“I did as an angel. Now I get to learn to dance like a human who’s completely, utterly in love with the most amazing man in the world.”
The words made me warm from head to toe. “I love you too. Human you. Angel you. Whatever version of you exists, I love him.”
“Good,” Eamon said, bringing my hand to his lips to press a soft kiss to my knuckles. “Because you’re stuck with human me for the next fifty or sixty years, assuming I age gracefully.”
“Even if you don’t age gracefully. Even if you go completely bald and get a beer belly and start complaining about your joints.”
“Careful what you promise,” Eamon warned with a grin. “I might hold you to that.”
“I hope you do.”
We drove through the night toward home, toward our future, toward a life that would be completely ordinary and absolutely perfect. I had a thousand more questions—abouthis angelic memories, about what he’d miss most about immortality, about whether he’d ever regret this choice—but they could wait.
Right now, I just wanted to sit beside the man I loved as he drove us toward our happily ever after, one perfectly human mile at a time.
THIRTY
EAMON
I’d faced down demons, corrupt humans, and supernatural entities that would make most people soil themselves, but standing in Charles’s kitchen watching him fuss over the roast beef made my stomach clench with nerves.
“Relax,” Charles said without looking up from where he was checking the potatoes. “They’re going to love you.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I do, actually.” He glanced at me with that smile that still made my knees weak, even a week after becoming human. “Because I love you, and they love me, and they want me to be happy. It’s simple math.”
Simple math. Right. If only three centuries of existence had taught me that human relationships followed mathematical principles.
“Hand me that serving dish,” Charles said, nodding toward the cabinet behind me. “And stop looking like you’re about to face a firing squad. They’re just my parents.”
Just his parents. The two people whose opinion of me would shape every family gathering, holiday, and milestone for the rest of our mortal lives together. No pressure at all.
I passed him the dish and tried to focus on something useful. “What can I do?”
“You can set the table and pour wine, and maybe tell me something interesting about your day that isn’t related to our dinner guests.”
My day had been spent doing very human things—grocery shopping, calling the sheriff’s department about their deputy position, trying to figure out how to operate Charles’s washing machine without accidentally flooding the basement. The mundane reality of mortality was both more complex and more satisfying than I’d expected.
“Sheriff Morrison wants to interview me next week,” I said, arranging place settings with probably more precision than necessary. “Seems my NYPD experience impressed him.”
“Of course it did. You’ve got more law enforcement experience than anyone in a fifty-mile radius.” Charles pulled the roast from the oven, and the scent filled the kitchen with warmth. “Not that you can tell him about most of it.”
“The official version is impressive enough.” Thanks to Gabriel’s thorough work, Detective Eamon O’Rourke had an exemplary service record with the NYPD, complete with commendations and case histories that would withstand any background check. “Ten years on the force, specialized in organized crime, decorated officer looking for a quieter life in a small town.”
“And the real version?”
“Three hundred and twenty-two years of keeping humans safe from things that go bump in the night, recently retired due to falling in love with a baker who makes the best apple turnovers in the Hudson Valley.”
Charles laughed, the sound bright and warm in the cozykitchen. “I think the official version might be easier to explain to my parents.”
The doorbell rang, and my stomach dropped to somewhere around my ankles.
“Breathe,” Charles said, squeezing my shoulder as he passed. “It’s going to be fine.”
I followed him to the front door, trying to project confidence I didn’t feel. Meeting the parents was a distinctly human milestone I’d observed countless times but had never experienced myself.
Charles opened the door to reveal a couple in their early sixties, both of them carrying the kind of warmth that immediately made you feel welcome. Charles’s father was tall and lean with work-roughened hands and eyes the same warm brown as his son’s. His mother was petite and energetic, with graying hair and a smile that could power the entire town grid.
