Midnight's Jewel (Siren Publishing Classic)
Page 15
Bloody tears ran down her face. She could feel her fangs push down, biting into her own lip. She opened her eyes to see Brandon’s face above hers.
“Oh, thank the stars! I thought I had lost you!” he said. “You took so long to come back around. I thought you were gone.” He clutched her to him and kissed her. She could taste her blood in his mouth, fresh and alive. There was a cut along one of his wrists. He must have fed her his blood. It explained the penny taste. He pulled back and smiled at her in relief.
“I think if I had wanted to, I could have kept going. The choice was mine, and I chose you,” she whispered.
“It’s almost dawn. Let’s go to bed for the day,” he suggested.
He lifted her enough to pull back the sheets and slip her between them. Turning out the bedside lamp, he joined her. They became a tangle of arms and legs as they wrapped themselves in each other.
“I’m the luckiest person in the world.” She sighed and kissed his chest.
He chuckled. “No. I’m the luckiest person. You only have me. I have Midnight’s Jewel.”
With that, they drifted off for their first day of eternity together.
Epilogue
Two glasses sat on the small round green-patina patio table. The thick, sticky red liquid left in the bottom was turning dark as it deoxygenated. No plates or utensils were in sight.
The sky was a deep blur-purple shot through with a few rays of rusted orange. The landscape beyond the city had already turned to black silhouettes against the darkening sky. Below, tiny white and red lights zipped to and fro like ants over their tiny hill. The chilly air let be it known that summer was over, and fall was well under way.
Sabrina took a deep breath and let out a contented sigh. She gazed across the table to see the backside of a newspaper propped up in front of her husband’s face. With a giggle, she pushed it down below his eyes.
“Sabrina, what are you doing? I haven’t finished reading the business section yet,” Brandon scolded. He gave her a less than serious scowl and tried to straighten the rumpled pages.
“I want to look at those dark-brown eyes and those fangs,” she said. His faux scowl turned to a lustful grin.
“Oh, do you now? Well, I think we can do better than just fangs and eyes. I have something much more interesting to show you, Mrs. Thorpe,” he countered. Before she could react, he was out of his chair and scooping her up into his arms. Her metal chair fell back against the concrete with a loud scraping clank. She squealed with delight.
“Those had better be happy noises I hear,” a gruff voice from inside the penthouse apartment called out. Hadrian pushed open the French doors and stepped outside.
“I have your mail. They have a new guy delivering it from the post office. He seems to think the top two floors are all one apartment. I told him the top floor is yours. The one below is mine. I don’t think he will ever get it right,” Hadrian complained.
Brandon let go of Sabrina’s legs, standing her up, and picked up her chair. They both returned to their seats. Hadrian passed them their mail and took a seat across from them.
Sabrina sorted through the pile, searching for something interesting to look at. A postcard fell out from between two bills. There were some dark, sharp rocks poking out of a cove of intense blue water like stalagmites. The sunny photo had the words “A postcard of Hell” on the front.
“Oh, look! Farrell and Camilla sent us a postcard from their honeymoon in the Grand Caymans!” Sabrina said, thrilled. She read the back and passed it to Brandon. He read it and smiled.
“Who would have ever thought those two would hook up? Farrell is afraid of his own shadow, and Camilla, well, she’s a wolf. What can I say?” Brandon shrugged, laying the card down and picking up the bills to flip through.
“Don’t make fun of him. I thought the poor thing was going to be sick just asking her to the movies. Next thing I know, they were living together and announcing their engagement,” Sabrina chided. “I think it’s sweet. It’s just more proof love can be instant, when given the chance.” Sabrina smiled to herself. It was Eleanor’s last gift, and it had bloomed into something beautiful.
Hadrian was reading what looked to be an invoice, frowning. He shook his head and stuffed the paper back in the envelope. He pinched the bridge of his nose and squeezed his eyes shut.
“Something wrong, Dad?” Sabrina asked.
“Nothing around fifteen thousand Euros won’t fix,” he answered. “Let this be lesson to you both. When dealing with a demon, always be very, very specific. I forgot to make it clear that Delila could use my estate in Tuscany for her personal use, but that the invitation did not include guests and/or parties. The wine cellar is empty, the house is a mess, and someone ate a local farmer’s donkey. I need to go make a few calls.” He excused himself, kissing Sabrina on top of the head. “You kids have fun.”
“Mr. Thorpe? Mrs. Thorpe? A package has arrived for you,” the shy new maid said timidly. She hurried forward, sat the box on the table, and scurried back inside.
Sabrina watched her go. “How long do you think it will take her to stop running away like that? It makes me feel bad.”
“Give her time. It can’t be easy knowing your predecessor was killed by the werewolf who is now your new boss. Camilla did an excellent job selecting the new staff the wards will recognize. She’s very efficient,” Brandon said, sounding pleased.
Opening the box, Sabrina found an elaborate and obviously very old candelabra. She reached in to pluck it from the container. Skin sizzled and burned. She dropped it, yelping. Her hand began healing immediately. Brandon inspected the damage and laid a kiss where her wound had been.
He turned the box upside down and shook the contents onto the table. The candelabra were solid silver. A note fell out from under the gift. He picked it up and read it out loud.
Mr. and Mrs. Thorpe,
Congratulations on your recent wedding. I hope you enjoy
your gift.
Diana, Goddess of the Moon, Queen of Witches
“What a backhanded gift! She knows full well we’re allergic to silver,” Sabrina grumbled.
“I think that was the point,” Brandon replied. “You know. Sour grapes and all that. It’s beautiful, valuable, and useless to us. Now that the entire staff is made up of creatures of the night and of darkness, none of them will be able to touch it without gloves either.”
“Well, forget it, then. I believe we were interrupted,” she teased. “Weren’t you about to sweep me off my feet and show me something better than dark-brown eyes and fangs?”
“Why, yes, Mrs. Thorpe, I believe I was,” he agreed.
He snatched her out of her chair and stood all in one blurred motion. In a streak of color, he whisked her through the open French doors, not bothering to shut them behind him. Flashing her fangs, Sabrina laughed and giggled the entire way.
THE END
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Born and raised among the Blue Ridge Mountains of western North Carolina, J. Annas Walker was brought up in a culture rich with oral history and storytelling. Wrought out of this tradition, writing had always been a hobby for her. After acquiring a bachelor of science in civil engineering technology from UNC Charlotte, she continued writing and retelling stories learned in childhood.
For all titles by J. Annas Walker, please visit
www.bookstrand.com/j-annas-walker
Siren Publishing, Inc.
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