“Is all of this that big a deal?” I asked.
Felix answered. “There hasn’t ever been a true cooperative breach of the truces from werewolves and vampires. The Coven will know the line has been drawn in the sand after this. They may decide it doesn’t suit them to wait us out any longer. They may think it’s time to try to strike while our alliance is fresh and hope to divide us.”
I wrapped my arms around Riggs, holding tight to his slim midsection. I wasn’t sure I particularly cared what happened in the big picture. We’d saved Maisey and Felix and Fang. We even had places to wait out the month of pursuit from the cleaners.
To me, the distant sense of possible doom was nothing new, I guessed. I’d just traded possible future death by disease to death by angry Coven vampires. At least this version came with a much, much more exciting life.
“Where is Steve?” Maisey asked.
Felix made a face. In that moment, I realized something else might’ve happened in the time they’d been locked up together. Something that made Felix want to groan with annoyance to hear my sister ask about her old boyfriend. That was interesting.
“Steve is at Blackridge,” Riggs said. “He came to see you often, from what I understand. But you weren’t exactly coherent while they were helping you recover.”
Maisey nodded. “Can we go there?”
“Yeah,” Riggs said. “From the sound of it, I need to go tell Ana and Vladimir that I appreciate the help they provided. I think we all might owe them our lives. Unfortunately,” he added with a twist of his mouth.
I squeezed his arm into a hug. “Oh, come on. Having reasons to be grateful isn’t the worst thing in the world.”
He grumbled. “It means I owe them. I don’t like owing people.”
“Speaking of debts,” Maisey said. “Are you still planning to extort us for money now that your bodyguard duties have been mostly completed? Although, I have to say I’m asking for a discount since you let me get kidnapped.”
“And me,” Felix said.
Riggs chuckled. “A self-respecting werewolf shouldn’t have been allowed to be taken captive alive, Felix. Did you bend over before, or after they took you?”
“They surprised me,” he said. “Fuckers came out of the shadows and restrained me. Wasn’t a thing I could do.”
“Speaking of werewolves without any self respect,” Riggs said.
Fang came jogging toward us and managed to sneak a hug from Riggs before Riggs could stop him. “I knew you’d rescue me.”
Riggs groaned, shoving him out of the hug. “I rescued the others. Your rescue was an unfortunate side effect of my efforts.”
Fang grinned. “You know I like it when you play hard to get. Anyway, I got so much good shit for the blog from all of this.”
“Blog?” Felix asked.
“Trade secret,” Fang said with a wink.
“He writes werewolf fan fiction under a pseudonym online. He told me when he was drunk one night,” Riggs said.
“Bro,” Felix said, looking hurt.
Riggs shrugged. “Last weeks’ post was pretty good though. I’ve got to admit.”
Fang clapped a hand to his mouth like a maiden in shock. “You read my blog?”
Riggs folded his arms. “Tell a soul and you’re dead.”
Fang crossed his heart with his fingertip, then walked off, fist pumping to himself.
“Where is everyone going?” I asked.
A minute ago, the graveyard had been busy with activity as the Silverback pack was regrouping and mingling with the rebels. But now there were only a handful of others remaining. I’d felt like we were safe, but seeing so few people around reminded me how close we still were to whatever forces had clashed at Westwick.
“Getting the hell home,” Riggs said. “Come on.” He went and got Kyla, who was talking with a rebel vampire, and ushered her into the truck with us. Maisey and Felix hopped in the bed of the truck with Gravy Boat, who was showing obscene levels of affection to Maisey at the moment. The hairless little bastard liked to pretend he didn’t care if we lived or died, but he was showing his true colors right now.
“To Blackridge?” Riggs asked.
I nodded. “For now.”
47
Riggs
I stretched out, groaning as my back popped and the stiffness drained from my legs. I was comfortable between silky sheets with Sylvie’s small, soft form at my side. The windows were blacked out as was standard at Blackridge, but I could sense the sun had set. I took a few minutes to admire Sylvie before I woke her.
Adorably, she’d taken to sleeping on her back with her arms crossed over her chest like she was in a coffin. I wasn’t sure when or why it had started, but it had been a couple weeks now since our encounter at Westwick and she was still doing it.
Vampires. Bizarre fucking creatures. But now I loved one of them, crazy or not.