31. Epilogue

Isaac recovered quickly, the wounds healing under Rory's expert care, aided by the blood from his mate. Angel hovered; he tried not to, but he was failing miserably at giving Isaac space.

"Angie," Isaac warned gently. "I can walk just fine."

Angel withdrew a hair and took a step back, reining in his stronger impulse to order Isaac back to bed. "I'm sorry. You're right. You're healed and I'm hovering."

Isaac sighed loudly and shook his head, and Constans, who was on Isaac's other side and allowed to hold his arm, chuckled.

"I'm going home," Isaac declared as Constans helped him walk slowly across his old bedroom and out the door to the hallway, heading for the stairs. Angel followed right behind Isaac, silently hoping his brother didn't topple over. Isaac might be healed but the experience left him exhausted and in need of rest, but Isaac refused to sleep another night in the Mansion, citing nightmares.

Angel understood. He had nightmares, too.

Constans wrapped one arm around Isaac's waist at the stairs and helped his mate down, and Angel relaxed with each step, his body finally easing back from the worried edge it had been teetering on since Isaac woke up earlier that morning. Rory did another healing session, making sure the last of the blood magic was gone, and then Constans fed Isaac some of his blood, healing his mate fully once Rory gave the all clear. A combination of sidhe and vampire magic, and there was no trace left on Isaac's skin of what was once a horrible wound.

Isaac made it to the library archway without issue, where Daniel and Rory waited on them. Angel hugged his brother goodbye then let Daniel say his goodbyes, the two young men hugging tightly, murmuring to each other. Angel didn't try to listen in on the best friends—it was for them alone what was said. Rory checked Isaac over one last time.

"You're well enough, youngling," Rory said with a smile. "Connie will make sure you get plenty of sleep. You'll recover fully in no time."

Constans gave Rory a fond glower, and the two ancient men clasped forearms and exchanged nods before Constans let go and turned back to Isaac, wrapping an arm around him. Isaac leaned into his mate, resting his head on his shoulder.

"Call me later," Angel said, making Isaac roll his eyes but his brother smiled at him, too, before the mates stepped through the archway to the Tower. They were gone a second later.

Angel sighed. Daniel echoed the sigh and came over and hugged Angel, which he returned with enthusiasm. "We could have lost him."

"But we didn't," Daniel replied, squeezing a bit harder, stronger now than he had been as a human. Angel grunted and Daniel let him go with a rueful laugh.

"Sorry! I keep forgetting I'm so much stronger now," Daniel apologized.

"It's okay," Angel wheezed a bit. "I'm glad we're all still here."

Cian was odd. He killed with cold-blooded ease, yet took such care of the young dragon, practically another parent, watching over Eroch with tenderness, patience, and a knowing eye for trouble—even while causing some of his own.

"You took him hunting in the underhill?" Simeon asked, a bit taken aback. "What creatures lie within?"

"The usual—red deer, some elk herds, wolves and bears, birds, and that's not counting the magical creatures. The kraken sleeps, but the unicorns tend to hide when I'm around so I haven't seen them for a long while. Rory can check on them for me."

Cian and Simeon were in the temple, in a smaller room off the main temple, cold as a meat locker and it had hooks hanging from the ceiling—Simeon would have been alarmed if it wasn't clearly set up to be a place to butcher kills for Eroch.

"Can the herds sustain a growing dragon?" Simeon asked, eyeing Eroch where he lay on the floor chewing on a section of rib bone Cian had tossed him earlier. Cian was butchering a fresh kill, the scent of blood tingling Simeon's senses and making him a bit peckish.

He drank from Angel that morning, so he was fine, it was merely proximity to fresh blood rousing his baser instincts.

"Maybe—I haven't explored the depths of the underhill in years—I wasn't…" Cian paused, eyes pensive. "I wasn't in the best frame of mind to be the caretaker I should have been."

"Ah," Simeon murmured, delicately sidestepping that landmine conversation. "You're better now, so perhaps you can get back to the matter of living instead of surviving."

Cian froze for a second, knife poised over the hanging meat, and he looked at Simeon directly, stormy eyes noticeably swirling with some strong emotion. Cian was harder to read than Rory, but he gathered that he had stunned the sidhe warrior with his words.

It was time to live. Rory was resurrected. Cian was under Angel's authority for the next few lifetimes, but Angel wasn't a warden. He wouldn't stop Cian from finding some joy in his own life.

"For one so young, vampire, you're rather wise," Cian replied, teasing, returning to butchering. "Life never stops for the living. I forgot that for a bit. Thank you."

Simeon's lips twitched a bit. "You're welcome."

He wondered what Fate would send Cian once he turned his focus to living. He hoped it was something…unexpected.

He found his mate in the foyer, sitting at the piano. Milly was beside him on the bench, the two of them fumbling through a children's nursery song and laughing together at their attempts.

He watched for a moment. Milly was lovely, dressed in a dark blue dress with satin blue heels to match, silver hair swept up in an elegant bun, her cheeks flushed from laughing. She was teasing Angel, making him laugh and shake his head.

"Didn't you have tutors growing up, my dear boy?" She poked him.

"Not for the piano! We were in the middle of a damn war," Angel spluttered when she poked him in the side again with one sharp red nail.

"Do you need rescuing, mo ghra?" Simeon asked as he approached the piano, smiling at Angel and Milly.

"He does—he is horrible at Twinkle Twinkle Little Star," Milly declared. "Atrocious."

"You're not any better," Angel retorted with a snort of laughter. "That wasn't even the right song!"

Simeon grinned at the teasing. Seeing them both relaxed enough to tease and laugh made him very happy indeed.

