Page 107 of Sequel to the Easter Bunny

She smiles and I imagine she’s holding back a laugh. “He takes after his father.”

Scooping up a pile of the work she’d been in the middle of days before she offers us a smile. “Besides, I hear he’s become an insufferable ass since I’ve been gone. And that’s another thing I will accept no blame for.”

“Of course not.” Jack says, and he sounds as though he really means it.

She turns for the lift, snatching her bag from where she left it beside the table. “I’ll be downstairs in your office, getting some things sorted out. Give me a call if you need me, otherwise, I’ll consider the floor off limits. Oh! And don’t forget, you have an audience at midday… so, don’t get too distracted.” She gives me a wink as the lift doors close.

“I’ve always liked her.” Jack says, and before I can agree, he scoops me up. “Point me to the bed, or I will take you on this hard floor, wife.”

I do as he says, unable to speak as he kisses me so deeply I have to tighten my arms around him.

Suddenly, I hate the skirt of this dress. It’s too narrow to wrap my legs around him. It’s like a soft cage and I can’t wiggle it off without his help.

But his tongue makes me forget all my complaints, and a moment later, he tips us both onto my bed.

He shifts on the mattress, whiskers twitching. “It’s odd… your bed.”

“We can make any changes you want.”

He snaps and the bed bursts beneath us, the concussion popping us up into the air. When we land again, it’s in the basket bed from his domain.

“Much better.” He drags me over him and then says, “almost.”

Another snap and we’re both naked, morning sunlight streaming over us.

“Perfect.”

Kissing the furry line of his jaw, I wiggle on top of him. “Two can play that game.”

This time, I’m the one who snaps, and the cool metal plug forms in my hand, the fluffy white tail on its end is almost a perfect match to his fur.

He takes it from me with the sort of smile that tells me I’m in for the best kind of trouble. “For me, or you?”

Epilogue: Easter

The lawns are filled with the people who have come to the spire for Easter. It is the one day of the year that Ester chooses to join those of us who exist on the mortal plane.

Today, she sits on her throne, beneath an enormous, flowering tree that wasn’t here yesterday. I sit beside her on a throne that’s half as high, and twice as wide.

Between us, a bassinet that should hold my younger daughter.

Rose is five months old and Ester has already whispered that she can’t decide which of the girls is her favourite.

I look from where Ester cradles Rose, out to the field where children search for eggs amongst a thousand wild flowers.

They are eggs filled with treats and toys. Eggs that remind me of the kind I’ve begun to think of as a reward.

“You were the right choice,” she says, though it sounds like the words are dragged from her.

Jack follows Iris around the lawns. She’s been waking for two months and he’s still terrified that she’s going to fall and hurt herself.

Even here on the soft grass.

“My granddaughter will rule this Valley one day, and far better than you.”

“I can only hope you’re right.”

“And what about those ones?”

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