Page 34

Maxine

“Did you have to wear heels today? Honestly, Maxine.”

I glanced up from the rocky path I was precariously attempting to navigate, scowling when my foot slipped and I nearly fell flat on my face. A few steps ahead, Leah was shaking her head, dirty old boots carrying her over the rocky surface with ease.

“I didn’t think I would be quite so… uneven,” I muttered, stepping gingerly over another jutting outcrop. “You didn’t tell me we’d be hiking along the shoreline for half an hour.”

“ Beach , Maxine,” Leah sniped, twisting around to glance at me. “I said we’re heading to the beach. You’ve been to a beach before—did you picture sand in perfect parallel lines or something?”

I opened my mouth to retort, but slipped again, backward this time, and careered right into Rachel who was picking up the rear of our little trio. “Shit–fuck. Help .”

Rachel caught my elbow before I could go plopping down on my ass, laughing as she straightened me out again. She adjusted the pet carrier under her arm. “Not really an athletic one, are you?”

“Oh, she is,” Leah piped up, glancing over her shoulder. “It’s just those goddamn shoes slowing her down.”

“You said ‘beach,’ so I dressed for a beach. ” I gestured around us at the rocky pools, water sloshing against the clusters of seaweed and pebbles. “This is not a beach!”

“All right, lovebirds,” Rachel interrupted, waltzing past the both of us with the carrier in her arms. “This spot looks good.”

She sidled up to the water's edge and lifted the lid from the carrier. Leah helped me down from another rocky ledge, eyeing my wedge heels (beach-themed, mind you), with a smirk and a shake of her head.

Rachel carefully set the carrier down on a relatively flat patch of rock, water lapping at her boots.

Leah and I shuffled closer to peer into the carrier and two bright-eyed baby seals blinked back—whiskered faces that made my heart squeeze.

Their little flippers shuffled against the plastic bottom.

“Come on,” Rachel coaxed softly, reaching in to guide them forward. “Time to head home.”

I couldn’t decide what was more precarious—my wedge sandals on jagged rocks or the balance of my pride as I teetered behind Leah and Rachel, trying not to face-plant into the tide pools.

But both were quickly forgotten when the pups began to flop their way out of the carrier and a knot formed in my throat.

Leah had spent weeks nursing these pups back to health—Rachel assisting, and me occasionally dropping by with moral support and only the occasional snarky complaint about the smell. Despite not being the fish-loving type like the other two, I’d grown attached to the wide-eyed pups.

“Goodbye little guy,” Leah murmured, coaxing the first pup out with gentle hands. It slid free of the carrier, flippers smacking the wet stone. The second one followed, making soft, indecisive cries. My heart clenched at the sound.

Rachel crouched down, guiding them to the water’s edge.

The waves lapped at their bellies, and for a moment they paused, looking back with wide, unblinking eyes.

My chest ached, and Leah rubbed a hand across my back.

We were all well aware of how uncertain the ocean could be. But it was where they belonged.

With a rush of flippers, the seals eased into the frothing ocean, bobbing up and down amid the swells. We watched, breath held, until they slipped further out, disappearing behind the rocky outcrops. I exhaled a trembling breath.

Rachel’s cheeks lifted in a small smile. “That never gets old,” she murmured, climbing to her feet. “Every time, it’s like sending kids off to college. But we gave them the best chance we could.”

Leah nodded, biting her lip. I saw how her eyes glistened, though she masked it pretty well. “Yeah. They’ll find their buddies out there.” She forced a laugh, blinking fast.

“Still,” I murmured, leaning into her shoulder, “it’s sad to see them go.”

My wedge heel slipped again—a final jab from the slippery terrain—and I stumbled, nearly dragging Leah down with me. “Shit, you see!? This is exactly why you have to specify. Next time, I expect a real beach with actual sand.”

Leah smirked, linking her arm through mine. Her voice held a teasing fondness. “Come on, tough gal. I’ll make sure you don’t die on the way back.”

Rolling my eyes, I let her lead, though a tender sense of relief warmed me from the inside out.

We did something good there. Two more lives set free.

“You absolutely cannot wear the same clothes you wore this morning.”

If there was one thing I believed in with absolute conviction, it was outfit changes.

A new location? New outfit. It was a point of principle, especially for something as momentous as Hunter’s bachelorette party.

And yet here I was, arguing—no, pleading —with Leah to wear anything other than her scuffed boots and sea-splashed jacket.

“Come on, humor me. Just this once.”