Leandro was helping Ashwin at the stove, handing his Da ingredients as the vampire made a late lunch for everyone at the Mansion. Ignacio was at the island, offering unhelpful advice to his mate, which Ashwin smiled at but definitely ignored as he expertly tossed the contents of a pan, showing Leo how to flip the cooking food.

Angel went to the island and sat beside his ancestor, Ignacio nodding in greeting.

"Do we have a budding chef in our midst?" Angel asked, making Leo grin wide in happiness as he carefully stirred with a wooden spoon while Ash stood beside his son.

"I'm a necromancer," Leo said proudly. As if Angel could forget—the boy reminded him so much of himself as a child, but Leo was far happier and less stressed.

"Yes, you are," Angel said with a smile. "We're the best."

Ignacio laughed quietly behind his mug, winking at his son, making him giggle.

"You're good with him," Ignacio said quietly while Ashwin showed Leo how to chop onions safely at the counter.

"Kids confuse me and I have no idea what I'm doing, but thanks," Angel replied just as quietly. "How are you doing after last night?"

Ignacio blinked at him in surprise, then gave him a wry smile. "I'm alright. I'm glad my family is safe. We made the right decision, coming here."

Angel nodded in agreement. "I'm glad you came home, too."

Ignacio's smile was nearly blinding.

"Angel, can I make you something to eat?" Ashwin asked over his shoulder.

"Whatever you want, it all smells great." Angel replied.

Ashwin gave him a smile as wide as Ignacio's had been.

Simeon walked beside him under the moon, the silver light turning his auburn hair black, his bright eyes shinier than cut emeralds. They walked hand-in-hand down the path, heading for the huge oak tree that occupied the majority of the center section of the garden. Its boughs swung low, as thick around as Angel's waist, ancient and strong as steel. Under the boughs was a natural little grotto, thick grass and moss and small white and blue flowers covering the ground despite the lack of sun during the day.

The garden was tended by a High Court Sidhe. Magic made a lot of things possible.

Like the soulbond between a necromancer and a vampire.

Angel went to one of the low boughs and hopped up on the thick branch, at the perfect height for Simeon to stand between his spread knees and put his big hands on Angel's waist.

He leaned forward and put his forehead to the silent chest of his beloved, breathing in deep the scents of pine, blood, and a hint of mint chocolate. He loved the way his mate smelled.

Cold hands warmed as Simeon held him, Angel's body heat reflecting between them until they were toasty warm in the late summer night air. A kiss landed behind his ear, and Angel tipped his head a bit, giving Simeon more access for kisses.

Soft, cool lips trailed behind his ear down his neck to the junction of his shoulder, and Simeon nosed aside the collar of Angel's fisherman's sweater, licking the skin he found and breathing deep.

"Do I smell good?" Angel asked breathlessly, squirming a bit.

"You smell of blood and love, mo ghra," Simeon whispered with another lick.

A tingle raced down his spine, but not from Simeon's touches.

The wards.

He froze, mind going inward and then out, his inner vision searching out the source of the alert.

A spot down near the end of the garden where the wall met the sea grass dunes.

"The wards," Angel gasped, head coming up. "Someone is trying to breach them."

Simeon reacted instantly, fangs out, eyes glowing, and he helped Angel down from the branch. "Show me."

Angel ran from the oak grotto, taking the center path, and he nearly ran into Rory and Daniel as the two men exited the conservatory, both sensing the same thing as Angel.

"Can you tell what it is?" Angel asked Daniel as they ran side by side down the path, Rory and Simeon pulling ahead, the sidhe healer knowing the way as well as Daniel and Angel.

Daniel nodded. "Whatever it is is obstructing themselves with magic, but it's a person."

"Fuck!"

The sword whooshed through the air where his neck had been, and Cian grinned with glee and excitement as he parried the next thrust for his heart. The assassin was skilled, but mortal, and far outclassed, despite the fortune in obfuscation charms he wore.

The sea grass tangled his ankles and the wind picked up, blowing sand in the assassin's face—Cian dove forward, rolled, and sprang to his feet, leading his motion with both of his daggers, slipping inside the other man's guard.

Both daggers found his heart, and the man gasped out his last breath, blood dripping from his lips.

Cian shrugged and the man slid off the daggers, flopping to the ground, dead as the driftwood on the beach. He stood over the body, listening for more assassins, and there was something behind him, coming from the direction of the beach. Cian spun, throwing one of his daggers at the tiny hint of noise.

A shadow blurred, and then coalesced into a short figure, a thin white hand snapping out and catching the dagger from the air, moving just enough to avoid taking the point to the face.

"Damnation, Cian, I wanted to kill that one myself," a familiar voice growled from the shadows, and the figure moved out of the leeward shadow of a dune and carefully picked a path through the sand to reach Cian where he still stood over the body.

A sweet, dangerous smile of pale pink lips and fanged teeth greeted him, and Cian found it hard to breathe when the cait-sidhe handed back the dagger, hilt first.

"Apologies, Fenric, I did not know you wanted the kill," Cian managed to croak out, startled and stunned in equal measure. That catch had been quite impressive. Fenric only came up to the middle of his chest and was slim and wiry, with pale white skin, peridot cat eyes, and hair as black as midnight, and he was the prettiest thing Cian had seen in over two hundred and fifty years, since the last time he saw him, in fact.

"Well, there are more assassins coming for the Necromancer of Boston, so I imagine I'll get more kills soon. Want to wager who gets the most?"

The story continues with The Edge of Fate (BHS8), Cian's tale.