“So when are you opening a shop here?” a guy asked. He showed her his heavily tattooed arm. “’Cause I’ll be your first customer.”

  Other people clamored, saying they’d come to her shop too.

  Her shop. In Chicago?

  She got a few questions about her power, and if she was now part of the Paranormal Alliance, but most of the questions centered on her personally: her choice of tattoos, what they meant, where she was from, what it was like there, if her tongue ring hurt to have put in. No one asked her about the past six months or the Institute.

  Sam eventually backed the crowd off and pulled her away. “Let’s get out of the sun. We have a cabana. You can get a drink that’s not pink.”

  “At least when I throw up later, it’ll be festive.” She looked over her shoulder as they walked away. People waved.

  She waved back.

  Chapter 16

  The cabanas were little more than tent pagodas filled with colorful couches and stools, but June was grateful to get some separation from the masses. Sam ordered bottles of liquor, beer, and food. His officers would be joining them later, as well as some of Aaron’s governing board.

  “See, I told you,” Sam said to Aaron. “A gathering to promote solidarity was a good idea.” He sat next to June on a couch, his arm around her.

  “The day is only beginning.” Aaron sat in a chair across from them. “We’ll call it a success when everything goes off without a hitch.”

  “As long as no one gets drunk and starts fighting,” Cindy said. She sipped on a fresh drink. She was wearing June’s hat beneath her own hat, like some crazy hobo lady.

  “Everyone will get along,” Sam said. “It’s a hallmark day for paranormal people.”

  “Unless you’re a vampire.” Aaron looked out over the water. “Five hundred. That has to be nearly all the vampires in Chicago.”

  Sam played with June’s bikini top strap over her shoulder. “I don’t want to talk about it today.”

  “There’s going to come a time when we need to talk about it. I know you don’t keep company with vampires, and they aren’t in your group, but they are paranormal, and this is a big issue.”

  “The vampires are going to do as they will.” Sam waved his other hand. “No laws of ours are going to stop them. Nothing we talk about is going to keep them from whatever they want to do; it never has.”

  “No, and that’s the problem. They didn’t destroy nearly their entire population for no reason. This is the beginning of something.”

  June spoke up. “They wanted to cleanse their ranks. That’s what Occam said. They only want old, powerful vampires left in the city.”

  “Yes.” Aaron looked at her. “And what, I wonder, are those old, powerful vampires going to do now?”

  June didn’t want to contemplate it. She wanted Jason and Diego back safe before anything else happened.

  “How many can there be?” Sam said. “It sounds like a very elite club.”

  “Enough to kill five hundred young ones.” Aaron adjusted his sunglasses. “I would not at all underestimate them. They’ve just proven how many people they can kill in two short days. Pray they don’t move on to other paranormal beings. Or normal ones.”

  Silence fell, the sounds of the party around them continuing, adding a surreal weight to Aaron’s words.

  A man stepped into the cabana then—a paunchy, spindly-legged older man, in khaki shorts and a T-shirt. He wore a floppy straw hat and dark sunglasses. He was holding one of the big pink drinks.

  “I wanted to come say hello, Sam,” the man said. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

  Sam slid his sunglasses off and squinted. Aaron looked up at the man, pulled his phone out of his pocket, and started playing with it.

  “Who are you?” Sam asked.

  “A friend.”

  “A friend indeed,” Aaron said.

  The man smiled. “An admirer. I wanted to say how glad I am the Institute is finally getting what they deserve and that your innocence has been proven. I’m glad I could help in all aspects of that. I only hope everyone who deserves punishment has it coming to them.”

  Sam slid his arm from around her shoulders and sat forward.

  “I also wanted to assure you,” the man said, “that Eric Greerson is very much dead.”

  Sam stared at him. “How…are you so sure of that?”

  The man took a sip of his drink. “Because, before his funeral, my friends and I paid him a visit. We opened his casket and cut off his head.”

