He wanted to grin, but he smiled gently instead. “I don’t know, Maeve. What did it say?”
“Of course, I’m sorry. It was from a woman named Antonia—”
Nick froze at sound of that name, had to fight to keep from shaking her to get on with it, to tell every tiny detail of what they’d found. And why the hell hadn’t Lili told him?
“—and it said,” Maeve continued, unaware of his thundering pulse, “it said ‘Leave me alone.’ Just that.”
As fast as his hopes had risen, they now tumbled to the ground.
“But I’m not really good at letting things go. So last night I needed to . . . come down a little, I guess. Everything’s been moving so fast, and I needed something to wear my damn brain out.” She shrugged. “So I did a little searching. First, I logged into Sotiris’s server and dicked around some with his money. Made big donations to causes he’d never in a million years have given money to, mostly because he never gives money to anyone. And then, I inserted a worm to scramble everything that was left, so his accountants will spend next year or three figuring out where his money has gone.”
Nick gave her an admiring look, despite his deep need to know what she’d found about Antonia. “You sure you don’t want to stay here in Florida, work for me? You and Dragan could buy a really nice place, right on the water.”
She shook her head. “No, I think the mountains will be better for us. I can work from anywhere, and Dragan can fly whenever he wants, without anyone noticing. He likes it, you know, the flying part. Anyway. . . . ” She lifted the flap of the computer case and pulled a small square of paper from an inside pocket, handing it to him as she stood. “I’ll leave that with you. I think it’s probably something you’ll want to read in private.”
Waiting until she was gone, he opened his fingers and read the note lying on his palm. Two lines, that’s all it was. The most important two lines of his entire life. “Antonia Rosales,” and on the second line, an address. Gods save him, an address. He’d spent a thousand lifetimes searching for any sign of her, had almost given up more times than he could count. He wanted to race to the airport and fly there. Tonight.
That would be a mistake. He needed to take his time, investigate, find out everything he could before he went to see her. But he would go. There was no force in the world that could stop him.
“Chicago,” he repeated, wondering why she’d ended up there. What had brought her to a city that he’d been to more times than he could count, and had never known she was so close? Closing his eyes in a combination of pain and relief, he pulled himself together and went to join the others.
Epilogue
Four months later, near Chattanooga, Tennessee
MAEVE SMILED AS Dragan drifted on the winds, swooping and dipping as the currents took him, his dark form getting lost in the evening shadows from time to time, though she never lost sight of him. He liked this time of day, because of the shadows. There weren’t many people in this part of the Cumberland Plateau, but the number was growing. And this way, anyone catching a glimpse of him would write it off to a last ray of sunlight through the trees and the growing darkness.
He flew naked from the waist up these days. It made no sense to destroy shirt after shirt, when the temperatures didn’t bother him at all. The wings still ripped open his back, though. She still cried when she saw that, though he insisted it didn’t hurt that much. It was the “that much” that made her heart hurt. But that was the price he paid for his wings, and he loved flying. Not because he had to, or because someone needed to be killed, but just for the joy of riding the winds.
So she hid her tears, though she was sure he knew about them.
They’d bought a hundred acres just north of Chattanooga. Close enough to shop once a month or so, but far enough to ensure privacy. And peace. That was important to Dragan. He’d spent his entire life fighting wars. Now finally, he had peace. And he had Maeve.
They loved each other with a passion that she’d never have believed she could experience. It was a gift, and one she didn’t take lightly. Nor was she willing to risk their happiness for just anyone. She’d worried at first that Nico would call on Dragan too often in his various adventures. But oddly enough, he’d gone quiet since the confrontation with Sotiris. The others still called to chat. Casey and Damian had even come up for a weekend. They were all watching Grace’s pregnancy. Watching her grow and glow, while Kato fretted and worried and changed the design of their renovated house to be sure there wasn’t an edge in sight. Gabriel called, too. And Hana. She and Maeve had formed a bond over video games. They fought late into the night sometimes, all online, of course.
Dragan drifted in for a smooth landing, the muscles of his chest and shoulders defined in graceful lines of such power that he belonged on the canvas of some Renaissance master, not riding the breeze in Tennessee. But when he held out his arms and she went to him, she was grateful that he was here, in this time and place, and he was hers.
“I love you,” she whispered.
His hold tightened as he lifted her into his arms and carried her inside, their mouths locking in a kiss as he whispered against her lips. “As long as there is breath in my lungs, I will be yours, sweet Mae. I love you.”
Chicago, Illinois
NICK DROVE ALONG the wide streets of an upscale Chicago suburb, barely noticing the graceful curves, the long lawns, and elegant mansions behind gates of every size and design.
He watched the house numbers flash by, though he didn’t need them. He’d know the house the moment he arrived. Her magic had been diminished, but she was still who she was. Born of magic, with magic. She didn’t need power, or the ability to cast spells to be who she was. Every cell of her being—body and soul—was intrinsically magical.
When his awareness of her became so strong that it screamed her presence, he turned into a short driveway, pulled up to the gate, and stared into the security camera, not saying a word. The gates opened on silent hinges, and he proceeded up the curving drive to a home that wasn’t as massive as some of the others. Its design was one of refined beauty, rather than ostentatious drama.
He was nervous when he left his car and climbed the few stairs to a wide front porch, the door framed in gracious plants that spoke a warm welcome. He rang the bell and wondered if that welcome would include him.
The door opened, and she stood there, a figure out of his dreams. Her dark beauty was as stunning as ever, her warm brown eyes just a little cautious, and more than a little guilty.
“I found you,” he said simply. And walked into her arms.