“Of course they were.”
“It doesn"t matter if the angel driving this didn"t participate in the physical act—their corruption is the root. What was done to Noel merited death. What was done to Sam . . . death would be a mercy.”
Light edged her fingertips where they touched Raphael"s skin. She feared his power, would"ve been a fool not to. But she couldn"t let him cross that line, couldn"t let the hunt drag him into the abyss. “Raphael.”
“There is,” Raphael murmured, his eyelids lowering to hood the ice of his gaze, “a dark music in the screams of your enemies.”
“Don"t,” she whispered, trying to reach him. Cruelty, as he"d once told her, seemed to be a symptom of age and power. But she refused to surrender to that, to let him be consumed by the violence of his own strength. “Don"t.”
But he wasn"t listening. “Would you not like to stroke a stiletto across his throat, Elena?” His own hand closed around her neck, sensual, gentle, lethal. “Would you not like to watch him beg for his life?”
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“Part of me,” Elena whispered, admitting to the angry need within, “wants to do exactly that, wants to torture the bastard until he whimpers, until he crawls.”
“But you will pity him when the time comes.”
“My heart is human.” And that heart was his. Ignoring the hand he still had around her throat, she pulled his head down to hers. As their lips met, she felt the slow burn of his power grow until it pulsed against every inch of her flesh. It was a reminder that no matter if she now had wings, she was very much mortal in comparison to this archangel.
His energy surrounded her, soaked into her very pores, his lips taking hers with a terrible, beautiful cruelty. There was no attempt to harm, no pain. No, Raphael kissed her like the immortal he was—with the heartless skill of a man who"d kissed so many women across the ages, their faces had to be a blur by now. It was a direct, unmistakable display of the ruthless heart that beat within his chest.
You can’t scare me, she thought to him.
A lie, Guild Hunter. I can feel your heart thudding like a trapped rabbit’s.
I’d be stupid not to be afraid. But I’m not going to back away from us just because you’re feeling a little extra snarly.
A split second when his lips stopped, then she felt them curve, his hand rising from her throat to cup her cheek. The white-hot burn of his power faded, was replaced by the erotic touch of his skin. Only you would ever dare say that to me.
Needing to breathe, she broke the kiss, her entire body a humming flame. Man, but the archangel knew how to kiss. “We have to go.”
A small nod, his hair sliding across his forehead before the wind pushed it back. “Where do you want to start?”
“How about the school—he might"ve been watching Sam or the other kids to decide which one to take.”
Raphael"s face went quiet, but though his eyes turned a deep indigo lit from within, he didn"t flame with power again. “I"ll fly you to the school grounds.”
However, though Elena searched until the early hours of morning, when the snow began to come down in white sheets, she didn"t find even the faintest trace of the vampire who"d laid brutal hands on a child in a place meant to be the safest of havens. More angry than anything else, she walked into their bedroom and began to strip off snow-wet clothes, her bruises stiff with 106
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“Let me.” Raphael placed his hands on her shoulders. “Your wings are dragging on the floor.”
“I"m tired,” she admitted, allowing him to peel off her sleeves, undo the straps of her top, and pull it from her body. “I"m used to being stronger than the people around me. Here, I"m pathetically weak.”
A kiss on the bare skin of her shoulder, warm hands on her stomach. “Strength comes in many forms, hunter. Yours is deeper than you know.”
Leaning back into him, she let her body relax, trusting him to keep her upright. “This is nice.
Having someone to hold me when I"m tired.” It was an intimacy, a gift she"d never expected.
A long pause. Another kiss on her shoulder, those hands quietly possessive. “Yes.”
It had been a leap in the dark to admit that much, that she was coming to rely on him—she, a woman who hadn"t relied on a man since the day her father threw her out on the street—but she"d never expected that he"d honor her trust with his own. Closing her hands over his, she dropped her head to one side, exposing her neck.
He took the hint, kissing a line up the curve of it. “Shower?”
“Bath.” She didn"t think she could stand unaided.
“You"ll fall asleep.” His lips pressed to the quickening beat of her pulse, the possessive strength of his body reaching through her exhaustion to awaken the most primal of needs. But I’ll hold you up.
It was another kiss, that offer. “Promise?”
“Promise.”