  June blinked.

  “A bit dramatic, yes. But I don’t know any vampires who can survive with their head removed.”

  Sam sank back against the couch. June looked around at everyone in the cabana. Their reactions ranged from mildly surprised to bored, as if they heard this kind of shit all the time.

  “Good luck with Robbie Beecher.” The man tipped the brim of his hat. “I will do what I can, but I don’t have any leverage against him. And you’re welcome. I’m glad leaking the footage to the Internet was far more advantageous than anything else we’ve done.”

  He shuffled off and disappeared into the crowd.

  Sam stared at Aaron. “That…that was…”

  Aaron held up a finger. “No, that man is dead.”

  June kept her mouth shut. She’d just met the first head of the Institute, she was sure, the man who fished out evidence to clear their names. The man who took no chances with vampires. Michael Paulson.

  “I should have thanked him,” Sam said.

  “He knows you’re thankful.” Aaron looked up from his phone. “Go on. Have a good time now, knowing your back is watched. Eat, drink, and be merry.”

  June muttered, “For tomorrow we may die.”

  June tried to have a good time. She ate a little, drank a little more, but then her stomach started acting up so she switched to water.

  People drifted in and out of the cabana, visiting with Sam and Aaron. She got some attention as well, since the news had spread she was Sam Haain’s girlfriend.

  Cindy grew tipsier as the day dragged on, which meant she became even louder and more annoying. She insisted on taking selfies with June, and with anyone who would stand still. June avoided getting into conversations with her lest she drunkenly confess more things June didn’t want to know.

  News crews were all over the parking lot, but they weren’t allowed on the beach. Sam mused he might go out and say hello, but he didn’t seem in any hurry to do so.

  “What, you don’t want to address the voters?” Aaron asked him. “I would have thought you came prepared with a speech.”

  “Today is about having fun,” Sam said. “I can campaign tomorrow.”

  Somehow, Sam dragged her out of the beach house and down to the water in late afternoon as the sun sank into the horizon. Plenty of people were already in the water.

  “Come on.” Sam tugged her hand. “You can’t come to the beach and not go in the water.”

  “All right, but no farther than my knees. Who knows what’s floating around in this lake? Didn’t your river used to be filled with shit, and it emptied out here?”

  Sam was already in to his ankles. “That was a thousand years ago.”

  “Oh, wow, I didn’t realize Chicago was a millennium old.”

  Sam yanked and pulled her in. She hissed as she stumbled into the ice-cold water.

  “Feels good, doesn’t it?”

  “Ew, it’s all gritty.” She wiggled her toes in the lake bed. “How do I know Jimmy Hoffa isn’t floating around in here?”

  “He is. When he comes by, wave.”

  She waded out to her knees but didn’t budge an inch more, not able to see the bottom through the murky water at that point. She waded around while Sam talked to people.

  Then Sam took off his shirt.

  He sloshed toward her, muscles rippling in the low golden sun, like some kind of aquatic sex god. He slung his shirt over his shoulder, gripped the front of her cover-up, and yanked it open. She yelped.

  “Come on. Get naked. Everyone’s already seen your tattoos; it’s no big deal.”

  She swatted at his hands. “I have this scar. What if someone asks me about it? The FBI says we can’t talk about it.”

  “Tell them you got it in battle.”

  Sam worked her wrap off. The air gusted delightfully across her over-warm skin. She was still horribly self-conscious.

  “You look awesome in that bikini.” He draped the wrap around his neck.

  She struggled to bolster some confidence. “I don’t look nearly as good as Cindy in her suit.”

  “I don’t look nearly as good as Pierce Brosnan in his.”

  “Young Pierce Brosnan or Pierce Brosnan now?”

  Sam trudged toward the shore, working his hair tie out. He dropped his shirt and her wrap on the towels he’d brought and rejoined her in the water. He grabbed her hand and pulled her out farther.

