Dahlia patted his shoulder. “Thanks. You owe me a car. Make it red.”
She waved at Alastair and his anchor standing in the doorway of their home before tossing her hair over her shoulder and waltzing through the gate, her long legs flashing in her crimson tights and sky-high stilettos.
If Felix thought she was devastating before, it was nothing compared to how she looked to him now.
Snatching her to his chest, he swooped down on her with a ferocious kiss. “I fucking love you,” he gasped, reverent and needy against the welcoming warmth of her mouth.
Her smile curved against his lips. “I love you, too. Now can we go home? We’ve got work to do.”
EPILOGUE
SEPTEMBER 2050 - SAN FRANCISCO, THE ELVISH PROTECTORATE
The flower marketwas an explosion of color, scents, and sound. The air was cool inside the massive warehouse building, saturated with water and all fresh green stems cut with small, sharp knives. Vendors and customers prowled the narrow paths between stalls, dodging massive white buckets full of chrysanthemums and baby’s breath and calla lilies.
Even at midnight, the market was an oasis of life and movement. Day-dwellers weren’t the only ones who needed beauty in their lives, after all.
Dahlia hooked her fingers into Colin’s crooked elbow, a wide, satisfied smile on her face. He hadn’t stopped gushing over the sights since they stepped into the market. Felix and Alastair trailed behind them. When she peeked over her shoulder, she found them deep in discussion — no doubt arguing over when to make their next move now that their legitimate businesses in the Protectorate had begun to turn a profit.
Those two loved to argue almost as much as she and Colin loved to ignore them. She wasn’t sure when it happened, butat some point she noticed neither men appeared to loathe the existence of the other any longer. Instead, their arguments became something of a mutually enjoyable hobby. Kind of like putting on boxing gloves and stepping into the ring instead of starting a bare-knuckle brawl.
It was good for them. In their world, it wasn’t often that they could be totally honest with each other, and finding someone who completely understood Felix’s responsibilities and position was rare. They’d both vigorously deny it, but the men had become something akin to friends.
Felix still wasn’t allowed on Alastair’s new yacht, though.
It was fine. He just bought a bigger one and named itThe Bride.
There was some debate, but she was ninety percent certain that the maiden voyage was when she got pregnant. Felix liked to think it was the week before, when they’d spent some quality time in the pool while the mansion was empty. Either way, they agreed water was involved.
Colin leaned in close to ask, “How are your feet doing?”
“They’re fine,” she answered, deciding not to mention the way her son was currently shoving his elbow into her bladder.
This was the last family business trip they would make before her son arrived. She intended to make the most of it, even if it felt a bit like the baby was doing constant diving elbow drops on her organs.
As annoying as his father,she thought fondly.
Unfortunately, Dahlia was not one of the lucky people for whom pregnancy was a joyous time of reverence for the miracle of what her body was capable of. It’d been miserable from the start.
She hadn’t been able to wear heels in months, her son liked to kick her in the ribs whenever she began to fall asleep, and Felix had been glued to her side like a sexy, blood-suckingbarnacle from the moment the test came back positive. The last several months had been an odyssey of raw physical discomfort and hormones — real nature documentary animal shit, as Luis liked to joke.
To say she was ready for her little Amauri parasite to evacuate his fleshy condo was an understatement.
That was half the reason she’d insisted on the trip to begin with. Not only did they need to check up on their interests in the EVP, but she hoped getting some walking in would help speed things along. Just a little.
“If you need a rest, just say the word. I don’t want you tiring yourself out.”
Dahlia squeezed his arm. “No, Dad. I’m not tired yet, I prom?—”
“Do you need to sit?” Felix’s voice rumbled directly into her ear as his hand settled on the small of her back, applying slight pressure.
“I donot,”she answered, giving all three suddenly very attentive men a withering look. “Alvin said exercise is good, remember? I need to walk.”
Felix muttered under his breath, “What does he know?”
“Hush.”
Alastair sidled up beside Colin, the silver tip of his cane clicking against the concrete floor strewn with bits of bruised greenery. It was an old war injury, he’d confessed to her one night after dinner with the Bowans. He’d gotten it fighting along the border of what would become the Neutral Zone in the middle of the war, and it was that injury that brought Colin, a field medic, into his life.