Leah folded her arms, lips quirking in a stubborn line. “Sure, we came straight from the beach—ish,” she shot back. “I’m a bit damp, yes, but I’m fine. And no one is going to give a damn about my boots.”

I scoffed dramatically, throwing my palms skyward.

Leah rolled her eyes, but I caught a flicker of amusement in her grin and pounced on it. “Don’t you want to look your best for your dear friend’s bachelorette? We’re celebrating Addison and Hunter. That’s cause for a new set of footwear!”

Leah sighed, though her lips twitched up at the corner, comfortable in our usual song and dance. “I’ll brush my hair. That’s it. My boots are staying, my jacket’s staying, and you, Miss Overdressed, can just deal with it.”

And deal with it I did, albeit with my nose stuck in the air, all the way to the swanky nightclub where the rest of the Leyore women were waiting for us. We arrived at the venue—a swanky private lounge in the VIP section—only slightly behind schedule.

Leah stuck close to me at first, and people parted like the Red Sea as we found our party. Jordan stood near the bar, chatting with Ethan, sipping something suspiciously bright red with an umbrella garnish, wearing that perpetual titillating smirk. She waved us over, beckoning impatiently.

“About time you two got here,” she said, plucking the tiny umbrella out of her drink. “We’re doing a ‘toast every ten minutes’ rule, so you’re already behind.”

“You’ll have to catch up,” Addison added from her spot on a velvet sofa, grin wide and eyes sparkling. The bride-to-be. She turned her attention to Leah. “Just be careful which drink you pick up. Wouldn’t want to confuse your strawberry daiquiri with a Bloody Mary, if you know what I mean.”

Hunter, the other half of that soon-to-be marriage, was perched beside Addison, and she glowered at me when I blew her a kiss.

“This is Addison’s gig, by the way—not mine,” she insisted, though from the slight pink coloring her cheeks, I could tell she was secretly pleased. A bachelorette party for both fiancées. Because why not?

“Amara is on the dance floor,” Jordan jumped in, jerking her thumb at the small cluster of moving bodies under the swirling strobe lights. “She’s doing pretty well since, you know, everything.” She shrugged. “And Dylan’s over there playing protective wife, obviously.”

My gaze wandered to the dance floor, where sure enough, Amara swayed to the thumping bass that rattled through the floorboards, Dylan with her arms wrapped around her waist. They looked good, comfortable in each other’s orbit, a far cry from the stress that had weighed them down weeks prior.

River lounged on a side couch, swirling a martini glass full of something red. She greeted us with a regal tilt of her head, letting out a low chuckle when she spotted my glitzy heels. “How exactly are you meant to dance in those, Max?”

I sniffed, my eyes flicking to Leah, whose boots now felt entirely in place among the dance crowd. Traitor. But the fondness in my chest spiked anyway. “Forget about shoes, River. We’re here to celebrate.”

Addison clapped her hands. “Yes, we are! I think it’s about time for another toast.”

Leah shot me a sidelong glance, a mischievous curve on her lips. “You see? My outfit’s fine. Nobody cares.” She gestured at Addison’s relatively simple ensemble. “At least I’m not overshadowing the bride.”

I rolled my eyes but grinned back, taking a cherry-red champagne flute from the bar. “You’re overshadowing me, though.”

“Impossible.” Leah laughed, then she tapped her glass to mine, eyes twinkling like bubbly champagne.

“All right, all right, everybody shut up.” Jordan announced the next toast, hooking an arm around Sky’s waist for good measure.

She hiked up her glass. “To Addison and Hunter, who, for some reason, are actually tying the knot, willingly.” She shot Addison a teasing smirk.

“May you tolerate each other’s bullshit on the daily—and with love. ”

Hunter groaned, Addison giggled, and the rest of us raised our glasses in unison.

At some point throughout the night, I realized that maybe, just maybe, I had worn the wrong shoes for the occasion. My feet hurt like crazy and I eventually had to vacate the dance floor, tottering over to the bar and cursing under my breath.

I left Leah boogying under the strobe lights with Ethan and Addison, and zeroed in on River. The vampire woman was perched on a barstool and watching the scene with a small smile on her lips.

“Hey,” I said, sliding onto the stool beside her. “Got any more visions you’d like to share of my oh-so-bright-looking future?”

River arched a perfectly groomed eyebrow. “Even if I did, I couldn’t tell you. If you know what to expect it might not come true.”

“Fair enough.” I shrugged, leaning back against the bar. “I was wondering though, about that comment you made, how it was about time I showed my true strength. You made it sound like you knew I’d do something big.”

Her lips curled into a secretive grin. “Because I did.”