Turning, she started walking again and added, "And you're free to do that. But I hope you don't, kiddo, because Domitian has waited a long time for you already and he deserves to be happy. As do you. And it pains me to know you're struggling with this when it's all so simple."
Sarita followed, thinking it really was simple. She had wanted to die that day to save Domitian a lifetime, a very long lifetime, of guilt. And she would die for him now to save his life if necessary. He was a special man, so patient and kind and passionate. She'd never met anyone like him. Never dated anyone she respected as much or cared as much about. She did love him, Sarita acknowledged, whether she'd known him as long as society would deem long enough or not.
"Anyway," Eshe said after a moment. "I just wanted to say that before we leave. And to again welcome you to the family, because you're a part of it now whether you admit it today or next year."
Sarita stopped walking and frowned. "Leave? I thought you were all staying until Dressler was found?"
"That boat has sailed, unfortunately," she said flatly. "We've got information suggesting that he's left the country. Lucian's arranging for a couple of Rogue Hunters to stay on the island in case he tries to come back here. They'll be working with a couple of Rogue Hunters the South American Council is assigning to the island and the island will be under both councils' purview, at least until Dressler is caught. But in the meantime, the rest of us are going home."
Breathing out a sigh, she smiled wryly and added, "I was looking forward to seeing my husband, Armand, but apparently that's not going to happen for a while yet."
"No?" Sarita asked curiously.
Eshe shook her head. "Some rogues took advantage of our absence and have caused a good deal of trouble back home while so many of us were away. We have a couple of messes to clean up and some fires to help put out." She shrugged. "Having been a mortal cop, you know how it is. While the cop's away, the perps will play, right?"
Sarita smiled faintly. She'd never heard that one. She'd have to remember to tell it to Jackson.
"Listen, that's something else I wanted to say," Eshe added now. "If you ever get tired of playing cops and robbers with the mortal miscreants, we have some real rotten rogues that need putting down. And every job saves lives. There's no dragging cats out of trees or slapping the wrists of shoplifters. Every rogue is a really bad dude who is killing or controlling mortals. And I already talked to Mirabeau about it. She liked you too and said you could ride with us. Just a thought," she added. "No pressure. And the job will still be there ten, twenty, or even a hundred years down the road if you'd rather stay and help out the hybrids for a bit."
"Did you read that out of my mind?" Sarita asked with amusement.
"Didn't have to," Eshe assured her. "You glow when you're helping them, just like you do when Domitian is around. It's obvious it makes you happy."
They had walked full circle and were approaching the house again, and Sarita frowned when she saw her abuela rushing toward them.
"Looks like I'm not the only one who wants to talk to you today," Eshe said, eyeing her grandmother with interest. "I'll leave you two to it."
"Eshe?" Sarita said as the woman started away. When the older immortal turned back she said, "Thank you."
Eshe smiled. "Don't tell the boys we had this heart to heart. They think I'm a hard-ass and I like it that way."
"Oh please," Sarita said with amusement. "You are a hard ass."
"Yeah." She grinned. "But so are you. That's why Mirabeau and I like you. See you around, kiddo."
"Later," Sarita said with a smile and then watched as the two women passed each other. Eshe smiled at her grandmother easily, and Maria Reyes smiled nervously back, eyeing her a little leerily until she was well past her and had reached Sarita.
"She is one of those vampires, no?" her grandmother asked in a whisper, her hand going to the crosses at her throat as she glanced back at Eshe. She was wearing only two today, Sarita noticed. That was progress.
"She is an immortal, abuela," she said firmly. "Like me."
"Si. A vampire." She turned back to her and shook her head sadly. "So young and pretty to be a vampire."
"Again, not a vampire. And not so young either," Sarita said with amusement. "She's older than you."
"No," her grandmother said, turning to stare at the woman again. "No."
"Si," Sarita assured her. She almost told her Eshe's age, but decided it might give the poor woman a heart attack, so asked, "Did you want to talk to me?"