Eventide

him hard. “E-mail me.”

I feel his body quake with laughter. “We’re vampires, Riley,” he says, pulling back and smiling. “No need to e-mail when you can cyber chat”—he taps my temple—“here.”

“As long as you stay out of the personal info,” I remind him. “And no dirty talking.”

Victorian shrugs. “I’m still a man. That is a promise I cannot make.”

I laugh, and turn to leave. “Be careful, Vic—”

I’m grabbed by the arm and swung quickly and determinedly into Victorian’s embrace. His mouth descends upon mine in a fervent kiss so fast, my head spins.

Literally.

Just as fast, he releases me.

“Sorry,” he says, backing away. “I couldn’t help myself.”

I simply shake my head.

Valerian is tethered and within the hour is taken away by Victorian, Jake, and the others. Eli, Phin, and Seth remain behind.

“There are more out there,” Phin says grimly. His eyes glisten in the light of the moon. “It’ll take time to collect them.”

“At least Valerian won’t be able to manipulate their minds,” Seth says.

“There is that,” Eli says. He looks at me. “Ready?”

I glance around me, at the facility. At the island. “Yeah. I am.”

Seth drapes an arm over my shoulder. “You’ve got some wicked tendencies, Ri,” he says. “Do you even remember what you were doing to Valerian?”

I think about it. “Not really.”

“That’ll come,” Phin says. “You’ll learn more control over time.”

“And flexion of your mind muscles,” adds Eli. He grins. “Good thing you have more time now.”

I hug my brother and look sideways at him as we walk to the skiff. It’s hard to believe that a few short months ago, he was experiencing a quickening. Floating to the top of his room, for God’s sake. So much has changed.

We’ve all changed.

The ride back to the mainland is a fast one. It’s early—too early—to visit with Preacher and Estelle, or Nyx. Phin and Seth step out of the Jeep as we park on the merchant’s drive behind Inksomnia. Just as we near the door, Eli pulls me to a stop.

“Wait,” he says. “I’ve got something to show you.”

I glance at Seth and Phin and shrug. “Later.”

They both grin and head inside.

Eli links his fingers through mine and we get back into the Jeep.

“How tired are you?” he asks, and the tone in his voice makes me shiver.

“Not tired at all,” I answer.

We take off across Bay Street and down Abercorn.

For the first time in months, I notice a particular ease in the air. The chill is right. The crisp is right. The rustle of leaves is right.

Being beside Eli Dupre is even more right.

Twenty minutes from downtown and just off Waters Avenue, across from the old white concrete Cresthill Baptist Church, Eli turns down Beckman Avenue. It’s an older residential street, with houses built in the forties and fifties. Some a little newer. Some ways down, Eli turns in to a corner lot and stops the Jeep. The drive is a half circle lined with aged azalea bushes that are probably gorgeous in the spring when in full bloom. The house is an older concrete block house, single story, with several tall pine trees towering overhead. A wooden swing sits suspended between two of them. I glance at Eli.

“What’s this?” I ask.

A crooked grin splits Eli’s face in two, and for a moment, he’s not a vampire. He’s a mischievous guy up to something.

I guess he can be both.

Eli’s gaze lingers on my mouth, then meets my eyes. “My new house.”

I feel my eyes bug out. “Are you serious?” I glance back at the older home, then back to Eli. “Really?”

He shrugs. “I met a man once, years ago. He’d just returned from the war—as in World War Two—and had started working for the electric company. He had a sweet wife named Frances and a beautiful baby daughter named Dale. I watched him one day break up a fight between two mean-asses who’d jumped this skinny kid. Cracked the two bullies’ heads together. Knocked them senseless.” Eli’s gaze moves from mine to a place above me, and he concentrates as he pulls the memory back. He smiles. “His name was Wimpy. He gave me a job making hush puppies.” He inclines his head toward the concrete house. “He built this. Raised a family here. Had three more children. He helped build that church back there.” Eli slips from the Jeep and walks around to my side. “I watched his little blond-haired granddaughter, Cindy, come here every single summer and swing on that swing.” He points to where it was. “She had a little friend just down the road and they’d play together nearly every day. Cindy and Julie. They were inseparable.”

I look at Eli, wondering where he was going with all of this. It sounds great to me, like I’m hearing about someone from my own family.

From the family I could’ve had.

Eli knows I’m perplexed, and smiles. “I’ll never forget the summer of nineteen seventy-six. Cindy was ten. She ran around with a Jaws T-shirt on nearly the whole summer.” He shakes his head and laughs. “I’ll have to tell you a funny story about her later. About who she is, what she became. Maybe even take you to meet her. Later, though.” He glances toward the house again. “The property runs straight down to the Vernon River. Wimpy’s wife, Frances, used to go down to the dock and catch blue crabs by the basketfuls.” Another winsome smile touches his lips. “He built a dock over the marsh back in the fiftes. I’ve had some repairs made, and…” He grasps my hand. “Well, come see for yourself.”

I’m, for a change, speechless as Eli leads me across the yard, back toward the woods where a small worn path leads to the marsh. The brine is perfect and pungent, and just the slightest breeze rustles the saw grass. We cross the marsh on a newly repaired dock, and at the end sits a small covered screened-in dock house with a red tin roof. Eli stops, steps inside, and grabs blankets from a plastic storage bin in the corner. The screen door creaks and slams behind him as he pulls me down the plank to a small floating dock.

Without a word, he spreads two blankets on the dock, and rolls a third long-ways and places it at one end. He holds out a hand. “Sit down.”

I grin and do as he asks.

Silently, he kneels and removes my boots and socks. He rolls up my jeans. Then he sits, kicks off his boots and socks, and does the same. He sticks his feet into the water, and I do the same. He sits close to me, our shoulders brushing. He looks up.

“Magnificent spray of stars, don’t you think?” he says.

I turn my head and look at him. “What are you doing, Eligius Dupre?”

Eli’s smile is blinding. “I love it when you use my full name.”

I shake my head and wait.

He looks at me. “I always secretly wanted what Wimpy had. Family. Loving, devoted wife.” He laughs softly. “They called each other monkey. Their pet name for each other.” He shakes his head. “Funniest damn thing I’d ever heard. Wimpy made magic happen here, Riley.” He smiles and shrugs. “He had a great life. I want it. And I want you to share it with me.”

My heart leaps. It almost stops.

With two hands, Eli grasps my face. His gaze passes over my mouth, my nose, then to my eyes. “I want to marry you, Riley Poe. And if you don’t say yes now, I’ll keep asking until you do.”

Even in the fading light, I can see the cerulean blue brightness of Eli’s eyes sparkle. The slight scruff that perpetually remained on his jaw, the fall of dark hair over his forehead, and that crazy silver hoop he still wore in his brow—all of it Eli.