Page 109 of That Vast Hunger
As if she can sense my wandering mind, Secora lowers her hand, placing it on my knee. She squeezes gently, offering me a timid smile.
“My sources all assume you’re in mourning, but we’ll need to be careful going forward,” Milas says. “Once you’re ready to return to the Day Realm, you’ll need to be strategic. We don’t want the council asking questions.”
I don’t look at Secora, but I feel her stiffen. It’s been two months since Mama died, and still, we haven’t discussed the logistics of our future. Her life is here. Mine was in the Day Realm. I lower my hand to my knee, until my fingers cover hers. She relaxes, but just barely.
“And what of the sunwalker spell?” Beatrice asks. Demands. Of all the vampires at this table, she unnerves me the most. Milas and Amelia are simple. They do their work and only speak when they have something to contribute.
Sebastian is as volatile as Beatrice, but at least I see where his heart lies. He wants to protect his people, and because Secora is in that group, I can’t help but admire him for it.
Beatrice, on the other hand, is nothing but chaos. Greedy, power-hungry chaos.
She doesn’t care that I killed my mother. Or that the witches are without leadership. Or that Secora nearly died.
She only cares about the sunwalker spells.
I glance at Secora to find her already staring at me. She doesn’t say a word, but she doesn’t have to. The encouraging look in her eyes is all I need. She could answer Beatrice as well as I can, but she wantsmeto contribute. To be part of her side of the world.
“We’re ready to test,” I say. I’m surprised how steady I sound, how effortless the words are. “Secora and I made a list of ingredients for Milas to collect. We’ll bring Henry in to perform the ritual. If all goes to plan—which I think it will—the vampires will be free in a matter of weeks.
Beatrice doesn’t reply, but her lips curl into a satisfied smile.
Later that night,I lay in Secora’s bed with her head on my chest. We spent hours after the clan meeting, watching the last of my and Secora’s memories. We’ve been working through them for the past two months, and now that we’re finally done, I feel an unexpected pang of sadness. There’s nothing more to remember. My only comfort is knowing that now we’ll be able to make endlessnewmemories.
“Have you considered joining the council?” Secora asks.
My hand freezes halfway down her hair. She almost always wears it up during the day, but it’s my favorite like this. Loose around her shoulders, tickling against my bare chest. After along pause, I start playing with her hair again, letting the soft strands filter between my fingers.
“Not really.”
“You’d be a great leader,” she says. I turn toward her, grateful that we haven’t turned out the lights. I can see every detail of her face, from the soft wrinkle between her brows to the light blush trailing her cheeks. She clears her throat, tipping her chin proudly. “The Day Realm would be honored to have you. You plan to return home anyway, don’t you?”
I trace the soft curve of her lower lip, smiling when her cheeks darken in response. She’s trying hard to hide her insecurity, and the fact she’s uncertain at all is endearing.
“This is my home,” I say, kissing her temple. “Right here. With you.”
“I know, but…” she trails off, then continues in a torrent of words. “I don’t want you to feel trapped here. I know you don’t like the Night Realm. Even if you want to go, we could make it work. Don’t feel like you have to?—”
I flip us around, so that I’m floating above her. Her dark eyebrows rise in shock, that pretty blush still in place.
“You are my home, Secora,” I say. “If you go, I’ll go. If you stay, I’ll stay. If you want to live in this wretched manor, then I’ll live in this wretched manor too. I’ll play nice with the bloodsuckers. Start a healing center in the Night Realm. Fuck you every night and every morning. And I will be the happiest man in the Echo.”
Secora wraps her arms around my neck and closes her eyes. I can tell the moment she starts to cry, long before the tears actually fall down her face. I remain propped above her, letting her cry. I kiss each of the tears before they reach her chin, nuzzling into her neck once she’s finally fallen quiet again.
“It sounds lovely,” she says. “And I don’t use that word lightly.”
“No, I don’t suppose you would,” I say, chuckling against her collarbone.
“You’re going to stay?” she whispers.
“Yeah,” I say. I kiss the hollow of her throat, then kiss the softest part of shoulder. “I’m going to stay.”
THE END.
