Page 76 of Demon Hunter

Liam:

Hold that thought. I have an idea. It could be spendy, though. Like… really spendy.

Dylan:

Oh?

Liam:

There are VIP tickets that don’t go on sale to the general populace. They’re the kind you can only get if you’re a celebrity or have connections.

Ian:

Oh my fucking god, Liam, tell us you have those connections. Marc and I will chip in if we have to. Don’t tell him, though.

Dylan:

Can you really get tickets for us?

Liam:

Let’s find out.

Matt

“I still can’t believe this,”I repeat for what must be the thirtieth time, looking around the packed stadium. The concert’s going to start soon, and part of me kind of believes that’s when I’ll wake up from the coma everyone keeps promising me I’m not in. “When you said tonight was an early birthday present, I figured dinner at my favorite restaurant, the dulce de leche cake with the picture of us kissing on it, and the box of my favorite chocolates was it.” Not that he’d grin and tell me it was time for the second part of the night. Or that the second part of the night would be a freaking sold-out Taylor Swift concert that I’ve been trying not to mope about missing.

Or the fact that he somehow scored us a VIP experience I didn’t even knowexisted. Seriously—no waiting in line for us. We parked in a special parking lot that we needed ID to access, and then a PR person who introduced herself as Jodi escorted us to our seats and brought us drinks. There’s a fucking Oscar-winning actor in the row behind us. I lean in close to Dylan. “Did you have to sell kidneys for this, and where did you get them from?”

He laughs. “Let’s just say that I’m the king of present giving in this relationship.”

“A-fucking-men,” I agree as the lights go down and the screaming starts around us. I put in the industrial-level earplugs Dylan gave me earlier, but even with them, my enhanced hearing means this is going to be a loud experience.

I don’t care.

The last few months have been a series of trials as I’ve gotten used to my new abilities. Marc talked to his friends, and the consensus was that when he healed me, he basically taught my body how to work better on a cellular level, and it translated that to improving things overall. We’ve been monitoring it closely, and while I’m continuing to change, the rate is slowing down, so Marc and his friends think there’s only so far my body cango unless he intervenes again—which I fucking hope he won’t have to. There’s been no sign of anything like telepathy or telekinesis, and I’m honestly not sure if I’m pleased about that or disappointed. It’d be awesome if I could talk to Dylan in his head like Ian does with Marc.

In the midst of all that, we finished wiping away any signs that the Wentworth and Hazelwood families, plus their businesses, ever existed. A whole lot of people who were expecting their cleaners, gardeners, etc. to turn up for work were bewildered, but they ultimately just moved on to other companies. The money the family had amassed over the centuries, we used to set up a house for Gus and Rachel, and to fund the search for the missing demons. All the ones that were listed in the ledger have been sent home, but there are still over a thousand unaccounted for that Gus and Rachel are committed to tracking down. Raum helps them, and Marc supervises it all with help from me and Ian. Though he says we’re not helpful.

Norval’s also gotten deeply invested in the hunt. At first we weren’t going to tell him, but his habit of just popping up at random times can make it tough to keep secrets. He was outraged, swore to keep it a secret from everyone, and immediately appointed himself a surrogate uncle to Gus and Rachel. They’re not really sure what to make of him yet.

Other than that, though, my life has gone back to normal. Dylan moved down to the compound so we could be together, and between loving him, working, and hanging out with Ian, my world is a pretty cool place.

And now I get to see a goddess perform live.

The music starts, and unlike a lot of people, I don’t bother getting my phone out to record. There are going to be enough videos uploaded to social media if I want to relive this—for now, I just want toliveit.

I sing.

I dance.

I scream along with everyone else.

Every time I look at Dylan, he’s grinning, watching me with his eyes full of love. He did this for me. I still don’t know how he pulled it off, but fuck, he’s the best boyfriend a guy could ever have. I’m going to take him home after this and show him that—nothing could make this night better.

“You Belong With Me” comes to a close, and I reach for my water bottle. That song’s a bop, I don’t care what anyone says. The opening strains of “Love Story” send the crowd into a frenzy as I cap the bottle again, and I start scanning the crowd, trying to pick anyone who might be proposing tonight. There’s always a bunch of people, and I think it’s super cute. I know some people hate the idea of a public proposal—or an unexpected one—but you can tell when it’s one of those versus a dream come true.

There’s a couple in the ground section that seem to be a likely prospect, and I keep my eye on them as the song progresses, only halfheartedly remembering to sing along. The tempo changes for “Juliet’s” plea, and then—Yes! He’s going down on one knee!

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