Archangel's Shadows (Guild Hunter series Book 7)

A full squadron flew at their back.

Dmitri must’ve organized a welcome escort, but the escort fell back halfway across the Hudson, and it was Raphael and Caliane alone who landed in front of her. Eyes of excruciating blue and hair of midnight, there was no doubting they were mother and son.

“Lady Caliane,” Elena said, stepping forward with both hands extended as Jessamy had decided would be acceptable. “You are welcome in our home.”

Part of her was expecting the Ancient, dressed in weathered red-brown traveling leathers but with a bearing as regal as always, to reject the overture. She was ready to pretend it didn’t matter, for the sake of keeping the peace, but Caliane’s fingers closed over her own, the power in her bones a hum against Elena’s skin.

“I thank you for your generosity,” Caliane responded before breaking the handclasp. “I should’ve sent word of my journey.”

“This is your son’s home,” Elena said, going with her gut. “You are always welcome.”

Raphael’s eyes met hers. You are kind to my mother, hbeebti. I think she is embarrassed at her impetuous behavior now that she is here.

Thanks for the heads-up. Smiling at Caliane, Elena waved toward the house. “Everyone is excited to meet you.”

Caliane hesitated for a second, then fell in step with her. When Elena introduced Montgomery, Raphael’s mother was pure grace, as she was with the other staff members who’d lined up to meet her, every single one spic and span.

Showing Caliane to her rooms afterward—her fingers discreetly crossed that Montgomery had managed to arrange a gown—Elena said, “Please take your time. We’ll wait for you in the library. The dining room is a little too grand for family.”

“Consort.” Caliane’s eyes were intense, her expression unreadable.

Elena’s hand tightened on the doorknob, the hairs rising on the back of her neck. Her primal hindbrain recognized Caliane as a threat, screamed at her to run, but of course that wasn’t an option. “Lady?”

“This house . . . it has a heart. I am glad my son lives in a house with a heart.”

Unsure whether that was a compliment or a simple statement, Elena inclined her head and left Caliane when the Ancient made to walk to the bath. She didn’t blow out a relieved breath until she was in the master bedroom. Walking straight into Raphael’s arms, she let him wrap his wings around her and the two of them stood there, ready to face this extraordinary visit as they’d faced everything else: together.

? ? ?

Ashwini dreamed of Felicity, woke with the young woman’s face at the forefront of her mind. It frustrated her beyond bearing to know that Giorgio and Cornelius remained free to exercise their perversions. Leaving the bed to find Janvier on the balcony on his phone, she put on a large T-shirt, stuffed her feet into thick socks, then went out to hug him from the back.

He was wearing just his jeans, his body warm against her in spite of the cold. Turning, he held her close with one arm around her shoulders as he spoke to Dmitri. “Giorgio has been connected to Lijuan,” he told her before returning to his conversation.

She could see from the lack of a smile in his eyes that there’d been no further breakthroughs. Stifling the urge to scream at the sky, she pressed a kiss to his chest, then ducked inside to shower and dress. She was putting her hair in a ponytail when she heard the sound of angelic wings nearby. Glancing out the balcony doors, she was just in time to catch the heartbreaking light of Aodhan’s wings sweeping back up.

Janvier walked in with a duffel the next instant. “Fresh clothes.”

“What exactly do you have on him that he’ll play courier for you?” she asked, bemused at the idea of being with a man who could call in angelic help like she could a ride from a fellow hunter.

Walking backward into the bathroom, he winked. “That is between me and Sparkle, my khoobsurat and gorgeously dangerous Ashblade.”

Happy despite her raw emotions at the sense that Felicity remained lost, unable to move on, she left him to his shower and walked into the kitchen to make coffee. “I’m not giving up,” she said to the ghost of the woman who’d been punished for wanting only to believe in hope, in a future where she was cherished. “The evil pieces of shit will go down. I promise you that.”

A wintry sigh across her skin that made it pebble, her breath suddenly frosting the air as her lungs fought to deal with the sudden, excruciating cold . . . then warmth rushing back into her, and she knew that for the moment, Felicity was gone.

The kiss on the back of her neck ten minutes later was accompanied by the fresh, clean scent of soap and man. Facing him, she held up her coffee, having already eaten a couple of pieces of toast. “Sip?”