Epilogue

THE SMALL COMMUNITY of Shadow Bay didn’t like change. The resignation of the sheriff, and the disappearance of Judson Tuxbridge and the new medical examiner, caused a brief ripple of gossip. But the placid surface of the town quickly restored itself, glittering peaceful and bright on the Lake Michigan shore. The murder of Kyle Carver was never solved, the town elected a new sheriff, and Lucius Moravich retired from his archaeological digs.

The house known as the Chicken Palace was purchased by local resident Dory Kreech, who was rumored to be Seline Swanson’s new boyfriend. Some laughed at the sight of the Goth Queen with the unimposing young man, but Seline’s coworkers saw only a happiness in Seline so complete that not even a cruel remark by Deputy Jason Rody could darken her mood.

Just outside of Paris, a redheaded woman waited in a chateau that legend held had been many things over the years, including a converted Russian palace. The uncertainty of what the future held waited with her, but stronger still was the belief in her love, and the knowledge that her lover would return to her soon.

In Paris the Directress Nikolena sat in her opulent office and entertained a man who was the Directorate rumor mill’s top candidate for the dubious title of New Prized Pet. It certainly seemed obvious to all who paid attention to such things that not since Alek Dragovich had an enforcer been invited to spend so much time behind Nikolena’s closed doors. Inside the office, an observer would have indeed heard Nikolena lavish praise on the young man.

“You’ve returned the prodigal son to me, Revelin. No more will he wallow in the extravagance of secreting himself from the world, of wasting his power in such an insignificant place. You’ve done well by me once again.”

The man kneeled and kissed the tiny jeweled hand. “Madam, it is my honor but to serve.”

“And whom do you serve?”

“Only you, Madam, only you.”

She smiled a Nikolena smile that had as many meanings as she had years on the earth. A red light winked on the console on her desk. “Ah, my revered guest is here. Leave me now, dear boy, through the back way. You’ve done well.”

The shaggy-haired man bowed and left, and a moment later, a tall vampire strode into the office. He was dressed in black and white elegance. But his tawny hair, worn long and loose, put the elaborate waterfall cravat to shame, and his glowing amber eyes outshone his gold jewelry.

“Damiane.”

“Ah, Ricard, my golden boy. You remember my name of old. Welcome home, my love, welcome home.”

The End

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