Page 46 of Archangel’s Lineage

Predator, he reminded himself. Will eat you alive. “Still getting used to the hunter sense of smell.”

“Interesting. You simply go around offering information on yourself.”

“It’s a way to build trust. I read it in a book once.”

No smile. No twitch of the lips. No verbal response.

A wall sconce appeared in the distance. Beside it stood a vampire of androgynous appearance with brown skin, huge dark eyes almost too big for their skull, and a shock of daisy-yellow hair that fell to their shoulders. They wore a black suit, paired with a shirt in the same vibrant yellow.

“Mistress,” the vampire said, coming forward. “Has this one followed you? Shall I cut off his head?”

Vivek didn’t make a joke; he happened to know that the vampire was highly capable of actually cutting off heads. “Met a friend of yours the other day, Xai,” he said before Katrina could respond. “Davanh says you still owe him a sword for the one you broke over his ‘dumb skull.’ ”

A long, slow blink before Xai smiled the smile of a cobra. Cold, bright, meaningless. “You are a strange one. I like you.” Then they walked on ahead to open the door.

“Do not provoke Xai,” Katrina said, a slight amusement to her tone. “My friend has... a temper.”

“I know. I’ve heard about their private graveyard.” He made himself sound more knowledgeable than he actually was on the subject; the truth was that both Katrina and her closest associate were enigmas without a past.

He wasn’t even sure of Xai’s full name, that was how little he knew about the vampire with the slim, long body and hair that rotated through the color spectrum. And he’d dug hard. All he’d found out was that Xai was violent if angered, and that the vampire had a low irritation threshold.

In general, however, people had discovered that if they left Xai alone, Xai wouldn’t pick a fight. Rather, the vampire might watch you with cold eyes, as if deciding whether to eat you or fuck you.

Not that anyone had. Fucked Xai, that is. If they had, they weren’t talking. Too scared, probably.

As for Katrina, Cox was the last name she’d put on her business documents. She didn’t frequent the places Xai did—but her name, too, brought up no history. She was also never seen in the social world of the immortals; Vivek’s trusted sources of social gossip had passed on that influential vamps and angels both had been trying to entice her to a party or a ball since the day she moved into the city, but she’d turned them all down.

Ahead of them, Xai opened the door. “Welcome to my lady’s lair.” That same cobra smile.

Katrina walked in, looked over her shoulder. “Come, Vivek Kapur. Make your request.”

He stepped inside.

29

The silence of the night beyond the windows heavy today, Elena brushed her father’s hair off his forehead. He’d hate how helpless he looked in the hospital bed. She hated it.

“Jeffrey,” she said, in the hope that the address would get through to him—because he despised that his eldest living daughter called him by his name. “Time to wake up. I’ve got things to do, and look, I’m sure Amy’s husband is great, but you’re the engine of the entire operation.

“Also, while we’re on the subject, you really need to make Gwendolyn an official part of the business. From what I’ve picked up during my chats with her, your COO is coming to her for the big calls because he knows she can make them.”

Her father’s eyes opened. “She doesn’t want to be part of it. Wants to focus on being a wife and mother—and now grandmother. Told her years ago she should be my CFO.” The words were a rough croak but understandable... before his eyes closed right back up.

Elena blinked and was wondering if she’d imagined the entire exchange when one of the machines beeped.

A doctor came in soon afterward, checked on her father, and smiled. “Good news.”

Elena had to focus to hear the rest of the doctor’s words past the roar in her ears. Soon as the physician was done, she messaged Gwendolyn and her sisters. They arrived en masse over the next couple of hours, and—with the doctor’s permission—Jeffrey was surrounded by his entire living family when he opened his eyes again four hours after that sudden burst of words.

His gaze was cloudy for a bare moment before it grew sharp, alert.

His shoulders straightened, tension back in his face. Not the tension of pain or worry, but the tension that made him Jeffrey.

After a sip of water to wet his throat, he looked at them in turn. His eyes lingered on Gwendolyn, who tearfully kissed his cheek, then rested on Beth, Amy, Eve. Elena, who was to his left, came in last for his attention.

She tried to work out if he remembered anything of their first conversation in this room, but saw no indication of strong emotions on his face. Then Amy laugh-sobbed and said something, and the moment moved on.

It wasn’t until she rose from his bedside an hour later that his fingers brushed her wing. Thinking she must’ve not held her wings close enough to her body while turning, she looked back.

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