The Shadows

As he started to kiss her, she found it hard to believe that it was really happening. That he had come back to her. That once parted asunder, they now were cleaved as a single whole.

Pulling away a little, she asked, “You’re sure this is real?”

He shrugged and smiled at her. “Of course it is. You and I were written in the stars. . . .”

With that, he kissed her lips again.

And she kissed him back.

EIGHTY-SEVEN

The meteor shower happened at midnight on the dot.

As Trez stepped free of the mansion’s warmth, and walked some distance past the courtyard and onto the descending drive, he got out of the lee of the exterior security lights, and that was when he looked up and saw the sky clearly.

Against a dense, velvety black and among the pinpricks of bright white stars, a sprinkling of flashes was cast across the sky, like gold dust let loose from an open palm.

He smiled sadly. “Thank you, my queen. I needed this.”

Watching the display, he felt both very alone and totally connected, especially as he reflected on that vastness above.

If anyone ever wanted to sense the infinity of time and existence, all they had to do was look at the night sky and feel their precious dead staring back at them. It was the great duality of union and separation.

It was just as his Selena had told him at the door to the Fade.

He wanted her beside him so badly that he’d woken up again with a wet face and a soggy pillow. But yet he was here, upright in his boots, prepared to somehow figure out how to breathe while the one who had made his lungs work was on the other side.

“I’m going to go now,” he said. “Come with me—”

Trez jumped and spun around.

Sure as he knew there was no one behind him, he could have sworn a gentle hand had rested on his shoulder.

He prayed it was the ghost of his shellan. If it wasn’t, he was probably losing his mind.

Short trip.

Wha-hey.

Closing his eyes, he had to wait a moment for the concentration to come . . . and then he was off, scattering his molecules through the cold, clear autumn night.

When he re-formed, it was in front of Sal’s Restaurant.

He supposed he could have gone around to the back, but no. This was a big night, a kind of reintroduction for him. He would enter through the front.

Going over to the keypad by the glass doors, he entered the code and then opened his way in. Instantly, the old-school Rat Pack decor sank in for him, the red-and-black flocked wallpaper bleeding into his retinas, the he’d-been-here-a-thousand-times sense seemingly both accurate and a lie.

Walking forward, he mounted the couple of steps and went by the hostess stand; then headed past the dining rooms and into the bar area in the back. The flap doors to the kitchen were over on the right, and he took his leather jacket off as he went, leaving it on the bar.

The place was empty as usual on a Monday night.

His clubs were closed, too.

He was going to go to them tomorrow night, though. Because . . . well, that was just what he was going to do.

Unless the Brothers needed him.

Jesus, and he thought he’d owed Rehvenge before? It was nothing compared to what he felt for the Black Dagger Brotherhood and their King.

Anything, anytime for those males.

Forevermore.

He found himself hesitating at the kitchen’s entrance, staring at the pair of doors, both of which had circular windows of Plexiglas in them so that the waitstaff didn’t smack each other around as they carried trays of food in and out.

Putting his palm on the one on the right . . .

 . . . he finally pushed in.

Right away, the smell of his brother’s famous marinara sauce hit his nose—and actually, for the first time since his Selena passed, he felt a pang of hunger.

iAm was facing the stove, stirring a huge pot with a spoon as long as an arm. “. . . proper amount of oregano. It’s mission-critical.”

Over on the left, at the far end of the stainless-steel counter, a small round table had been set up with a linen tablecloth, place settings, and flowers in the middle. And the Queen of the Shadows was sitting at the thing, her head and hair exposed, her beautiful, kind face tilted toward his brother . . . her eyes lit with such devotion and love, Trez took an instant adoration to the female.

She noticed his presence before iAm, Mr. Formerly Silent But Now Chatty Cathy, did.

With a quick flush, her face changed, tension tightening the features, squeezing out her smile.

iAm wheeled around. “Oh, hey, brother, you made it.”

“Ah, yeah.” Trez pushed his hands into the pockets of the jeans he’d worn. “I’m here.”

“Well. Ah, good.” iAm came around, and even though they weren’t normally huggers, he gave a good, hard embrace. “Ah . . . so, yeah. Thanks for coming.”

“Thanks for having me.”

They both looked at the Queen. Who slowly rose to her feet and smoothed down the shimmering robe she wore.

Diamonds. It was covered with a fine mesh of diamonds.

And for a moment, panic fisted Trez’s chest, the sight of those gems set in metal returning him to—