by Nalini Singh
“Oh, this is Grandma’s phone. She finally let Grandpa get her one, though she mostly leaves it lying around gathering dust.” Her younger sister’s voice wobbled. “I wanted to talk to you.”
“Are you at Majda and Jean-Baptiste’s?” Unlike Beth, Elena found it difficult to call them Grandma and Grandpa—despite all the torture and pain they’d suffered, the two were eternally young and would stay that way forever. “I’ll come over.” No point hiding now that she no longer looked like an escapee from the local boneyard. The world would make of her wingless state what it would.
“No, we’re at our place.” Beth’s response sparkled. “You’re coming? For real?”
“Yes, for real,” she said on a wave of affection for this sweet, pretty woman who’d once been Marguerite’s baby girl. “I’ll drop by to say hi to Sara on the way, so give me an hour or so.”
“I’m going to bake your favorite cake.”
“Bethie.” Elena took a deep breath. “I don’t have my wings anymore.”
“Are you sad?” Soft words. “You loved your wings.”
“I was.” But she’d done her mourning—and she’d said fuck you to the Cascade by coming out of hell with the ability to bring things to lush, green life. If Lijuan burned down the world, Elena would bring it back to life. The Cascade could go suck on that. “Now I’m just glad to be home.”
“I missed you so much.” A quickly muffled sob.
Elena swallowed. “I’ll be there soon.” No matter what, Beth would always be Elena’s baby sister, the bewildered little girl who’d clutched her hand with a soft and pudgy one as they laid their sisters then their mother to rest.
After hanging up, Elena called Ashwini. “You free to give me a ride? I don’t think I should be driving just yet—bit out of practice.”
“I’m already in a car out front of the Tower. Wait till you see the ride I requisitioned.”
Elena’s eyes narrowed; Ash definitely got a kick out of messing with her friends using her ability to glimpse snatches of the future. “Be right down.”
It didn’t take long to pull on black jeans, a metallic blue sweatshirt printed with the Tower logo, socks, and boots. She still wasn’t sure about the shorter hair, but a few brushstrokes and it was done.
Grabbing her leather jacket, she headed out.
She found Ash sitting behind the wheel of a topless baby pink Cadillac. Her fellow hunter’s sunglasses were a reflective gold, her dark hair streaked with the same color, and the hoops that dangled from her ears an Indian design that featured a waterfall of bells. A brown leather jacket worn over a scoop-necked black tee and dark blue jeans completed the outfit.
“I feel underdressed now,” Elena said, opening the passenger-side door.
“Would I do that to you, Ellie?” Ashwini passed over a box wrapped in silver paper.
“Smartass.”
“Hey, why have the third eye if I can’t use it to wink now and then?”
Grinning, Elena settled into the seat before she set to ripping open the package. Inside, she found a pair of mirrored sunglasses tinted a deep graduated purple that looked fantastic against the near-white of her hair. Also in the box were a pair of hoop earrings similar to Ash’s, except that hers were a stunning beaten steel.
She touched one earlobe. Yep, as she’d suspected, the chrysalis had “fixed” the piercing hole. Then she saw the hoops were designed to clip on. “Seriously, you’re getting worse in your old age.” Scowling mutter or not, she put on the earrings.
A sharp grin from her friend. “Now we’re ready.”
They roared off.
The car attracted plenty of attention—and so did Elena. When they stopped at a light, the neighboring motorist did a double take, looked behind her, then bit down on his lower lip before leaning out his window and shouting, “Welcome back, Guild Hunter! Anyone who survives the fucking house explosion from hell is a legend in my book!”
Elena gave him a playful salute. She knew the whispers would’ve already begun; speculation about how she’d lost her wings would soon become everyone’s favorite activity. The worst would be among the immortals. Some outside the Tower would cackle in glee at her loss, while others would look on her in suspicion for being neither vampire nor human nor angel.
Did she care? Only if it impacted Raphael.
As they zipped along, the wind playing through their hair, Ashwini updated her on Guild news and other random bits of information. “Ransom’s probably going to be waiting inside Sara’s office,” she said at one point. “Man’s done so many slow drives past the Tower since you woke that Dmitri asked him if he wanted to join Tower security.”
