Boone & Vael—A Lorewood Bonus Scene

The jukebox was silent. That should have been my first warning.

“Motherfucker,” I grumble when I find another pint glass with a chip in it. This place is falling apart. Doesn’t stop the idiots from packing it every night.

Last call was over an hour ago. Took another thirty minutes to pry the regulars off their stools. Now it’s quiet.

Too quiet.

And my husband hasn’t said a damn word all night.

Five years with that giant bastard has taught me one thing: a quiet Vael is bad news. Especially for me.

“Hey, boss,” I call, testing the waters.

Maybe it’s the good kind of quiet. The kind that ends with my back against the bar and his mouth on mine.

But I already know.

Something ripples low between my rib cage and hip bone.

Fuck. Bad quiet.

When he doesn’t answer, I set the glass down and head his way.

“Boss? Hey, Vael,” I say a little louder.

Vael slowly turns toward me and when those honey-gold eyes meet mind, my knees almost buckle.

Goddamn it. I hate when he does that—when he exists to beautifully in such an ugly-ass world.

Stupid knees.

Stupid eyes.

Stupid Vael.

A small growl builds in my throat. The asshole chuckles.

“Yes, Boone. I hear you,” Vael responds quietly, his eyes never leaving the table. The tattoos on his arms flicker, and when he balls his hands into fists, his golden bracelets clink against the abused Formica tabletop.

Flickering tattoos? Shit.

Bad news.

Maybe he’s finally sick of me. The nightmares. The panic. The clingy bullshit I pretend doesn’t exist.

The second I think it, something digs into my kidney. Hard.

Nosey bastard.

“Thought you didn’t listen in. Wasn’t that the deal?” I growl inside my head.

“Your thoughts are quiet loud, Boone. Especially the one ones that make you sound like a complete moron.”

Jesus Christ. I roll my eyes without thinking, then feel another pinch near my kidney, like someone flicked it.

I look back at the man who dragged my sick, fucked-up heart back to life.

I don’t call anything beautiful. There’s rot inside everyone. Just gotta peel back enough layers.

But Vael? He’s goddamn beautiful.

His golden tattoos pulse against his caramel skin, catching in the black sweet of his mohawk.

My dumbass heart flutters, and I force myself to focus.

“Just tell me, Vael,” I sigh, already expecting the worst.

“I have put this off as long as I could. Something must be said. I do not want you angry with me,” Vael says while picking at his nails—a very unVael-like thing to do.

I grab his hands and lean down so he’ll look me in the eye.

“Hey. We’ve been through a whole buncha shit already. Whatever it is, we can handle it.”

Vael looks at me with a grimace. “War,” he says, like that explains it.

“War.” It’s a statement and a question.

“Yes, Boone. War. It’s coming to Lorewood. Soon. I don’t think you and I are here by accident,” Vael blurts out.

I was expecting bad news. But this? War in this shitty little town in Bumfuck, Pennsylvania?

The muscles in my back lock up and my breathing goes thin and shaky.

I’m fucking cursed. That’s the only explanation.

“Oh, fuck no. I’ve done my time. Fought my battles. I almost fucking died. I should be dead!”

I step back form table, panic crushing my chest. Something inside me pushes for calm, but the fear shoves it back down.

“I understand your anger, Boone …” Vael says carefully.

“Do you?! You’re immortal. How could you possibly fucking understand?” I scream

I can’t catch my breath. Sweat runs down my spine.

I can’t fight again. I won’t.

Vael grabs one of my fisted hands and looks up at me with so much concern, the panic almost breaks.

“Boone, please. Some very bad, very hateful humans are gaining power. They …” Vael swallows then sighs. “They want to kill the underborne. Not just some of them. All of them.”

As the sweat cools on my back, I start to shiver. Who fucking cares? They’re humans. The man currently running his thumb over the back of my fist could destroy everything on Earth if he wanted to. Instead, he deals with my shit and lets me quietly cuddle against him on bad nights.

“But they’re fucking humans,” I rasp. “You’re an immortal god. There’s the shadow asshole with the bookshop. The tea guy. Tattoo-well psycho. The glitter junk shop kid. That’s not enough to flatten some idiots playing with magic?”

