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Dark Debt (Chicagoland Vampires #11) Page 91
Author: Chloe Neill

Mallory shifted her gaze to Catcher, looked at him with love and awe and humility that made my tears start all over again. “I do.”

Jeff nodded, gestured toward them. “There don’t appear to be many dry eyes right now, but just to make certain everyone’s appropriately emotional, would you like to address each other, offer some vows?”

Catcher scratched absently at his neck, and I waited for his gruff refusal. But instead he nodded deeply. “Yeah, actually, I would.”

“Me, too,” Mallory said. She handed me the peony, and they took each other’s hands, turned to face each other.

For a moment, they said nothing. They stood with love between them, in a silence that spoke volumes more than words ever could.

I ignored the tears that fell now, let them slide down my cheeks.

“We’ve had some tough times, kid,” he said, and a warm chuckle spread through the crowd. “I know, understatement. So they were the toughest times. Times when we didn’t know which way was up, or who we were individually—or together. I let you down. Jesus, did I let you down. I let my own petty bullshit blind me, let it keep me from seeing you for who you were, and who you were becoming. And that’s on me, and it will be forever.

“But it didn’t matter that I’d let you down, because you were strong enough for both of us. You put in the effort. You did the work, even when it was humiliating. Hell, you did the work because it was humiliating, and you started from scratch. And that meant a lot. ’Cause yeah, you did it for you, so you could find yourself again. But I think you also did it for us.”

Tears spilled over Mallory’s lashes as she nodded.

“I love you,” he said. “I don’t like to talk about feelings, primarily because I have testicles, and I know how ridiculous this sounds, but I think I’ve known I loved you since the first time I saw you, right before I kicked Merit’s ass for the first time at the gym.

“Since that moment, I never stopped loving you. I was afraid for a while, sure, but I never stopped. And I won’t. For better or worse, I won’t ever stop.”

“Well said,” Ethan remarked, and we all applauded the speech before turning our eyes to Mallory.

“I haven’t known much of family,” she said. “A bit here and there, but not in the way most people do. That bothered me for a really long time, and I searched for it for a really long time. And then I made a new kind of family.” She glanced at me. “I met Merit, and we had some wonderful times.”

I smiled back at her.

“And then I met Catcher, and we had some wonderful times. But something was still off, inside me.” She frowned. “I screwed up pretty monumentally, mostly because I mistook power for comfort. I was looking for peace, to fill that well inside me that hadn’t ever really been full before, and I thought magic was the way to do it.” She looked around at all of us. “I don’t know if I’ve ever said that to you all, but I think it’s important that I say it now. I thought I needed to fill that empty space. But the more I filled it with magic, the darker and emptier it became.”

Tears slipped to fall down her cheeks. “I betrayed a lot of people in that time, a lot of trust.” She shook her head, smiled a little. “But you people were stubborn, and you wouldn’t let me go. You just kept interfering, trying to pull me away from it. And eventually, you did.”

She looked back at Catcher. “That darkness is still there. That emptiness. It’s like a well in the plane of my soul. But I’ve learned, I guess, that I have to fill that up. That it’s my responsibility to do that. So, I guess I wanted to explain that to you all, to let you know that I’m working on it.”

She shook her head again as if to clear it, raised her gaze to Catcher. “Of all the supernatural bombs dropped on me that very first week, you were easily the biggest. Pain-in-the-ass sorcerer, grumpy most of the time, addicted to Lifetime. But you loved me, even with the well, even with the darkness. And you didn’t give up, even when you could have walked away. And that means more to me than you will ever know.” She sniffed. “I love you, Catcher Eustice Bell.”

Catcher’s eyes, suddenly red-rimmed, bloomed with tears. “I love you, Mallory Delancey Carmichael.”

Jeff cleared his throat. “In that case, I think it’s time to say that by the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife! You can kiss the bride!”

As we erupted with applause, Catcher drew Mallory toward him, cupped her face in his hands, and kissed her so furiously even I blushed. When he finally drew back, Mallory’s cheeks were pink and flushed, her eyes glazed, a glow of happiness around her.

Love wasn’t perfection. It wasn’t always roses and candy. Hell, it wasn’t even mostly roses and candy. Sometimes it was battling back fear that loomed like a leviathan, trying to find a way through misery, being grateful to have a companion who knew your strengths and weaknesses, and loved you not just in spite of them, but because of them.

Love was acceptance. Love was bravery. Love was sticking it out.

One day, Ethan said silently, squeezing my hand, promising me what was to come.

When the time is right, I said, and squeezed back, the agreement between us reached.

When the time is right, he agreed, and pressed a kiss to my temple.

Still in Catcher’s embrace, Mallory smiled at me, pointed to the peony in my hand. “You know, Mer, you’re holding the bouquet. I think that means you’re next.”

And perhaps sooner rather than later, Ethan said with a chuckle.

*   *   *

When Catcher and Mallory dashed off to their make-do honeymoon, and the rest of the guests had left, Ethan and I walked inside again.

He wanted to check his messages, determine if there was any other business he’d need to attend to before, we’d decided, we’d take the rest of the night off for an evening of pizza and movies in our apartments. Nothing sounded better.

At least until Ethan’s office door closed, and the lock slipped into place with a quick snap of metal.

I looked up from my seat on the couch, found him staring at me. His jacket was off, his shirt unbuttoned at the top, hands on his lean hips.

“Sullivan?”

“Sentinel.” He strode forward. “I believe we have some unfinished business.”

We did. And with Julien Burrows behind us, the threat of him gone, the desire I’d banked came rushing back. I rose from the sofa, walked toward him.

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