Sadie sat quietly for a moment, then nodded.
“You got a lot going on,” she said softly.
“You begged to be a part of this chaos.”
“I knew what I was doing,” she said. “You were worth it.”
I looked at her, and heat curled low in my stomach.
“You know,” I said, “I got a wife tellin’ me I did the right thing. I got a daughter sleepin’ on my lap. I got a club that is still standin’ after demons and Scorpions and every other pieceof trash that tried to knock us down. I figure I am allowed one selfish thought.”
“And what’s that?” she asked, giving me a knowing smile.
I shifted the baby carefully, sliding her into the crook of my arm. She barely stirred. I kept my voice low.
“Take her,” I said. “Put her in the crib.”
Sadie raised a brow but reached out and lifted the baby with practiced care.
“Where do you want me after that, Mr. President?” she asked, teasing in her tone.
“In the bedroom,” I said. “On the bed. Make sure you’re waitin’ for me with your legs spread.”
Her breath caught. Color rose in her cheeks. Her eyes went darker.
“Yes, sir,” she said quietly.
She leaned down, pressed a soft kiss to my mouth, and then straightened, holding our daughter close as she walked toward the hallway.
I stood, rolled my shoulders once, and followed my woman down the hall. Even with the chaos that surrounded us, I had a sleeping baby, a warm house, and a woman who still chose my bed every night after everything we’d been through. It didn’t get any better than this.
EPILOGUE TWO
GRACE’S POV
Five years later…
The kids were asleep. Our daughter, Evangeline, had curled into her pink blanket and clutched her stuffed black cat like it was a lifeline. Our son, August, snored softly from his crib, arms splayed, tiny chest rising and falling with the innocence of peace. We kept a nightlight on in the hallway now. In case one of them decided to wander down to our bedroom in the middle of the night.
The house was quiet, except for the sound of crickets outside the window. This house was old, and the walls of this place had seen their share of darkness. When Hellsing had asked me to move in with him, I debated it. The house literally sat just past the wrought-iron gates of the old cemetery, tucked away beneath weeping willows and thick cypress, and it was always eerie near that part of the Quarter. But it was close to theMidnight Wytchand not too far from the area where Hellsing worked. It took me a while, but now it’s home.
Our home.
And somehow, the shadows no longer felt dangerous. They felt like guardians.
Peter had taken on work with the church as what they called a hunter of wayward spirits. A man who knew demons by name and knew how to send them back where they came from. Bael hadn’t surfaced in years. Not even a whisper of him. But Peter never let his guard down. He remained watchful. Holy water always sat by our bed, a crucifix at hand if needed, and his book of rites always lay tucked between the mattresses.
I didn’t mind it, especially if it meant it would keep my family safe.
Jameson had struck a deal with Peter, and he still went to Church. They made a seat for him as a type of supernatural consultant, which in fact, they found they needed. More than they thought they would. Especially with what happened with Legion in New York and then Ajax…yeah, let’s just say the Royal Bastards had a tendency to find trouble in and out of this realm of reality.
The good news was that everything had been calm for a while now. My mother didn’t call with premonitions, the shadows didn’t move, peace had settled in our home even though for Peter, that peace came at a price. Hunting demons may very well be his calling, but it took a toll on my exorcist. A hard one.
I padded into the kitchen wearing nothing but one of Peter’s shirts. It hung low over my thighs, his scent still clinging to the collar. The bayou air drifted through the cracked window, thick and warm. I leaned against the counter, sipping a glass of water, letting the silence wrap around me.
That was when I heard the door creak open behind me and I smiled. His boots hit the floor first, then his deep voice with that sexy Louisiana drawl filled the space.
"You walkin' 'round my house like that, cher, you askin' to be ruined."
