Except this was not a ghost.
As the moonlight shone down on his white-streaked hair, his eyes glinted in a nasty way. And with a smile of pure evil, he bared his fangs and pointed at her with a knife that gleamed.
Ahmare turned and lunged for the gun she’d put on the bedside.
When she wheeled around, she brought the muzzle up with her to shoot.
She did not pull the trigger.
No reason to.
Directly behind the male, materializing like the Grim Reaper, Duran’s larger body appeared from out of the shadows. He was enormous behind his father, his arms hanging with menace, his head tilted down.
Her male had not left her as it turned out.
And he was going to settle all scores.
Ahmare lowered her gun. The Dhavos was so fixated on her, he didn’t even sense what was upon him. But that was going to be an issue fixed all too soon.
Shifting off the bed, she approached the window, and Duran’s father seemed to take this as an invitation, his nose flaring as if he were trying to scent her through the glass.
His face was rapt, his eyes obsessed.
Grasping the edge of the heavy curtain, Ahmare drew the folds of fabric across the glass to block the view. She was halfway to home when the Dhavos frowned and tilted his head. Then he turned around— His scream was muffled.
And then there were many others.
With the drapes shut, Ahmare tightened the sash on her robe and walked calmly out of the bedroom.
She was waiting for her male when the front door to the house swung wide.
Duran was breathing heavily, and blood ran down his chin, dropped off his fingers, and stained all of his clothes.
His eyes, as they met hers, were wary, as if he didn’t know what kind of reception he was going to get.
Ahmare opened her arms. “Come here, my love. Let me hold you.”
Duran stumbled across the slate floor and fell against her. As great sobs came out of him and his legs buckled, she eased him down and arranged him in her lap. Covering him with her body, sheltering him with her love, she murmured in his ear.
Telling him, and believing it, that the score had been evened. The end had come.
And that he was the very best son to his mahmen that any male could ever be.
EPILOGUE
Six Months Later . . .
I CAN’T BELIEVE THIS IS ours,” Ahmare said as she and Nexi walked into the gym. The space was ten thousand square feet of treadmills, ellipticals, weights, and machines. There were two studios, as well, one for aerobics and one for spin classes, and also offices for the personal trainers and full showers and locker rooms for members.
“Big opening tomorrow.” Nexi put her palm out. “Put ’er here, partner.”
Ahmare smacked palms and then smiled at Rudie. “Hey, you ready?”
Rudie, the young redheaded guard, had taken to office management like a pro. With an automated speech machine, he could communicate with all their employees, and it was good to see his shy personality shine.
He’d certainly earned the happiness.
“I brought us something to celebrate with.” Ahmare nodded toward the staff break room. “Where are the boys, though?”
Duran—who was now going by the name Theo, a change that had been deliberate on his part and easy for everyone else to make—and Ahlan came in right on cue, bunches of helium balloons bobbing over their heads, the broad smiles of bonded males on their faces.
Theo, Ahmare reflected as she smiled at her mate, was a great name for a great male. And what a wonderful way to honor his mahmen.
And that wasn’t the only thing that was new to him. After he’d spent a lifetime in the cult and then as a prisoner, she’d had some concerns about how he would adjust to the modern world, and she was relieved that he was doing really well. He liked Netflix, Starbucks, and Instagram. He wasn’t so crazy for the noises and traffic of Caldwell, and he was suspicious of the number of humans that seemed to him to be everywhere. But on the whole, he was doing great.
So was her brother.
Ahlan went up and kissed Nexi on the mouth, bending her body backward and whispering things that were no doubt fit only for the Shadow’s ears.
Theo held out a set of balloons that . . . had marker over them. “I had to cross out the ‘boy’ and work some magic.”
Ahmare laughed. Each one of the balloons had “Atta GIRL” on them, and she could only imagine the care he’d taken to correct the sexism.
“Thank you, they’re beautiful,” she said as she put her arms around him and they lingered over a kiss. “And I’m going to show you my gratitude later tonight.”
“Can I go buy more balloons right now?”
Fitting herself under his arm, she pulled him in tight, and the five of them walked back to the break room. Various opening-night issues needed to be discussed, and Rudie’s electronic voice as he started down the list was as natural-sounding as anyone else’s as far as the group was concerned.