We didn’t speak much on the way back, but when I tried to squirm my way out of his arms to fly myself home, he tightened his grip and shook his head.

  “Allow me. It is rare I have the opportunity to battle and escort a beautiful woman home on the same night.”

  I opened my mouth to protest, but when I saw his jaw tighten, I relented, relaxing in his arms.

  Alistair’s eyes crinkled at the edges, and he climbed higher and higher until my hair was damp from flying through cloud cover. My stomach dove when he swooped to avoid a flock of birds.

  He chuckled, gathering me closer.

  “Let me know if I get too heavy.”

  He rolled his eyes. “I am the Dragon Emperor, woman.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” I groused. “So strong and manly.”

  We were about five minutes away when Alistair spoke again. “I am sorry about your wolf.”

  “Me too.” Tears gathered in my eyes. “It wasn’t right, though. I knew it from the beginning.”

  “It doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt when it ends.”

  How right he was. “I avoided relationships for thousands of years. It was the smart thing to do, but I don’t know if it was right. Hiding my identity took up all my time and energy, and bringing someone into that life didn’t seem fair.”

  “You never wanted to unburden yourself? Let someone else share your secret?”

  “A couple of times, but I always chickened out.”

  Alistair’s teeth flashed in the darkness. “Sometimes we become our secrets.”

  I had. I’d become Violet Swan and buried Ignasia so deep I almost forgot about her.

  “If you could do it all over again, would you do it the same way?”

  I looked up in surprise. “You know…as lonely as it was, I think I would. Betrayal led me to Lucifer and my mom. Clara. Easton. You.”

  His grip tightened. “I have been resistant to apologizing.”

  I snorted. “Alistair. Master of the Understatement.”

  “I have ruled many years. Kings and queens, Emperors and Dictators, have to be sure about their decisions, otherwise they will be crippled by doubt. It was the only way forward I saw.”

  “You could have talked to me. I admit I was afraid for so long, but I don’t see my wings as a curse. I see them as a gift. Even though they came from someone I hate, they are part of me. My heritage is mixed and not completely in a good way, but you can’t choose your genetics. But you can choose the family you choose to be with.”

  “You are fortunate to have so many people who love you.”

  I fell silent for a moment as I mulled his words. Sadness had etched his words. “Don’t you?” I ventured.

  “Not freely,” he admitted. “Even my mother takes advantage of my position. I have to be constantly aware of ploys and machinations.”

  His words made my heart ache. “Have you ever thought of giving it up?”

  He jerked, our trajectory tilting left for a moment before he straightened.

  “It’s not that easy.” His voice was strained, and he didn’t meet my eyes.

  “Isn’t it?” I questioned. “You have many people jockeying for your position, don’t you?”

  Alistair flew in silence for a minute. “I suppose I do.” He sounded almost wondrous. “I fend off assassination attempts at least twice a week.”

  I went completely still in his arms before, “Whaaaaat?”

  He laughed, but the sound was more sad than funny. “It is not easy living among dragons.”

  I remembered every interaction I had with the former king of New Orleans and had to agree. If Alistair had to put up with even a tenth of what I did, then I didn’t blame him for his loneliness. It wasn’t self-imposed. It was necessary.

  “I would never encourage you one way or another. Lucifer rules. I am merely a bartender, but I’ve found what it is to be happy, and I don’t think I’d give it up.”

  Alistair tilted his head down, his expression thoughtful. “You always underestimate yourself. Violet, you are so much more than a bartender. You are the heart of this entire thing. Your father wishes to subjugate us. You wish to keep us free. There is no more honorable position than freedom.”

  He sighed and swooped in a circle around Swan’s. We’d arrived, and I realized neither of us wanted to land. Once we did, things would go back to…whatever they were before.

  Reality, I guess. We wouldn’t be enemies. We never were, but things were strained between us. I wasn’t looking forward to going back to that again.

  “Alistair?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Are we friends?”

