To be alive and Will—
’T is able as a God! — Emily Dickinson, The Silent Hound, Poem IX
Bomber woke up, without the smell of Abuela’s cooking filling his nostrils. He looked at the calendar he put on the wall and the clock by his side. New Years’ Eve.
Cristan and Izzy were leaving. He wasn’t sure if he was happy about that or not. He had fallen hard for Izzy, he knew that. He meant what he had said to Lorenco – if anything happened to their father, he’d protect them. If it meant learning Spanish and moving to Spain, then so be it. If it meant living as the only Camarilla in a hundred miles with Sabbat everywhere, so be that, too. Maybe he could negotiate. Maybe he could become an anarch instead of a true Camarilla. Maybe pigs flew and chickens grew on trees.
He got out of the secret hiding place. Lorenco would still be at the airport. Although he was hungry, Bomber went upstairs, and went into Izzy’s room. He sat on the edge of the bed, where he would normally sit when reading her bedtime story. She wanted to get married to a rich man, she had told him. And she wanted to be a princess, like Cinderella. Bomber would smile, just like he was doing now, and tell her that was a noble goal. He explained noble, too.
Cristian was going to be like his father, a hunter. Bomber didn’t know if Cristian knew Bomber’s true self. When Cristian held the sword against Bomber that one night when Lorenco was covered in blood, and thought that Bomber had done it, Bomber felt they would be in that position again. He hoped that wouldn’t happen.
“Gonna miss you, Izzy,” he said, patting the bed, and heading out to go find dinner.
———————
Shannon sighed, fishing the keys out of her purse. Another New Years’ Eve, and she would be alone with her cat. Fun times.
She got closer to her car and thought she saw a shadow against it. She put one key between each of her fingers and approached the car cautiously. A bald man in a black leather biker jacket stood near her car, a motorcycle parked next to it.
The man stepped out. “Hello, Shannon, remember me?”
How could I forget? Two orgasms in the span of fifteen minutes, just from a kiss? She felt warmth in her loins already. Her mouth went dry. “Y…yeah.”
He walked over to her. “I was wondering if I could spend a couple of hours with you.” He came over, and touched her jaw. She felt herself turn into putty. She wondered if she shivered, or thought she did.
“Maybe we could talk,” he continued, his head bending to her neck. She tilted her head, offering it to him. “Get to know each other.”
Then she was in his arms, and she was filled with the most pure bliss she’d ever had in her life. She hoped, she prayed, that this would be just the start of this new year.