Page 56 of Vampire Runner

She sets the plate between us males and pats my shoulder before returning to the center island where she and one of the vampires who work under her are marinating and seasoning venison.

“Heard from Rhys yet?” I ask Malachi and take a bite of the beignet. I groan in pleasure, earning an indulgent smile from Josephine.

Rhys had taken Ezra and gone dark. I suspect Ambrose and Kasar are aware of where they are, but they haven’t deemed it necessary for anyone else to know. If I had to guess, Ambrose is funding anything Ezra may need in Rhys’s attempts to bring him back to himself. Rhys struggled to forgive Ambrose for exiling Ezra, which is why he left so soon after Ezra disappeared.

I think all of us are feeling guilt over Ezra’s fate and the individual parts we played in it. I want to think Ambrose wouldn’t have sent Ezra away if he’d known the demon vampire would have landed in Aeternaphiel’s clutches. Except I know Ambrose too well, and I don’t envy his position as the king of vampires. He has the steel heart to make horrible choices for the betterment of the clan and the territory we control.

“Nope,” Malachi answers, staring down into his coffee mug for a long minute. “But that’s just like Rhys. Show up out of nowhere, cause a little chaos, then leave town before the dust has even settled.”

There’s an edge to his words, but one that’s been dulled with time and experience. It’s always been Rhys’s way, ever since the Nightshades took him and Ezra in. It’s why Ambrose lets him roam the country with a rock star persona, so long as he occasionally checks in and completes any assignments Ambrose may need.

“How are the guys recovering?” I ask, knowing the Rhys and Ezra topic will lead to nothing but frustration. “You said we didn’t lose any in the fight, but a few took some nasty bites?”

Malachi barks out a laugh, full of real humor. “Tommy-boy and Silas are absolute degenerates who are milking their supposed near-death experiences for all they’re worth. You’d think the two of them had lost both legs and an eye for how I’ve heard them going on, just to get the sympathy of a pretty woman at the bar.”

I snort, thinking about the two street soldiers. “But otherwise, everyone is whole?”

He nods, gesturing to his face. “I don’t even get a scar from the paw I took to the face. The rest of them are fine. I figure I’ll give them another week of commiserating before kicking their asses into gear. I’ve got too much shit going on with this restaurant to deal with bitching and moaning.”

Familiar footsteps tease my ears and I eat the last beignet in my hand. I wipe my hands on one of the kitchen towels, before sliding around the cooks and grabbing a glass container and lid. As I slide about a dozen of the chocolatey treats into it, I ask more about Malachi’s project. He’d never been interested in his own venture before, satisfied to let the Nightshades handle his money and grow his fortunes through investments.

He waves a hand, dismissing the question. “It’s fine, just a pain in the ass as every business is. There was a hiccup with the small batch brew from Tartarus Taps, but Cinder’s pulled through and it’ll get here before doors are ready to open.” Then he grins, one better suited to Casanova. “Though I am interviewing the burlesque dancers next week. And a dance producer to handle all of that.”

I huff a silent laugh through my nose, securing the lid on the container. Cassandra walks in, stealing my breath as our eyes meet. God, I’m so damn lucky this woman is my mate. Beautiful inside and out, I know I don’t deserve her, no matter what she says.

She’s slowly adjusting her wardrobe to modern fashions and I can’t help enjoying her. She’s opted for a brown, scoop-neck, long-sleeve sweater paired with wide-legged pants in a deep green, and her new favorite brown heeled boots. She’s only pulled back the front of her hair in a clip, leaving the rest of her hair to drape down over her shoulders.

I move to her, drawn in like a moth willing to burn in her flame. I capture her waist in my hands, tugging her close before dropping a kiss onto her smiling lips.

“Have I told you how beautiful you are today?” I ask and she gives me a stern look.

“Not yet, I’m afraid,” Cassandra teases and Malachi laughs at our antics. She sends him a glare without heat. “One day, you’ll have a mate and you’ll be the sappiest of them all. You’re the one who watches all of those romance reality TV shows.”

“Nah.” Malachi pushes off the counter and swipes up another beignet from the plate. “I watch those shows specifically as a reminder of how awful relationships are. Any woman I’m with is after the same thing I am and there are never any hard feelings the next day as we go our separate ways. Speaking of separate ways, I’m off. I’ve got profiles—I mean resumes to go through for potential dancers.”

I roll my eyes but give him a tilt of the head as he leaves. I turn back to Cassandra, pressing the container of beignets into her hands. “Ready for your surprise?”

Chapter Nineteen

ASHE

What are you doing?” Cassandra asks as I pull off onto the gravel side of the highway. We’re in the country, with fields on either side of the highway and nothing else in view. Cars rock ours as they fly by, and she looks warily towards the road.

I reach across and pop the glove box open. I retrieve the black silk sleep mask I’d hidden there and hand it to her.

She raises a brow. “You’re serious?”

“Completely,” I tell her, urging her to put it on. “I’m not driving another foot until you can’t see anything.”

We’ve been in the car for hours and it’s been a true effort to keep her from sensing the maelstrom of emotions warring inside of me. Excitement, trepidation, doubt, jubilation. My emotions are a damn roller coaster that has derailed and refuses to stop. I’ve kept the surprise to myself for so long. Not even one of my nightshade brothers has seen it in decades.

With a good-natured huff, Cassandra tugs on the mask and sticks her tongue out at me when I double-check that she can’t see anything. I kiss her, pulling back before I’m tempted to deepen it and delay our arrival. I want to make sure we have plenty of daylight when we get there, and it’s already mid-afternoon.

Pretty soon I turn us off the highway and onto a two-lane road where farmland gives way to an older town. Homes built earlier that century are set back a dozen feet from the road and then the houses give way to the center of the town itself.

My nerves wind tighter each stop sign or blinking red light. The main street is lined with brick buildings that are stores that haven’t changed much since they were first built. Old iron lamp-posts have been updated to use electric lights rather than gas. Then the street curves around the manicured park in the center of town.

“Are we almost there?” Cassandra asks impatiently.

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