Out the front door into the Houston night.
Two blocks. That's all that separates me from Grace.
Two blocks I cover at a dead sprint.
I'm covered in blood—some mine, but most of it isn’t.
Venom's blood is spattered across my chest, my hands.
My knuckles are split and bleeding, but I'm alive.
The truck comes into view—parked where we left it, engine running, headlights on, and then I see her.
Grace is standing outside the truck, Blaze trying to get her back inside, but she's not listening. She's staring down the street, waiting.
Watching for me.
She sees me. Her face transforms—terror melting into relief into joy in the space of a heartbeat. "Shadow!"
She runs.
I catch her halfway, lift her off her feet, bury my face in her hair.
She smells like home. Like safety. Like everything good in this world.
"You're okay, you're okay, you're okay," she's saying, her hands all over me, checking for injuries, touching my face, my chest, my arms. Her fingers come away bloody but she doesn't care.
"I'm okay. It's done. He's dead. Venom's dead. It's over."
Grace is shaking, crying, clinging to me like I might disappear. "You came back. You came back."
"Always." I kiss her—desperate, possessive, claiming. Tasting salt from her tears. "I'll always come back to you."
"I love you. God, I love you so much."
"I love you too."
We're standing in the middle of a Houston street, me covered in the blood of our enemies, her in tears, and I don't care about anything except the fact that she's in my arms.
Phantom and the others emerge from the clubhouse.
Grace sees Phantom and runs to him too.
He catches her in a hug, and I see him close his eyes, just breathing, holding his daughter.
"Is it really over, Dad?" Grace asks, her voice small.
"It's really over, baby girl." Phantom's voice is rough with emotion. "Venom's dead. The threat is gone. You're safe now."
Grace breaks down completely, and Phantom just holds her while she cries out weeks of fear and trauma and terror.
The brothers gather around—Damon, Dixon, Shiver, Banshee, Thunder, Rogue, Blaze, Blight.
Counting heads. Everyone accounted for.
Some injuries—Banshee's got a nasty cut on his arm, one of the Reapers brothers took a bullet to the shoulder, Thunder's limping slightly—but no one died on our side.
Victory.
