“Thank you, Guild Hunter,” the angel had said in a calm tone that held pure death when she delivered the package. “I wil take care of the punishment.”
Elena had pitied the vampire, but the man had dug his own grave when he’d stolen that money. “He’s not dead, you know,” she said to Il ium—who stood by her shoulder, listening to the story of the hunt. The fourth member of their party, Naasir, had stayed behind at a smal settlement about an hour’s flight from here, hoping to mine further information from the locals. “His angel preferred to punish him in other ways.”
Il ium’s face was clean and beautiful in the breeze that swept across the mountaintop where they stood, the blue-tipped black strands of his hair silken against his skin. “Sometimes, death is too merciful.”
“Yeah, but I felt sorry for him anyway. It was a white-col ar crime.”
Il ium gave her an odd look. “In the human world, such crimes are lightly punished, though they harm hundreds, leading some to choose death out of despair, while the man who beats a single person is considered the worse criminal.”
“Huh.” She stared out at the endless spread of mountain and forest in front of her. “I never thought of it that way.” Frowning, she realized the dark green of the forest wasn’t total y uninhabited—she could just glimpse the distinctively tiled roof of what might have been a temple.
Raphael? She tried to keep the worry out of her mental question. Raphael had landed with her and Il ium, told them to wait while he did a preliminary survey, then disappeared into the clouds. That had been over fifteen minutes ago, and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t sense the familiar rain of his scent. Archangel?
A glint of gold in the clear blue sky. Shading her eyes, she looked up and felt her heart sigh. Hey, what’s with the silent treatment?
Stil no response. Deciding to hold her peace, she watched with aching wonder as he made his way down toward the canopy—his movements powerful, precise, making the act of flying appear effortless. “He’s the most magnificent male I’ve ever seen.” The words just spil ed out.
“You wound me, El ie.”
Her lips curved, but she didn’t take her eyes off Raphael as he circled around the temple before turning to head back to them. “Ah, but you are surely the prettiest.” Al eyes of gold and wings of blue, Il ium should have been too beautiful, and sometimes she thought he was. What woman would dare walk beside him?
“Prettier than Ransom?” His wing brushed hers as he shifted to nudge at her shoulder with his own.
“Wel now, depends if a woman likes eyes the color of ancient Venetian coins, or hair that’s a sheet of ebony silk.” She razzed Ransom about his hair, but it real y was gorgeous.
A wash of wind against her face as Raphael backwinged to a landing in front of her. “You prefer the crashing hue of the sea, do you not, Elena?”
“Heard that, did you?” But she wasn’t smiling. “Why didn’t you reply when I was talking to you?” She tapped her head to make sure he understood.
His expression grew watchful. “I heard nothing.” Glancing at Il ium, he said, “Did you attempt contact?”
“Once, Sire. I thought you preoccupied when you didn’t answer.” Il ium’s face was suddenly that of the man Elena had seen amputate the wings of his foes with pitiless efficiency. “Something in this place attempts to break you away from us.”
Elena stared down at the mountainous terrain. “She can try, but she won’t succeed.” It was a chal enge, and when lightning shattered the sheet blue of the sky, she knew the chal enge had been heard.
Raphael touched the back of her neck. “Stay close, Elena. You are the easiest to hurt. And this entire region . . . sings to me. She is here, somewhere.”
In response, Elena pul ed down his head and took his mouth with fierce, possessive hunger. “You’re mine,” she whispered. “I won’t let anyone take you from me, not that creepy Lijuan and not her.”
Raphael’s bones stood out sharply against his skin, that skin holding a faint glow as he spoke against her mouth. “Come, warrior mine. Let us find her wherever she may Sleep.”
Diving off the mountain with him, Il ium on her other side, she kept her senses wide open as they flew to the old tiled roof she’d seen from a distance. As they came close enough to look down at it, she glimpsed the remains of what could wel have been the curving arch of a torii guarding the entrance, confirming her supposition that it had been a temple. Or perhaps shrine was the correct word. Now, it stood abandoned.
The forest had encroached over and through it to the extent that vines crawled into windows that had long lost their coverings, while fal en leaves and other debris lay at least a foot deep in the doorway. Most of the roof, too, was covered by vines and mossy growth, while below, the roots of an ancient sakura tree appeared to have slipped under and buckled what might’ve once been a smal courtyard.