The Light Within (Shadow and Light Duology #2)

35. Epilogue

thirty-five

Epilogue

Six weeks later

Cinn glanced up at the trees. The first hints of life were breaking through winter’s grip. Buds, small and pale, clustered at the ends of slender branches, tiny promises of green yet to come. Shy things, barely open, with delicate, almost translucent leaves peeking out from their protective shells, hesitant but determined to face the world again.

The four of them were sitting in a courtyard near the library.

Darcy had magically produced a picnic blanket. Cinn brought cookies to share, his first attempt at a brand new recipe. Julien acquired four coffees from Café Curio for them. Elliot contributed absolutely nothing, but he’d turned up on time, so that was something.

It was the first day they’d braved the outside for lunch. Spring was coming early this year, if the sudden upturn in weather was anything to go by.

Cinn’s headphones rested around his neck, quietly playing music only he could hear. Just the way the others liked it.

His new Walkman, a gift from Julien, was a major upgrade compared to his previous one. He’d gained auto-reverse, bass boost and even had a built-in radio. Definitely worth the agony of watching his old one burn to death in a blaze of glory.

Cinn’s only complaint was that the Walkman mysteriously came with a John Coltrane cassette already inserted .

“Still no sign of the return of your motes, Julien?” asked Darcy.

“Non . Béatrice took them with her. A parting gift.”

Cinn was slightly sad he’d never get to experience her awesome power again, but shadowslipping was more than enough adventure, he supposed. He hadn’t slipped into the shadowrealm since the church, but Noir was fairly sure when he did, he wouldn’t be seeing the umbraphages and the red city ever again—they hadn’t been seen since the machine was destroyed.

Now, Noir was talking about Cinn working with the investigative department of the gendarmerie, travelling on-site with them to deliberately slip, to help gather evidence.

He’d finally be a real life superhero.

Julien had begun meeting with Noir weekly, under the guise of documenting the confounding motes. Noir had offered one theory, that his ability to access them had been triggered by excessive cortisol during the years prior. Now, it sounded like the sessions had turned more into therapy, based on what Julien had shared with Cinn.

Julien seemed a bit lighter every single morning he awoke in Cinn’s arms, before he pulled back the curtains and demanded Cinn wake up.

“Incoming,” Elliot announced, eyebrows raised.

“Afternoon.” Eleanor stared down at them, eyeing the blanket, likely wondering what the hell they were doing, trying to have a picnic in February. “I’m glad I’ve bumped into you. Saves me a job. The consortium meeting just finished, and I can share a few updates of interest. Jonathan goes to trial in March, as expected. But Viktor Sturmhart’s claim he knew nothing about the machine is going uncontested.” Eleanor’s lip curled into a sneer. “Looks like Jonathan is smart enough not to drag Viktor down with him. However, in other news, MEET will announce the new permanent director next week. ”

Julien, who’d come home moaning about the carnage at MEET for the last few weeks, brightened. “That is great news! I’ve got a list longer than my arm for them.”

“Have you thought any more about our conversation on Monday, Julien?”

Lucien’s death had caused Julien a problem, which he’d spent most evenings that week mulling over with Cinn.

Carrie had fled Paris, with the gendarmerie yet to locate her. This left Julien, who’d inherited a fifty percent share in HorizonTech, as the unexpected and reluctant heir to his father’s empire. The board was already circling like vultures, eager to secure their influence or seize control of the company in the power vacuum that remained.

For Julien, the idea of running HorizonTech was almost laughable. The thought of stepping into Lucien’s shoes, of managing the web of corruption and motetech secrets his father had spun, filled him with a dread that had almost reduced him to another breakdown, before Cinn had swept in to talk him down off the ledge.

Ultimately, Julien could either manage the company himself, or risk it falling into nefarious hands again.

“My decision still stands. I want to turn it into a cooperative. And allow the smaller companies to buy out of the HorizonTech umbrella, if they wish to.”

Eleanor nodded once—she’d clearly expected this. “I’ll help you sort the paperwork.”

“Any further news?” Darcy asked, face set in a tense mask. Her dad’s health remained on a downhill slope, and she spent most of her spare time on the phone to Scotland, demanding updates.

