The Kindred

Epilogue

Luther woke to an empty bed. He sat up, immediately concerned until he saw the faint light beneath the closed bedroom door.

Slipping from the room, he went down the hall to the spare bedroom Gaby liked to use.

He found her on the floor, dressed only in one of his T-shirts, a box pulled out from beneath the bed. A gun had been tossed atop the guest bed, unneeded, out of the way. Papers were everywhere.

So Gaby had been hard at work on her Servant series. He should have known.

Beneath the overhead light, her dark hair shone and her lashes left shadows on her soft cheeks. She had papers spread out around her, ink in hand as she drew with a fevered intensity.

Contentment settled over Luther and he leaned into the doorframe. For a long time he watched her.

Finally Gaby paused, studied her finished drawing, and without looking up, said, “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“I don’t mind.” Of course she’d known he was there. She had tempered the prodigious paladin inside her, but her acute perceptions remained—and he was glad.

She wouldn’t be Gaby without them. “We need to get you a proper desk.”

She looked up with a small smile—a genuine smile that stole his heart and made him feel like life could never be more perfect.

“I don’t mind the floor. When I need to work, I can do it anywhere.”

After a trip to the hospital to ensure everyone was okay, Luther had used special connections to guarantee that the girls were released back into his and Gaby’s care. Bliss was better, but still too frazzled to deal with two children. The exhausted kids slept in a room together, peaceful, secure in the knowledge that Gaby would protect them.

As she protected everyone.

Gesturing him in, Gaby said, “Look at this.”

In his boxers, Luther joined her on the cold floor. Gaby didn’t complain about the chill, so he did the manly thing and sucked up his own discomfort.

The still-wet ink sketch she held depicted two girls—and a family.

Unsure what it meant, Luther took it from her to better study it. Her artistic skill forever amazed him. But then, anything Gaby did, she did better than most.

“Dacia and Mali?”

“Yes.” She lifted the previous pages and showed them to him. “I finished up my story with Fabian.”

Luther laid the paper down and tucked her hair behind her ear. “You didn’t want to catch a little sleep first?”

“It’s . . . cathartic for me. You know, to get it out. Sort of my way of putting it to rest.”

“I understand.” He couldn’t stop touching her. She was his now, and he’d keep her. Forever.

“I had wondered if my duty would be done. But . . . She searched through the papers and found a specific one. “I think we’re just going to keep working together, you know, like we did tonight.”

At the thought of going through another night like the last one, a knot twisted in Luther’s guts. But what the hell. He could live with that.

He couldn’t live without Gaby. “If that’s what you want, it works for me.”

“After I write some more, I’ve got that picture of the girls. We’re going to find the perfect family for them. It won’t be us, but they’ll stay close to us all the same. We’ll have a role in their lives.”

If she said it was so, Luther believed her. “I only want you happy, Gaby. If you want the girls to stay with us, then—”

She shook her head. “We’re going to be busy. The girls need someone who will give them a routine dinner and bedtime, and attention with their homework.” She glanced at him and grinned. “That’s not us.”

Probably not. But he’d try his damnedest to adjust for her.

“I don’t know what will come up next, but this picture sort of drew itself.”

He took the paper she handed him. It was a depiction of the main protagonist of the series, a female paladin who stood outside, hair blowing back. In the distance, a sun rose.

She was alone. Luther didn’t like that. “I know that woman is you, Gaby.”

“It is.” With the tip of a finger, she traced the sun. “This is like your aura, Luther. Always touching me, changing me.”

“And that’s okay?”

She nodded. “It means a new beginning, you know?”

“With me.” It wasn’t a question.

Laying the paper aside, Gaby turned to him, crawled into his lap, and hugged him. “Yes, with you. I never knew love until I met you. I couldn’t even dream it, because I had no idea what it should be.” She leaned back and touched his face. “But it’s you. With me. What you feel for me . . . and what I feel for you.”

Luther’s heart pounded hard. “You love me?”

Very slowly, Gaby nodded. “I wasn’t sure at first, only because it’s so new and different, and kind of weird.”

Luther grinned. “Weird, huh?”

“I woke up ready to write, and for the first time that I can remember, I felt no dread. I felt only contentment. With you, everything is easier. Being me is easier.”

“That’s because you’re a really wonderful person.”

She let out a breath. “Only because you say it, can I start to believe it’s true.”

He hugged her tight. “I’m glad.”

“I used to curse my life, but now, with you, I look forward to the future and what we might accomplish. Together, it all seems more possible.”

“Your duty to save others is not an easy one, Gaby. It’s understandable that you disliked it.”

She shrugged. “Well, I might have the duty of saving others, but you saved me. I bet that was a whole lot harder.” She grinned. “I know I’m not always easy to be around.”

Luther laughed. “You do keep things interesting.”

“I love you, Luther Cross.”

Finally, she’d said it. Or rather, blurted it out in a rush. But the impact was the same.

“Do you need to do any more writing?” He desperately needed her. Right now.

Gaby looked at him, knew his thoughts, and her features sharpened in awareness. Eyes glittering, she said, “You know, cop, I do believe the writing will wait.”

Luther scooped her up, more than ready for what the future would bring. With Gabrielle Cody, he could hardly wait.