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“I can’t do all the work,” Jude protested. “If I’m on cooking duty, someone else should be on cleanup!”

She sighed. “And do you have an explanation for that?” She pointed at Jude’s arm.

I stared at him for half a second before I realized his armband was gone. Because he’d died? Or because he was other now. A non-human variant. But wait—all of our armbands were gone. Any of us touched by Jude’s shield. Wade. Bobby. Remi. Even Ivan, who still clung to his brother as if fearing Jude would turn into a ghost again.

“We’re not human anymore,” I said.

The words hung in the air. Wade looked at his arm, where his band used to be. Bobby stared at his hands. Remi touched his own arm, as if checking for something that wasn’t there.

We weren’t human variants anymore. We were something else. Maybe something new.

Hanna shrugged, having never been human. The thought didn’t mean much to her. But it meant something to us. I was surprised at how much something shifted inside me. I’d spent a lot of my life being told I wasn’t human because I was shifter variant. Now, they were right.

Jude put his hand on my cheek. His palm was warm and solid. “I love you,” he said without hesitation. “All of you.”

I stared at him, stunned, the weight of his words and lack of hesitation warming something deep inside, and I wanted to sink into him, wrap myself around him, and hold on to the end of time. Mate bond, ghost married, whatever, all that mattered was that he was mine.

Jude grinned, reading my face. “What? Too much?”

“Never,” I said, and kissed him.

Hanna sighed, the sound long-suffering and ancient. “Be in my office tomorrow morning.” Her gaze swept over the entire team. “All of you are being moved to new positions.”

Jude pulled back just enough to raise an eyebrow at her. “Pretty sure you don’t get a say in our positions.”

Wade choked on his cookie. Remi cackled. Even Victor snorted.

Hanna stared at him for a long, flat moment, rewarding him with a glare, until he held up his hands in defeat.

“All right, all right. Tomorrow.”

She nodded and walked away, issuing more commands to collect the fallen zombies, and gather evidence.

I watched her go, then turned back to Jude. He was still pressed against my side, still holding my hand, still here, alive, and mine.

We’d survived. We’d won. And whatever came next—new positions, new tears, new nightmares—we’d face it together.

That was enough. That was everything.

51

JUDE

I woke disoriented, to say the least. A quiet snore nearby rather than gunfire, or the chaotic shrieking of animals. I glanced up to find Peanut Butter draped around my head on the pillow, and Angel curled around me from behind. I soaked up the feeling of being the little spoon for a while, heart beating a careful, steady rhythm.

I was alive. We were alive. Together. In our new apartment.

I vaguely recalled arriving in the predawn hours, escorted by a force of cross-the-Veil werewolves directed by Sergeant Hanna. Our building, wrapped in vines like some sort of fairytale had taken it over, shouldn’t have been surprising, but finding Grandpa inside with Peanut Butter to greet us, give tearful hugs, and demand we all rest, had given me a new breath of hope.

Beau had waltzed through the magic door beside our pantry, and everyone else scattered to rooms for sleep. And I’d passed out before Angel had stripped us both, because now in his arms, I wore nothing but boxer briefs. The heat of him wrapped around me felt like heaven, even as he breathed deep and evenly. I didn’t want to wake him, and it took a long exercise in careful movement to extract myself from his embrace and tiptoe to the bathroom to pee and clean up a little.

The apartment was quiet. The light gray haze of the realm beyond the Veil told me little about the time. But since no one was banging on our door to demand our presence, I was going to take advantage of it. I hopped in the shower for a quick rinse, dried off, and found Peanut Butter waiting by the bedroom door to be let out when I stepped out of the bathroom. At least Angel was still asleep, and if Nox was in the room, he left no sign.

I let the cat out, locked the door, and hovered over the bed, staring at the long muscular lines and beautiful bronze skin of my mate.

He looked younger when he slept. Softer, almost, with the hard lines of his resolve smoothed out, the constant tension in his shoulders finally eased. If there was a luckier bastard on the planet than me, I didn’t know him. How could I have landed this hot, loyal man when my existence itself was a patchwork of chaos?

A flood of memories clicked back into place. Things stolen that caused an array of overwhelming emotion. I swallowed, finding it hard to breathe for a long minute as they all arrived with fresh pain that should have long faded. A favor and a curse from the changeling, that it had taken things that added to my trauma.