Considine tossed aside his crumpled third pouch. “Idolike you, Orrin,” he declared as he held his hand out. “It appears you stuck close to Jade in my absence in addition to bringing me a potion? You’d make a good minion. Very well, I’ll break my rule to avoid responsibility for others and request custody of you. You can live with me—if you promise to cast additional shield spells on Jade’s apartment on a weekly basis.”
Orrin uncorked the potion, then passed it to Considine. “I vow it.”
“Good minion.” Considine toasted Orrin with the bottle, then chugged the potion, drinking it faster than he’d drunk the third blood pouch.
I observed the exchange with a stupid smile, and mentally agreed with Considine. Orrin was incredible. Genius, even. Before I could tell him this, Considine finished the potion.
He swished the last mouthful like mouthwash, swallowed, then smiled at me. “Do my minty breath and I pass the ick test?”
Too impatient to waste time on words, I stood on my tiptoes again and pressed my lips to Considine’s.
I leaned into him with desperation, clutching the collar of his wrinkled uniform with both hands. I tried to pack the kiss with everything I couldn’t say right now—how much I loved him, how his absence had been a hole in my chest, and that I was never going to shy away from him again.
The sudden kiss shocked Considine—he was motionless for three whole heartbeats.
Then he shifted, dropping the potion bottle so he could wrap his arms around me as he molded his lips to mine.
His cooler lips were refreshing against mine since my face had heated up with my tears, and I tasted the mint flavor of Grove’s potion on his lips.
Considine cradled me as if he was afraid I’d try to step away, but he didn’t need to. I was content to stay right where I was, forever.
Someone—one of my great aunts most likely—wolf whistled at us.
My shoulders shook with silent laughter. The happiness of finding Considine and knowing he was okay, the exhilarating sensation of our kiss, and the joy that my family had supported me in recovering him was too much to contain.
Considine broke our kiss, but stayed so close to me his lips still brushed mine when he spoke. “I might have neglected to ask, you weren’t trying to hide our relationship from the other slayers, were you?”
“No,” I said. “I did a slide show presentation with pictures when I called the stake to prove I wasn’t insane.”
“Good,” Considine said. “Very good.”
Considine’s nearness created an effervescent feeling within me, but I was finally assured that he was okay, so I let my slayer training kick in and leaned back from Considine. “We should get out of here.”
Considine sighed. “Ahh, yes. Time for another fight.”
“Oh, no.” I shook my head. “We’re backed by slayers—today you get to experience everything that entails.” I stepped out of his arm but took his hand so I could tug him along.
“Oh?” Considine raised an eyebrow, but he let me lead him.
“Yes,” I said. “You and I will walk out of here—the stake will clear the way.” I cleared my throat, then shouted. “Ready to exit!”
“Ready to exit,” Mom echoed.
Dad headbutted a dryad, then spoke into the walkie-talkie. “Ready for exit, Backup Team, you’re on!”
As Considine and I approached my family—Orrin a few steps behind us—they parted, effortlessly pushing the guards back and deploying a few flash-bangs for the fun of it.
There was a thud on the roof, before the glass skylights shattered.
Twelve slayers wearing gas masks rappelled down through the open skylights, tossing fae potions and tear gas grenades onto the walkway of the second floor.
They landed, glass crunching under their boots, and fell into position.
All slayer teams converged, creating a long walkway that stretched all the way to the shipping door I’d entered the factory through.
I squeezed Considine’s hand, and we walked—completely unhindered—through the middle of the fight.
Considine laughed as a slayer drone zoomed overhead. One of the backup team slayers aimed a light-based gun at a pair of vampires and shot a disorientating laser light at them, haltingthem in their tracks. My Great Uncle Patrick shot what was likely an illegal heat ray at a naiad who’d been half drowning another slayer.