“I was just getting to that.” Eleanor smoothed down her jacket, inhaling a deep breath in through her nostrils. “You’ll be pleased to hear that until MEET determines a safe way to generate enough power to mass produce motecells on the scale Lucien did—if a safe way even exists—the consortium has agreed to prioritise distribution to the medical sector above all else.”

“What about—”

“I spoke to someone this morning, and they’re confident your parent’s pacemaker will be approved for trial any day now.”

“Thank you.” Darcy dropped her gaze, fiddling with the hem of the blanket.

Eleanor shrugged. “I’ve barely done anything.” As she turned to continue on her way, she paused to throw a line over her shoulder: “Oh, Cinn, Noir and I have agreed you’re free to go back to London now, if you wish to. Just keep your warding band on and you’re good to go.”

Cinn’s head shot straight to Julien, catching the tail end of a look of panic he quickly schooled. With a quick kick of Julien’s leg, he said, “Don’t be daft. You know I’m not going anywhere. Anyway, we’re adopting that black cat from the shelter next week. It would be a pretty dick move to leave you with sole custody of her.”

A scowl ruined Julien’s beautiful face. “I did not agree to that cat and you know it. You told me we were going to look at coffee machines!”

“You’ll come around.” Cinn fluttered his eyelashes at Julien until his scowl deepened, and Cinn burst out laughing.

Elliot jumped to his feet, taking the last cookie with him. “I’m going to be late.”

“Since when did you care about that?” asked Darcy. “Where are you going?”

“I’m meeting… someone.”

Cinn almost spat his coffee out at the look on Elliot’s face.

“Really? The same someone you met yesterday, and the day before that?” Darcy asked innocently.

“He could simply come sit with us, you know,” Julien said. “I’ll be nice, I promise. ”

Elliot raised his middle finger at Julien before setting off down a path, checking his wristwatch before increasing his pace.

“Never thought I’d see the day.” Darcy scooped her bag off the grass. “I’m just returning some books to the library. I’ll be back in a bit.”

The second they were alone, Julien pounced on Cinn. “Well? Did you get it?”

Cinn leaned back on the blanket and propped his head on one arm. “Get what? You’re going to need to be more specific.”

Julien lunged for him.

“Hey! Watch out! Get your paws off me.” Cinn raised an arm to shield Julien’s impatient fingers, which were trying to pull up his hoodie. “Hold on.” He carefully lifted his jumper up to show Julien the patch of skin currently under cling film.

On the left side of his chest, above his heart, lay Cinn’s new ink—black line art, an exact replica of the moon and stars engraved in Julien’s locket. Except, Cinn’s version had the word ‘destiny’ in fancy calligraphy written above it, the letters weaving into the stars.

“The tattoo artist copied your drawing exactly.”

“It’s marvellous,” Julien said, beaming at Cinn’s chest, before tucking some of his hair under his beanie. “It’s my new favourite tattoo of yours.”

Cinn snorted. “It would be.” He pulled out the locket from under Julien’s shirt. A perfect match . He brushed his thumb over the cool metal oval. Julien had tried several times to take a photo of Cinn to go inside it, alongside the one of his family. Alas, apparently Cinn’s smile was never quite wide enough, forcing Julien to try again, and again. Julien had amassed so many photos of him in his drawer, Cinn was starting to suspect something was afoot.

Hovering his fingers in the air, Julien traced the letters of Cinn’s new ink. “Destiny, mm? What sort of lame person would get that permanently inscribed onto their body? ”

Cinn shoved Julien as hard as he could, sending him tumbling back into the blanket. He shot daggers at Julien, face heating. After all, Cinn wasn’t the one who’d written sentimental crap at the bottom of a letter, and started this whole ‘destiny’ thing.

“Someone who wants to keep their destiny close, right where they can feel it. Not that you’d get it.”

With a laugh, Julien recovered quickly, swinging his leg over Cinn’s, clamping his wrists to the ground with his hands. Julien’s curtain of blond waves fell on either side of Cinn’s face, sealing them off from the world. Pinning him to the ground with his weight, Julien studied his face, grey eyes intensely serious, and Cinn’s breath caught in his throat.

If this is what destiny felt like, Cinn wanted nothing more than to surrender to it.

“Fear not, mon amour, I’ve got every intention of keeping my destiny very close.” Julien pressed his lips to one cheek. “Tomorrow.” Then the other. “Tomorrow.” Julien sealed their fate with a kiss to Cinn’s lips. “And tomorrow.”

The End