  His flight pattern lurched again.

  I laughed. “I’m serious. We are friends, aren’t we?”

  “I suppose we’ve never defined our relationship. Not exactly.”

  “Besides your maddening insistence of us being mates,” I said dryly.

  Alistair did not respond to that. His expression tightened.

  I lay still in his arms. “Alistair?”

  “Yes. Friends,” he said quickly. “I am honored to be your friend.”

  “Then I accept your apology. I hope we can move on from this…whatever this was between us.”

  He sighed. “Yes. I would very much like that.” Alistair looked down, his amber eyes glowing. “Perhaps we can wipe the slate between us clean. Maybe we can remember the things we’ve done for each other and forget the hurts we’ve caused each other.”

  “I would like that very much.”

  His attention jerked to the ground. Those beautiful eyes flashed. “Someone awaits you below.” His jaw tightened, and he made one final circle before landing in the parking lot close to the bar. Alistair set me down gently, his wings circling me for a moment before he opened them. I stepped away from him, smiled, and opened my mouth to speak.

  “It looks like you’ve had an interesting evening,” Easton said.

  I spun and saw the wolf leaning against the entrance to Swan’s. His arms were crossed over his lean chest. He wore a black and blue flannel shirt and blue jeans with dark brown work boots. His eyes flashed violet.

  “Hello, Easton.” My voice remained neutral.

  “Violet.” He pushed away from the wall and sauntered over to me, his lean form moving with a smooth grace.

  “Farewell, Violet,” Alistair said. He touched two fingers to his lips and took to the air, the only sign he was there a cool touch of wind as he rose into the night sky.

  Easton’s gaze flicked up to him and back to me. “Did you get what you came for?”

  “I haven’t spoken to Storm yet. We brought back a few vampires, but that’s all.”

  He nodded. “Good.”

  The sounds of Bourbon Street filtered over to us—live music, the smell of fried food, the feeling of voluntary debauchery and letting go. I inhaled it all and thought for the hundredth time how much I loved this city.

  “Why are you here?” I asked.

  Easton flinched. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

  I watched him. “I don’t know how to do this,” I admitted. “I want us to be friends, but I don’t know how to do that. I don’t know if you hate me or if you never want to see me again…” I trailed off. “This is all new to me.”

  His eyes softened. “I could never hate you.” Easton looked away. “You were right. We aren’t right for each other, but it doesn’t have to mean we’re enemies.”

  I took a deep breath. “I could never hate you,” I whispered.

  He opened his arms. I stepped into his embrace, leaning my face against his chest. “I’m so sorry.”

  His chest rumbled. “Don’t apologize to me. Sometimes things don’t work out. It doesn’t mean either party is wrong.”

  We stood that way for a while until I pulled away. “Want to come in?”

  He shook his head. “No. I smell a bunch of vamps in there. They won’t know what to do with an Alpha.”

  I smiled. “They won’t know what to do with the Devil either.”

  We shared a smile.

  “Promise to keep me informed,” he implored.

  “Of course,” I promised.

  "There's something else." He looked down and toed a small rock on the concrete. I knew what he was about to say.

  "It's okay. I expected it. There's no reason to have that thread anymore, so it's best if we let it go." He'd lied about it the entire time, though I hadn't realized he knew how to get rid of it all along. Another checkmark in the I should ask more questions category of my life.

  His shoulders slumped. "I'm sorry."

  "Me too." I could choose to eviscerate him for the decisions that led us down this road, though I'd have to take my own behavior into account as well, or I could let this one go. I didn't hate him—the opposite, in fact. We needed each other, at least until this mess was over.

  Neither of us was perfect. Easton did what he did to keep tabs on me, things a male shifter does to a female shifter mate. He thought I'd fall in line and accept his behavior as his due right.

  It, among other things, had slowly torn us apart. A rip here, a rip there, until finally the entire thing fell apart and neither of us realized what was happening until it was too late.

