Bit by bit, the vampire collapsed in on himself, flesh and bone unraveling into glowing fragments that drifted downward, dimming as they fell. By the time they touched the floor, they were nothing more than dull, smoldering ash.
Sammy stood frozen, chest heaving, ears ringing as the last remnants scattered across the stone.
“I—” His voice shook. “I didn’t—” His gaze snapped to Dominic, panic rising fast and sharp. “You—you did that. Right?”
Please say yes.
Dominic stared at the ash for a long time before lifting his eyes to Sammy.
“No, colibrí,” he answered quietly. His hand came up, fingers brushing Sammy’s cheek. “You did.”
Chapter twenty-one
“Sammy, I don’t know. Are you sure?”
It was after closing time at the Cherry on Top Bakery. Empty tables. Empty chairs. Music barely audible over the speakers, enhancing the quiet instead of competing with it. The scents of roasted coffee beans and buttery desserts lingering in the air.
For two years, it had been Sammy’s safe place, his solace. While he still loved baking, he had found a new refuge.
Reaching across the table, he took Braeden’s hands and gave them a gentle squeeze. “I’m sure. I’ll come visit, but my life is in Shreveport now.”
“I get that, but I could manage the bakery. You don’t have to give it up.”
He didn’t see it as giving up anything. He was just…moving on. The place had given him purpose and something to cling to when he needed it.
He didn’t need it anymore.
“Braeden, you love this place almost as much as I do.”
“I do, but I don’t—”
“You know the recipes,” he cut in, speaking over his friend. “You know the customers, the vendors, the schedule.” Releasing him, he sat back and waved his hand out to the side. “You kept the bakery running for weeks while I was gone.”
“Are you sure?” Braeden asked again, sweeping his chestnut hair away from his face. “You could sell it.”
“I could.” It wouldn’t feel right, though. “I think the place is in good hands, though.”
They sat there for a long time, a comfortable silence stretching between them.
“I want to redecorate,” Braeden blurted.
Sammy tossed his head back and laughed.
“Go ahead. It’s yours now.” He rather liked the cozy teals and warm browns with subtle pops of color, but he wasn’t offended. “I look forward to seeing what you do with it. I do have one favor to ask, though.”
Braeden frowned, his eyes narrowing with suspicion. “What?”
“Give Aerin a job. Please.”
While Dominic had been busy tearing apart the house, Chapel and Thierry had located the other captives and spirited them away from the mansion in New York. Most of them, including the young shifter from Valdosta, had been returned to their families or packs.
Aerin didn’t have a family. The little water sprite didn’t have a pack, a coven, or a circle—no one to look out for him. Instead, he had been living on the streets of Jacksonville when he’d been abducted.
The pack had offered to take him in, of course, and help him get back on his feet. Predictably, he had been hesitant to accept, and he’d been a nervous mess while living at La Madriguera.
So, Sammy had offered him his cabin in Hunters Hollow. Like the bakery, he loved the place, but it wasn’t home anymore. Not for him anyway, but maybe it could be for Aerin.
With Dominic’s help, they had made necessary improvements for comfort and safety. Nearly three months later, though, Aerin rarely ventured out on his own. Not exactly what he had in mind when he’d made the offer.