Page 110 of Of Flame and Fate

“I choose the vamps,” Johnny announces, speaking quickly when the entire room erupts with noise. “But I have conditions.”

Uri leans back into his seat, appearing impressed. “What are they?” he asks.

Ines storms off-screen. “Don’t do this,” Genevieve says, affronted and angry. “That isn’t where you belong.”

Johnny ignores her, speaking to Uri as if only he matters. “One last concert for my fans, and for my people who didn’t make it. Only I want theweresto guard me and for Misha to come for me once it’s over.”

“Where?” Uri asks.

“Why do you want us guarding you?” Aric asks. He rises slowly as does Gemini. “If you’re choosing the vamps, why not let them watch you?”

Johnny looks at Gemini. “I want Taran with me. I know you won’t let her go unless you’re there, too.”

That much is true.

“Where do you wish this concert to be?” Uri asks. He doesn’t like the attention on anyone but him and is pissed Aric momentarily stole his spotlight.

“Orangeburg County, in South Carolina. There’s a new arena. One of the last few times I talked to Drake, he said that’s where I needed to be.” He huffs. “Thirty-thousand capacity. Go big or go home, right?”

“If that’s what you want, you shall have it, young Fate,” Uri tells him, looking as pleased as a cat with a screeching canary in its mouth.

Johnny meets my face, and for the briefest moment, I feel his heart shatter. “It’s what I want,” he says. “I think it’s time we all embrace our fate.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

I step out of Johnny’s dressing room, smiling when I see Gemini. He’s in charge of Johnny’s security, something he insisted upon when I insisted on going.

Johnny wants me with him, and whether we say it or not, I think this is our last goodbye.

“Hi, babe,” I say, laughing when his scowl remains firmly in place. “What’s wrong?” I hang tight to my phone and turn slowly, causing the skirt of my strapless pink chiffon dress to flutter. “I’m wearing practical shoes and everything.”

It’s true. I ditched the dagger pumps I’d planned to wear for sparkly ballerina flats.

He pulls me against him. Oh, and there’s that smile I like. “I’d rather have you alone with me, and far away from here.”

I wrap my arms around his neck when he bends to kiss me. “Ever have hot sex backstage at a concert?” I ask. He shakes his head slowly, his face warming with desire. “Do you want to?”

“Very much,” he replies, grazing his teeth along my neck. He stops at my ear, giving the lobe a tug. “But not until I’m sure we’re safe.”

My impish demeanor dissolves. “Do you think the shifters will come for him?”

“I don’t know,” he admits. “Chatter surrounding the neophytes has been minimal and limited to the countries within South America. That doesn’t mean we can assume they won’t appear. Stay alert so we can wake up safe in each other’s arms.”

He kisses me again, easing away only when the local pack approaches. “We’ll be outside, guarding the perimeter. If there’s any trouble, or even if you suspect there might be, call me.”

“I will,” I promise.

I watch him march down the corridor that leads toward the exit and away from the screaming crowd shouting Johnny’s name. It didn’t take long for the vamps to organize the show, a week tops, I think. And it took less than twenty minutes for every seat to sell out. It’s one hell of a way to go out, but I suppose this is what Johnny needed.

This arena was erected in what seemed like the middle of nowhere. It’s a massive colosseum with several elevated tiers and where the newly formed football team will play their first game come fall. The farmer who owned the land must have made out like a king. And from what the local pack told us, he still has the potential to make more. More builders are bidding on the wooded acres surrounding the arena, hoping to put in a mall, and possibly erect a small town to bring more businesses to the area.

I consider how much the area residents will make with just Johnny’s show alone when the door to his dressing room cracks open.

My smile appears when the man of the hour steps out, wearing black leather pants, boots, and a vest. His long bleached hair, on top of his head, drapes over the side against his cheek. He looks almost exactly as he did when I first saw him, except for the little bit of innocence he seemed to lose along the way.

“Ready?” I ask.

“I guess I have to be,” he says, forcing a smile I wish he didn’t have to.

---