Page 33 of Seph

She flipped the switch, and the vacuum cleaner roared back to life. “We should leave at sunset tonight, or maybe a littlebefore. You want to call Hades and make sure the windows on that thing have vampire-safe tinting?”

Her back was turned. The conversation was done.

Could it be... could it be that there was something there? Something beyond the talking, the training, and the hot, heavy kissing that still lingered in his mind?

Maybe she just wants a break from these four walls and this peaceful life. It’s different from what she used to have, that’s for sure.

Or maybe... maybe she wantsme.

“We could make it back home every night. Or day. Not like we’ve got to buy the airfare. We’ll just say the word, and we’re home.” Simeon kept his voice low, projecting it just so she’d hear it, a sensual rumble that her highly-trained ears would detect—and her sometimes-self-righteous arse would tell him off for if she didn’t like the tone.

Emily’s shoulders dropped, and she turned off the vacuum and began to wind up the cord. “Yeah. We could. But... we might also be following leads pretty late into the night, and then there’s you with the poor grasp of time zones and the burning to death as soon as the sun is up... No. We should stay put. Plus, if I call out sick from work for a week and then they see me running around town like nothing’s wrong, they might fire me.”

“They might not see you?”

“Are you kidding? In this town? Someone from work will see me, and then they’ll tell the manager. They’ll think I just called off for the hell of it—oof. I mean, that I was just playing hooky.” Emily shook her head. We can find hotel rooms.Separaterooms.”

Simeon grinned.She wants to be around me. For a week. Or at least, bits of it.

That’s a start.

Simeon got into the silver Mustang and drove into the next block before thinking of a very specific blank spot of grass next to his apartment building. Sure, he could drive, but he figured he should practice putting the car through its magical paces. He landed beautifully without even a judder, as smooth as silk.

As he hurried into his building, worrying as the late October sky started to lighten, he paused to look at the exterior wall. You’d never know a car had crashed through it earlier.

Inside, Simeon stopped and cocked his head. The candy in his Halloween treat bowl was no longer scattered across the floor. The bowl was full—overflowing with all of his favorites. The small basement flat was not only immaculate, but repainted, de-cobwebbed, and the water stain on the ceiling was gone. The bare white walls had been stenciled with a graceful swirling pattern. On a whim, he walked over to the small kitchen and yanked open the cupboard and the fridge.

Bags of blood.

Cans of lager.

The cupboards were full of Scotch and snacks.

“Really startin’ to like that guy.” Simeon tossed shirts and jeans into a black leather rucksack that had been taped and resewn several times over the decades. It had a capacious central pocket and about twenty smaller ones on the side. When every pocket was full, Simeon shouldered the bag and hoped he wouldn’t have to start hating the heartbroken god as the bloke who put him in eternal lock up.

Once he was packed, he was able to grab a few fitful hours of sleep, but he woke up with a jolt right before sunset, a feeling of fearful anticipation and ready-to-fight-and-kill adrenaline soaring through his veins.

In moments, he was sliding into the silver car.

Simeon tossed his bag in the back and patted the steering wheel as he shut the door. He put the key in the ignition, engaged H-Mode, and braced his legs. “Pinecrest Avenue, Pony. Next stop, Idaho—but not y—wait, I—oh, bugger.”

Chapter Eleven

Emily tossed two suitcases in the back. One clinked.

“Holy water?” Simeon asked.

“Holy water.” She buckled in, braced her feet, and gripped the door frame. “Okay. Drive. Or... fly? Whatever.”

“The suspension on this thing is amazing. I took a thirty-second jaunt to Boise earlier. Van Helsing, put your arms down, I have the H-Drive off.”

“Oh, thank God. And speaking of gods—what the hell are we doing?” She was from a line of feared vampire hunters. Shouldn’t she have planned this better? But no, all she had done was clean the house, pack, and worry about what she was leaving behind, not what she might run into whenever they got where they were going. “Do you have a plan? How do we fight gods? How do we—”

“I dialed 9 for Hades’ direct line.” Simeon flipped the phone out of his pocket and showed her the innocent-looking black phone. “If we find her, we dial 999. Which is funny, ‘cause that’s the number of the emergency services in Britain. I—”

“Simeon.” How could he joke? How could he almost always find time to smile, to make her smile? Why was the car making him seem way too close, his hair smell way too good, and his skin look way too touchable? Emily would have blamed Hades and said he had put some chick-magnet charm on this thing, but... no. For a thousand years, he had not given up on finding his one true love.

One true loves. They don’t... let you go. They don’t give up on you. They don’t move on.

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