“He and Nyree found a house yet?”
“He won’t talk to me for a month if I blab all his news.”
“Tell me about the Slayer situation then.” Hunters policed their own; the Slayer was their big bad, the hunter tasked with executing those who’d crossed a final line.
“Sara went with the team.” Ashwini took a corner with smooth speed. “All senior active duty hunters take the assignment on rotation, with three of us on call at any one time. I’ve been through the training already, so have Ransom and Demarco, Hilda, Rose, and Kenji. Sara dusted off her active duty skills and put her name on the list.”
“This is my not-surprised face.” Sara was director of the Guild partially because she cared so much for her people—everyone knew that if it all went to shit, Sara would shield them from angry angels or pissed-off vampires until things calmed down. “Any of us going to allow that to happen?”
Ashwini snorted. “As if. She’s too important to risk on a Slayer hunt. Demarco’s in charge of the roster and he keeps ‘forgetting’ to add her name. I think she might be starting to get suspicious.”
Shoulders shaking at the thought of Sara’s toe-tapping irritation pitted against Demarco’s “oh shucks” charm, Elena leaned back farther in her seat. “I’ll do the training, too, once I’m back at full strength.” She might no longer have wings, but she hadn’t lost her hunter-born ability to scent vampires—as if that was so deep a part of her, nothing could erase it.
“Told Sara to save you a spot in the training schedule down the track.”
“Keep going and pretty soon you’ll be whispering portents like Cassandra.”
“Hah!” A huge grin. “I got some other juicy news. Demarco has a girlfriend.”
“What?! And you didn’t lead with that?” Demarco was good-looking, no doubt about it, but he seemed to put out some pheromone that made women see him only as a great guy to have as a buddy. “Is she a good one?”
“Ransom’s Nyree introduced them. You’ll never guess what she does for a living.”
“Another librarian?”
“Nah.” Ashwini took the turn into the Guild HQ parking lot. “Girl’s a hard-ass tattoo artist. Ink all over. Piercing through her upper lip and eyebrow. Boobs straight out of some fantasy comic strip, sleek muscle everywhere else. Taller than Demarco by a couple of inches and you know he’s no shortie, and here’s the kicker—she hauls him to her for a kiss every time she sees him.”
Slipping into a free spot, Ash pulled the parking brake and turned off the engine. “Woman thinks he’s the hottest thing since sliced bread. He looks dumbfounded every single time, like he can’t believe his luck.”
“I like her already.” Elena was still grinning at the idea of meeting Demarco’s girl when she walked into the HQ.
“WELCOME BACK!” boomed the gathered crowd, as golden balloons fell on her head and streamers went off everywhere.
She was engulfed in friendly arms a second later, hugged again and again by her friends and colleagues. Ransom crushed her close and, beard stubble rasping against the side of her face, whispered, “Nyree’s pregnant. Five months.”
“Eee!” Elena squeezed him back. “I’m going to get the baby a mi
niature leather jacket. Don’t you dare let anyone else do it.”
Then there she was: her best friend. Sara held her for a long time before they drew apart. Champagne corks popped and music thundered, but all she saw were her friend’s deep brown eyes. Sara had grown out her bangs and wore her hair swept back in a neat but soft bun, her fitted dress a knee-length orange sheath that flattered her sleek body, her dark skin glowing with life.
Her voice was rough when she said, “Welcome back, Ellie.”
Nothing more needed to be said, not here, not now.
“Ellie.” A tumble-haired Demarco thrust a glass of champagne in her hand, then did the same for Sara. “Come on you two, it’s party time!”
When Elena mentioned she had to call Beth first, Sara shook her head. “I already told her you’d be late. She loved the idea of the party, said it gave her more time to bake. You’d better be ready to eat.”
As it was, Elena turned up to her sister’s home with Sara, Ransom, Ashwini, and Demarco in tow. Her hunter friends hung back near the cars, while Elena went ahead.
