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He broke out in a smile and inhaled a deep breath, blowing it out slowly. “Yeah,” he said. “Let’s go.”

We all jogged down the stairs, everyone laughing and chattering, our heavy footfalls reminding me of all the times we ran as a group—together and tight.

Diving out into the night air, “Let the Sparks Fly” started playing from someone’s phone, and déjà vu hit me, thinking about the last time I heard that song. Rika was sixteen, in the car with us, and it was the last good night for a long time.

Rocks kicked up under our feet, bottles in everyone’s hands as Kai tipped back his beer and we left the house behind.

“No cars?” I asked, noticing everyone just kept walking.

Michael shook his head. “I don’t need to be carted to the altar,” he announced. “I want to arrive in style with my friends. This is how it started, and this is how it continues.”

Kai grabbed his shoulder as we stepped out onto the road. “Always.”

David and Lev pulled out in two SUVs, going on ahead in case we needed transportation later, but the seven of us strolled down the black highway, the glow from the estates that we passed lighting our way.

Fires burned, the scent of wood and spice filled the air, and the Halloween decorations of every home lit up, the flickering flames inside the jack-o’-lanterns making me smile.

A howl pierced the air, and I looked over, seeing Michael holding his hands to his mouth, his roar carrying down the street and up into the trees.

“I’m marrying little Rika Fane, motherfuckers!” Michael yelled, and we all followed, belting our battle cry into the night.

“Whoo!” we all joined in.

Michael slapped my back. “Let’s go get my girl.”

Beers and bottles in hand, we strolled down the highway, spotting our neighbors loading into their cars and getting on their way, a Mercedes swerving past us as we took up most of the road.

“You’re gonna be late!” Bryce laughed, hanging out the passenger side window.

Michael held out his arms. “Like they can start without me!”

Bryce waved as they kept going, and I bobbed my head to the music, seeing the bottle of bourbon change hands from Micah to Rory, both of them whispering between themselves and laughing.

“You know they might start without you if she wisens up,” I told him. “Remember when we kidnapped her mom, stole all her money, and burned down her house? That was good times.”

“What the fuck?” Rory spat out. “You’re not serious.”

But Michael scoffed, defending himself. “Damon suffocated her with chloroform, threw her over his shoulder like a sack of flour, and took her to sea!”

“We were bonding,” D retorted. “You’re just jealous.”

“I’m just glad your ‘bonding’ didn’t go under the clothes before you knew she was your sister,” I fired back. “Can you imagine?”

Damon hooked my neck, yanking me down, and I laughed as we play-fought for a moment.

“I’m starting to feel like we need to grab this girl and Emory and run,” Micah mumbled to Rory.

I pushed Damon off and straightened, fixing my suit.

“We love the hell out of her,” I assured my guys. “We’d die for her and each other. Erika Fane is a lucky woman.”

“Yes, she is,” Kai agreed. Then he looked at Michael. “You okay?”

We all glanced at Michael, a light sheen of sweat on his forehead and his breathing heavy.

“My heart’s jackhammering,” he panted, letting out a nervous chuckle, “like that day we walked into her math class and I saw her for the first time in months.”

Kai grinned, squeezing his shoulder. “That’s a good feeling.”


Tags: Penelope Douglas Devil's Night Romance