Nightfall (Devil's Night 4) - Page 351

He looked away, back to Octavia out on the lawn. “They’re too scared of me to say anything.”

I groaned silently. We were afraid of this. Mads was certainly unnerving without any help from us, but our names also intimidated people well enough.

It was all well and good that we’d found each other and made our family together, but to outsiders it probably looked… Well, I had no idea how it looked. All I knew was the more powerful you were—the more successful you were—the more enemies you had, and people would always try to tear you down. Our kids would hear stories about us. Stories about our businesses and Devil’s Night and the catacombs were being made up right now, no doubt. They would have to deal with the pressure of our legacy.

Or not.

“You’re whoever you want to be, Mads,” I told them. “Don’t ever forget that. Don’t look at the world through anyone else’s eyes but your own. Not mine, not your dad’s…not anyone’s.”

We wanted to build something new—something that would last—but we always knew times would change, and our children would want a reality of their own. Mads might not want what we’ll leave him, but if he did want it someday, he’d look great in a mask.

No pressure.

He gave me a tight smile, as much as he could force himself to muster, and I smiled back, climbing down the planks.

Indie and Jett sat on a picnic blanket, gabbing away, while Finn and II laid on the grass, tapping away on their electronics.

I shot up one more glance at Mads, watching him watch Octavia battle a tree trunk with her sword, and tipped my head farther back, seeing the clouds almost black as they damn near touched the trees.

I headed back inside, searching the house for the adults. We were still expecting Alex, Aydin, Micah, Rory…

“Emergency services will be standing by should Tropical Storm Esme turn,” I heard Banks announce as I headed to the study.

I rounded the doorway, seeing her sitting behind a desk with bookshelves displayed behind her, and the brass lamp casting a soft glow around the room.

A camera sat in front of her, the man behind the lens peering through as he recorded.

“But I urge you, if able, to remain indoors as strong winds are expected,” Banks continued. “A curfew is in effect beginning at eight p.m. this evening, and that does include Devil’s Night festivities.”

I grinned, catching her eye and seeing her falter. She wore a deep blue blouse, her dark hair picture perfect, and her lips painted red.

“Please avoid low-lying and flood-prone areas, and keep flashlights and batteries easily accessible,” she told the citizens. “We are not recommending evacuation, but please keep abreast of the storm’s development per your emergency managers. Exercise caution and stay inside.” She peered into the camera. “Thank you.”

“And…we’re off,” her assistant announced.

Banks’s poised expression fell, and she exhaled, rising from the chair.

I dropped my gaze, seeing the blue jeans she hid under the desk. I chuckled. Some things never changed.

She rounded the desk, grabbing her phone.

“We talked about you not saying Devil’s Night,” her assistant said, jogging up next to her.

She didn’t slow down as she headed out of the room. “Yes, we talked about it.”

Apparently, the word devil made some voters nervous, so Banks’s campaign manager was trying to rename it.

But no fear, right? Banks did what she wanted.

I pulled up to her side, walking with her. “You know no one’s staying in tonight in Thunder Bay, right?”

It was Devil’s Night, after all.

“Of course, I know that.”

Yeah. As our district’s representative, she had to go on air and tell everyone to stay home tonight just to say she did.

“Where’s Kai?” I asked.

Tags: Penelope Douglas Devil's Night Romance
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