The tart bite of orange, the sweetness of chocolate—she could all but taste it.
It was so pungent, so rich, she almost missed the scent hidden beneath.
Snow falling on apples.
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“Sam.” It was less than a whisper as she began running, far more interested in that gentle scent than the one that had drawn her here. The hallway ended at a door, a heavily carved slab that had been varnished until it glowed darkest amber.
Her palms slammed up against it as she came to a halt. “He"s behind here.”
“No, he"s not.” Michaela"s voice lashed the air as she appeared from their left, her face and body pristine once more. A silent testament to the power of an archangel. “I shall enjoy delivering your punishment for violating my home without cause.”
“There"ll be no punishment,” Raphael said. “She falls under my protection.”
Michaela smiled, small, satisfied, vicious. “But she doesn"t accept you as her master. You cannot stand as her shield.”
And Elena knew Michaela was really, really looking forward to making her scream. It didn"t matter. “Open this door.”
Michaela waved a languid hand at Riker. “Do as the hunter says.”
Elena shifted away to avoid physical contact with the vampire as he moved to do his mistress"s bidding. The door swung inward to reveal a room swathed in shadow, but for the faint snow-reflected silver of the moon. Elena didn"t need light to find her target. Walking inside, she headed unerringly to what proved to be a large chest when Riker threw on the wall-mounted lights, their glow a muted honey.
“Can a baby immortal survive without air?” she whispered desperately as she struggled to lift the heavy lid.
“For a time,” was the chilling answer as Raphael took over the task, while Illium stood watch.
For the first time in her life, Elena hoped she was wrong, that Sam wasn"t in that trunk. But the Cadre had hired her because she was the best—she didn"t make mistakes. “Oh God!” Instinct had her reaching inside, but she hesitated an inch away from that tiny curled-up body. “I"ll hurt him.” He was so bloody, so very broken.
“We must take him to the healers.”
Nodding, she brought out that crumpled body in her arms. Sam"s wings had been crushed, the fine bones likely shattered. The majority of the blood had come from what looked like a head wound, as well as a cut on his chest. A chest that wasn"t moving. God, please. “Is he alive?”
Raphael, his face a stone mask, touched the boy"s cheek, and it was only then that Elena saw the 98
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sekhem branded into that delicate skin.
“Yes, he lives.”
Rage a hurricane inside of her, she held Sam as close as she dared and went to walk past Michaela, but the archangel was staring at Sam, such a stricken expression on her face that Elena felt her throat lock, her feet root to the floor.
“He"s alive?” the archangel asked, as if she hadn"t heard a single word that had passed "til then.
“Yes,” Raphael answered. “He lives.”
“I can"t heal him,” Michaela said, looking at her hands as if they belonged to a stranger.
“Raphael, I can"t heal him.”
Raphael walked forward to place one hand on the female archangel"s shoulder. “He"ll be fine, Michaela. Now we must go.”
Elena, already at the door with Illium, waited only until Raphael was in the hallway before handing over her precious burden. “You"re faster. Go.”
Raphael left without further words. Elena was about to follow when she heard Michaela say, “I didn"t do this.” It was a broken sound.
Shaken, she looked back to glimpse Riker kneeling beside his mistress, her glorious wings dragging on the floor as she collapsed to the ground. “I didn"t do this,” she repeated.
Riker stroked Michaela"s hair back from her face, the devotion in his eyes a brilliant, blinding thing. “You did not do this,” he said, as if in reassurance. “You could not.”
“Elena”—Illium"s lips brushing her ear—“we must go.”
Snapping her head back around, she followed his lead, not speaking until they were out in the ice-cold air. “I had her all figured out,” Elena said in a low whisper, conscious of the large number of vampires who surrounded the house. “She was the Bitch Queen and that was that.”
“A big part of her is exactly that.”
“But what we saw today . . . where did that come from?”
She felt Illium hesitate. His words when they came, were quiet. “Angels don"t have many young. It is our worst pain to lose a child.”
Michaela had lost a child.
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The realization shook her, skewing her view of Michaela in a wholly unexpected direction.
“Then this bastard wasn"t out to hurt Sam, not really.” That somehow made it worse. “He was out to hurt Michaela.”