Though I did try to remind myself that we hadn’t truly lost them. That, wherever souls who passed in peace did go after death, somehow in spirit they were still with us… And they would live on through their children. Their three brave, beautiful children, whose features reminded me of their incredible parents every time I looked at them.
I took a few more minutes to compose myself before stepping back, my eyes leaving the gravestones. I continued on my walk around the courtyard, though I still remained lost in memories and contemplation.
So much in The Shade had grown and prospered in the time that had passed.
Tejus and Hazel had undergone their vampiric transformation (as had Ruby and Ash, who still lived in Nevertide)—and Derek and I had great-grandchildren. Our great-grandson, Phoenix Hellswan, was now eighteen years old, and similar to his father Tejus in almost every way. I loved him deeply, had been grateful for every second of watching him grow into a young man—from the fat bouncing baby phase that his mother and I felt was far too short, to the imperious years of being a toddler, making demands like a little prince, and then to the moody early-to-mid teen years (his father and mother had both been relieved when those were over), to now—a handsome, intelligent and fierce warrior with integrity in bucket loads.
We also had two great-granddaughters.
Vita Conway, born to Grace and Lawrence, was the same age as Phoenix. She was a beautiful, semi-fae girl with brilliant turquoise eyes and gold-brown hair, and her face looked so much like her mother that over the years it was becoming harder to tell the two apart. Vita was shy and quiet, intent on developing her inherent fae abilities. Fascinated by nature and the cosmos, both she and Zerus, Tejus’s brother, spent many hours trying to decipher messages and order in the night’s sky. I knew she would grow to become an amazing member of GASP—even more so when she broke free of her shy reserve.
I smiled to myself as I thought of my other great-granddaughter. She certainly had no issues with reserve. Serena Hellswan, Hazel and Tejus’s second child, was the polar opposite of Vita. Serena was a firecracker—a ball of energy and determination who ran around without ever letting up. Ever since she was a child she’d found it impossible to sit still, wanting to walk long before she could crawl, and so early to talk that it had shocked everyone. Tejus and Phoenix had their work cut out for them. Serena had the most protective father and brother in the world, and she constantly fought to carve out her own independence, determined that she didn’t need the constant guardianship of either of them. It was only the profound love that their family shared which stopped epic fights from erupting—and the presence of Hazel, who was always mediator, acting as a buffer against Tejus and Phoenix’s protective instincts. I knew that one day Serena would be glad of both her father and brother’s desire to keep her sheltered, but at seventeen, she wanted her freedom—and was determined to get it.
Serena Hellswan, Vita Conway and Aida Blackhall—the half-werewolf daughter of Victoria and Bastien—had struck up a firm friendship. Though Serena was a year younger than Aida and Vita, it never seemed to matter. The girls were as thick as thieves, their escapades as children legendary. Together, with Serena as the most likely ringleader, they had caused more mischief in The Shade than a bunch of brownies. Still, that was in the past. Now well on their way to adulthood, the girls were maturing, slowly becoming the exceptional women I knew they would be.
We also had another addition to The Shade. Yelena, Benedict’s childhood friend, had visited us every summer since her return from Nevertide, right up until she was sixteen. She had stopped coming then, sending Benedict a letter telling him that she had a boyfriend now, and would be moving to New York to finish her final years of school. Benedict had told everyone that he didn’t mind—that he was glad she wouldn’t be coming to ‘bother’ him every summer. That had lasted for two years while his mother and I waited patiently for him to see sense. Two years later, just after his eighteenth birthday, Benedict had started to grow restless. He packed his bags, left his mom a note that he’d gone in search of her, and disappeared from The Shade.
He was back a month later. He wouldn’t speak a word to us about what had happened, and refused to even talk to Hazel or Rose about whether or not he’d found her. It was two months after his return that Yelena called Corrine’s phone and arrived at Benedict’s door, bags in hand. The couple hadn’t parted since, and were now both vampires—and married, with a twelve-year-old daughter. I never found out what happened when he went looking for Yelena, and perhaps I’d never know… but as long as they remained happy together, I was thrilled.