To Dance With the Devil (Blood Singer #6)

To Dance With the Devil (Blood Singer #6) Page 51

I finished before everyone else. There hadn’t been a lot of suitable food choices on the menu, and I wanted to get on the road. Kevin came up as I was paying the bill. He walked me out to the parking lot to wait as the mechanic brought out my SUV but didn’t say anything until he was sure we were alone.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“No,” I admitted. “But I will be.”

He stared at me for a long moment. “Yeah, you will. You’ve changed, you know, these past couple of years. You’ve grown up. Before the vampire bite, you’d never have been able to make the hard choices.”

“It sucks.”

“Yeah, it does.” His gaze locked with mine, his expression more serious than I’d ever seen it. “Emma tells me that two of the warlocks survived. And that they escaped.”

I didn’t want to think about that right now. I knew I needed to, but I just didn’t have the heart for it. I knew he could hear it in my voice when I said, “So they tell me.”

“Do you want me to track them?”

Once upon a time Kevin had been a field operative for the Company. His specialty was hunting “hard targets,” the worst of the worst. He was offering to do that again, for me, despite the fact that his PTSD was severe enough to require an assistance dog. He’d do it, too.

I stared at him, dumbfounded. Was it friendship that prompted the offer? Or was it something else? My gran had told me that men will fulfill a siren’s needs, even to their doom. Chris had flown me into the middle of a war zone and jumped out of that helicopter because I needed backup. Kevin was offering to do for me what he’d done for the Company. Maybe out of friendship. Then again, maybe not. My vampire side had intensified after being left on the beach. Had my siren side been affected as well? I couldn’t know without checking with my great-aunt, or maybe El Jefe, Kevin’s father, Warren. But I knew one thing for certain: I was a siren. Influencing men was something I could do—but only if I let myself.

“No, I don’t think so. Not this time.”

He shook his head sadly and his shaggy blond hair fell slightly over his blue eyes. It was a boyish look, but his words weren’t boyish. They were deadly serious. “You screwed up their plans, Celia. You. Nobody else. They’re not going to forget or forgive.”

He was right. I knew it. That Davis and the other man had gotten away was most likely going to bite me in the ass hard somewhere down the line. But it didn’t matter. Kevin was my friend. I was not sending him up against these people. Not now. Not ever. There had to be another way to stop them. I would just have to find it.

I climbed into the cab of the SUV, feeling old and tired. My whole body hurt. Worse, my heart ached. So much had happened in the past few days. I needed some time alone to think and absorb it all. I rolled down the window to ask Kevin one last question.

“Are you really going to mentor Michelle?”

He grimaced. “It’s traditional. If you turn someone, you’re responsible for training her until she can control herself. When she’s ready, I’ll introduce her to a friend of mine who’s the leader of a pack.” He could tell from the expression on my face how I was feeling. “Don’t feel bad. It’s all right. I don’t mind. You made the right choice.”

If I had, then why did I feel so crappy about it?

“You’re just tired. Go home. Get some rest.”

“Maybe you’re right.” I turned the key in the ignition and the truck’s engine roared to life. “Good-bye, Kevin.”

“Good-bye. Be careful driving home.”

“I will.”

He stood in the parking lot watching as I drove away.

I thought about Jack Finn. I’d let him live. Had it been a mistake? Maybe. I didn’t know. I’d done it because I’d thought I needed to, but he was a bad man, a killer who was probably only slightly better than his father had been. I thought about Connor Finn. We’d had quite the dance, he and I. I lived, he died, but his ghost was out there, a powerful, violent shade. There is only so much harm a ghost could do, but I’d no doubt he’d manage every bit of it given the chance. And there wasn’t one damned thing I could do about it.

Thinking of ghosts brought memories of my sister. I missed Ivy. On the drive home, it really hit me. Usually during a long drive she’d provide the air-conditioning, mess with the radio, and draw hearts in frost on the driver’s-side window. That would never happen again. She might be better off. I wasn’t sure I was.

