Midnight Marked (Chicagoland Vampires 12)
I looked back at Ethan, surprised at the comment, and found him staring at me, his gaze utterly serious.
“Are you all right?”
“I am,” he said. “More right than I’ve been in many, many years.” He put his hands on my face. “You are the bravest person I have ever known.”
“You aren’t so bad yourself,” I said with a grin, but Ethan’s expression stayed serious.
“What?” I asked, afraid for a moment that he’d been hurt or someone else had. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” he said, his thumb tracing a line across my cheek as he stared down at me. “I am precisely where I should be.”
And there, in the middle of the broken plaza, Ethan Sullivan went down on one knee. He stared up at me with eyes wide with love and pride and masculine satisfaction. He held out a hand, and I put my fingers in his palm.
The crowd of humans—thousands strong—who realized what he was doing roared with excitement. Cameras and cell phones began to flash around us.
“Holy shit!” I heard Mallory cry out somewhere behind us, but I couldn’t bring myself to look away from the warrior in front of me.
I put my free hand against my chest as if that would stop my throbbing heart from bursting through it. That didn’t stop the shaking of my fingers.
“You’re all right?” Ethan asked, glancing up at me with obvious amusement at my reaction. “I can stop if you’d like.”
I grinned at him. “No, you go ahead. I mean, you’re already down there.”
“Very well,” he said, and the crowd went silent as they strained to hear him.
“Caroline Evelyn Merit, you have changed my life completely. You’ve made it large and happier, and you have given me love and laughter. Perhaps most of all, you have reminded me what it means to be human. I’ve looked for four centuries to find you. I cannot fathom a world without you in it. Without your heart, and without your honor. Merit, my Sentinel and my love, will you marry me?”
xplosion felt as if the sun had settled onto the roof, and shook the building so hard I nearly lost my footing and was afraid it would crumble to the ground beneath us.
Shrapnel flew across the roof, stabbing into the walls and showering over the sides of the roof. As rock and metal shards rained down around us, I looked up. The sky was clear and dark, the lines of the QE gone.
Freed from the magic Sorcha had wrought, Ethan stumbled forward. I caught him, waited until he’d blinked confusion from his eyes.
“You’re all right?” I asked, helping him find his footing again.
“I’m fine.” He lifted a hand to my face. “You’re all right?”
I thought of Logan, of the decision I’d made. “I will be.”
We were interrupted by screams of frustration.
“No!” Reed shrieked, staring at the remains of the machine that his money had built, and which had ultimately failed him.
He walked to Sorcha, cracked a hand across her face. “What have you done? What have you done? You’ve ruined everything!”
Ethan growled and, before I could stop him, moved toward Reed with the gaze of a very pissed-off alpha male.
Mallory pulled Sorcha away from the fray, her cheek flaming red from Reed’s violence, and kept her still with the threat of magic that percolated in her hand.
As Ethan approached him, Reed looked gratifyingly unsure of his steps. I decided Ethan needed to handle him, and it didn’t take him long. Adrien Reed was a man who’d gained power through others’ work: others’ misery, others’ criminality, others’ fights. When push came to shove, and he had no minions to protect him or magic to back him up, the facade crumbled.
He offered Ethan a couple of testing jabs, but those seemed to be for form. And when Ethan used a right cross—one of his favorite moves—Reed hit the deck.
“And that,” Mallory said, “is how we do it in Chicago.”
• • •
My grandfather found me standing over Logan, Ethan standing over Reed, and Mallory standing over Sorcha Reed. We probably all looked happier than we should have been. Well, Mallory and I. Ethan still looked disappointed that Reed hadn’t put up more of a fight, had proven to be the coward we’d suspected.