  He reached out and touched my shoulder. The thread between us flared bright. Howling wolves and moonlit nights rolled through my veins. Cool wind brushed against my hair as I ran on all fours, racing alongside Easton's pack mates. Tears sprang to my eyes at the feeling of complete and total freedom—something I've never had in my entire life.

  And suddenly, with another flare of light, it was gone, the thread between us extinguished like it had never existed.

  I stood silent for a long moment, mourning its loss.

  Easton lowered his hand and stepped in closer, wrapping his arms around me. I rested my head against his chest and breathed in his wild scent. “Take care of yourself,” he said gruffly.

  “You too.”

  In a flash of violet light, Easton stepped away and shifted, bounding away into the New Orleans night.

  I watched the darkness for a while before shaking my head and heading into Swan’s.

  chapter

  seventeen

  The atmosphere shifted a little with all the new vamps in attendance, but the tension didn’t last long. Most of them were Clara’s people after all, and Clara had an odd way of ingratiating herself into any situation and coming out of it with either glorious mayhem or brand-new friends. Yours truly being the best example of it.

  A few tequila shots and some good music choices, from Gary, of course, and most of the Swan’s clientele had bonded.

  I pulled myself a cold one and wandered over to Lucifer’s table where he sat with Mom.

  “Thanks,” I said by way of greeting.

  Lucifer nodded. “Interesting vampires you brought back. One of them is not like the others.”

  “Yeah,” I agreed. “No idea who the redhead belongs to.”

  Lucifer slid his gaze over to the dance floor where the redhead was boogying down to Fiona Apple. “She isn’t familiar to me, but she pulses with a strange power. Do you sense it?”

  I groaned. “I’m too tired to sense anything right now. I’ll think about it tomorrow.”

  Mom laughed. “Fair enough.” She jerked her head toward the portal to Hell. “Storm took a break. He said he’d debrief you soon.”

  “Oh?” I took a long pull of beer. “He found something?”

  Her mysterious smile told me nothing. “He will tell you soon.”

  I sighed. “Fine. Did anyone check on Clara while I was gone?”

  “Same,” Lucifer said.

  I couldn’t tell them what happened tonight. There were too many ears around. “I might have news on that front, too,” I said.

  Lucifer’s eyes lightened. “Oh?”

  “Let me just say it was an interesting night.”

  He grinned. “I like hearing those words. Interesting is much better news than how it could have gone.”

  “True,” I acknowledged. “Though Clara might be really pissed about the roof.”

  Mom barked a laugh. “Did anyone get out alive?”

  We all remembered the dragon’s keep.

  “Not everyone, but it wasn’t a repeat if that’s what you’re asking.”

  “Good,” Mom said.

  We sipped our drinks in silence and watched everyone dancing.

  “It’s almost over,” Lucifer said. “Are we ready for that?”

  I slid my gaze his way. He wasn’t quite the same after his captivity and possessed a darker, edgier grace than before. He was less tolerant of others and quicker to judge. I couldn’t blame him, but it saddened me.

  “I’m ready for the world to return to balance,” I said. “No one should have that much power.”

  “There are many questions left unanswered,” Mom chimed in.

  “Like where’s God?” I asked dryly. “We could sure use His help.”

  Mom snorted.

  Lucifer gave her a look.

  “What?” I asked, feeling like I was the butt of a joke. “He’s been missing this entire time! Michael wouldn’t have gathered so much power if God had been monitoring things, right?”

  Lucifer rubbed a hand over his eyes, his expression weary. “The truth is complicated,” he admitted.

  I said nothing for a long moment. “You know where God is, don’t you?”

  “It’s not that easy,” Mom said

  I threw my hands up. “Why can’t it just be that easy for once?” I growled. “Why can’t God just wake up and be like, hey! What the fuck? And bring a hammer down on his errant kids, and we can all go back to normal?!”

