Page 20 of Make Me Bleed (Sanctuary #2)

EPILOGUE

A MONTH LATER

W hen Hank is the light of my life, I don’t fear the dark nowhere near as much as I used to.

I don’t even realize it. Between the gap in his cave serving as a skylight letting in illumination and the candles that I bought at the commissary and brought to his— our den—it’s never really dark, and when it is, just having Hank’s warmth surrounding my body reminds me that I have nothing to fear with my beloved near.

This past month, we’ve been inseparable. I finally understand why Bridget and Conall were attached at the hip in the first few weeks following their bonding. Predatory shifters have this obsessive need to watch over their mates, keeping them close, and repeatedly claiming them as though their instincts demand that they cement the bond again and again.

We might have finalized ours in my house in Dyea, Hank’s arms still dotted in Julian’s blood, but once the initial rounds of mating were complete, my bear convinced me to return to his den so that he could do it all over again on his territory.

After that, we just… stayed. It’s not permanent. The next morning, Hank asked me if I was ready to return to Dyea. With Mayor Lou’s approval, Hank was allowed to stay with me inside of the sanctuary, but my beloved isn’t the only possessive one. I haven’t forgotten how the other females eyed his glorious naked body after he shifted from his fur to his skin. That cock belongs to me , and my normally subdued bloodthirsty nature had me baring my fangs whenever I thought about other shifters and vamps ogling my bear.

Add that to how my house seems almost stained by my last confrontation with the rogue, and I was happy to stay with Hank in his den until I felt up to going home.

It’s June in Alaska. The weather is nothing like how it was in Clarity. In the Fang City, it was usually in the eighties, even the nineties in summer. In Dyea? The high tops out at sixty. Not like it matters to us. As a bear shifter, Hank already runs nearly as hot as Bridget does. His bear provides him a fur coat on the inside, and he adores the slight chill to the outdoors.

Me? I’m a vampire. Hank’s blood warms me up, but I can tolerate any temperature. Which is why the two of us spend our nights together in the den, and our summer days lazing about on the river on the edge of Hank’s territory. It’s not just because of the free-for-all fish buffet, either. Turns out, grizzly bears—wild and shifter—love to swim. Hank’s amazing at it, too. When he’s in his fur, he’s super buoyant, too, and he bobs in the river while carrying me on his back, my own personal furry float. He’s anal about keeping me slathered in SPF-5000 so that I don’t burn, but I love the sun almost as much as I love Hank.

Bears aren’t ruled by the moon like wolves are. They do their own thing, and after seventy-four years of doing what was expected of a van Duren, I’m enjoying myself as Elise Barrett. Hank’s rubbing off on me, I guess, but there’s nothing like watching a massive grizzly expertly climbing a large tree, searching for the rare beehive producing honey. Like Hank, the native bees in Alaska are solitary, but enough of the local beekeepers had imported European honeybees to the area that my honey-sniffing beloved can always find some. And if not, Bridget and Conall always bring a jar of honey from the canteen when they visit.

Then, when they leave, my beloved drizzles it all over me before lapping it up with his tongue…

The mated couple gave Hank and me three days after we left Dyea before they stopped by the den to make sure that I wanted to be there. Conall’s slightly embarrassed expression as Bridget interrogated a slightly dazed told me everything I needed to know: the shifter knew that there wasn’t anywhere I’d rather be, but Bridge? She needed to be sure.

Just like she wanted to know what I planned on doing next.

Obviously, heading back to Clarity was out of the question. At first, I stayed in Dyea because I didn’t want to leave Bridget. Now, I plan on living in Alaska because this is Hank’s home. My solitary bear would never be happy in a Fang City, and that’s assuming Thorn let him be the first shifter to live in Clarity. No. I was more than happy to stay, especially when Hank and I decided that we could live in the sanctuary full-time where he could rely on others to help keep me safe, and still visit his den when we needed some more alone time.

I’m the one who offered a month timeline. Hank and I would have our own version of a supernatural honeymoon, spending the month together to strengthen our amte bond and get to know one another even better. To a human, they’d never understand how a supe could tie themselves to another person for an eternity so soon after meeting them. I know I made the right choice, claiming Hank right after he destroyed Julian like that. I made him my beloved, and every moment we’ve spent together since only reaffirms my decision.

And then, only a few days before the month was up, Bridget and Conall made another visit. The previous ones were fleeting, usually Bridge bringing something that she was sure I’d need as an excuse for some ‘girl talk’ while Conall and Hank hung out by the river, fishing together.

Not this time.

