The Thief

And then the male lurched…and fell to the ground.

SIXTY-ONE

Some two hours later, Assail was out of surgery and in one of the training center’s inpatient rooms—and he was awake, and smiling. He was fairly certain he had been smiling all the way through the stitch-up process, where, according to Doc Jane, he’d needed a repair for a collapsed lung, a leaky bowel, and something else that didn’t matter to him.

There was an IV in his arm, which he’d been told was pumping meds into him, but he was floating on a bubble of such happiness, it could have been saline solution and the stuff would have been like morphine.

The only thing that could make him feel better was if his female—

Right on cue, the door opened wide. But it was not his Marisol; it was his other female.

“Mrs. Carvalho,” he called out, even though her hearing was perfectly fine and the room no larger than ten by twelve. “Do come in.”

Marisol’s grandmother was smiling just as he was. “We stay, then. She told me. We stay with you. We stay here in Caldwell.”

As the older woman came forward, Assail frowned as he caught sight, over her short stature, of an argument out in the corridor. Marisol and Vishous were standing nose to nose, as if they were in disagreement about something—and he knew well that thrust of his woman’s chin: The Brother might have been bigger, stronger, and a vampire.

But he was going to lose whatever it was.

Assail refocused on her grandmother. “What are they arguing about?”

Mrs. Carvalho made a dismissive motion. “I no care. I only care that we are here. My granddaughter not so stupid after all.”

“That she is definitely not.” He motioned for the elderly woman to sit at the foot of his bed. “How are you feeling?”

“I am perfect. I live a hundred more years.”

“Good. That’s what I want to hear.”

As a flicker of unease went through him, he considered how long he was going to be alive as opposed to the humans in his life. But maybe…miracles happened. Who knew what the future held? He had heard stories of Mary and Jane being saved.

He would have to find a way for Marisol and her grandmother to be similarly blessed.

“So,” Mrs. Carvalho announced, “you come home next night they say. We go to church then. Midnight mass. All house. Cousins and Markcus.”

“Yes, madam. As you wish.”

Mrs. Carvalho took his hand in hers and gave him a little pat. “You good boy. And then you convert—”

“Vovó,” Marisol said as she entered. “He does not have to convert—”

“For you,” Assail told his female’s grandmother, “I will do anything. If you want a Catholic in me, then you shall have it.”

Marisol came over and kissed him on the lips. “Suck-up,” she whispered.

“I have to be in good with the in-laws, as you call them.”

“Listen,” Marisol said, “I’m going to take Vovó back to the house, if it’s okay.”

“I have to cook for those men,” Mrs. Carvalho said gravely. “They too thin. They no eat unless I make the food.”

“You need to take it easy, Vovó.”

The pshhht was quick and declarative, and then Mrs. Carvalho was onto her feet and heading off. “I go make my bed. I leave—”

“Vovó, this is a hospital. You don’t have to make—” Marisol shut up as a glare came at her sure as the boxing of an ear. “Of course, Vovó. I’ll be out in a minute to help you.”

When they were alone, Assail reached up and touched her face. “My love.”

She kissed his palm. “I’m so glad…well. You know.”

“I know.” He grew serious. “Listen, Ghisele is going to come in in a little bit and I’m going to…”

“Jane explained it to me.”

“There is nothing sexual at all in it.”

“I understand.” She smiled. “Save the sex for me, okay?”

“Always,” he growled.

“I’ll be back as soon as I can. You rest.”

“I love you. Always and forever.”

“I love you, too, Assail.” She leaned in and kissed him. Then ran her tongue across the points of his canines. “Man, I am so turned on—”

Before he could help himself, he snatched ahold of the nape of her neck and yanked her to his mouth. After he kissed her hard, he set her back so he could meet her eyes.

As the scent of her arousal flared, he knew she was staring at his fangs as they descended from the roof of his mouth.

“I will never hurt you with them,” he said in a guttural voice. “Ever. But if you want them—”

“I do,” she breathed. “I want you to do…whatever you do.”

Without thinking about it—and even though the door was not locked and there were people around—he took her hand and pulled it under the sheets. Placing her palm on his erection, he rolled his hips.

She took over from there. As they kissed, and his hand found her breast through her fleece, she stroked him.

It did not take long. And even though his fresh stitches stung as he worked with her rhythm, the pleasure was so great, he started coming almost immediately—and he didn’t stop.

He didn’t ever want to stop.

“I love you,” he said on a groan, “and I can’t wait to be inside you again.”

“Me, too. God…me, too…”

* * *

—

It was about an hour later when Sola caught a ride to her car with Vishous in the van they used to run her grandmother back home. Assail’s cousins and Markcus had been overjoyed at the reunion, and the three males had fallen in line with marching orders to go to the supermarket.

All was well in the world.

And about to be even better, Sola thought as she got out. “Thanks for the ride.”

“I do not like this.”

“You’ve made that amply clear,” she said dryly.

At that moment, his cell phone went off, and talk about perfect timing. In case it was about Assail, though, she waited.

The vampire cursed. “Goddamn it. Another attack.”

“What?”

“Nothing. You just lucked out, though. I’ve got to go handle this—otherwise, I’d be going with you.”

“I told you, this has to be a solo flight. It’s the principle of the thing.”

The vampire just shook his head. “You have that phone I gave you, true?”

She patted her parka. “Yup.”

“When you’re ready, assuming you live through this, call me and I’ll get you back into the training center.”

“Thank you.” She cleared her throat. “I mean that. And you know, I’m sorry about the windshield.”

“No, you’re not.”

She laughed. “Fine. I’m not. But will you let me pay for the damage?”

“Never.” He looked over at her. “Just don’t get yourself killed and we’ll call it even. Assail won’t make it without you.”

“I won’t make it without him. So don’t worry, I’m not going to fuck up the good thing I got going.”

With that, she closed the passenger-side door. And as she went to her car, she became so relaxed, she floated over the pavement sure as if her feet did not touch the ground.

Then again, she was in the zone with this one.

Revenge…was a dish best served calmly.

SIXTY-TWO

Some eight hundred miles to the south, on a tract of land that was serene and largely uninhabited, emissaries from the King arrived at a destination that knocked their socks off.

As Saxton, the King’s solicitor, re-formed, he looked around and took a deep, easing breath. “Oh, this is beautiful.”

His beloved mate, Ruhn, materialized beside him and echoed his sentiments. “This is…astounding.”

They each reached for the other’s hand at the same time—and then they stayed where they were, letting the gracious landscape sink in. Up ahead, under a fat moon in a balmy sky, a lovely old white house sat at the culmination of an allée of live oaks. With porches on both the first and second floors, and black shutters, and a hip roof, it was a Southern lady of gracious extraction.