where we’d rendezvous later. I’d also alerted my safehouse that you might go there seeking sanctuary, with or without me.
Seconds before our appointed time, a car swerved into the parking lot. It was a mid-‘80’s Trans-Am with a firebird emblazoned on its hood. The flashy car told me this was not someone trying to keep a low profile, and yet, your stalker had gone to great lengths to remain anonymous.
A man in a leather jacket climbed out of the driver’s side with an easy, loose-limbed gait, and without even glancing around to see who might be watching him, entered into the restaurant and strode directly to my specified booth. Who would schedule a meeting with two bloodthirsty half-demons and not have the good sense to scope out their surroundings? Or bring back-up?
“Is that him?” you asked with a nervous twinge to your voice.
“I believe so.”
The man tucked his sunglasses into his shirt collar, which was another red flag. Who wore sunglasses at night, besides movie stars and criminals? I willed the man to glance toward the window. Finally, he did. And immediately spotted me in the dark across the length of two parking lots. The man smiled. Then he waved. And though I’d not seen him in almost twenty years, I recognized him instantly.
Lucian.
“Henri, who is it?” you asked, staring at me with wide-eyed curiosity.
I closed my eyes and did a quick cost-benefit analysis of deceiving you. How many lies might I have to spin in order to prevent this meeting from taking place? Whether Lena had sent Lucian as her ambassador or not, he’d not give up until he’d been granted an audience with you. And I certainly didn’t want him engaging you without me present.
“That’s our brother,” I said as my lungs deflated.
“Lucian?” you asked with a touch of admiration.
“Vincent…” A million admissions were poised on the tip of my tongue, but you were practically vibrating with excitement.
“I want to meet him,” you said, as if it weren’t already obvious.
I resigned myself to this certain doom as a man slated for execution accepts his imminent death. We got out of the car and I called you over to me.
“Come here.” I opened my arms, and you threw yourself into my embrace. I gripped you tightly, dipping my head to scent your scalp as a way to ground myself. “Vincent, I…” Where would I even begin? “I love you.”
“I love you too,” you echoed, confused by my sudden outburst. I brushed my thumb against your soft lips and studied you. How selfish was it that I wanted you to always look at me with that same blind adoration? I’d never deserve you.
“I don’t think he’ll harm us,” I said, “not physically at least, but take the seat opposite him, and if you sense any danger or ill intent whatsoever, or if I give you the codeword, run.” I handed you the keys to the car. “In case I get held up. And remember our escape plans.”
With my hand at your back, we crossed the street and entered the restaurant, where I quickly scanned the patrons. The only demonic force I sensed was coming from Lucian, and it didn’t feel ominous or threatening. In fact, Lucian’s energy mirrored yours—anticipatory and excited.
He stood when he saw us, ever the gentleman. He stared coolly at me, perhaps in an attempt at intimidation, but when he saw you, he was transformed. A radiant smile lit up his handsome face, dazzling even to me. In all the ways I was rugged and unrefined, Lucian was sophisticated and polished. His features had been sought after in antiquity by sculptors wishing to capture the essence of male beauty. His fair hair and blue eyes had turned the heads of both powerful politicians and their wives. His name, Lucianus, meant light, and even now, with all that had transpired between us, his aura was intoxicating.
I took Lucian’s hand in a firm grip and pulled him close to whisper, “If you attempt to seduce him, I’ll make you regret it.”
His grin widened as he squeezed my shoulder. “Always a pleasure to see you, big brother.”
I then took the opportunity to frisk him. Rather than fight me, Lucian lifted his arms so that I could check inside his jacket, then pivoted slowly while I patted him down, still with a convivial smile on his face. Once I’d determined he was unarmed, I stood to the side so you could properly greet him. Little comfort it gave me. Lucian’s best