Page 67

W ith a bouquet of tiger lilies in his hands, from a distance, Foxx eyed the grave that was set up on top of a gently sloping hill.

The sun was shining down on its mostly white granite surface. He didn’t need to move closer to read it, as he already knew what the raised black lettering said. Charity Ann Bartlett, born February 24, 1989, Died May 16th, 2025. A fierce bright light, forever loved and forever missed.

Her headstone was wider than a standard one, and according to the purchase receipt he’d gotten when he’d ordered, it was a wide-set ogee-shaped stone with shoulders and an extended front platform base. The platform in question was wide and rectangular.

As beautiful as the white granite was, it wouldn’t have been right for Charity if he hadn’t added a pop of color—so he had. Lining and decorating the inner and outer edge, some extending beyond the shape, were carved three-dimensional tiger lilies in orange granite that were speckled with black, the stems of the flowers in green.

The spot he’d found in Love Hill Burial Park, a cemetery located in Hollow Moor, was…beautiful. Not too crowded, well kept, and there was a large great white oak tree a short distance away that should provide shade for her during the hottest parts of the day. Sunlight and shade…what more could one ask for…?

Foxx looked back when Harlow nudged him.

He smiled on spotting the blank expression on the man’s face. “I promise, I won’t take too long. ”

“Take as long as you need, Brat.”

Nodding, he took a deep breath and slowly made his way up the hill.

Foxx took another deep breath once he’d reached her, smiling brightly as he looked down at her grave marker. “Hello, Charity. Sunshine, here. We did it. I’m sorry it took so long, and that it took me so long to come here. But the man is dead, he can’t hurt anyone anymore. And whatever is left of the organization, we’ll get them too eventually.”

He took a hesitant seat in front of her headstone, and set the flowers down on the platform. “I…met your niece. She’s a sweetheart, just like you, and bright. She’s safe, with a witch named Sephira, who is a friend of mine. And also a friend of Tony’s. You know—” He chuckled softly. “—I think you would have liked her, Charity. Sephira is really kind and bright. Having thought about it, I sort of wish you’d have met her. Maybe if you had…” He trailed off and cleared his throat. Absently, one of his hands ran over the smooth granite, trailing against the flowers he’d brought.

“I suppose…it doesn’t matter now, but I think you two would have gotten along. And, who knows, maybe in another lifetime you will. In less bright news, I’m sorry to say, your fiancée was not a good person, and we may have killed her. But before I get into that, I think I should start from the beginning…from after you died.

“I'm not going to lie, it was hard. It still is, and I definitely miss you. And believe it or not, and don’t freak out about this, but even Harlow misses you. Not that he’d admit it. But let me skip all the sad death and crying parts and start with, I think…Gavin. Yes, Gavin. You didn’t meet him, but Gavin is Harlow’s dragon, hacker, kid brother slash friend. He knows Tony too, but I feel at this point, who doesn’t know Tony?” Foxx giggled.

“Anyway, Gavin happens to be the one who put out the fire at the Guild. And after, he sort of broke into our apartment. Harlow just loved realizing that none of the damn cameras he’d installed without telling me had done anything to alert him of that fact.” He frowned, before saying, “I’m not sure if I told you about those. Too much going on likely. But yeah, the man broke in, and then we grabbed him, packed, started driving and hunting?—”

Harlow shut the apartment door behind him, following Foxx down the hall, into the first part of the living room.

The vampire paused and eyed him. “I think I’m going to go have a shower.”

Foxx was smiling, but looked a bit drained, likely more emotionally than physically after spending a few hours in a cemetery. But yeah, just a very drained…little tiger. Because that was the sunsuit the vampire had chosen to wear, tail and all, to visit Charity’s grave for the first time. Harlow supposed Foxx wanted to match with the flowers he’d bought her.

“Want me to wash your hair?”

The vampire’s smile widened. “No, I think…I just want to—ha—think, and I know I won’t be able to do that with you in there with me.”

Harlow chuckled and pulled the man into a brief hug, before kissing his forehead. “I’ll be down here then.”

He took a seat on one of the teal couches as the vampire disappeared upstairs. Relaxing back, he closed his eyes.

Knock.

Harlow’s eyelids fluttered open at the sound. Frowning, he looked over at the hall entrance.

Knock.

Standing with a sigh, he headed for the front door, opening it just after another knock sounded.

As the thick pungent smell of death invaded his senses, Harlow stared blankly into the empty eyes and bloodless face of a creature who he heard absolutely no vital signs from.

Without a word, he closed the door.

Knock.

His fist rose, a growl slipping past his lips as he barely held himself back from punching it. Dropping his hand, he pressed his face to the flat surface and just groaned. “You have to be FUCKING kidding me! ”

Still groaning, he pushed up from the door and slowly re-opened it, once again meeting the dead gaze of the zombie standing on the other side.

“Son of a…bitch…”

The End