Page 64 of Archangel’s Lineage

Instead of laughing, Beth said, “Grow old, you mean?” A tenderness to her expression, the fingers of her free hand affectionate on Elena’s cheek. “I get that, too, Ellie. The fear you must have inside you—because I see it in my husband’s eyes each night when we say good night. He lies awake for hours. I know that because sometimes I wake and he’s just there looking at me.”

“I told you when you first met that Harry guy that he was creepy,” Elena muttered.

“Oh, hush.” Beth broke their handclasp to pour them both tea. “You like him now that you’ve seen how he is as a husband and father.”

“Upgraded from zero stars to three. Best I can do as your big sister.” It was easier to make jokes than to confront the truth Beth had laid out in front of her.

But her suddenly tough sister wasn’t letting go. Not today. “He’s so afraid, Ellie. Of the day I go. Of the day our children go.”

Elena had always blamed Harrison for his own pain; he was the one who hadn’t waited for Beth’s test results to come back before he’d chosen to be Made. Only to discover that Beth was incompatible with the toxin that Made vampires. Now, however...

“I tell myself that most mortals have a single lifetime with their loved ones,” Elena said past a too-tight throat, “that there are a ton of messed-up immortals who’ve had eons to get a relationship right and never managed it because there’s always more time. That it’s quality, not quantity, that counts... but, Beth, the idea of you not being here one day...”

Tears burned her irises. She fought back the flood with clenched teeth and another hard swallow.

“I know.” Beth’s smile was that of her somewhat scatterbrained sister again, bright and cheerful. “Imagine how I felt when you were flying into battle against angels who were throwing literal thunderbolts of power.” A nudge with her elbow. “I’m always going to be your first baby sister. No matter what happens or how many years pass, I’ll always be that part of you. No one can ever take my place.”

Elena looked at her. “You sound so smug,” she said with a shaky laugh.

“I am.” Beth made an even more smug face before taking a sip of her tea. “Also, I expect a monument to your love for me after I’m gone. A giant statue.”

“Birds poop on statues.”

Beth snorted tea out her nose, and then they were both laughing so hard their stomachs hurt. They didn’t even notice that Eve and Amy had arrived until their two half sisters walked through the back gate.

“No one answered the door,” Eve said when they looked up; she wore camo-green pants paired with a long-sleeve black tee, over which she’d strapped on the forearm sheaths Elena had gifted her on her graduation from Guild Academy.

“Evie!” Beth beamed. “Amy!” She hugged each one in turn.

Because this was Beth, Elena thought. She might be smug about always being Ellie’s “first” little sister, but she had enough love in her heart not to mind that Elena now had two other little sisters.

Elena hugged Eve, too, squeezing her much shorter sibling tight. Eve hugged her back as hard. Their relationship was different from the one Elena had with Beth, but it was as fierce. Not only was Eve so much younger, her bond with Elena was built on what it was to be driven by the need to hunt.

When it came time to greet Amy, Elena waited for her to take the lead, still not certain where they were in their relationship. Amy, dressed in a stylish navy pantsuit paired with a lacy camisole, black heels on her feet and her hair sleek and straight, came in for a hug. She didn’t hold it as long as Eve, but neither was it surface gloss. Elena found herself gently patting Amy’s back as they parted.

Amy’s smile was lopsided. “It’s funny, you know,” she murmured, while Beth was chatting to Eve about the cake she’d made—because taut, toned, and in-hunter-shape Eve still loved cake as much as she had as a child.

“I hunt so I can eat cake,” she’d said more than once, while scooping up bites of cake with a golden cake fork. Because Eve also loved her cake forks, the fancier the better. Elena had gifted her a vintage enameled set for her last birthday.

“What’s funny?” she said to Amy. “Eve’s desire to taste every cake in the world?”

Amy’s shoulders shook. “She’s adorable, isn’t she?” A smile thrown at the most petite member of the family. “No, how you did that patting thing. I do that with Eve. I’ve always thought of myself as the big sister.”

If Elena was close with Eve, she felt a dancer with two left feet when it came to Amy. “I’m sorry if I overstepped.”

“No, I didn’t mean that.” Amy’s smile faded. “I guess I was just hit by the realization that I could’ve had a big sister all this time if I hadn’t pushed you away.”

Elena shook her head. “You were caught up in the emotional undertow of things that happened long before you were born. I always understood why you did what you did. You had to support your mother.”

Expression shifting in a subtle but profound way, Amy glanced over to make sure Beth and Eve were still involved in their own discussion before saying, “I’ve never spoken about this to Eve. I feel like I have to protect her, you know?” A stiff smile. “All my life, I’ve known that my mother loves my father more than he loves her. So I thought he must love his first children more than us, too.”

Elena didn’t know what to say to the first part of that—because it was true. Jeffrey had loved Marguerite—in a way he’d only been capable of loving one woman. Part of him had died with Marguerite, obliterated beyond any hope of recovery.

But she could respond to the second part of Amy’s statement. “He’s so proud of you, Amy. He’s been telling me what a good mom you are to your kids, and how you’ve chosen to volunteer with an organization that helps victims of childhood trauma. I can feel the love and pride pumping off him.”

Elena nodded in Eve’s direction. “It might’ve taken him a while to get his head screwed on straight when it comes to Eve being a hunter, but part of his reaction at the start was due to fear.”

It had taken Elena time to give her father grace for his wounds, but she saw them now. “He lost two daughters to a psychotic vampire. He was petrified of losing a third. My father’s problem has never been about loving his children.”

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