A Werewolf, A Vampire, and A Fae Walk Into A Bar (Book 1 of The Last Witch Series) novel Chapter 52

After a long moment of silence, I turn back to this utterly bizarre and beautiful little family I now have.

“Okay,” I say, forcefully wiping tears away from my eyes. “Now we have to head back to the bar so the community can say their goodbyes to Tilly and Joe the Irish way.”

“Here, here,” AJ says, taking a swig from the bottle of Powers.

I pass Zev the baby and walk over to Darius, who’s still standing at the cliff’s edge, his gaze lost in the horizon.

I slip a hand into his and he squeezes it. “She was an incredible woman,” he says, referring to Nanny.

“Yes, she was.”

He looks down at me. “She was so proud of you.”

That means more than he’ll ever know, or maybe he does know, I realize, as I feel a swell of love for him.

“It’s time to go,” I say softly. “But I can’t show up to the bar glowing.”

His nostrils flare and eyes dilate as I tilt my neck.

As his teeth sink into my flesh, I close my eyes and wrap my arms around him.

He holds me up as my legs wobble, and he takes just enough to ease the magic building up in me. The pleasure and pain spiral in me and I wish we were alone, because there’s so much more I want to do with this man.

But that will have to wait.

We have time now.

We have my whole life, it would seem.

There’s a line outside Morgan’s when we return. I keep the star tucked in my pocket, with a small hole so it can stay in contact with my skin. It’s not an elegant solution, but it works well enough for now.

Zev shifts into wolf form before we enter, since that’s how he’s known here. Though he complains about it, I think he secretly enjoys not having to talk to anyone.

We go in through the back so I can unlock the front door from the inside.

Rune and AJ get in place behind the bar. Zev stays at my side wherever I am--a gesture that now carries added weight given our relationship, and Darius takes the baby so I have free hands to hug and greet people.

I unlock the door and folks I’ve known my whole life pour in. That night, everyone shares stories about my grandmother, from her younger days to more recent years. She touched so many lives. There are many toasts and many tears, but also so much laughter. And Joe’s spot at the bar is kept empty, with his favorite beer in front of it. We toast to him, to the man who would wake in the middle of the night to help a friend, no questions asked.