Page 227 of The Darkest Chase

As she comes tumbling down the stairs in her cute little pink flannel, I straighten and lightly slap Rolf’s rump.

“Find Gerald, old man. Keep him company.”

Talia gives me a puzzled look, adjusting the straps of her camping rucksack. “We’re not taking Rolf?”

“Not tonight. Let the two old guys keep each other company.” I hold my hand out to her.

She smiles.

She knows this isn’t normal.

I can tell she wants to ask what’s up my sleeve, when normally Rolf comes along almost everywhere. Still, even though she’s bristling with curiosity, she seems to know better.

Talia takes my hand and follows me to the Jeep without question.

It’s insane how well she knows me by now.

Press me about it, and I’ll just tease her and draw out the suspense.

The inside of the Jeep feels warmer with her in it.

Hell, I feel warmer with her in the passenger seat.

We head for the roadside parking area where we usually leave the vehicle and move out on foot.

Couldn’t have picked a better night. The sky is overflowing with stars.

The full moon, a silvery disc that shines down like a blessing, lights our way so clearly that we don’t even need flashlights.

Hand in hand, we take the familiar paths branching into the woods and up the hills. The night glows, all pale moonlight shining off the foliage and branches, leaving Talia looking around with wide, glimmering eyes that take everything in with wonder.

And her wonder turns into genuine surprise when, after less than an hour of hiking, I take a small detour and lead her down a narrow trail.

Soon, we break into a clearing overlooking the town.

It’s the same clearing where we stopped to take in Redhaven before, back when we were staking out the Jacobins.

That trip was where I started falling in love with her.

Later, over the photograph from this vantage, too.

Finding out she’d saved me as a damned vampire in her phone.

Laughing over so many messy ways we collided.

Sharing our stories, our fears, our dreams.

Discovering how thoughtful, how brave, how determined she is.

Maybe it’s the small things.

Or maybe I’ve just decided I like the small things an awful lot.

Which is why, there’s a thick plaid blanket laid across the grass and a wooden square serving as a table, already prepped with candles just waiting to be lit.

The insulated nylon bag next to it keeps the food inside warm—and thankfully safe from nosy animals until we showed up.

While Talia stares with bewildered delight, I pull away, dropping my backpack and then pulling out my lighter for the candles.

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