EPILOGUE || COLE #2
“Sadie’s actually pretty cool once you get to know her.
She grew up a peasant during the first Black Death in Europe,” Eli said.
“She saw firsthand how the rich and powerful removed themselves from the horrors while the poor endured all of it. So she’s a little prickly, especially about wealth inequality.
But she’s got a good heart—especially for those who try to help others. ”
“And zero patience for anyone who does harm,” I agreed. Sadie had been on the fence about me for months until she was assured my days of hunting humans were over. “She’s cautious about who she lets in. But she’s utterly devoted to Sam.”
“She even goes to meetings with her,” Eli confirmed. “Sam’s got a hundred and eighty days sober.” He glanced at me. “Thank you, by the way.”
“It was all Sam,” I assured him. “I merely gave her space to decide. The rest was her—including going back to school to become a drug and alcohol counselor, even though Sadie will surely take care of her financially.” I paused, a swell of pride for Eli’s sister rising up in me. “She’s going to help many people.”
The expression on Eli’s face softened, and I knew he’d sensed my emotions through the bond. I love you, he whispered silently.
And I love you. With all of my heart.
“I suppose I’ll find someone to dance with,” Mateo said, giving us a polite bow. He met each of our gazes in turn. “It was a pleasure to meet all of you.”
With that, he turned and left us.
Simone smiled, her gaze trailing him, pride obvious. “He’s splendid, isn’t he?”
Poppy pulled her mate down for a kiss. “He is. And he’ll be just like you, darlin’—three thousand years and no body count.”
Simone’s expression faltered as her gaze followed Mateo—who took the hand of a handsome redheaded warlock and led him to the dance floor. “Yes,” she said softly. “I certainly hope so.”
Poppy rolled her eyes. “You worry too much.”
“You’ll understand in a thousand years or so,” Simone said, her lips curving slightly with amusement. “A bit of worry is called for now and again.”
“We’ll go dance next to him,” Poppy said. She glanced at Jeremy and Thierry. “Congratulations, you two. Also, you’re welcome.”
“Yeah, thank you,” Jeremy said immediately, grinning at her.
Thierry rolled his eyes. “Yes, yes, we owe you for every moment of our marital bliss.” He nodded toward Mateo. “Now go on, dance. Mingle. Have fun. Drink too much champagne. It’s a wedding, after all.”
Poppy frowned, vaguely unnerved by Thierry’s tone. “I keep waiting for you to be mean.”
My brother arched a brow, gaze sweeping her up and down. “I’m still capable of it, if you’re wondering. But I can show restraint for people I happen to love.”
Poppy startled, blinking rapidly. “Wait. You—”
Thierry rolled his eyes heavenward. “Go dance, witch. Make my friend the happiest ancient vampire on the western seaboard.”
Poppy snorted but led Simone away without another word, though a blush crept into her cheeks.
Eli and I watched as they danced near Mateo and the redheaded warlock—but not too close. Simone’s progeny didn’t seem to notice.
“He’s lucky,” Thierry said softly. “As lucky as anyone in his situation can be. He didn’t ask to be turned, and he’s had to leave his career for now—he was a successful real estate attorney. But Simone is brilliant and kind—a wonderful maker by anyone’s estimation.”
“He’ll be fine,” Jeremy said firmly. “Better than fine.”
The music changed to an upbeat pop song. Ethan grinned at Nathaniel. “Now we have to go dance. This is—”
“One of your favorite songs,” Nathaniel finished, an affectionate smile curving his lips. “Then it’s one of mine, too. Very well.”
They nodded at the rest of us, and Nathaniel let Ethan tow him to the dance floor.
Thierry watched them, a fond smile on his lips. Then his gaze landed on a muscular dark-haired vampire and a leaner sandy-haired human man. The vampire danced awkwardly while his partner grinned, clearly trying to show him how to move his hips in time with the music.
“I suppose we should go make fun of Pierce,” Thierry said, shaking his head, bemused. “One hundred years and he’s never learned how to dance.”
“Maybe in passing,” Jeremy said solemnly. “I don’t want to interrupt their night. James may have forgiven me, but we’ve got a long way to go before we’re friendly. Pierce still hates me.”
“Pierce hates most people,” Thierry said firmly. Then he glanced at us. “Do you two wish to dance?”
I froze, flashing a nervous look at Eli. Eight centuries, and I was probably as poor a dancer as Pierce. I had never bothered to learn how.
“I, um—”
“I can’t dance,” Eli said, immediately saving me. “There was a disastrous attempt at my senior prom. It’s now illegal in all fifty states for me to move to anything but a slow song.”
Thierry rolled his eyes. “You two are perfect for each other.”
Eli beamed at him. “Yeah, we are, aren’t we?”
