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Archangel's War(30)
Author: Nalini Singh

   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 miniature 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.

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