With fingers that trembled ever so slightly, I opened the little latch and raised the box above my head.
"May your ashes fill this place with the peace and beauty that was yours, and may you find that same peace and beauty in whatever path is now yours."
I tipped the box, letting her ashes loose on the wind, watching her scatter through the trees.
"Good-bye, Mom," I whispered, my voice broken with the tears that were flowing down my cheeks. "I love you."
And I will find your killer. No matter how long it took or what I had to do. I had a lot of leads to follow—the human shifters, the men from the consortium, Handberry and whatever the bug had picked up in his office, to name just a few—and behind one of them, I would find her killer.
There was no answer to either my words or my unspoken vow. There could never again be an answer. Yet just for a moment, I thought I heard the joyful sound of her laughter.
Then it faded, as the sunlight faded, and I was left standing alone in the middle of the shadowed clearing.
I swiped at the tears, then dropped to my knees and picked up the small shovel I'd carried up here with me. I dug a hole in the soft soil, then kissed the box and buried it.
Then, with a final smile at the forest that was her final resting place, I turned and made my way back down to my car.
To find I was no longer alone.
Director Hunter was leaning against my SUV, her arms crossed and her demeanor reminding me somewhat of a snake about to strike.
I stopped and stared at her. Eye-to-eye contact. The worst thing you could do when faced with a vampire as old and as powerful as her.
I should have been scared. I wasn't. Far from it, in fact. This moment was mine. Mine and Mom's. She should never have intruded.
Anger surged and I had to clench my fists against the sudden urge to do something stupid—like attack her.
"It's an extremely wise decision to restrain yourself," she said softly, "because any such attempt would only end badly. For yourself, at any rate."