Epilogue

Let’s See about You

Loren

They rode up to the back of the house.

It did not bode well to see his wife standing in the open

doorway, Carling lurking at her shoulder, her arms crossed on her chest, her

lovely face set to, as they put it in her world, really seriously pissed off.

He grinned.

She caught it and looked even angrier.

“Carling! Break out the whisky,” Marlow ordered.

“Do that first, milord, or call a physician?” Carling asked

in return.

“Physician,” Middy scoffed through a broken lip.

“We had a deal, you and me,” Satrine

called to her husband.

They reined in, and his four brothers were much swifter in

dismounting than he.

Corliss’s stable boy rushed forward to grab the reins.

Loren took his time sauntering to his wife, who barely moved

as his friends slid by her into the house, Croft being the last and sending him

a “best of luck” expression.

Carling followed them.

Loren stopped in front of her.

“I’m not sure what you find amusing!” They

heard Mary say loudly and imperiously from inside. “My niece was in a state.

There’s nothing amusing about a lady in a state. No, you there, also

grab a bottle of brandy. We’re out in the parlor, and I’m parched.”

They waited, and when no more could be heard from the house,

she started it.

“I wasn’t in a state.”

“I’ve no doubt.”

And he didn’t. It would take a lot more than their

activities that night to shake his Satrine.

“You’re bleeding,” she told him something he knew.

“Tonight was supposed to be reconnaissance. We weren’t

expecting action,” he explained.

“I promise, dearest heart, I will do my utmost to keep

myself safe. I vow, love of my life, that I will keep you apprised of

everything.”

He tried but failed to stop his grin as she pretended to

talk in his deep voice.

Thus, she slapped his arm. “Loren! You didn’t tell me a

thing about tonight. And when we decided that you would tell Tor that you and

the boys would resurrect Tor’s program that was the brainchild of Tor and your

dad, the deal was that you would keep me in the know about everything.”

He pulled her stiff, vaguely resisting body into his arms.

“Darling, you were at the theater with Maxie, Mary and your

mother.”

“Did you temporarily lose use of your hand? You couldn’t

write a note?”

“There wasn’t time.”

“Your mouth seems to be working just fine. You couldn’t

brief Carling?”

“Again, there wasn’t time.”

“You’re going with us to the theater every time we’re in

Newton,” she threatened.

“Please, gods, no,” he teased. “My transgression wasn’t that

bad.”

She tipped her face to the stars.

“Honestly, my love,” he said in all seriousness, and her

gaze returned to him. “There wasn’t time.”

She put her hands to his chest and started fiddling with his

collar. “It’s very annoying, people doing stupid things that hurt other people,

requiring you to go out and stop them from doing those stupid things.

Especially when you don’t tell me you’re going out to be all hardass and kicking ass to stop them.”

“It is indeed very annoying,” he murmured, pulling her

closer and feeling his lips twitching.

She narrowed her eyes. “If you think you’re gonna get

yourself some, mister, you’re very right. Because you rock in bed. And because

we’ve been married all of six weeks, and I’m still feeling honeymoon vibes. But

I’m also still holding a grudge.”

“Will you stop complaining so I can kiss you?” he requested.

“No. You’re going to clean the blood from your nose and your

penance tonight is that there will be no kissing. In fact, you can’t touch me

at all. You have to lie there, arms over your head, while I take care of

business.”

His cock jumped and a growl rumbled from his throat.

She melted into him trying to pretend she wasn’t melting

into him.

“I warn you, my lovely wife, this is not much of a penance.”

“You don’t get it. The penance is, the offer is rescinded if

you don’t get your arse inside, safe, and out of the cold in…oof!”

Loren made note that was one way to quiet her pretty mouth.

He then set about leaving his brothers to whisky, brandy and

Mary, who right then, he knew from experience, was going about wringing every

last detail of their night’s adventure from his friends, and he carried his

wife to bed to finish his penance.

Something he achieved.

Valiantly.

And elatedly.

Ed

At About the Same Time

In Phoenix…

The green mist formed in the corner.

A woman formed of the mist.

She was a knockout.

And he was totally buying more coke from that guy.

Still, he said, “What the fuck?”

“Your daughter married,” she announced.

“Hunh?” he asked.

“And your ex is the second wealthiest woman in the land.”

Okay, either that shit was laced with some serious other

shit or maybe he should just lay off…well, everything for a while.

He shook his head like it’d clear her away, but it didn’t.

Instead, she kept talking whack.

“It is very good that the leaders of this world don’t

believe in magic. They can’t put restrictions on it.”

“Okay, baby, if you’re gonna be a fantasy that sticks

around, how ’bout sucking my dick while you do it?” he suggested.

She smiled a cat’s smile.

And said, “As such, I curse you, Edgar Bradford Dawes. I

curse every woman who might have meaning to you, to spurn you. I curse

everything you touch to turn to dust, figuratively, of course. I curse

everything you desire, to be elusive. I curse you to living the rest of your

life chasing dreams, and falling short. I curse you to misery, Edgar.

Unrelenting.”

She took a step forward.

And Ed felt his balls shrivel up.

“And when you die, Edgar, you will remember your beautiful

daughter and the woman you used to love who you threw away, both you used and

sent into peril. Maxine was beaten, Edgar, pressed to whore herself not of her

volition, and Corliss was imprisoned and starved.”

He felt his throat close.

“That guy said that they’d—” he pushed through it.

“He is you, thus, he lied.”

She lifted a hand and opened her fist. A puff of what looked

like green chalk dust formed out of it and made its way to him.

“You are cursed,” she whispered as she began to fade away.

The dust grew as it got closer, and Edgar scrambled up,

falling over the back of his chair to try to escape it, but it enveloped him

all the same.

In the end, he’d spend decades trying to escape it, doing

everything he could, going insane in the effort.

But just as she promised he would, he always failed.

Two Hours Later

In another room in the Derryman house

in Newton…

The green mist formed in the corner.

And the witch formed of the mist.

She wore clothing from her world.

Her heels were high.

Even so, she walked to the bed on silent cat’s feet.

She gazed down on the sleeping woman, her glorious leonine

hair unbound and all over the pillow.

“Finally, a challenge,” she whispered.

She took in a breath.

And then Valentine Rousseau stated, “Now, Lady Maxine, let’s

see about you.”

The

End

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