Lucas’s laughter roared louder than everything else. Someone must have told a very good joke to make him rumble like that. I couldn’t help but giggle, happy to hear such sounds of joy and goodwill sneaking through my treehouse window.
Six months had passed since the Hermessi’s ritual had been stopped. We hadn’t heard from any of the Reapers, or Death. The elementals had gone back to their duties, as well, including the rebels. We did get our chance to say goodbye to Ramin, at least. The others, including Earth’s Hermessi, had vanished already from our collective sight, but we knew they were watching, quietly, all around us.
Every gust of wind. Every flower blossoming in the ceramic pots by my windowsill. Every flame burning in the candleholders on my nightstands. Every drop of summer rain. The Hermessi were there, peaceful and life-giving. Of course, the trauma inflicted by Brendel had yet to fully heal. I doubted it ever would.
Most of the cult members had been apprehended. Those we’d already had in our custody had joined them in a special prison built specifically for them, on Purgaris, in the Eritopian system. They no longer had the Hermessi’s power flowing through them, but many were still dangerous, still convinced that they’d done the right thing. Some had been repentant, asking for leniency, for forgiveness. None of us had found any mercy for them. They’d willingly hurt five million fae and done the Hermessi’s bidding. How could we forgive such actions?
No, examples needed to be set. Derek and Sofia had both been quite specific about it. We could not let their deeds go unpunished, not after at least two dimensions had been within inches of total annihilation because of these people.
I would’ve liked to see Ramin or Herbert one more time, but I also understood that connections between us were unnatural and unhealthy. The Hermessi, the ghouls, and the Reapers belonged to different planes of existence. We’d learned the hard way—though we hadn’t had a choice back on Strava—that mingling with their kind would bring catastrophe into our lives.
I did, however, take comfort in the kind of person I’d become since the ritual. I’d made new friends, great friends in Riza and Herakles, Eva and Varga, Lumi, Nethissis, and Eira and Taeral. We shared a trauma and an outstanding victory together. Most importantly, Raphael and I were a strong and incredibly happy couple—that was, by far, my favorite takeaway. I’d never fallen in love with anyone before, and Raphael had managed to take such firm hold of my heart that I could no longer imagine my existence without him.
“What keeps you awake at night?” he asked, his voice scruffy. “If it’s Lucas’s laughter, tell me, and I’ll go down there and slap some duct tape over his mouth.”
I chuckled, tilting my head back to look at him. He was gorgeous in this half-light, his sharp cheeks and full lips playing with shadows and moonlight. How lucky I was, to land such a specimen—handsome and funny. “Leave him be. He just died and came back, for the second time,” I said. “He deserves to be as loud as he wants.”
“I’m pretty sure he’s scaring the wildlife away,” he muttered, his blue and green eyes twinkling with amusement.
“Jovi and Dmitri haven’t complained,” I said, making him laugh.
“Oh, boy. Don’t let them hear you call them ‘wildlife,’” he replied. For a moment, he turned serious. “Are you okay, though?”
I nodded, my hands coming up to frame his handsome face. His skin sent electric sensations through mine, and I could not get enough of this incredible feeling. We’d been inseparable for six months now, and there was no sign we’d ever get bored with each other. He was playful and fierce. I was dorky and stubborn. We got along great.
“I’m perfect,” I whispered.
“No more nightmares, then?”
I hadn’t dreamed about the Hermessi and the Soul Crusher’s horrible puzzles in a couple of nights. His concern was understandable, though. I’d woken him up more than once, flailing and screaming, still stuck in a shaft with broken legs in a nightmare, unable to pull myself back up.
“Nothing so far,” I said.
“Good. You deserve peace.”
He kissed me, and I welcomed him. His lips were soft, and he was hungry for me. I could feel him, his muscular figure overwhelming mine beneath the satin sheets. He tightened his grip, fingers gripping my waist, as he deepened the kiss. My heart pounded, his touch sending thousands of energy jolts rushing through me. Making love to Raphael was like hugging the sun, without the risk of literally burning. His passion ignited a different kind of fire within me, and I allowed it to consume me, to take over, and to turn me into incandescent stardust. Raphael trailed hot kisses down the side of my neck as we both moved to our own rhythm, and my name left his lips as we surrendered to each other completely, our love blossoming and spreading, torching everything in its path.
The hours went by lazily, as we settled back into each other’s arms, basking in the afterglow and dreaming with our eyes open about the days to come… hoping they would all be as sweet and as wonderful as this one, and the many that had passed before it.