  “Hey, I’m not swimming!” She was quickly in up to her waist. Being short sucked.

  “I’ll swim. You hang on.” He turned around and picked her up.

  “Sam!”

  After some kicking and screaming and sputtering at the cold water, she calmed down and attempted to enjoy it. Sam swam around, pulling her with him. She eventually clung to his back and rode him around like a dolphin. She even let her hair get wet.

  “I can swim, you know,” she said in his ear as he cut through the water.

  “Yeah, but I like this better.” His hair streamed heavy and wet down his back, and she stroked her fingers through it. “Man, I have to get back in shape. This is harder than it used to be.”

  “I like the shape you’re in.” She snaked a hand underneath him and pinched his nipple.

  People watched them, saying hello as they passed. Thankfully, Sam didn’t stop to chat. They passed Cindy who was whooping it up, having a splash fight with several guys.

  “Hi guys!” She waved enthusiastically. “Can I hitch a ride?”

  “No.” June clung tighter to Sam’s shoulders. “Faster, noble steed. Run from the dragon.”

  Sam took her out deep, almost to the buoys marking off the swimming area. She tried not to think about how far the lake bed was beneath them, or what might be down there. At least out there they were alone, and it was relatively quiet.

  Sam stopped and they floated facing each other, June’s arms draped over his shoulders, kicking her legs.

  “I know this isn’t your idea of a good time,” he said. The features of his face were sharp and exquisite with his wet hair slicked back. His eyes were deep and dark as the water around them. “I needed this, though. Not just for my people, but for me.”

  “I know.” She drifted against him, their skin brushing silkily together beneath the surface. “I needed it too. We needed something that wasn’t suffering and worrying.”

  “I’m sure we’ll have plenty more of that soon.”

  She wrapped her legs around his waist. “I keep trying not to think about where Jason and Diego are, how unfair it is that I’m enjoying the sand and sun and they’re prisoners. And Micha, tucked away in that hospital.”

  “We’ll get them all out soon. Even Micha.” He slithered his arms around her. “I know it’s hard to not feel guilty, but you deserve some peace of mind too. You deserve to have one day without suffering.”

  “Do I?”

  He stroked his fingers up her back and plucked at the tie on her top. “Yes. You’ve committed no sin you should be punished for.”

  She brought her face close to his, her head slightly above him. She wasn’t used to being the tall one. “We’re all innocent, or as innocent as we can be, I suppose.”

  “It’s not easy for me, either, you know. Robbie is always on my mind. That desperation to find him before he does something else, before he hurts any more people. And Muse…” He paused. “I miss her every minute of every day. She’d think this was the silliest damn thing I’ve ever put on. She’d be stunned her father and I would even collaborate like this.”

  June stroked his forehead, wiping away water droplets. “I could imagine her huddled under an umbrella with me, trying not to bake to a crisp.”

  He chuckled, but his eyes were sad. “I like to think she’s here today, in spirit. This is also a celebration of her life, of the things she helped me accomplish. I wouldn’t be here if she hadn’t had my back all those years. I think celebrating with her father is fitting.”

  June kissed him and then pressed her forehead to his. They drifted silently in the water, bobbing together.

  “No more good people will die,” Sam whispered. “Not if I can stop it. And I will. With my last breath, if need be. Not my people. Not your brother. Not Micha.”

  She tightened her arms and legs around him. She wished, more than anything, that was a promise he was actually capable of keeping.

  He continued playing with the tie on her top, and then moved his arm around to slip a hand up under one of the cups. Things were stirring below the water, as well.

  She glanced toward the beach. They were still alone, but people were slowly encroaching. Sam was a magnet.

  “We’d better behave.” She gasped softly as he plucked her nipple. “We can get freaky in the tent later. Hopefully, none of your groupies will be lingering around then.”

  “That’s what you think. Our sex video will probably be on the Internet by tomorrow morning.”

  “Good thing I got waxed, then.”