* * *
“I’m going to need at least two more glasses of champagne. And maybe some whiskey,” Harris told the bartender firmly, his back to us.
A dark-haired werewolf standing behind him in line snorted. “Is it a smart idea to get drunk with so much mixed company?”
Harris turned to glare at him. “Did anyone ask you? This is my first supernatural wedding. I’m definitely not doing it sober.” But as he searched the werewolf’s face, something changed in his expression—softening. “Don’t worry, though. I’ll be fine.”
The werewolf looked momentarily startled as he met Harris’s eyes. His lips parted and his posture relaxed. “Um… have we met?”
Harris’s brows pulled together. “You do look familiar,” he admitted. “But no, I don’t think so. Have you ever been to Los Angeles?”
“I can’t say that I have.” The werewolf extended his hand. “Reed. I’m the alpha of the Crescent Springs pack. I’m Jeremy’s best friend.”
“Pack, huh?” The detective took Reed’s hand and shook it. “Harris. I’m a detective—and one of Cole’s friends. He’s Thierry’s brother.” He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he met Reed’s gaze. “It’s… nice to meet you.”
Behind them, the bartender cleared her throat, looking less than amused. Harris glanced at her. “Right. Sorry. Maybe just the whiskey, actually—something top shelf. And neat.”
“A man after my own heart,” Reed said, studying him intently. There was a warmth in his tone that hadn’t been there before. “Good whiskey shouldn’t be ruined by adding anything to it.”
“Make that two,” Harris said immediately, glancing back at the bartender. She nodded and set to work pouring the drinks. He turned back to Reed. “Weird question, but do you want to dance?”
“Why is that a weird question?” Reed asked, tilting his head.
The bartender placed the drinks down on the counter with an audible click. Harris fished a twenty-dollar bill from his wallet and set it in front of her, then took the glasses.
“It’s an open bar,” Reed said, frowning.
Harris nodded toward the line of people waiting behind them. “She’s working hard. She deserves to be tipped well.”
“I manage a bar,” Reed said softly, stepping out of line and accepting the drink Harris offered. “I wish we had more customers like you.”
Harris shrugged, a blush creeping into his cheeks. He still didn’t notice Eli and me standing a few feet away—his focus on Reed was total. I had no problem listening shamelessly, and because I heard every word, Eli caught most of it as well through the bond.
“Maybe I’ll visit sometime,” Harris said. Then he grimaced, flashing a sheepish look at Reed. “But not in a weird stalker way.” He paused, his expression turning vaguely horrified as though he’d just heard how ridiculous he sounded. “Sorry, man. It’s been a while.”
Reed took a sip of his whiskey, then grinned at Harris, his dark eyes bright with a strange emotion—it looked oddly like devotion. “It’s been a while since what?”
“Since I’ve tried to be smooth or whatever,” Harris admitted. “I’m not exactly good at it.”
“Nah, you’re doing fine. Why would it be weird for us to dance?”
“I’ve never—err—” Harris’s blush deepened. “With a guy.”
“Danced? Or—”
“Anything. I’ve never wanted to.” Then Harris froze. “Holy shit, why am I telling you this? I swear I’m not a psychopath.”
“Cheers,” Reed said, grinning and raising his glass. He didn’t look especially surprised by the admission.
The detective clinked it, looking a little miserable. “Cheers.”
Reed downed his whiskey in one gulp. Harris followed suit.
“Well, there’s a first time for everything,” Reed said, setting the empty glasses on the table next to them. He took Harris’s hand, surprise flashing across the detective’s face. “And I wouldn’t mind it if you shared some of those firsts with me.”
With that, he led Harris to the dance floor.
Eli and I watched, both equally bemused by what had just happened. My mate met my gaze, his dark eyes dancing with mischief. Do you think—
I caught the shape of his thoughts through the bond and shrugged. “Thierry said that Poppy’s fated-mate spell would eventually spread through the pack, the same way it spread through our bloodline. So… maybe? Or perhaps it’s just ordinary attraction. That happens now and again as well.”
Eli snorted. “There was nothing ordinary about that interaction. Harris didn’t even notice us. And you’re basically his best friend.”
“Well, he’s certainly mine,” I said, watching with fondness.
Reed was a surprisingly good dancer, and Harris kept up with him beat for beat.
Reed’s eyes widened in surprise—perhaps at Harris’s rhythm—and he grinned, saying something I couldn’t catch.
The detective chuckled and grinned back.
“Huh. Interesting. They might actually make a cute couple.”
Eli’s eyes were dancing when I turned back to him. “You never know,” he said. “Life is full of surprises.”
“True,” I confirmed. “Life is full of surprises, indeed.”
* * *