Leonor coughed once more, then pushed away from her guards, stalking toward Terry. “What was that?”

“That was a very smart attack, Leonor. Whoever grabbed your child did not want him talking about what he knew.”

Gemma handed him a warm towel to wipe his face. “I heard no vampires approach. Did you?”

“No. All I felt was the normal human activity on the street.”

Leonor’s guard added, “And I sensed no danger from the boat until I heard you yell, my lady.”

“They used humans?” Leonor gaped. “Is it possible?”

“Smart, in a way,” Gemma said. “We usually don’t consider them as threats. And armed with the tear gas...”

“It was a well-planned attack.” Terry shrugged off the humans who were trying to be helpful and directed them to clean up the broken glass. “They didn’t try to attack any of us. They knew they’d lose. It was a grab. Surprise us. Throw the gas canisters. Grab Guillermo. He probably went willingly, thinking it was a rescue.”

Leonor’s face was grim. “I don’t imagine it was.”

“I agree,” Gemma said. “I very much doubt we will see your youngest again, Lea. I am so sorry.”

The flash of grief in her eyes was the only indication Terry saw of her loss. “He signed his own death warrant when he chose to work against me. I am only sorry I could not get more information from him. I am grateful for your loyalty, Gemma. And yours, Terrance. This will not be forgotten. Please excuse this horrid attack on your home. The repairs are my responsibility, of course.”

As Gemma and Leonor started on the polite noises of hostess and guest, Terry surveyed the room. The Spanish guards hovered around Gemma and their leader; Luisa directed the humans in the clean up of the glass and clearing the rooms. Fans were brought in, but quickly taken away when one of Leonor’s guards was revealed as a wind vampire.

Terry stood at the broken window, staring into the lights of the harbor that twinkled as live music drifted in from the bars and clubs in town. Just then, he saw a large yacht moving away from the dock, a lone figure standing on the deck, looking back at him.

“Gemma,” he called, and his mate rushed to his side.

“What is it, darling?”

He blinked, trying to see more of the boat, but the moon was only a sliver in the sky, and the pale grey silhouette was already obscured by the mist. “Not sure. Might be nothing. Is everyone well?”

“Other than annoyed, Leonor is fine. It was obviously not an attack, only an extraction. Guillermo was being watched.”

“Apparently. He won’t be alive for long.”

“No, I doubt he will.”

He felt her energy slide along his a moment before she knit their fingers together. “Are you sure you’re all right? What were you looking at?”

He shrugged. “Probably nothing.”

Gemma cocked an eyebrow. “Possibly something?”

He smiled. “We’ll see, won’t we?”

“Whatever it is, I doubt we’ll be bored.”

“With you?” Terry threw an arm around her shoulder. “I can’t even imagine.”

Epilogue

Gemma found him in the large workshop in the Temple. It used to contain his sire’s old holding cells and interrogation rooms, but Terry had turned it into storage and workspace, maintaining the old water channels that led to the river.

“Terry?”

She heard the rasping sound as she entered the stairwell. His amnis reached out, touching hers for a moment, before beckoning her farther underground. She followed the sound to see him working on the shell of his new sailboat. His shirt was stripped off and he wore only a pair of work pants as he methodically planed and sanded the wood at human speed.

Gemma could tell he was thinking. Though it didn’t tire him, the routine of physical exertion was one way Terry had always chosen to quiet his thoughts so he could make sense of the jumble of information his immortal brain processed. Some vampires played chess. Gemma still rode horses. Terry built boats.

He paused and glanced up, beckoning her over with a finger. In the background, she could hear the water lapping in the underground canal.

Terry didn’t say a word, just took her hand and ran her fingers along the board he’d been sanding at the workbench. His amnis wrapped up her arm as she touched the soft wood, a tingle spreading from her fingertips, up the inside of her wrist, and over her shoulder until Terry’s energy was followed by the soft feel of his lips on the inside of her elbow.

“What—”

“Shhh,” he whispered, then he was leaning into her neck, a hint of stubble scraping against her collarbone as he kissed her.

Since Spain, he had become even more expressive in his affection, knowing instinctually how much she craved it. It was far more than the physical relationship they had shared before. He had become as much a part of Gemma as her own limbs.

He held her there, one hand resting on her waist, the other holding her cheek gently as he leisurely enjoyed her mouth. After a few moments, he pulled away, smiling.

“Hello, luv.”

“Miss me?” He’d seen her at nightfall when he woke.

“Always.” Terry looked down. “Sorry. Got your dress a bit dusty.”

Gemma only shrugged and looked over at the new project. “It’s looking more like a boat every week.”

“That’s the goal now, isn’t it?” He grinned. “What are you busy with tonight?”