“Reginald is so pleased to have you back.” Alaric sets down his empty goblet. “He loves having someone to cook for. You know that when he found out you left, he yelled at me.”
“I don’t believe it.” Reginald has never raised his voice above a polite murmur.Never.
“It’s true. He called me a most colourful assortment of names, none of which can be repeated in the company of a lady.” Alaric’s tongue lashes against his lower lip, licking up a droplet of blood. “It was his idea to give you the key to Black Crag. He always believed you’d come back. He even helped me clean out the priesthole. Well, most of it.”
“Most of it?” A familiar worry stabs my chest. I don’t want surprises when piles of stuff are concerned.
“Yes. We decided to save this.” Alaric reaches into his pocket and pulls out a fist. “I made it in my forge.”
He unfolds from his chair, and as he stalks across the rug towards me there’s something of the predator in his eyes. But then he drops to his knees in front of me, holding out his hand.
He unfolds his long fingers to reveal a ring.
I gasp, my usual reaction to anything when Alaric is involved. The ring isperfect. It has a rough, organic surface, and the gold bears the deep lustre of age. A large, blood-red ruby in the rough shape of a heart sits at the centre.
I tear my eyes from the stone to look at Alaric. The firelight bathes his high cheekbones, his alabaster skin and the firm line of his mouth. The black depths of his eyes reach inside me – deep and sharp and hard as anthracite, creating a perch for the butterflies that never seem to stop dancing when he’s near me.
“A wise person told me once that I should be more vulnerable.” His lip quirks a little. “That no matter how high I built my castle walls, someone would tear them down. That someone was you, Winnie. You sieged straight into my heart and razed those walls to dust, and I laid down my arms and let you do it because I didn’t even realise how desperately I wanted to be free. I have everything I ever dared to wish for and more, all because of you, and all I want is to give you everything you deserve. You told me once that your intention for your life is to allow yourself to be happy. And I hope, I wish, that maybe, you could be happy with me, as my wife.”
My heart and my lips answer at the same time. “Hell yes!”
I fall into him and he falls into me and we’re hugging and kissing and crying and laughing and it’sperfect. He pulls me down onto the rug with him, rolling me beneath him, pressing the hard planes of his body against mine as he slots the ring onto my finger, and I can’t believe he’s mineforever.
Forever is along time, but I’m ready.
“Patrick was working for the Sanctus Estate?” Isis shrieks. “That connects him to Danny. They were both getting their necks sucked, and they both knew vampires existed. How did we not know this?”
I’m back in my favourite beanbag, munching on one of Celeste’s red velvet cupcakes with a mug of tea in my other hand, while Beth tries in vain to get everyone to try one of her cordyceps-infused wheatgrass jellies. The ladies of the Nevermore Murder Club and Smutty Book Coven are spread out around me, enjoying two of their favourite pastimes – discussing a supernatural mystery and teasing each other mercilessly as only good friends can.
And now they’remyfriends. I can’t believe how lucky I am.
“It hardly matters,” Arabella says. “We caught the killer.”
“Itdoesmatter, because even if Baylor killed Patrick, Claire’s email tells us someone on the Sanctus Estate was drinking from him without his consent,” Dora says. “Maybe we can’t trust this Gideon Blake.”
“I don’t trust anyone with the name Gideon,” Arabella thrusts her nose in the air. “That name has been ruined forever for me.”
“Ex-boyfriend?” Komal smirks.
“Something like that.”
“I can’t believe it never occurred to me that Patrick could be connected to the estate,” I say. “Patrick’s work was making bespoke windows, and of course a vampire property development would require special sun-resistant glass.”
“I don’t blame you, Winnie. You were distracted by the hot vampire lord.” Isis glares at Maisie. “Somepeople, whose literal job it is toinvestigate, should have uncovered that information.”
Our resident gumshoe throws up her hands in mock surrender. “Patrick’s firm wasn’t going to release information about his clients to the press. And we caught the murderer, remember?”
“Yes, but if someone at Sanctus is hiring humans to work on the estate, using them as food, and at least two of those humans have ended up husked, we shouldprobably investigate.”
“I know!” Isis pipes up. “One of us gets a job there and seduces Gideon into telling them the truth. I vote Beth.”
“Excuse me?” Beth glares at Isis. “Why me? What about you?”
“I’m too important.” Isis puffs out her chest. “I’m the psychic. My skills are needed elsewhere. The only skill you bring to the table is pole dancing, which will come in handy for the seduction?—”
I shake my head. “We’re not using humans as vampire bait again.”
“Sanctus are looking for buyers for the remaining houses, right?” Maisie says. “Someone who lived there could get right up close to the action and figure out what’s going on.”
