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My permanently pubescent sister giggled. “He knows all about the sex, the blood, and the rock and roll,” she said, punctuating the last with a series of lewd hip thrusts. The sight was both disturbing and comical, but mostly it was just mortifying.

I buried my face in my hands and huddled against the wall, hiding from both of them.

“Soph,” Wes said, his voice soft. “It’s what you are.” His fingers curled around my wrists, and he pulled my hands away from my face. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of. I’m not mad or anything, if that’s what you’re worried about. You’ve been fading—dying—for years, but now that you have what you need, it’s like you’re more alive than ever. How could I be bothered by that?” After a moment’s hesitation, he added, “I just wish there was a way for me to be a part of it, too.”

My blush flamed hotter at the thought, and I wished he wasn’t holding my wrists so I could hide again. “Me too,” I whispered, my heart hammering. Wes was technically immortal now, I supposed, but he didn’t have a physical body, which meant hedidn’t have the blood I required. Much as I wanted him in my harem, it was impossible.

With a sigh, Wes released my wrists and wrapped his arms around me, pulling me in for one of his trademark bearhugs. His touch was charged, like a faint current ran through him, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. He kissed the top of my head, then replaced his lips with his cheek. “Let’s go see our boy,” he breathed.

Tears welled in my eyes.Our boy. Those words spoken in his voice were enough to undo me completely. I nodded, still wrapped up in his hold.

Wes pulled back, releasing me, and reclaimed my hand. Behind him, Amaya mimed making out with the back of her hand. I rolled my eyes at her, and she giggled. And then, in a blink, she vanished.

I sniffled and wiped under my eyes. Wes and I walked the rest of the way in silence, and when we reached the foyer, I let go of his hand. “Let me talk to him first,” I said, my voice hushed. “I don’t want to give him a heart attack.”

“Course,” Wes said, hanging back even though it was unnecessary. Micah wouldn’t be able to see Wes unless I was touching him.

I paused a few steps from the doorway to the infirmary, took a deep breath, then continued on.

Micah was propped up in his recovery bed while Greta, the vampire healer, stood at his bedside, measuring his blood pressure.

“Sophie,” Micah said, glancing at the vampire beside him, then refocusing on me. “I didn’t die.” His lips curved into that boyish grin he had inherited from Wes. “I thought I was a goner for sure, but . . .”

Relief flooded me, and I smiled shakily, tears welling anew. “No, you didn’t die,” I agreed. “How’s he doing?” I asked Greta.

She removed the blood pressure cuff with aripof velcro, her lips curving into a warm smile. “His vitals look great,” she said. “Another few days of rest, and he’ll be good as new.” She placed the cuff on the counter, then started for the door. “I’ll give you two a moment.”

I nodded to Greta as she passed, then approached Micah’s bed, only hesitating for a moment before gathering his hand in both of mine. “I’m so,soglad you’re okay,” I told him.

“Me too,” he said.

“Micah,” I started, the words feeling too thick for my throat. “There’s someone I’d like you to meet.”

“Oh, yeah?” Micah glanced around the room, despite it seemingly being just the two of us.

I nodded and met his trusting stare. “Do you remember when we were in the elevator heading down to that basement and I saw my sister?”

“The ghost?” he clarified.

I nodded, licking my lips. “Well, it turns out she’s not the only ghost who’s been hanging around me.”

Micah’s brows rose. “Oh?”

“The, um, photo you found in my wallet . . .” My voice caught.

“Of you and your boyfriend when you were teenagers?”

I nodded. “Of me andyour dad,” I said. “His name is Wes.” I glanced toward the doorway as Wes entered the room. “And he’s here,” I added, holding my hand out for Wes to take.

“Holy shit!” Micah exclaimed the moment Wes’s hand touched mine. Micah shifted on his bed so he could sit up straighter. “Holy shit,” he repeated, staring at Wes, who now stood beside me, holding my hand.

“I’ve been watching you,” Wes said, then cringed. “That sounded way less creepy in my head.”

I gave his fingers a squeeze and offered him an encouraging nod and smile.

Wes cleared his throat. “What I meant was, I was there when you were born, and I watched over you as you grew up. Made sure the Mitchels treated you right.”

“They did,” Micah said. “Theydo.”