Annie Nicholas: Prima

Shaking the cobwebs of the past from her head, she limped to the kitchen. Sizzling reached her ears. Everyone worked outside the house now, except Sam and Spice. She was Sam’s job and the babies were Spice’s. Or vice versa depending on who needed a break.

Sam flipped burgers at the stove. “Hey, Shug.”

She leaned on the counter and watched her Sigma make a late lunch. His vampire mate, Clementine, slept in the basement in their bedroom, so he spent most of his nights awake. “Where’s Spice?”

“Out in the garden with the babies, getting some rays, before the big storm rolls in.” He shot her a look. “What’s up?”

“Daedalus is leaving.”

“I heard. I think I overwhelmed his brother with the wonders of television. Where’s he been all these years?”

Sugar gave him a one-shouldered shrug. Underground would be her guess.

“Do you want cheese on your burger?”

“I’m not hungry. Just put mine in the fridge for later.” She ambled toward the sliding glass door to her garden. It was her one solace, something she could do without help.

“Shug, he’s not leaving for good.”

“I know.” Yes, he was. He just didn’t realize it yet. Daedalus was a Prime of Northeastern America. His people needed him. They would give him purpose to live when she passed away.

Daedalus should forget her.

Or at least she had thought that’s what she wanted.

Sunlight warmed her skin as she stepped outside. The squeal of baby laughter caressed her ears. Spice pushed the children on the double swing set by the flower garden. Nothing pierced her gloom better than the sight of these babes.

Her twin met her gaze across the yard, and Spice’s amused expression transformed to concern. Spice knew her pain. The twin bond transcended conventional understanding.

Sugar sat on the bench by the swing set and made a face at her nephew.

He gave her a toothless grin in return. At six months of age, he could be a sumo wrestler. Katrina’s seven-month-old daughter, on the other hand, was built like a fairy princess. She resembled her mother in every way except for the crazy curls she’d inherited from her father.

When the babes first came home, a lead weight sat in her stomach each time she held one. She had yearned for her own. “They grow so fast.” How could she ever take care of a baby when she couldn’t care for herself?

“Next thing I know he’ll be asking to borrow the car.” Spice blew a raspberry on her son’s plump cheek. Behind her chipper exterior, her sister hid something.

“It’s not like you to hold back what you’re thinking.” Sugar relaxed against the bench and enjoyed Spice's annoyed frown. Even though their exteriors were identical, their personalities were polar opposites.

Spice opened her mouth then snapped it shut as she glanced at the children. “Let me bring them to Uncle Sam. He can feed them lunch.” An evil gleam sparkled in her eyes.

Sugar laughed. “He might panic.” Sam was the pack’s Sigma, their protector, which suited his temperament, but he knew nothing about babies.

“It’ll do him some good.” Spice gave her a wink and carried both babes to their honorary uncle.

Birds played in the bath she’d installed in the corner of the small yard the year she bought the brownstone. It seemed like ages ago. Spice would eventually inherit this home when Sugar passed on, so in some small way she would remain part of the family.

Spice sauntered across the yard with two glasses of iced tea and sat next to her. “You’re being an idiot.”

“Don’t hold back, sis.” Sugar took a sip.

“Like I can.” Spice chuckled. “I’ve done my best all morning not to say anything and gave myself a migraine.” Setting her glass on the grass, she faced her. “I heard Daedalus is leaving with Pallas tonight.”

“Yes.” She sipped again so she wouldn’t meet her sister's intense stare. “Why does this make me an idiot?”

“Because you’re pretending not to care.” Spice knelt in front of her so Sugar couldn’t evade her gaze. “I don’t know who you’re trying to hurt more, him or yourself.” Gripping her hands, Spice squeezed them tight. “Talk to me.” The last came out more as an order than a plea.

Spice wouldn’t understand her reasons. Her sister grasped life by the balls and rode it hard. Sugar, on the other hand, had—just existed. Some people made things happen and others had things happen to them. Guess which group she landed in. “I don’t know what you want from me.”

“Emotion would be nice.” Spice smiled. “I can’t believe you faced off with Pallas last night.”

“I don’t like anyone threatening my family.” Sugar cleared her throat to loosen the constriction. Of course she hurt. She’d never been in love until she met Daedalus. He embodied everything she admired in people, everything she wasn’t. Strong, confident, powerful—yet under the hard exterior hid a tender heart. Everyone feared him on some level except her.

She’d feared him once, and he’d gone out of his way to gain her trust. He’d even let her go and allowed her the space she needed to realize how much she wanted him to be a part of her life…

Tears spilled along her cheeks unchecked. She wasn't sure when they’d started.

Spice hugged her tight. Keeping silent must be killing her.

“I don’t know what to do.” Sugar buried her face against her sister’s shoulder. “All my plans went to shit after the stroke. Can’t go back to my job, can’t move right. I look at the mirror and am surprised at the stranger staring back.”

Spice leaned away and washed her face with a baby wipe. “You don’t need to give the important things up. It might be harder, but you’re strong.” Sugar wasn’t sure where Spice had pulled the wipe from but was grateful.

“No, I’m not. Things were hard to do before being injured. Now they seem impossible.”

“And Daedalus?”

“If I can’t love myself, how can I expect him to?”

Spice gasped. “He never said that.”

“No.” He didn’t have to. “But I’m a burden, Spice, and don’t say I’m not. It was bad enough before when I refused to cross over into becoming vampire. My lifespan has shortened quite a bit since then. Is it fair for me to break his heart even more? This Pal Robi Inc. thing will give him purpose again. I won’t take that from him.” No matter what the others thought, she loved Daedalus with every ounce of her soul and wanted him to continue his long existence after she’d gone.

“Fine, crossover and be shifter then. You’ll get your body back with bonus skills.”

Sugar groaned and tossed her a daggered stare. “We’ve had this discussion. I’m not repeating it.” She didn’t have any desire to give up her humanity. It was an integral part of her personality. Hunting and killing went against her pacifist beliefs. There were ways to feed without killing, but it only took one slip-up.

“You can’t blame me for trying.” She leaned her head on Sugar's shoulder. “I need you. I’m selfish, I know, but my kids should grow up with you at their side.”

“You have Eric.”

“I demand both of you.”

Sugar chuckled. Spice indeed did demand both of them.

“What will happen if he dies before you?”

“Who?” Sugar twisted her head to face Spice.

“Daedalus. Reclaiming Pal Robi Inc. won’t be easy. They might have hired more slayers. Once he leaves Chicago, he won’t have pack protection anymore, just Pallas the jerk guarding his back. Who knows what he’ll be tackling.”

Sugar's heart skipped a beat. “He’s not taking any of the pack?” The idea of him dying first hadn’t crossed her mind.

“He’s refusing any help. Says it will make him appear weak.”