“Are you listening to me? I could’ve hurt you!” Again.
He shook off his stunned bemusement to answer her assertion, hearing the unspoken word. “I could’ve deflected the blades using my power. But that would not make this in any way a fair fight.” It is nothing similar to when you shot me, Elena. I was dangerous to you that night.
In answer, she angled his face to the light, stood on tip-toe to examine the cut. “It’s much deeper than the insect bites you’ve given me when I make a mistake.”
Moving his knives to one hand, he cupped her cheek. “This is less than an insect bite to me. Do not worry that you wil have to seek another consort.”
“Don’t even joke about that.” But she relaxed, her hands fal ing to rest on her hips. “So how did I do?”
“You threw away your weapons. Galen taught you better than that.”
“You were about to get me. It was meant to distract you so I could go for my knives—or in a real fight, for my gun.” Her gaze dipped to his left wing, making it clear she was referring to the weapon designed to disable angelic wings.
Raphael didn’t like the fact that he’d forced her to defend herself with such violence that night, but he did not regret the starburst pattern of golden feathers that was the scar he wore on his wing. As far as he was concerned, it was as much a mark of Elena’s claim on him as the amber ring he wore on his finger. “It may be a good strategy in certain situations,” he said, looking at things from her point of view. “We’l work on it.”
When she moved as if to pick up the swords, he shook his head. “Not today. You’re starting to lag.”
She made a face. “You’re right. I’l cool down, shower, then I have an errand to run.” The slightest pause that he only caught because he was looking right at her. “I might ask Il ium for some low-key flying lessons later—the vertical takeoff thing is kicking my ass, but I’m not giving up.”
He said nothing until they’d stowed their weapons and were stripping for the shower. “What is this errand that puts such sorrow in your eyes, Elena?”
Her naked back tensed, then shuddered. “I haven’t told you something,” she said in a rush of words as he curved his fingers around her nape, stroking his thumb gently across her skin. “Remember the first time you sent Il ium to watch over me?”
“Yes. It was after a meeting with your father—you went to a bank.”
“There was a safety deposit box there for me. Jeffrey ... I don’t know why, but he kept . . .” It was hard to speak, to think about her father’s baffling actions. He’d thrown her out of his home, cal ed her an abomination, and couldn’t speak to her without bitter anger flowing between them like so much spil ed wine. But . . .
“My mother’s things,” she whispered, turning to face Raphael. “He kept my mother’s things. They’re in a storage unit out in Brooklyn.” She’d flown over the facility early that morning but hadn’t been able to make herself land. “I’m so scared to go there. Because when I do ... I have to admit al over again that she left me, that she didn’t love me enough to stay.”
Tears burned at the backs of her eyes, but she refused to let them fal —she’d cried so much for her mom, but then she’d gotten angry. “Sometimes, I hate her.” That was her biggest secret and biggest sin.
Raphael leaned across to touch his forehead to hers. What I feel for Caliane is beyond hate at times—for what she did, the atrocities she committed.
And yet ...
“Yes.” She buried her face in his neck. “And yet . . .”
As it turned out, she didn’t have to tear the scab off that particular wound that day. Her cel phone was beeping with a message when she came out of the shower. Grabbing it, she frowned. “It’s from the Guild.” Guilty relief curled down her spine when she cal ed back and was told to suit up for a hunt. “I’l be there as soon as I can.”
Raphael finished buttoning his shirt, the slots for his wings flowing with smooth perfection over his back. “What does the Guild need from you?”
She began to dress. “There’s a bloodlust-ridden vampire in Boston.”
“The senior angel in that territory should have sent me a report.” Walking over, he picked up his own cel phone, found a message. “Two people are already dead.”
Boots on, Elena began strapping on her weapons, including Deacon’s gift to her. She had no control-chip-embedded weapons, but since Ransom—
already close to Boston—would’ve been issued one, that wasn’t a problem. The control chips effectively knocked out a vampire’s wil for a short period, giving a hunter the chance to restrain the target—because under normal circumstances, the Guild’s people did not kil .