This time, it was Conall who led the way, Bridget hanging back, nervously snapping her fingers, forming small fireballs before vanishing them. For a moment, I was concerned that something happened while we were gone. That the witch hunters had come for her, and that I’d missed it while I was bonding with my mate.

And that’s when Conall said, “I think I found Peter,” and if Hank wasn’t there to catch me when I stumbled, I might’ve fallen right to the grass outside the den.

He was dead. Just like I figured, and considering the state that Conall found him so far off from the edge of Dyea’s borders that it took this long to track down the body, Peter’s been gone a long, long time. No one can say for sure how was killed. Whether Julian did drain him, or it was the animals who tore him to pieces, but there was enough left of the male that Bridget was able to identify so that I wouldn’t have to.

Ah, Bridge. No matter what, my witch will always try to protect me, and I love her for it. I really do. And when she took my hand, telling me that it’s not my fault his obsession did kill him, all I could do was throw my other arm over her shoulder, squeezing her tight as both relief and regret warred inside of me.

The only one to blame for Peter’s demise is Peter. I believe that. I’d told him time and time again, there was no future for us once he took Delilah’s fang. He thought he could convince me otherwise. He said he could find my anywhere, and while he proved he was right, tracking me down to Alaska, he couldn’t get into Dyea, could he?

Now he’s dead—and when relief won out, I just squeezed Bridget until I felt strong enough to release her so that I could launch myself into my bear’s waiting embrace.

Predators are known for being possessive. Just knowing that his mate has someone else’s scent on them—whether it’s from hugging a friend or not—is usually enough to have them growling. They can’t help it. But Hank?

He just let me cling to him until Conall led Bridget away, leaving the two of us alone together again, but not before muttering that he buried Peter’s remains and that, if Hank’s up to it, he could use an extra paw to keep Dyea safe.

Three days later, we packed up most of Hank’s den and, hand in hand, went back to the sanctuary—right as Mayor Lou was welcoming Celeste Montvale to the town.

Turns out, my worry that the witch hunters had targeted Bridget again wasn’t unfounded as much as I wish it was.

Besides Mayor Lou, Bridget was the only one who got to speak to the head of the witch coven. Her mate wasn’t happy about that, but considering Madame Montvale is to thank for both me and Bridget coming to Alaska in the first place, I wasn’t surprised that Bridget was willing to listen to her and keep Conall out.

Especially when we all know that she just told him everything that was said after the Madame left…

Madame Montvale only spent one afternoon in the sanctuary. After meeting with Bridget, she walked the entire oval of the town and personally reinforced the border spell.

Why?

“Okay, so get this,” Bridget begins, waving her hands as she speaks. “I’m a rare fire witch, but there are other witches who could do way cooler stuff. Celeste told me about this witch chick. Her name is Penelope. She has two skills. Lucky. Well, maybe not… one thing she can do is figure out curses.”

That doesn’t sound too terrible. “And the other?” I ask, incredibly curious.

This is the first time I’ve been able to speak to Bridget since Madam Montvale left late last night. I know she spent the evening in with her mate, then suggested that Hank and Conall take another of their fishing trips.

I know better. Peter not only being able to find the sanctuary and hide out for as long as he did— even in death— spooked Conall. He’s been the sole head of security for Dyea since he made it his pack. He prides himself in keeping us all safe, but it’s become even more urgent since he’s mated Bridget. Peter was a wake-up call to him. Maybe we’re not as safe as it seems, especially after Julian’s betrayal, are we?

Conall wasn’t just being nice when he offered to let Hank help him guard the town. He’s practical, and he’s smart. My honey bear proved himself when Julian’s head popped off like a dandelion. Even if Mayor Lou hadn’t already approved Hank’s relocation, that would’ve done it.

So maybe they are fishing, those predatory males of ours. Odds are they’re discussing ways to keep us protected, including inviting the head witch to strengthen the spells.

And why is that?

Because of Penelope’s second skill.

“I didn’t even know it was possible, but she can talk to the dead!”

A frisson of guilt trickles through me. “Peter?”

Bridget shakes her head. “ Linda .”

It takes me a moment to place the name. “Linda? The witch hunter who partnered with the one who attacked you in clarity?”

“That’s the one. From what Celeste said, Mickey must’ve seen the light”—she snorts—“ or the flames really, but he’s gone gone . Not Linda, though. She was haunting her old team!”

“Team… you mean the witch hunters?”

“Yup!” Bridget frowns. “Wait. I forgot. That’s actually a bad thing.”

I don’t like the way Bridge says that… “Why?”

