“Huffkins. You can’t come here and not go to Huffkins. It’s a rule.”
Ten minutes later Amber had her very first tea experience. The tea was an acquired taste she was pretty sure she would never love, but the scones were crazy awesome.
“What is this stuff?” she asked on a groan, smearing double the creamy substance on her remaining half.
Megan’s eyes twinkled. “Clotted cream, and it’s the bomb.”
It was somewhere between the consistency of whipped cream and butter, but sweeter. “Oh my God, seriously, where has this been all my life?” she muttered around a mouthful of crumbly scone and cool, thick cream, the strawberry jam on top giving it just the right amount of brightness and sweetness.
“I know, right? It’s totally addictive. Marcus turned me onto it when I first got here.”
Yum. “We need to take some back for the others.”
“Yeah, we do,” she agreed, shoving a bite into her mouth.
They bought enough scones, cream and jam for everyone, then stopped for wine and chocolates too before heading back to the vehicle. Amber couldn’t stop smiling as they drove back to the manor. Everything about this little excursion was the opposite of what her life had been. “I always heard retail therapy was good for you. I just never believed it before.”
Megan reached over to pat her knee. “It’s a brand new world for us now.”
Was it? Or was this just a tiny interlude to show her everything she could never have?
The almost giddy sensation faded, replaced by her usual, cautious seriousness. “I don’t think you should pose as my double for this sting when it happens.”
Megan shot her an annoyed look. “Too bad, because I’m doing it.”
“No, Megan…” She sighed, tried to find the right words. Their new relationship was still fragile. They were still getting to know one another again and she didn’t want to risk alienating her only family member. “Look at the life you have here. Look what you have with Ty. You don’t need to operate anymore. You don’t need to take risks like that anymore, you can just—”
“Stay here and sit on my ass while you risk your life for the rest of us? Yeah, no. That’s not how I’m wired.” Her tone was curt, her expression tight.
Shit, Amber had offended her. “I know you’re not. Just like I know how you think, and all the things you’re trained to do. I’m just saying that you have a choice now. And that it wouldn’t be selfish for you to choose happiness for once, instead of more danger.”
“Yes, it would.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re mysister,” she snapped, and turned her attention back to the road.
Amber didn’t respond. Couldn’t even if she’d wanted to, because it felt like someone had just sucker-punched her in the sternum. Her heart felt bruised and her throat was suddenly tight.
She had always been leery of others. She didn’t make friends easily—for obvious reasons—and the last time she’d thought she had real ones, they’d duped her and abandoned her to die. To have her own kind turn on her like that had planted a bitter seed inside of her.
This time was different.
Even though she was operating in a kind of probationary period with the others. Even though Rycroft and his team back Stateside remained suspicious of her and her trustworthiness—and they had every right to be after the things she’d done. She was determined to prove herself to all of them.
This time she had her sister beside her, and everyone back at the manor house was united in a joint effort to protect all the remaining Valkyries out there, which Lady Ada was currently working her magic on, along with a few other key tasks. A mission they could resume full force once Stanislav was neutralized.
They drove back in silence, a subtle tension between them. Megan pulled through the mechanized wrought-iron gate and parked near the main house at the top of the circular part of the driveway.
Amber followed her inside, still shaken by the unwavering devotion and loyalty her sister had shown her. After everything she’d done, Amber wasn’t sure she deserved it.
“We’re back,” Megan called out once they hit the foyer, “and we come bearing gifts.”
Amber followed her to find Kiyomi and the others, aware that the greatest gift she’d ever been given was right in front of her.
Chapter Fourteen
On a scale of one to ten, Kiyomi’s pain was at a solid eight-point-seven. Her cracked ribs never gave her a moment’s reprieve, and the rest of her was battered and bruised. Exhaustion and fear dogged her every single moment. Even still, she liked her surroundings and present company too much to make the tortuous trek back upstairs to the sumptuous bedroom the mysterious lord of the manor had put her in.