Beth, small and curvy, cried and ran into her arms. Holding her sobbing little sister, Elena wished she could turn back the clock, erase Beth’s pain. “I’m sorry, Bethie,” she said when Beth’s tears came to a hiccupping halt.
“You came back.” Beth wiped at her face with hands that had flecks of flour on them. “And you didn’t choose to go away.”
Unlike Marguerite.
“I’ll never choose it.” Never make her sister believe she didn’t matter enough for Elena to fight to live. “Now, where’s my favorite niece?”
Wiping away the last remnants of her tears, Beth smiled and ran her hand down her full-skirted white dress patterned with red hearts. “Tell Sara and the others to come in. Maggie’s out back. She’ll be so excited.”
Once inside the house, Elena’s fellow hunters headed straight for the table piled high with baked goods. Beth beamed before taking Elena’s hand and leading her to the kitchen. “There she is.” Beth pointed through the kitchen window into the backyard, her smile softer, her heart right out in the open.
It wasn’t only Maggie playing on the back lawn. Jean-Baptiste was all hair of gilt and sun-kissed skin, while Majda’s skin was a darker gold, her hair holding a little more color than Elena’s. Elena’s grandfather was a warrior, tall and muscled, her grandmother petite, with hearth and home her core.
The love between them shone.
Today, the two were blowing bubbles with their energetic and laughing great-granddaughter. Marguerite’s baby’s baby. Elena went motionless at seeing the translucent and rainbow-hued bubbles float up into the air, against the dark green of the trees. “How was Majda after I . . . after what happened?” Their grandmother had survived a nightmare, only to return to a world in which her cherished daughter was dead.
Jean-Baptiste had warned Elena that Majda’s heart couldn’t bear another such loss.
“Not good, but I kept her busy with Maggie.” Beth, so frivolous to those who couldn’t see beneath her pretty dresses and feminine makeup, and so loving to her people, patted Elena’s arm. “She’s saved all of us. And she hasn’t forgotten her Auntie Ellie—asks all the time about you.”
Elena made herself smile through the pain in her heart. Maggie would have the childhood she and Beth hadn’t—she would get to enjoy the bubbles and the backyard, secure in the love of a mom who’d never ever choose to leave her.
Her niece shrieked when Elena appeared in the doorway.
Abandoning her bubble-making apparatus, she made a beeline for Elena, yelling, “Auntie Ellie! Auntie Ellie!” Her arms came up partway and Elena strode over the grass to pick her up and twirl her around.
Her arms were strong enough for this, for love.
“Auntie Ellie!” Maggie kissed her cheeks when she stopped the swirl. “Where did your wings go?”
“I don’t know,” Elena said through a rough throat. “I’m going to be an auntie without wings now. Do you mind?”
A hard shake of Maggie’s head. “You’re my favorite!” Her dark eyes sparkled, her silky black hair sticking to her cheeks, one small barrette already halfway falling off, the other precarious but holding. “Wanna blow bubbles?”
“Yeah.” It was time to make new memories of backyards and bubbles in the sun.
Elena carried her niece to where her grandparents stood waiting. Majda watched her come in poignant silence, her beauty worn and tired in a way that had nothing to do with food or rest. “Elena.” A soft whisper of welcome as she cupped Elena’s cheeks and kissed her on the forehead; her fingers trembled, the clear turquoise of her eyes shimmering oceans.
Jean-Baptiste stroked his hand over Elena’s hair at the same time, his features locked with a control that was brutal.
Maggie reached out to pat her great-grandmother’s cheeks dry. “Is okay Gamma. Auntie Ellie’s home now.”
22
Maggie’s words rang in Elena’s head that night as she got ready for bed. No one but her niece had asked about her wings. Not her hunter friends. Not her family. She’d noticed the soft pats on the back and the gentle smiles, so they weren’t ignoring it. Rather, they’d chosen to focus on the joy of her return rather than what she’d lost.
Muscled arms wrapping around her from behind, Raphael’s naked chest pressing to her back, her camisole and panties a thin barrier between them. He was still wearing his pants, but it did nothing to hide the power and hard strength of him. “I feel so weak against you now.” Her fingers clenched on the edge of the bathroom counter.