When morning came, there was silence. The night was still covering The Shade, thanks to the witches’ magic, but our biological systems responded to the sun rising somewhere beyond. I left my darling to sleep a while longer, making my way down the circular stairs into our kitchen, where I set coffee to brew.
Outside, the dew gathered on the begonia leaves I’d planted a month ago. They’d sprung fast, rich and green, their buds finally raising their heads. Tebir had been kind to my little garden, which I’d made, in part, to honor him. I kept little things around the house that reminded me of the Hermessi—in a good way. The windchimes spoke of the Air Hermessi, clinking delicately whenever the wind blew on the east side of my tree. The garden and the potted flowers were dedicated to the Earth Hermessi, and I tended them with much care and love. I had candles burning in the bedroom and living room whenever I was around, enjoying their delicate, floral fragrances. Eira had been kind enough to draw water from a natural, underground spring, which she’d set to flow through a small, white marble artesian fountain, smack in the middle of the garden.
This was my home now. My own treehouse, which I shared with Raphael, filled with books and candles and windchimes and flowers and all kinds of other small, wonderful things. I’d fought hard to get to this point. To see my family across the yard every morning. To bump into my friends on the way to GASP HQ. To hold my lover in my arms, for him to be the last thing I saw when I fell asleep and the first thing I saw when I woke up. This was as close to bliss as I’d ever get. And I’d earned it.
Taking my coffee mug outside, I settled in a chair by the fountain. Its crystalline water gushed out of a sculpted lily, streaming outward and shimmering under the moonlight. I listened to its stream for a while, until the starlings began their morning trills. Closing my eyes, I welcomed the peace and music. No one else had woken up yet. It was a Sunday. They were all taking it easy.
GASP had continued to expand. We’d set up bases on Cerix, on Aledras, and on Yahwen, while we already had several missions out to explore the In-Between further. The greater our alliance, the bigger our strength… the less likely that someone or something might try something against us or our friends. The universe was a big place, and it wasn’t home to just the friendly kind of people. We were well aware that there were hostile worlds out there—we’d given ourselves the option to engage or avoid them.
Rose was leading a separate mission to explore the Earthly Dimension. Before we’d parted ways, Kelara had let slip that she’d come across human-like civilizations out there. Naturally, we’d wanted to explore.
“Honey, what are you doing up so early?” My mom’s voice startled me.
I found her standing by the small wooden fence that surrounded my treehouse and garden, smiling with a coffee mug of her own, still wrapped up in her fluffy robe.
“I’ve been sleeping a lot,” I replied. “It was bound to catch up with me.”
Glancing down at my garden, she laughed lightly. “It’s looking better and better! Are you sure your scythe doesn’t have any supernatural growth properties or something?”
I’d been left with Yamani’s scythe after the ritual. No one had come to claim it. There had been no contact between the dead and the living. I hadn’t had reason to use the scythe as a weapon, so I’d given it a light gardening role. Doubting it had any powers on that front, I shot my mother a sly grin. “Nah, Mom. It’s all me. Well, me and my super green thumb!”
Sometimes, the world struck me as odd, now that I knew how it worked. I thought of the Reapers often, wondering what progress Kelara, Dream, and Nightmare had made on breaking Death’s seals, or whether the Time Master and the others had found the remaining First Tenners. I hoped Seeley was okay, doing his job as usual and not getting in any kind of trouble. But without seeing or hearing from them directly, I could only wish them the best whenever I laid eyes on Yamani’s scythe.
“What’s the plan for today?” I asked. “Shall we go together to Eva and Varga’s engagement party?”
Keeping in line with Phantom’s dream, the two had finally taken the big step. Varga had proposed to her during one of our Death Crew reunions a couple of weeks earlier, and Eva had teared up, barely able to squeeze out a “Yes!” She’d been so floored by his gesture. Riza and I had placed bets on how long before she fainted. I’d won, since I’d bet on the Lamia-vampire princess’s ability to hold it together, at least in public.
Tonight was their engagement party, and it was bound to be a pretty big affair, as the whole of GASP and many other familiars had announced that they’d attend. After everything we’d been through, an engagement was a much-needed cause for celebration.
“Of course we’re going together!” Raphael exclaimed from the treehouse doorway, wearing nothing but a towel around his narrow, sculpted waist. He’d already showered, and my cheeks were burning hot.
“Oh, dear,” my mother murmured, unable to take her eyes off him.
Raphael had that effect on people, and his lack of self-awareness, while totally endearing, had caused the occasional conflict in my family. “Babe, you’re practically naked,” I said, my tone clipped as I forced myself to smile, instead of laughing.
He blinked several times, as if confused by my statement. “And?”
“My mother is here,” I squeaked.
