So I walked to the front door, drew in a breath, and opened it.
And there she stood, her cheeks pink from the December cold and the thick flakes of snow that swirled around lazily in the air. Detective Bria Coolidge. My baby sister. She wore her long coat as she always did and held a small wrapped box in her hand, about the same size as the one I’d just given to Owen.
“Gene — Gin.”
“Bria.”
We stood there staring at each other before I remembered my manners and stepped back.
“Come in. Please.”
Bria hesitated, then stepped inside. I hurried to shut the door behind her before she could change her mind and leave. The sounds of the others’ laughter drifted down the hall to us, along with the holiday music that someone had popped into the entertainment system. The soft strains of “I’ll Be Home for Christmas” filled in the silence between us. Bria stood where she was just inside the foyer, uncertainty flashing in her blue eyes.
She drew in a breath, much as I had a moment ago. “Here,” she said, holding out the present. “This is for you.”
I took the small box from her. “Wait here. I have something for you too.”
I went into the kitchen, retrieved the other special present that I’d brought with me today, and stepped back into the hallway. Bria hadn’t moved an inch from where I’d left her. She stood tall, still, and frozen, like she was afraid to move, like it would somehow hurt her.
I held out the square wrapped box, and she took it from me. We stood there, both staring at the presents in our hands.
“Well,” I said in an awkward voice. “I guess we should open these.”
Bria let out a weak laugh. “That is what people do.”
We each tore into the wrapping paper. Bria was in more of a nervous hurry than I was, because she got to her present first. She opened the top of the box and pulled out a snow globe, which I’d found during my last-minute shopping yesterday. I’d managed to get to one of the malls an hour before it closed, then had spent the rest of the evening prepping my Christmas feast.
Bria held the globe up so that snow swirled through the scene — two young girls sitting on the rim of a fountain in a beautiful garden.
“I saw that and thought of you,” I said. “Thought of us. Do you — do you remember the courtyard where we used to play?”
She bit her lip and nodded. “I do.”
We didn’t say anything, each of us lost in our own memories of the past. Some good, some bad, some best forgotten.
“It’s beautiful,” Bria said. “Thank you. But how did you know that I like snow globes?”
I hesitated. “I saw some of them in your house a few weeks ago, the night Elliot Slater attacked you.”
“The night you came in and saved me from him,” she finished.
I nodded.
Bria looked at me. “You know, I never thanked you for that. Slater would have killed me that night if it hadn’t been for you.”
I shrugged. “I was just doing what anyone would do.”
“No,” Bria said. “You were doing what a sister would do. Something I finally realized today. Now, open your present. Please.”
I hesitated before lifting the lid on the tiny box she’d given me. A small piece of jewelry lay inside — a ring. A thin silverstone band with a tiny spider rune stamped in the middle of it. I recognized it at once. It was one of the three rings that Bria always wore on her left index finger. My ring.
“I can’t take this,” I said. “This is yours. Your ring. I’ve never seen you without it.”
Bria shook her head. “It’s not really my ring. It’s yours. I had it and the others made the day I graduated from the police academy. It’s what I wore to remind myself of you, to remember my promise to come back to Ashland someday and find a way to make Mab pay for taking you and Mother and Annabella away from me. But now that you’re here with me, I don’t need the ring anymore. I want you to have it. Please, Gin?”
There was nothing I could do but put it on. To my surprise, the ring slipped easily onto my right index finger. It fit perfectly.
“Well,” Bria said, shifting on her feet, that uncertain look filling her face again. “I should go. It sounds like you have a party to get back to in there.”
She turned toward the door, but I grabbed her arm. I tried not to notice how she tensed at my touch. Time, I told myself. It would just take some time.
“Stay,” I said. “Please. It would mean a lot to me.”
Bria hesitated, but after a moment, she nodded. She took off her coat and put it on the rack with the others. Then, our shoulders not quite touching, we walked down the hall and into the living room. The others stopped their conversation as we stepped into the room. They all knew what Bria meant to me, what having her here meant to me.
“Everyone,” I said in a loud voice. “This is my baby sister, Bria.”
Nobody said anything for a moment. Then everyone moved forward at once, welcoming Bria to the party and into our little family. Forever.
I stepped back out of the way and let the others talk to Bria. She turned first one way then another, saying hello to everyone. Roslyn, Xavier, the Deveraux sisters, the Foxes, the Volgas. This went on for quite a while, but I was content to just stand aside and watch. Finally the others gave Bria some breathing room, and she wandered over into the corner, probably just to find a moment’s peace before jumping back into the fray.
And that’s when Finnegan Lane finally made his move.
“You know, we’re going to be seeing a lot of each other now,” Finn said in a smooth voice, sidling up to her.
Bria gave him a cool look. “Just because you’re Gin’s foster brother doesn’t mean I have to be nice to you.”
“No, it doesn’t, although I imagine it will make things easier for Gin if we at least try to get along.”
Bria snorted, not buying Finn’s lame line for a second.
Instead of being offended, Finn just grinned at her. “You’re not going to make this easy for me, are you?”
Bria’s blue eyes narrowed, but once again, I saw a hot spark of interest glittering in her gaze. Whether she wanted to admit it or not, she was attracted to Finn. “No. I think you’re the kind of man who’s had it far too easy over the years, especially when it comes to women. At least, that’s the rumor I’ve heard.”
Finn clutched his hand over his heart. “Oh, detective. How you wound me.”
Bria snorted again.
“Well, then, I guess it’s a good thing that I’ve got tradition on my side,” Finn said, his grin widening.
Bria frowned. “What are you talking about?”
Finn pointed up at the ball of mistletoe hanging over their heads. It took Bria a second to realize what the mistletoe was — and what Finn intended to do next.
Before she could protest or step back, Finn grabbed her, pulled her into his arms, dipped her low, and soundly kissed her. The motion surprised my sister, and she didn’t even have time to put up a token struggle. Not that she would have anyway.
Because after a moment, her hands, which had been windmilling in the air, settled on Finn’s broad shoulders. Her fingers dug into his muscles, and I couldn’t tell if she was trying to push him away or pull him closer. For his part, Finn was kissing my sister for all he was worth, holding her close in a way I’d never seen him do with another woman before.
“Well, that could be interesting,” Owen murmured in my ear. “How do you feel about that?”
Finn and Bria broke apart, still holding on to each other and both breathing heavy. Finn put Bria back up on her feet and gave her another suave smile, although his face was faintly troubled, as if he’d enjoyed that kiss a little more than he’d thought he would. As if he’d felt a little more than he’d thought he would — maybe even a little too much for comfort.