Epilogue Part Two
A thena
I climb off the back of Reaper’s motorcycle, hair windblown, and nose cold.
I don’t think it’ll ever get old, riding behind him, feeling the wind in my hair, watching the lights fly by.
The pumpkins from Halloween have all been cleared away as everyone prepares for Thanksgiving later this week.
With the new holiday brings a welcome chill in the air, hinting at winter in Texas.
Mayhem holds the door open to the café for us as we all stroll inside. The brothers immediately head for their back table. Reaper drops a sweet kiss on my forehead before he makes his way back to join them. They’ve kept up with their bi-weekly drop-ins to the café, a habit I’m glad they’ve adopted.
“Francine! I’m here!” I call out, making my way behind the counter to pop my head through the entrance into the kitchen area.
“Oh! Athena! My dear, I feel like it’s been too long since your crowd stopped in,” she admonishes with a finger wagging and everything.
I smile, unable to hold myself back. The café is one of the regular places we visit, even after I had to stop working here.
I didn’t want to, but considering the majority of my shift was during the day, it didn’t mix well with being a vampire.
“I know, Halloween kept us distracted, but we were here two weeks ago. You were off. Speaking of Halloween, we all dressed up and went out; it was fun. Did you hand out any candy?”
“You know how I get with late nights. I handed out some fun rice crispy treats decorated with orange and purple frosting until eight p.m., then I went to bed. Nothing good happens past dark, you know.”
I nod, knowing she’s righter than she could ever realize on that one.
“Sounds like a good time. Did you make anything special here?” I bat my eyelashes and widen my smile; my fingers cross behind my back.
I miss trying all her pies from when I used to work with her.
It is almost Thanksgiving, and my vampire senses make everything taste ten times better than it used to.
“Just you wait until you try my new cranberry orange cake.”
My mouth salivates for something other than blood or Reaper for the first time all week. “That sounds divine,” I groan, wishing I’d worn loser pants because I plan to eat a big slice. She’s already plating up the club’s order, used to us stopping by every other week at this point.
I watch as the server who took my spot waits on the guys, noticing how flustered she is.
I can’t help but wonder if I was the same way and am just used to them now.
I remember being anxious, but it seems so long ago now.
Francine slides onto the stool next to me, setting a plate in front of me.
There’s a slice of cake taking up the entire small plate, with a white creamy frosting drizzled all over it.
“This looks like magazine cake, not café cake,” I comment, making her laugh. “You are the best, thank you.”
“Tell me, what else have you been up to? I miss having you here. Is that man of yours still treating you well?”
“Francine, he takes better care of me than he does his motorcycle, and that’s saying a lot.”
Her laugh is light and easy, as her eyes sparkle while she listens. I tell her how half the guys are silly, how Silver likes to fall asleep with his head down on a table in front of him, which she finds highly amusing, and lastly, how I miss seeing her regularly, too.
Out of nowhere, all expression drops from her face, her stare blank as she meets mine.
She’s in some sort of trance as she says, “A man stopped by asking for you. He was older, classically handsome, and dressed very well. He’d asked how you were doing and why you weren’t at work anymore.
I told him you were happy and had a new boyfriend.
That you were with Reaper at the motorcycle club.
” She blinks, that glazed-over expression still there. “He seemed satisfied with my response.”
Something clicks in my mind the more I take her in. She’s wearing a vacant stare, using a monotone voice, and holding herself completely still. Her entire demeanor changed mid-sentence, like a switch being flipped.
“Francine,” I say directly, leaning in as my concentration zeros in on getting her to tell me what I want. “The man who came into the café and asked about me—what did he look like? Be as specific as possible, please.”
She tilts her head mechanically. “Certainly. The man was distinguished. A few sprinkles of silver at the temples. Brown eyes with a hint of red. They were cinnamon, like...” Her voice trails off, and for a second, her gaze flickers to mine with a hint of recognition. “Like yours.”
My hands are shaky as I place them in my lap, with my heart hammering against my ribs.
I’ve seen this before. I know what the blank expression on humans who’ve been compelled by vampires looks like.
I release a sigh, knowing I have to tell Reaper all about this.
Francine isn’t just any human; she’s my friend.
Whoever did this to her wasn’t any old vampire.
I continue with my questions, probing away, “Did he happen to offer you his name? Or a number? Something?” I ask, keeping my voice light despite the unknown pooling in my stomach.
“Yes. He said his name was Jay. Mr. Jay Drakemoor. He had a hint of an accent, but I couldn’t tell from where.” She mentions it all as if she’s been scripted to do so. “He did tell me if you received this message to also let you know that you’ve made your father proud.”
The encounter hits me like a burst of cold water. I know no one who fits this description. However, he was obviously a vampire, and to claim to either be my father or know him? Has my head spinning.
“Francine, look at me,” I order her, snapping my fingers in front of her face. “You need to snap out of it.”
Her eyes flutter, confusion washing over her features. “What, dear? I’m sorry, I don’t understand what just happened.” Her confused stare glances around, as she’s suddenly anxious and not her typical calm self.
I know what I have to do, and I hate it, but I have no choice. Reaper will hear me and take care of everything at the table. I already know what he’d want me to do, and after Veronica terrorizing me, I’m not ready to face another powerful vamp, just yet.
I stare deeply into her gaze, “Francine, I want you to listen very carefully. I never worked here. You never offered me a ride home. You never fed me. You never met me. You don’t know any bikers. You will never go out at night alone ever again. You will forget me and this night as soon as I leave.”
My eyes are full of tears as I concentrate, making sure the compulsion takes a deep effect on her to work properly.
It’s the only choice I have as I make sure my mate is protected should this vampire have his own den.
Until we find out more, we have no idea what to expect. “Do you understand me, Francine?”
“I understand, I don’t know you. I never knew you. I’ve already forgotten you.” She promises in a whisper.
Then we’re gone, vampires escaping into the dark of night.
Never existing in the first place.
The End