Conclave (Devil's Night, #3.5)

by Penelope Douglas

“We will have kids. If you want them. But I will never not have you.” He shakes me. “Do you understand?”

“No matter the money or the meetings or the mayor’s office, Michael,” I tell him, “I’ll always be perpetually twelve. Searching for Trevor’s older brother in every room I enter.”

“What does he look like?” Winter whispered up at me, her voice raspy. I smoothed my hand over both their heads. “Like next year he’ll be running around in the fountains with us,” I told her. “He’s perfect, baby. Black hair, a little pissed off…”