Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 59151 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 296(@200wpm)___ 237(@250wpm)___ 197(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59151 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 296(@200wpm)___ 237(@250wpm)___ 197(@300wpm)
Having some sort of feelings for this monster isn’t the worst thing in the world. The idea of us being important to each other. It doesn’t need to mean anything big or unwieldy. This is fine.
Then, a full moment later, as Marc is pummeling his brother’s face, I realize such a thought is absolute nonsense. Just complete rubbish. Because the truth is, I have somehow managed to stumble and fall in love with Lucas. So clumsy of me. But he has my whole, undead heart. I have never felt this way about anyone, living or dead, and I cannot lose him. He has to win. Anything else is untenable.
Just then, Lucas punches his hand through his brother’s chest. Reaching up and under his rib cage to get at his heart. Marc’s face contorts. He shrieks his rage and pain to the room. All of his people are dust, however. There’s no one to come to his aid; no family or friends to help him. He is as alone in this moment as he can be. Lucas all but tears his brother in two. And the bloody body in his hands turns to ash as we watch.
Marc is dead. Deader. And thank fuck for that.
A muscle in the side of Lucas’s jaw shifts, and his cool, clear blue gaze finds mine. Cuts and bruises spread across his skin diminish and change shades. The man has taken a beating. But he’s still here. He’s going to be okay.
We stare at each other for a long minute. There’s a question in his eyes, and for once I don’t turn away or make excuses. It doesn’t matter that we’ve only known each other for a week. Or that there’s an age gap between us as wide as the sea. He wants to be with me, and I want to be with him.
Seems there might be something to this soul mate’s thing after all. I don’t know how else to explain it. The slow smile spreading across his lips is everything. We survived. We really are going to be okay. It hardly even matters that our home is in ruins. Pottery pieces scattered on the ground. Paintings pockmarked with bullet holes. And don’t even get me started on all of the beautiful books. Ugh.
I’m not even as upset anymore about him killing me. Because this new life I am living is kind of great. Give or take the occasional outbreaks of excessive violence, etcetera. He definitely requires further ongoing education regarding consent and equality, however.
“You’re smiling,” he says to me.
“Yeah. We’re okay. We’re still here.”
“Of course.”
Lucas might have taken our winning as a given. But I sure as hell had my concerns. I look around the room. “All of your stuff.”
“I have more stuff,” he says.
“So much more.. I’d like to see your brother come back from that,” murmurs Henry, inspecting the pile of ash at their feet.
Lucas just grunts.
“Oh, no,” says a still heavily bleeding Benedict in a sad voice. “Skye didn’t get to shoot anyone.”
Henry sighs. “That is a shame.”
“She shouldn’t have to miss out.” Benedict is seriously aggrieved. “Why don’t you shoot Henry now? I’ll hold him down for you.”
“Very funny,” says Henry.
I just smile. “No. Thank you.”
“I won’t help you dig the bullets out of your stomach and leg if you’re not nice to me, Benedict. I am warning you.”
Lucas ignores them and wipes the dust off his hands as he crosses the room. He leans down and I reach up, and we meet in the middle. As it should be. No idea how bruised and battered his mouth might be. But I kiss him gently. And the kiss is a promise of so much more. Years and eons and all the rest. I really feel like this just might work out for us.
There’s a light in his eyes as he says, “Skye can shoot someone next time we have another of these get-togethers.”
Benedict just nods.
But I laugh. “Next time.” Then, I stop laughing. “Wait. You’re not serious, are you?”
“What word am I thinking of?” asks Lucas, lounging on our bed.
I meet his gaze in the mirror as I finish brushing my hair. “The same word you’re always thinking of.”
“You need the practice, Skye. Come on.”
“It’s just going to be sex.”
“It might not be.”
“But it will be.”
His lazy smile…the vampire is too handsome for his own good. “But it might not be.”
Over a month has passed since the showdown with Marc. The house has mostly been set back to rights. Though, we still find shards of broken glass and stray cushion feathers here and there. Henry likes to call it war confetti.
Lucas has been to several board meetings, and the overhaul of The Boulevard Hotel is ongoing. Things seem to have calmed down in the city of angels. For the moment, at least.