anyone there, but he could tell these people had money . The older women were decked out in huge jewels and long gowns. Most of their husbands sported very expensive tuxedos that also tended to be fairly wrinkled. Trent did his best to make small talk, but he was thankful he had his mate next to him. Oscar was just so much better at it.

“Trent! Oscar!” Before he emerged from the throng, Trent knew who was calling from the sound of his light tenor voice. Justin.

He squeezed past a confused-looking older woman sporting a strange silver fascinator. Justin was riding the line of appropriate clothing, wearing a mesh tank under an open blazer. He did look good, though. He threw himself at Trent.

“Oof.” Trent recovered and wrapped his arms around the tiny man, accepting the overeager hug. Justin stepped back.

“You were so good!” he squeaked as hugged Oscar.

“Thank you, friend,” Oscar said.

“We agree with Justin.” A deep rumble came from the tall, redheaded coven master as he approached with Anthony on his arm. Freddie flashed a rare smile. “You were wonderful.”

“Thank you,” Trent said. “That means a lot. I mean, you have to think we did a good job, but?—”

“Well, I don’t have to think that, but I do.” Trent turned to his left to see the director of the program, Maestro Zaslavsky, approaching them. Dressed in an elegant navy suit with a vest, the man cut a dashing figure. In his forties, the Maestro had a salt-and-pepper beard that many of the participants were absolutely drooling over. He wasn’t Trent’s type, but Trent got the attraction.

The Maestro was a man of few words, and even fewer positive ones, so when he gave a compliment, you treasured it.

“That’s very kind of you,” Oscar replied, extricating himself from Justin’s hug.

“Not kind. Just the truth.”

The Maestro sauntered off, waving at a tiny, elderly woman who was swimming in her huge red velvet dress, and heading to the open bar.

Trent smiled at Oscar. He hoped the Maestro’s words bode well for a great year ahead. Trent believed in himself, but he believed in the two of them more. He knew the future they were forging together would be glorious.

“Who was that? ”

The breathless question came from Justin, who stared at the conductor as he walked away.

“Maestro Zaslavsky?” Trent said. “He runs the program.”

“ What was that?”

Trent furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. He glanced at Oscar. What does that mean?

“He’s a supernatural,” Oscar said. “I’m not sure what kind.”

Freddie and Anthony moved in closer. “I don’t smell animal on him,” Freddie said, “so I doubt he’s a shifter, but beyond that I couldn’t say.”

“And it’s not polite to ask,” Anthony said to Justin in a pointed tone.

“He’s…he’s just so handsome,” Justin said wistfully, his gaze still locked on the man’s backside.

Trent rolled his eyes.

“We should probably keep making small talk,” Oscar said, and Trent groaned.

“Thanks for coming to support Oscar,” Trent said to Freddie and Anthony.

“Trent, we’re here to support you as well,” Anthony replied in a kind tone. “You are a Grosvenor now, part of the coven, even if you aren’t currently a vampire. We’re your family.”

Anthony and Freddie had really proven that in the last six months. They’d been nothing but kind, working hard to ensure that Trent felt included in everything that went on in the covenhouse. Freddie had also spearheaded the removal of the last few vampires left over from the Azarian coven. They’d been holed up in their new covenhouse in Hoboken. Trent wasn’t entirely sure how Freddie managed it, but in one fell swoop, he had cleaned the place out. Trent didn’t know if the vamps had been killed or imprisoned, and he mostly didn’t care. He was just glad they were fully gone.

The witches, on the other hand, that was a different story. But also not Trent’s area of expertise. He’d let the coven master deal with that hornet’s nest.

Trent glanced at Oscar, who gave him a slight nod. The idea of a family this supportive was new to Trent. It had been many years since Trent had had any family at all. He never thought he’d have one full of vampires.

“Thank you. That means a lot.”

Trent reached down and threaded his fingers through Oscar’s, leaning his head against the taller vampire’s upper arm and sighing.

A year ago, he wouldn’t have dared to imagine being where he was now. Not only was he taking the next step in his career, but Oscar and he were building a home together. There was a whole future ahead of them.

He couldn’t wait.

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