More scoffing from the peanut gallery.
Rossi grinned. “Since you’re here, I’d like to make an official request.”
“Okay?”
“I prefer winter weddings.”
“Nope.”
“And not in a church—too stuffy, if you know what I mean.”
“Not listening.” I had the door open.
“Maybe serve those little shrimp cocktail things?”
“Or sushi,” Leon called out.
“Gluten free, certainly,” Rossi went on, “O positive preferred, so I hope you’ll run a keto-friendly blood drive to stock up.”
“Good bye, Rossi. I sure hope a ghoul doesn’t eat you alive.” I slammed the door on his cackling and stomped down the steps to my Jeep.
It was fully dark now, the air wet and salty and clean. I paused and took a deep breath, staring up at the sky where a scatter of stars glittered like ice in moonlight. The wind sifted through trees and brush, and I suddenly thought: this had been my home for all my life. These had been my stars, this had been my wind.
This would always be my home. I understood that when I took up being the Bridge for god powers. I knew I would live no other place than here and took solace in the security of it.
Ryder and I had managed to sneak off for a quick vacation a few months ago. It had been strange to leave this place for so long but after a day or so, it had been wonderful not to worry about everything in Ordinary. Not to worry about everyone.
I knew getting married wouldn’t change how I looked after our town. But it would change something in me. I didn’t know what that was, since I’d never been married, but that commitment, which I’d already given once when I committed my whole soul to this town, frightened me.
“You think it’s safe to be out here all alone?”
I glanced down and searched for the owner of that familiar voice.
A shadow shifted near the dense line of Sitka spruce and stepped toward me.
“I’m not alone. There’s a bunch of vampires who can hear us. You spying on me, Crow?”
“No, just following you around.”
I grinned. “Need a lift?”
He stopped on the other side of the Jeep. “Telling the Rossis about the monster hunter or the ghoul?”
“Both.”
“How’d they take it?”
“Didn’t even look away from the game.”
“They’re watching a game?”
“Playing one. Complicated-looking board game with a bunch of pieces and dice.”
“Those bastards,” he said. “They’re having a game night and didn’t invite me? I love games!”
“You love cheating at games.”
“Damn right I do, and I do not appreciate them taking that away from me.” He started toward the house, and I was pretty sure he was just putting on a show, but in case he wasn’t I grabbed his arm.