Bridget rolls her eyes. “Because Linda was hanging around because she wanted them to avenge her death or something ridiculous like that. And maybe I should feel bad ‘cause I, you know, incinerated her, but, hey, she stabbed Conall with a silver knife.”

Exactly. So why would Bridget feel bad about protecting her wolf using her own magic? Hm. It must be another of those former human things I just don’t understand.

“Anyway, she was haunting them, trying to tell another witch hunter pair where to find me. And Penelope… after she agreed to find out why they had a pissed-off spirit, she might’ve accidentally let slip that Linda was burned to death in Alaska.”

I blink. “The witch hunters hired a witch?” Another pause, and then: “The witch told the hunters about Dyea?”

“I thought the same thing. I had Celeste backing away when my hands started sparking. But she explained that Penelope doesn’t share with non-supes that she’s a witch.” Ah. That makes sense. “She bills herself as a medium, instead, and she has no idea they were witch hunters until one of the hunters’ victims appeared and tipped her off before she told her new clients too much. It was enough, though, since the witch hunters heard ‘burned’ and put two and two together.”

Crap. “And now they know that there’s a fire witch in Alaska.”

“Celeste thinks they suspect it. I mean, Alaska is fucking huge. It’ll take a while to find Dyea, especially now that the head witch came up herself to strengthen the wards around. If you don’t belong here, you’re not getting in.”

Once again, I think of Peter. Of how he stayed just outside of the borders, never finding his way in. And of Hank, too… Dyea welcomed him even though I ran, all because we both recognized each other instantly as each other’s mate. The sanctuary’s spell didn’t stop him because he belongs wherever I do.

Bridget sighs. “I mean, it sucks knowing that I have to keep looking over my shoulder for those damn hunters, but at least Penelope went right to Celeste so we know to expect it. And who knows?” Her grin becomes mischievous. “If your bear can rip off a vamp’s head, I’d love to see what he could do to a human witch hunter.”

I can’t quite keep back my prim smile of abject pride. Hank is normally so easygoing—unless he’s chasing the mate that bit him, then ran from him—but I have to admit: seeing the berserker side of my bear was very arousing.

Obviously .

My prim smile must’ve turned a little more lust-filled because Bridget’s eyes seem to twinkle in amusement—but it doesn’t last. Her pretty face turns hard as she tilts her head slightly, something behind me and to my left catching her attention.

And whatever it is? She’s not a fan.

She jerks her chin in the direction. “Heads up, Elise. Vampires at three o’clock.”

Oh. That would explain it.

Bridget has only known that supes exist for a handful of months. She was gracious enough to understand why I kept the secret of vampires and Fang Cities during the six months we shared an apartment in Clarity, but I don’t pretend to think that she only accepted my being a supe as easily as she did because she was still in shock over her own change in status. Even then, I had to show her my fangs to get her to believe that I really am a blooddrinker, and have spent many a night pointing out the inaccuracies of all of the vampire-themed media we watch together.

I mean, please don’t get me started on vampires that sparkle …

Poor Bridge. Her only real experiences with vampires come from her interactions with me and powerful Cadre vamps like Thorn and Jasper. Keeping her head down after her arrival in Dyea so that she didn’t trigger her fire magic and catch the witch hunter’s attention, she purposely avoided any of the sanctuary vamps. That, of course, was easy since they were avoiding us .

Then Julian started showing up everywhere I turned before he tried to claim me in front of Hank as some deranged idea of taking over the hidden supe town. There was that time Matilda followed me into the library when I was talking to Karl. Oh, and when Stacey and Helen joined us for movie night for the first time…

Suffice to say, Bridget might not have noticed all of the vamps crawling out of their cabins to peek at me, but she was right there when Julian hit me, then dug his fangs into my throat. Ever since then, she’s been pissed at the other vampires in Dyea, assuming they were in on Julian’s plan.

Since coming back to Dyea, I’ve wondered if she was right. In Hank’s den, I was able to keep my distance from the other vamps. Now that Bridge and I were enjoying a summer afternoon, taking a leisurely stroll toward the canteen where Mo promised to make his version of shrimp fettuccine for Bridget, it seems as if they decided to find me .

I glance behind me. A brunette with a bob and a blonde who wears her hair in enticing curls down to the middle of her back. Stacey and Helen again.

Helen lifts her hand, fingers bending in a shy, hesitant wave.

I lay my hand on Bridget’s shoulder. “Go on. I’ll meet you at the canteen in a minute.”

Her eyebrows jump up. “You sure?”

Stacey follows Helen’s lead and smiles encouragingly at me.

Turning to Bridge, I nod. “Yeah.”

