Epilogue Part 2

Rorick

A week later, I made time to visit with Grant, my former alchemist mentee, while Quiet tended to her assistants and her experiments at home. In her opinion, dying was no reason at all to slow down. There was more she desired to know about the world. More cases that would turn up, needing to be solved.

Dressed in only trousers to fend off the heat of his magical ovens, no shirt or shoes, Grant made us tea as I recounted the events that had transpired after we left his bakery.

"I tried to warn you about that Hecate, didn't I?" he said, after I'd finished my story. The front room smelled like yeast and flour. He'd added a plant to the entrance since I'd visited last. I appreciated the humid temperatures in his little store as much as the potted pothos likely did.

"I should have listened to you." My nose wrinkled as I sipped at the tea he'd made me in a large ceramic mug. He'd over-boiled the delicate tea leaves. It was soothingly hot, herbal and bitter, but it wasn't just the taste that made me cringe. Admitting how wrong I'd been was harder to swallow.

He grinned at me. "Never thought I'd see the day you of all people said a thing like that to me."

I chuckled. "My partner has gotten me more accustomed to admitting when I'm wrong. It's a talent of hers."

His laughter was as warm as his ovens. "You're well-trained now, is that it? How is she doing with all of the changes, the fangs and the like? I'd go barmy if I couldn't enjoy a good pastry ever again."

I set my mug down and tapped a finger thoughtfully against the handle. "I wanted to talk to you about that, actually."

"Ah, there it is," he said playfully. "I knew this wouldn't just be a social call. You don't make those."

"Well, I certainly didn't come here for the tea," I teased.

Rolling his eyes, Grant scooted the sugar bowl closer to me across his counter. "Go on and ruin it, then."

I did, spooning two large helpings into my drink to salvage it. "Quiet misses the sun," I told him. "It occurred to me that, with an even exchange, you'd be able to help me give it back to her."

He stroked his chin, pads of his fingers scratching along his short beard. "You want me to gift her my ability to stay awake at dawn?"

"Just for one day," I added quickly. "Half a day for her and half a day for me in exchange for one of my nocturnal nights. A small, even trade."

"Your witch wasn't too keen on alchemy the last time I saw her." He lifted his cup and drank from it, studying me through the gentle curls of steam.

"She trusts me. I recall enough of my past now thanks to you that I'm confident such a small exchange is perfectly safe, and it'll be useful in the future for our work. And Hecate's brew is out of my system by now."

"It is safe," Grant said begrudgingly.

"You still owe me for that thing with the werewolves." The wiry scars were faint in his midnight skin but still there when I looked closely for them. They splintered out from his hip and up his side.

He shuddered. "Wish you hadn't brought that up. It was a gruesome way to almost die."

"It was. Are we agreed?"

Grant extended his hand, and I shook it.

* * *

Just before daybreak, I flew Quiet and myself up over the flying buttresses and arched towers of Eckert Castle to a high outlook. We made ourselves comfortable there, facing the east, seated on a quilt warmed by hot stones. It was the best place for watching the sun rise. Lightning beetles kept us warm as we huddled together under a fur rug.

"I thought I wanted a set of wings for myself," she said playfully, her mouth in a droll twist. "I've decided against it. I much prefer being carted about."

We drank hot tea from a carafe Quiet warmed up with a spell from her wand. Her tea was even more bitter than Grant's, but I didn't say a word.

Excitement bubbled up in me as the sky turned from an inky black to a softening blue. Then as glowing sunlight shot through the clouds off in the horizon, turning them varying shades of pink and copper, I glanced at Quiet and found her staring at me, more focused on my face than the glorious dawn.

"You're missing it," I grumbled. "I don't want you to miss a thing because of me."

"I just realized we could put out the sun now if you'd like."

The smirk on her face made me want to kiss her. Her touch along my cheek was feather-light, drawing my gaze firmly up from her mouth to her new amethyst eyes. Though the color had changed, they were still capable of looking thunderous.

"This is a wonderful surprise, but you've groveled enough now, you know," she told me.

My lips tugged down. "I'm not sure that'll ever be true."

"It is true. You're not a monster, Johnathan Rorick. You stepped into a carefully laid trap, same as I did. One sprung after lifetimes of practice. We've only lived the one life, not thousands. We didn't stand a chance."

"I should have—"

She pressed her lips hard to mine, silencing me.

"No more of that," she bossed me gently, fisting a hand into the lapel of my coat. "You're not a monster. You're my vampire."

My returning smile was compulsive, stretching my cheeks over my fangs as the air warmed and the sun's vibrant rays lit up the world around us. Nothing worked better on my dead heart than Quiet's competent direction.

"I love it when you boss me about," I told her.

"I know," she said sweetly.

We were suddenly much too busy undressing to watch the rest of the sunrise.

The End