  Mom and Lucifer exchanged concerned glances. I waved my finger at them. “Oh no! You don’t get to do that cryptic shit where you look at each other and exchange non-verbal messages, and I go to bed wondering what the hell you’re talking about! Nope! Tell me. Now.”

  Neither one of them said a word.

  I snorted and drained the rest of my beer. “Figures.”

  “It’s not that easy,” Mom said.

  I sent her a dark look. “You just said that.”

  She sighed with exasperation. “Az did you a disservice,” she said.

  I stilled, anger boiling through my veins. “What.”

  Mom eyed me. “Violet, I am not insulting Az. He did what he had to do. I’m just saying maybe he told you some things to get you to stop asking questions rather than slowly easing you into the truth.”

  I sat my beer glass down with a loud clack. “Oh? And where were you?” I sneered, rising from my seat. “Where were you with this wise guidance while I was hiding under fucking rocks and freezing in caves trying to avoid the Archangels who would have known right away what I was and would have murdered me where I stood?”

  I wasn’t being fair. Not even a little bit.

  But I was exhausted. And lonely. And angry. I wanted this to be over, and I wanted to go back to being a bartender and a part-time librarian of the wonderful books I had stored on the shelves of Swan’s.

  “Violet,” Mom began.

  “I don’t want to hear it,” I whispered, turning to head upstairs. I just wanted to collapse on my bed and drown out the events of the last several weeks.

  Mom didn’t come after me. I pounded up the stairs and into my apartment. Once the doors closed behind me and blissful silence filled my head, I leaned against the door and let out a long breath. Almost over.

  I could be dead in two weeks. Me and everyone I loved.

  The thought of it brought tears to my eyes.

  I was more powerful than ever, and I still doubted I could beat my father. He was the Archangel of Justice, and I was just…me.

  I dropped my shawl onto the kitchen table and headed for Clara’s room.

  She lay still and unmoving, an artist’s rendition of grief. I settled beside her and took her hand and bent over her, pressing it to my cheek.

  “I’m so confused,” I confessed. “And angry. And sad. And…” I sighed. “I’m all fucked up. I wish you were here.”

  No one else was here, so I moved the blankets aside and got in next to her, slinging an arm over her waist and snuggling against her. She’d love this shit if she were awake. I snorted and pushed my hair away from my face.

  “Shut it,” I muttered, not knowing if she could hear me or not. “I got used to you and you aren’t here with me right now, so this is the closest I can get to spending time with you.”

  Clara didn’t respond.

  Seconds later, the first tear fell from my eyes.

  chapter

  eighteen

  Clara

  Clara felt Violet's warmth and grief, pressed against her like a poultice. She’d done this to her, but Clara knew her well enough to know Violet thought she had no choice.

  Maybe she hadn't.

  Everything in her head had felt fuzzy for weeks now. Someone was trying their best to get into her head, to scramble her signals and make her think Violet was her enemy and Michael was her friend.

  Fat fucking chance of that happening.

  Clara had tried her best to fight, but she knew she was losing.

  Violet had known, too.

  So here she was in this weird stasis between life and death with her best friend grieving her. If Clara could cry, she would. She longed to reach out and pull Violet closer, to whisper into her hair everything would be alright, but even Clara didn’t know if it would be.

  Nothing had ever pulled her like this, so far away from the light. She hovered closer to the abyss now than she ever had before. Part of her wanted to surrender because fighting was so hard. She wanted to give in to that whispering, seductive darkness. If she just gave in, she would be at peace.

  Peace was all she ever wanted.

  She’d be with her children again, her toes in warm, white sand, watching the turquoise waters of the sea gently rolling toward her. The sun would be warm on her human skin, and she’d never crave the salty, earthy scent of blood. Her children’s laughter would be the main sound, not screams of agony and despair.

  She was so tired.

  Would giving up be so awful? She’d walked this earth for thousands of years bringing pain and cruelty wherever she walked. She’d fed on blood and marrow when she couldn’t find food, drank in pain and suffering, and sometimes even caused it.

 

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