Bridget glances over at the two female vampires. Instead of waving back at them, she lifts her hand, moving it so it’s palm up. With barely any effort at all, she conjures a fireball about the size of an orange. She makes sure that Helen and Stacey see it, then vanishes it just as easily.

“Don’t be too long, Elise,” she calls out. “I’ll hold your seat for you. Oh, and one for your bear, too.”

I have to swallow my grin. Never change, Bridge. Never change.

Once she’s started for the canteen, I glide over to where the vampires are waiting for me. “Yes?”

Their eyes meet, and Stacey exhales before facing me again. “Elise. Congratulations on your mating.”

Not what I expected from the other female, but I’ll accept it. “Thank you. I’m very lucky to have found my beloved.”

And it wasn’t Julian, was it?

As if she knows exactly where my thoughts went, Helen flushes, burning plenty of blood from her donor. “I want to make it very clear. What Julian did… none of the rest of us had any idea he’d take the idea of forming our own Dyea Cadre and twist it the way he did. Going rogue… he hid that from all of us.”

It would’ve been fairly easy to do so. Vampires are like Alaskan bear shifters. Left to our own devices, we’re solitary beings, only relying on those to give us our blood to survive. The benefit to Cadres is forcing vampires to build a community with a leader at the top who uses their power to keep his people in line.

I notice she doesn’t deny that the local vampires were discussing building a Cadre of their own. Just that Julian twisted it, but I already knew that. He wanted to lead, and when he was told he ‘didn’t have the temperament’, he decided that I would be the perfect stepping stone to his path to the top of a new Cadre.

I thought he was ridiculous—in so many ways, he was insane —but as Stacey and Helen watch me closely, I’m wondering if maybe he had a point.

So when Stacey takes over, pointing out that it would be a good thing for the vampires to have a leader to look out for our interests, I’m willing to listen.

To keep Bridget safe, maybe a more powerful vampire community is just what we need…

“This is nothing again the mayor,” Helen cuts in. “He is very respectable, and a sweet if odor-challenged male… but he’s a shifter.”

“The witches have covens,” Stacey adds. “And we want a Cadre.”

“And we would like you to lead it. We’re in agreement. The vampires and our humans. We want someone to advocate for us. Someone who will lead with rationality instead of fear. Someone like you, Elise.”

So Julian was right. But if they’re not interested in a fearsome leader like Thorn… “You do know that I come with a bear, right?”

“Honestly? His handling of Julian after he went rogue is what tipped the selection in your favor,” Stacey admits. “We need a smart leader, but your bear will protect you no matter what. In a Cadre, he can protect us, too.”

Hank would. I know he would. If that’s what I wanted…

“I would have to discuss this with my beloved.”

“Of course.” That’s bubbly Helen again. “Take all the time you need. We just wanted to discuss this with you while you were in town.”

They’ve probably been waiting to spring this request on me ever since Hank ripped off Julian’s head. And considering I’m waiting for Hank to return from his fishing trip with Conall—and I need to catch up with Bridget before her temper gets the better of her and she burns down the canteen—they’ll just have to wait.

Look at that. That’s how Thorn treated most of us in Homequarters.

Maybe I’m made out to be a Cadre leader after all.

I’m sitting in the living room, curled up on the couch with my legs tucked underneath me, my cheek pillowed on my hand as I watch a Supernatural rerun. Though I’m barely paying attention to the show as I wait intently for some sign that Hank’s drawing near.

When I finally do, I hop up, dashing to the door, flinging it open before he can push it in.

He’s empty-handed. I’m not too surprised. He might’ve gone fishing with Conall, but he never brings a pole or anything like that. Not when he can tap into his bear and catch one without even trying.

But he’s not holding any fish, either.

I laugh as I wrap my arms around his middle, enjoying the way he instantly encloses me in his embrace. “Let me guess. You ate all the salmon you caught?”

He nuzzles my hair with his chin. “You know I ate all the salmon we both caught.”

Hank ducks his head. I squeal, pushing away from him to avoid his fishy breath.

He laughs. “It wasn’t that many. Only about six. Conall’s got this real need to let his wolf roam, pissing all over the woods so other predators stay away. I didn’t have the heart to tell him that a bit of my musk would ward off twice as many, so I lumbered behind him, helping the fella out.”

Bridget was right. She expected that was what the males would be doing, and I honestly didn’t doubt her. My Hank’s taking his job as co-head of security seriously.

Let’s just hope that he’ll do the same when it comes to running a Cadre with me.

He will. I’m sure of it. And if I choose not to, that’s also fine. From the moment I bit him, from that first sip, he’s been mine. My life. My love.

My bear .