I turned on the radio, determined not to wallow in self-pity anymore. We’d won, damn it. Michelle was alive. The prison wards were back up. The bad guys’ plans were foiled. We’d won. I hit the search button. The first channel it found was a disco station. The classic notes of Donna Summer’s “I Will Survive” blasted out of the speakers.

It made me laugh. There were tears in my eyes, but the laughter was real, too. Turning up the volume, I sang along, belting out the words I’d learned from listening to the punk version. After that I felt better, enough better that I had a brainstorm. I hit the button to make a couple of hands-free calls, first to Dawna and then Emma.

“Celia, I just left the restaurant,” Emma said. “I’m on my way to visit Matty in the hospital. What’s up?”

“You’re moving to Seattle, right? With your husband.”

If it was possible to hear someone blush, I did. There was a short, embarrassed pause. “You caught that, huh.”

“Yup. What happened to all that pre-Cana stuff the Catholics do?”

“Since Matty was going to be risking death to work the magic, the bishop gave us a dispensation. He married us himself yesterday morning.”

“Congratulations! That’s awesome.” It was. I was so happy for the two of them. They were perfect together.

“Yeah, well, we haven’t told his mom yet.”

My happiness stuttered a little. Isabella has very strong opinions about big church weddings; I knew that from my previous engagement to Bruno.

“Fingers crossed it will be all right.”

“You betcha.”

“Is that why you called?”

“Yes and no. I had an idea.” I was smiling so big I was pretty sure she could hear it in my voice.

“Oh?”

“We’d have to clear the zoning, but what do you think about Dawna and me putting our offices in your place?”

“I think that would be wonderful! And I’m going to be the one who springs for our time at the spa with Dawna. No arguments.”

“And here I thought that trip would be a good engagement present.”

“Nope. You’ll have to find something else. This one’s on me.”

EPILOGUE

I slept all the rest of that day and met with Gwen on Wednesday. We talked about a lot of things. I felt better after. Isaac would be fine soon. Fred and Dottie were both fine. The bad guys were thwarted. John and I were on speaking terms again. I was getting used to the idea of living without Ivy. The only dark spot was my mother. But I was starting to get a handle on that. Just in time, too. I caught a flight to Serenity on Thursday morning.

Gran had seen the news and the press releases about what had gone down at the Needle. Everything had been edited severely so as not to cause panic. They couldn’t totally hush it up; after all, the light show once the veils had fallen had been visible for miles, and the quakes and aftershocks had affected millions of people.

When she saw me, Gran hugged me hard, holding me close and telling me she loved me and was proud of me. She said she liked my hair and that I looked great with blue eyes. I was glad I’d come. I’d needed this, needed her faith in me to help cleanse me of my guilt and self-doubt.

We had a lovely dinner together at her place. Queen Lopaka and Gunnar Thorsen stopped by. She was hugely pregnant. He was just huge. It made me smile to see how protective he was of her. In all, it was a great day, very healing. By the end of the night I was almost my old self again.

Friday—not so much.

My mother refused to see me.

I wasn’t surprised that she turned me away, but I was surprised that it didn’t hurt all that much. I was more resigned than angry about it. She’ll do what she does. I can’t control it, but I don’t have to play along.

So while Gran was at the prison, Baker and I did a little exploring in the city. I found a great tattoo artist who thought he could fix the damage to my ivy tattoo.

Friday night I flew back to the mainland. I had the big spa weekend to attend.

I took a sip of my margarita and glanced down at my leg, stretched out on a chaise longue in the shade. The new tat looked great. I felt good about that. In fact, I felt pretty good in general.

There were more of us here than I had originally planned, but it was a good group. Dawna and Emma were splashing around in the pool. Dottie was with Gilda in the hot tub. Baker … well, Baker was sticking pretty close to me. I had a strong suspicion that there was a gun hidden in the towel next to her lounge chair. I was okay with that. I had one in my towel, too.

I know the bad guys are going to come after me. But I’ll be ready when they do. And I won’t be facing them alone. I have friends.