Heir of Night (The Thorne Hill)

“Holy shit.”

“Yeah. He didn’t feel responsible or guilty for leaving the night before the attack, but that friend must have meant more to Lucas than he’ll admit. Plus, he likes to kill people. Liked, sorry. He’s reformed,” she adds, not hiding the retch in her voice as she says it. “It worked out in his favor.” She smiles and bats her lashes. “He ended up with me.”

“You guys have such a deep history, not just with each other but with life.”

She shrugs. “Comes with the territory of being undead. I can only imagine the tales you’d have to tell if you somehow manage to live past thirty.”

“Hah, not funny. I’d be leaving behind a four-year-old.”

“To me, right? You haven’t officially named me her godmother, and I’m running out of patience.”

“I want her to have more than one godparent. She’s going to have powers and will need magical guidance.” Everything hits me at once: how unprepared we are and how likely it is that I’m not going to survive to see Elena off on her first day at Grim Gate Academy.

“You better get a move on because time is one thing you don’t—oh shit, are you okay?”

Tears roll down my cheeks, and I open my mouth to say yes, it’s just hormones, but all that comes out is a strangled sob. Because while it is partly hormones, it’s also the cold hard truth hitting me like a sucker punch to the gut.

“Hey, it’s okay.” Eliza comes over next to me. “You don’t have to pick me. I mean, you should because I will be the second-best at protecting that little girl, but you know I give you shit because I can. It’s our thing.” Still topless, she puts her arms around me and gives me a hug.

“I know.” I sniffle. “I don’t want to die.”

“Of course you don’t.” Eliza leans back and takes my hands. “I don’t want you to die, either.”

“If I die, I’ll leave Elena motherless like I was.”

“Hey,” she repeats, this time a little sternly. “If you do die, Elena is not going to end up like you. Anyone who wants to run tests on her like a bloody lab rat would have to come through me and all your witchy friends. And that’s not to mention her father.”

“That makes me feel better. Thanks for not saying I’m not going to die and everything will be okay.”

“When has that ever been my style?”

I wipe my eyes and sniffle again. “I don’t think my boobs will ever be that perky again.”

Eliza looks down at herself and wiggles her shoulders back and forth. “Perk of being on the small side. They were this perky when I was human, thank the fucking lord. I can’t imagine being stuck with big, saggy tits like my cunt sister for eternity.”

And just like that, she’s back to being a bitch. It gives me comfort.

“It’s kinda fucked up to be stuck the same way for forever. I told Lucas if he ever did turn me, I’d need a few months’ notice to get back into shape.”

“You’ve thought about being turned?” Eliza’s eyes narrow slightly.

“I have, but only in the sense that I don’t want to be. I’d lose my magic, and going from having it to not having it…I don’t think I could handle that. Plus, being a Nephilim, we don’t know if I’d turn at all. I might just die.” I shrug. “Well, I’m going to eat, probably walk Scarlet one more time so she’s a tad calmer, and then go back to Lucas. We’re meeting at the apartment later, right?” I ask. Instead of shopping with Lucas, Eliza agreed to go with me.

“I’ll be there half an hour after sundown. Don’t be late.”

“How could I be late when you’re coming to me?”

“Have you met you?” She raises her eyebrows. “Be ready. There, I worded it better.”

“I already am ready.”

She gives me a disapproving look, running her eyes over my outfit of black maternity leggings and a loose-fitting gray sweater with my leather jacket over top. My hair looks good at least, thanks to magic, that is.

“I’ll change, but I’m not wearing heels.”

“Fine. Pick your battles and all.” She yawns, which is only for show since vampires don’t actually yawn. “It’s past my bedtime. Lock up on your way out.” Her eyes meet mine, and the real Eliza breaks through her cold stare, letting me know she cares. “And keep the doors closed upstairs. My poor piggies do not like having that horse in the house.”

“Be on your best behavior,” I tell Scarlet and heft myself up, going into the kitchen. I heat up my food and send Betty a photo of Lucas and me from last night. She’s scheduling another Novel Grounds behind-the-scenes feature. The photo was taken in front of the Art Institute and is good enough I’ll have to get it printed and framed somewhere in the house. We’d posed for a few photos after I asked the guide to take them, but she kept snapping photos after we relaxed, and the second to last one she took is my favorite by far.