Nightfall (Devil's Night 4)

Fuck, yeah, it is. It’s an even better feeling when you know she feels the same way.

God, I missed Emmy already. She was all over me night before last, and it was like a new world opened up, and I could see decades of that ahead of us.

I knew she was the one for me.

Descending the hill, we headed into the village, Misha passing Damon the rest of his half-empty beer, and Damon happily swallowing the rest.

I loved watching their interactions the past couple of days. Misha was the only child now after Annie passed. Neither one of them had a brother, and if Misha’s dad married Damon’s estranged mother, they would be technically related.

They got in each other’s faces a lot over the years, but a bond was forming. I guess the older you get, the more you realize how much you need others. It would be nice for Damon to have a brother.

People crowded the streets ahead, “Light Up the Sky” blasting from Sticks and no cars getting through as restaurants and the tavern swarmed with patrons. Vendors sold the best catered food on the streets, Graymor Cristane picking up the whole tab for everyone tonight.

People looked our way, seeing us coming, and we tossed our drinks into the trash bin, heading into the fray.

“Will!” Simon came up, grabbed my hand in a shake and my neck in a hug.

“Hey,” I greeted, hugging him back.

“Congratulations,” someone said to Michael.

“Thank you.”

Food trucks lined the curbs, dealing dinner and drinks, bottles of champagne popped in every direction, and music played, the entire village lit up by just the gas lamps lining the sidewalks.

This was going to be an unconventional ceremony, I’d heard. They didn’t want a lot of pomp. Just a good time and their town around them.

Making our way through the people, old friends and new residents, I spotted the current basketball team in their school jackets all piled on the roof and hood of a Hummer, the one in the front tipping his chin at me when I made eye contact. The captain, I assumed.

Kind of cute of them. Being here for this like we were every year for McClanahan. Someone was teaching the kids right.

The entire park was cleared, not a soul on the grass except the chairs placed for our immediate family as we made our way up to the gazebo. Misha veered off to join Ryen sitting in the second row, and Micah and Rory took the two seats reserved for them. Damon and Kai looked for their women, but I only spotted Ivarsen with Christiane, Matthew Grayson sitting next to her, and Madden in Katsu Mori’s arms as he sat next to his wife.

Michael’s parents sat in the first row, his mother smiling ear to ear and blowing him a kiss as his father looked on, a coy smile on his face as if he was just biding his time.

Fucking hell.

But Michael knew what I was thinking and pulled me forward again. “Later,” he said. “Not tonight.”

“I know.”

He and his dad had never gotten along. I didn’t doubt Michael’s loyalty and commitment to see this through to its end.

But that didn’t mean I wasn’t itching for it.

I did a quick scan of the crowd again. Where the hell was Emmy? I hadn’t seen Winter or Banks, either, so hopefully that didn’t mean anything.

We climbed the steps to the gazebo, and I looked around at the open roof, noticing crystals hanging from the leaves of the trees overhead.

The black, wrought iron circle stretched about fifteen feet in diameter as vines wound around the railings and beams, up to the roof that connected to a point. But where panels should’ve gone to keep out the sun and rain, it was open inst

ead, the panels missing, so you could see up into the trees.

An officiant stood in the middle, a middle-aged judge with short brown hair and wine-colored lipstick.

I leaned over to Damon. “Who built this gazebo?”

But he just shrugged, not looking at me.