  “Yeah, I noticed.” He reached lower and smoothed his fingers over the crotch of her swimsuit.

  She convinced him not to fuck her in the water—not only because they had onlookers, but because water was a terrible lubricant. They swam around a bit more, letting Sam “relax” before they got out.

  When evening fell, people lit lanterns, since they weren’t allowed fires. Music was played and people danced on the sand. Quite a few were clearly drunk, even though the police were still patrolling and inspecting coolers to make sure no one had booze—like sneaking liquor onto a beach wasn’t a time-old tradition.

  She and Sam strolled around, hand-in-hand. Sam had his T-shirt back on. He’d left his hair loose, flowing in the wind.

  “So,” Sam said. “Anthony has spent all day at home, what a surprise.”

  She looked up at him.

  “I started the program this morning. I’ve got it sending updates to my phone.”

  She breathed a sigh of relief. “I was worried I didn’t get it on him right, that it might fall off.”

  “Unless it fell off at his house, no. If he hadn’t said he was such a homebody, I might be worried. But it seems to be transmitting accurately.”

  “He’s probably blogging.”

  Sam squinted toward the parking lot, where news vans were still clustered. “Maybe he wishes he were here with us.”

  “I somehow doubt that.”

  June slipped her arm through Sam’s and stayed by his side, trying to get used to playing First Lady. Two young girls, pretty and pert and blond, ran over to talk to Sam. They seemed fascinated by her as well.

  “The tattooed lady,” one said. “You totally fit in with us.”

  Sam grinned slyly at June. “Welcome to the freak show.”

  June nudged him in the side. “Don’t call us freaks. We’re normally-challenged eccentric individuals.”

  The girls laughed as they walked on. “Sam Haain for president!” one called.

  June rolled her eyes. “Oh my God, like, can I design your bumper stickers for the campaign?”

  “You should get my name tattooed on your ass. That would be even better. Or a tramp stamp.” He smoothed a hand over her lower back.

  “If you don’t be careful, I’m going to tattoo dicks on your face while you sleep.”

  * * * *

  Eventually June was partied out and wanted to go to the tent. Sam joined her. She tried to brush as much sand off her body as she could before she crawled in. All their things were there. They rolled out their sleeping bags and made a cozy nest with the additional pillows and blankets they’d brought.

  Sam left a lantern burning outside the tent and zipped the flap shut. June peeled off her bikini top, having brought a T-shirt and shorts to sleep in.

  “Just in case.” Sam indicated the light. “If anyone has to come fetch me, including the police. I have my fingers crossed no one gets us kicked off the beach before morning.”

  “You’re quite the optimist.” June unfurled her T-shirt.

  “What are you doing with that?” He grabbed the shirt and tossed it into the corner of the tent.

  She was naked from the waist up. The lantern provided a muted glow through the rippling canvas.

  “I can’t sleep in my suit,” she said. “It’s all gross and briny.”

  He cupped one of her breasts. “I agree, but you can’t sleep in any clothes. It’s the law of the beach.”

  “Is it?” She tugged his shirt up as well. “Then you’d better stop breaking the law, mister.”

  They both got naked. The air inside the tent was warm but not uncomfortable. She wrapped herself around him as they kissed, and it was oddly naughty being naked and frisky out there, even though they technically had privacy.

  “You’re so smooth,” he murmured. “Everywhere.”

  “I almost forgot what it was like to be groomed. Or how much fun it was getting all my body hair ripped out.”

  He nuzzled her jaw. “I liked you even when I had to beat my way through the forest.”

  She pinched his ass. “Jerk.”

  They rolled around, kissing, caressing, teasing. Eventually, she ended up on top of him.

  “Can I ask you something?” She gazed down at him, her hands on his chest. “Something personal?”

  He sprawled beneath her, hair spread out on the sleeping bag. He dragged his hands up and down her body, over her breasts, along her sides.