This town collects monsters like stray dogs. Power sticks to it. I’ve felt it.

You think I’d choose to live in a place like this?

That holier-than-thou shadow bastard could wipe them out on his own. This doesn’t make any sense.

“You’re correct. Lorewood has many powerful beings. But … it’s not enough. These humans … they steal underborne magic to kill us. It’s ugly, but more powerful than you can imagine.”

Vael unclenches my fist, lifts my hand, then grazes his lips across my knuckles.

“Great. But why do I have to fight? I’m tired, Vael. If it came down to it, I’d fight for you, but fuck everyone else. This isn’t my goddamn fight.”

Vael’s golden eyes flash, his head snapping up, as the bastard inside me rolls along my spine.

“Ah, fuck,” I growl.

“You see it now, yes? Why I had to tell you? Because of what happened in the desert, you are at risk, too. If I could fight for you—guarantee your safety—I would. I do not want you reopening those wounds. But this is bigger than you and me. Bigger even than the wars you have fought.”

Vael stands and pulls me against him, wrapping me in his arms. I huff against his chest and breathe in his coffee and char scent. After another slow breath, my muscles finally relax and I wrap my arms around his waist.

“I know I’m new to all this monsters-magic shit, but if all the powerful beings here can’t defeat these assholes, aren’t we fighting a losing battle? Maybe we should go somewhere for a while,” I mumble against Vael’s chest. When his arms tighten around me, I sink further into his warmth and strength, while the thing nestled at the base of my spine purrs with delight.

“Boone. I would never ask you to fight a losing battle,” Vael whispers as he rubs circles on my back. “Someone is coming to Lorewood. She’s powerful … well, she will be powerful. I could sense her the moment she decided to move to Lorewood, but I don’t know she knows who she is. And she’s somehow tied to the shadow god.”

“Don’t call that pompous piece of shit a god, Vael,” I say as I press my forehead to his shoulder. “His ego is big enough. I can’t imagine that shadow dick caring about anyone but himself.”

Vael chuckles as his hands move down my back. “My apologies, little soldier. But you underestimate her. The power she’ll wield. The strength in her. She was born to unite the underborne. Born to lead us into war.”

Great. A queen. Just what this town needs.

Vael leans back, one of his hands twisting in my hair then pulling gently until my head tips back. His lips brush against mine as a growl builds in my throat. Fucking asshole never plays fair.

“Yeah, well, I don’t let people fight my battles for me,” I whisper just before nipping at his stubbled jaw. His hand tightens in my hair, my skin breaking out in goosebumps as a shiver rolls through my body.

“I know, Boone. It’s one of the things I love most about you,” Vael says, nuzzling into my neck.

“Sounds like this chick might need our help—”

“I would not call her a ‘chick’ to her face, Boone. I’ve never met one of her kind, only heard stories and rumors. She’s our queen, little soldier, so perhaps a bit more tact might be needed when speaking with her.”

“Yeah, I hear ya boss,” I whisper next to his ear, my face flushing when I feel his body tense against mine.

“Boone, you know what that nickname does to me,” Vael growls, pressing his huge body tight against mine.

Hell yeah. Maybe it will be a good night after all.

Vael rests his forehead against mine and sighs. “So, you’re not mad at me?”

I snort, then light run my fingers down the side of his neck, watching his golden tattoos glow in the wake of my touch.

“I’m fucking pissed, Vael—but not at you. If fight keeping you safe? Keeps that nosy bastard from digging into my ribs every five seconds? Fine. I’ll fight. We’ll help this queen—can’t believe I just said that—and we’ll win this fucking war. I’m not losing you after it took me so long to find you … find myself.”

“I don’t want to lose you either, ya ancient fucking sap,” I whisper in my head, as my chest warms with coils of contentment.

I should be raging. I should be running. I should get fucking drunk.

But this war doesn’t feel like the others.

I have something worth fighting for this time.

And I’ll be goddamned if some humans fucked up on magic take that away from me.