Page 75 of Shadow Hunter

Tiffany

And finally...

Dear B,

This is the last letter I will ever write to you. I’m moving forward with my life.

I wish I could say what we once had between us was good, but I question whether a relationship built entirely on letters is really a relationship at all. The bitter, cynical side of me says it was never really anything. The nostalgic part of me disagrees and insists that at one point in time we did have something good, but that the goodness was just lost.

On most days, it feels as if I’m at war with myself about what to make of what we once were and what we are now. Was it good? Bad? Worth it? Not worth it? I don’t know if I’ll ever fully come to terms with either feeling. Perhaps that’s because it’s a little of both.

All I can hope for is that in the future I’ll be able to go a day, maybe a week, maybe even a month, or, finally, years without thinking about you, because at the current moment...

You occupy my mind every second, and without you, life doesn’t feel worth living.

Yours truly,

Tiff

Damon foldedthe letters and placed them back inside the envelope. Mechanically, he tucked them inside his pocket again. A knock sounded at the front door. The team had arrived.

Tiffany called out to him from downstairs. “Damon?”

For a long moment he couldn’t breathe, couldn’t speak. His heart pounded, and adrenaline pierced through him. He could feel her pain, her grief within every word, but...

Despite everything she’d said, her feelings had never faltered. They were back to where they’d been prior to Mark’s death. He sucked in a deep breath. A massive weight lifted off his shoulders. They were back to where they’d started, as if they’d continued writing all along. Back to both of them knowing but never speaking it aloud.

She loved him...and God help him, he loved her, too.

Tiffany stoodstock still as Damon attached the tracking device to the clasp of her bra. Despite all her nerves, the feeling of his fingertips brushing her skin sent chills racing down her spine, and heat rushed between her legs. The last time she’d felt that feeling, he’d been on top of her, pushing inside her. Pure ecstasy.

She barely noticed the small device rubbing against her skin as Damon lowered the hem of her shirt. With gentle movements, he moved her long hair to hang free down her spine. She bit her lower lip. She didn’t know why, but since right before they left his apartment with the E.U. team, he’d been more tender with her than ever, like how he’d been in bed, but...different.

Not that she was complaining.

“Are you ready?” he whispered in her ear.

She nodded. “Yeah, as ready as a girl can ever be for playing with vampires.” Nerves built inside her again. A light sheen of sweat covered her palms. She always felt a little clammy before meeting vamps, even when fully armed, with her gun hidden beneath her jacket as it was now. But the feeling always subsidedwhen she encountered them and her hatred for what they’d done to her family rose to the top.

It was the anticipation that raked her nerves, not the mission itself.

“Repeat to me what you’re going to do again. I want to be completely certain we’re on the same page,” Damon said.

She let out a long sigh and faced him. “I’ve already repeated this to you twenty times, but all right. I’m driving to Club Fantasy and meeting up with Janette. I’m riding with her to the coven meeting, and when we enter, I’ll stall the discussion of Caius’s disappearance for as long as I can. When you guys burst in, I’ll hightail it out of there to the van.”

He gave her a single nod. “Good.” He met her eyes as he placed his hands on her shoulders. “We’ll be close by the whole time. Nothing will happen to you. I swear it.”

She smiled as much as she could, considering her nerves. “I trust you to keep me safe.”

He circled his arms around her waist and pulled her flush against him. Pressing his lips against hers, he kissed her deep. A small round of catcalls and whistles echoed from his fellow hunters.

He released her and shot a glare in their direction. “All you morons shut your gaping mouths and get back in position before I put you there,” he commanded.

The other operatives snapped to attention. Their mouths slammed shut.

Tiffany planted a kiss on her palm, before pressing it against his heart. She grinned. “For you to keep. I love you.”

Damon’s breath caught. She wanted to hear him utter three words to her in return, but she knew how hard that would be for him. For a man who’d been taught to bottle up his emotions, to be distant for the sake of the job, telling her how he felt wouldn’t be easy, not while he still bore the guilt of Mark’s death.

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