The dangerous blue of his gaze met hers in the mirror. “You’ve never been weak, Guild Hunter, not even at your most wounded.”
Elena wanted to kick the cabinet. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Everyone was so wonderful to me today. I should be happy.” But she wasn’t, she was angry and that anger was threatening to turn toward the man who had torn out his heart for her.
“The Cascade stole your wings.” Raphael’s voice held that edge of cold power that was slowly becoming familiar. “You are determined to push that to the past and move on, but you have a right to your anger.” White fire licked over the arch of his wings, the dancing energy seeming to taunt her.
Turning in his arms, she shoved at his chest. “I can’t even be properly angry at you!” And that made her angry. “I love you too much!”
“I am here, Elena, for your anger and your love both.” He closed his hands over her wrists. “Together. Always.”
“But we can’t now!” The hot ball of lead in her stomach exploded into a conflagration. “I can’t fly with you! I can’t dance with you in the sky, not like before!” Everything had changed and they couldn’t ignore that, not between the two of them. She couldn’t ignore it, couldn’t keep on pretending she was over it.
“When I fed you ambrosia, I didn’t know you would wake as an angel.” His hands tightened on her wrists. “I didn’t even know what it was I tasted in my mouth. I expected to have to face your wrath when you woke as a vampire. Wings do not make you my lover. That has always been your heart, your spirit, your courage—and your fury.”
“But we built a life together in which I could fly beside you. It’s gone now!” No more midnight flights where they played together in the sky. No more tangled wings while they slept.
“Then we build a new life together.”
“What if it’s not like before? What if it’s worse?”
“What if it’s better?”
“Argh! I need you to get angry and fight with me!”
A startled smile on Raphael’s face. It made him look incredibly young. She could’ve never imagined him this way when they’d first met on the Tower roof what felt like a lifetime ago. He’d been so inhuman then, a being of power and cruelty who’d made her close her hand over a blade to prove a point.
Her blood had
dropped to crash against the rooftop on which they stood, small brutal paintings.
Now he was her lover and her eternity . . . and he wouldn’t be this man if he hadn’t been so foolish as to fall in love with a mortal.
Hauling down his head, she kissed him hard. Maybe she couldn’t play with him in the skies—and yeah, that would piss her off forever—but she’d fly with him in this way. Their bodies entwined, their hearts beating as one. Because he was hers and she was the only one who could break them. So screw the anger and the self-pity.
Breaking the kiss just as she was really getting going, Raphael gathered her up in his arms and strode out the bathroom door. She slapped his gorgeous shoulders when she realized he was heading toward the balcony doors. “Don’t you dare!” It was freezing out there.
He didn’t stop.
“Raphael! I’m only wearing a camisole and panties.” A new set that fit her thin frame and that she’d had delivered herself because she and Montgomery had an unspoken agreement—he could do what he liked with her wardrobe, but her underwear drawer was off-limits. “I’ll turn into an icicle.”
“Such a lack of faith in my abilities, Elena-mine.” He shook his head, a look of mock sadness on his face; there was no cold in him now, no distance. “Has my glamour ever before let you down?”
She fought not to laugh. “Your glamour is fantastic,” she said in her most adoring tone, fluttering her lashes at the same time. “It’s the best glamour in the world. I still don’t want to be bare-ass naked above New York. Part of me keeps expecting the Cascade to come back for another go.”
Raphael kissed her, and it tasted of angel dust. The special blend created for Elena alone, erotic and luscious and toe-curling. Her nipples tightened to hard little points. “That’s not playing fair,” she breathed against his lips.
“Your taste addicts me,” was the rough-voiced response.
Another slow kiss. “I know you love me,” she said in the aftermath. “I know it was never about wings.” She struggled to explain the feelings tearing at her. “But before, I felt like a partner. Now . . . I’ve never been so weak.” Even as a mortal, she’d been stronger than most—a consequence of being hunter-born. “I’ve never been fragile, not even as a child.”
