16

Raphael thought of what he’d glimpsed in the eyes of the Luminata leader when he first greeted Elena. Gian hadn’t stepped over any lines, which was why he was still alive. But there had been distinct male admiration in his gaze. “We can’t know until we track down your family line and discover if the unusual coloring is strong in the line, or if your grandmother was the first.”

Lips twisting, Elena stared out at Lumia. “Whoever Gian’s lover was, these guys could put me on the path to finding the truth about that side of my history, but I have the feeling no one’s going to just answer my questions if I ask.”

“The angels you overheard, you should find out how long they’ve been Luminata.”

“Why?”

“Because unless they knew Gian in the outside world, it’s possible Gian was already Luminata when he was involved with the unknown woman. And not just a brother—he’s been the Luminata for centuries.”

Elena sucked in a breath. “He’d have broken his vows. Shit, if that’s true, no wonder it’s verboten to discuss it.”

Gripping his protective instincts in a fierce hold, Raphael spread his wings so that his left wing was lying across her back. “If the Cadre meeting drags on as I expect it to, you’ll have several days to explore Lumia and try to unearth the truth. But never forget—angelic secrets can be deadly.”

Elena wove her fingers through his. “I can feel you gritting your teeth, Archangel.”

Raphael turned to look at her, raising a single eyebrow. It was a look Elena had more than once labeled “pure archangelic arrogance.”

Instead of responding with a wicked grin as she so often did, his consort leaned over and kissed him on the cheek with unexpected sweetness, the shadow of his wing shading them both. “Doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate the effort.” The grin peeked out.

No woman had ever treated him with such irreverent affection. Only his warrior. “Teasing an archangel can be a dangerous game.”

“Not for me,” Elena said smugly, leaning her head against his shoulder. “Not when that archangel is the ridiculously beautiful Archangel of New York.”

“Ridiculously beautiful?”

“Those eyes, that hair, those bones.” She shook her head. “I mean, it’s so not fair to every other man on the planet.”

“And why are you thinking about other men?”

Laughing, she lifted their linked hands to her mouth, pressing a kiss to his knuckles. “I just realized how tough it must be to be a man dating in New York when all the women are crazy about you.”

“Most women are terrified of me.” Only Elena saw the man before the pitiless Archangel of New York.

“Hmm. Good point.” Her wing moved under his. “Remember when I was terrified of you?”

“You were never terrified of me.”

“Hah! Are you kidding? I was scared out of my skin—but I still thought you were hot. I’m obviously a little deranged.”

Raphael didn’t laugh. “I’m glad you got over the terror,” he said quietly. “The idea of eternity without you is my personal vision of hell.”

“Raphael.” Eyes silver in the night, Elena touched her fingers to his jaw. “This is my heaven. You are my heaven.”

And she was his. “Hunt, Elena,” he said. “Unearth secrets. But stay safe.”

“I’m not the one who’s going to be stuck in a room with the most dangerous beings on the planet,” she said with a scowl before adding, “I promise to be careful.” She gripped his hair in a fist. “Now you promise me the same.”

“Done.”

Their kiss was a merciless, passionate seal on the promise.

*   *   *

The next morning, Raphael separated from Elena at dawn—it was customary for the Luminata to begin their day with the rising sun, and the Cadre had decided to adhere to that routine to get this over with as quickly as possible.

“The faster we get it done, the faster we can all get back to our territories,” Raphael said to his hunter as he dressed at first light, his leathers worn from use and a symbol to his fellow archangels that he wasn’t here to play games. “But fast for immortals is still slow, Elena.” You will have time enough to search for the truth.

She responded mind-to-mind, the two of them in the living area, where they’d shifted their bed the previous night. Unlike the bedroom, which backed onto a wall shared by the suite on the other side, this room had hallways on two sides, the wall to the bathing chamber on the left, and the bedroom wall on the right. It left no way for anyone to spy on them without standing openly in a hallway.

Don’t let the Cadre drive you nuts.

I will attempt to hold on to my sanity, though it may be a close thing.

They headed out together.

Elena and Aodhan walked with him to the Atrium, their pace a stroll, as if they were accompanying him to breakfast because they were at loose ends. In truth, the two were continuing to take note of as many corridors and doorways as they could. Aodhan was also attempting to spot any hidden passages.

Is it weird that I’m excited even though I’m frustrated, too?

Raphael smiled. You are a hunter, Elena. And you have a scent.

God, but you “get” me, Archangel. Rising on tiptoe as they reached the Atrium, from where Raphael would be going into an inner debating chamber barred to all but the Cadre, his consort kissed him on the mouth, one of her hands curved around the side of his neck.

Branding me, Guild Hunter? Raphael said even as he closed his wings around them.

She bit his lower lip before she broke contact, her eyes shining silver. I just wanted a taste of you.

He claimed a taste of his own to take him through the day. Afterward, as he folded back his wings, he glimpsed something over her shoulder. Tasha is about to enter the Atrium. Perhaps you two will end up friends after being shut up in Lumia for the duration of the meeting.

Elena bared her teeth at him. I think you’re going too far with this sense of humor thing.

Raphael laughed and it was at that moment that his mother stepped into the Atrium, having swept down the hallway with Tasha at her side.

*   *   *

A hauntingly clear voice invaded Elena’s mind, the howl of age so heavy that she would’ve staggered had Raphael still not had his hands on her. You make my son laugh, Consort. Purest love in that haunting, ancient voice, a shimmer of tears that spoke of incandescent joy. Never stop doing this.

Elena?

Swallowing to wet a dry throat as her body threatened to begin shaking uncontrollably, Elena looked into eyes of a blue of such undiluted clarity, their beauty was almost too painful to bear. Your mother was speaking to me.

She has done so before. Raphael tightened his grip on her. You weren’t this affected.

I think she was shielding her voice or something. Her heart raced so hard she felt it in her mouth. This is so pure it’s like heaven and hell at once.

Sparks of wildfire arced through Raphael’s Legion mark, his jaw a hard line. Go sit down somewhere for a few minutes after you leave me. Trust me on this, Elena. My mother’s true voice is potent even for fellow archangels. The impact builds, like a song building to a crescendo. Do not be on your feet when it hits.

Got it. I can stand now. Her legs were a little jellylike, but they’d hold.

Raphael took his time releasing her, making it look like they were simply indulging in a little PDA. “Mother,” he said aloud afterward, turning to greet Caliane. “May I escort you inside?”

Caliane’s smile was joyous. “I would love nothing better, my son.” Despite her words, her look was careful . . . even a little hesitant. “Are you certain?”

Elena didn’t understand the question until Raphael said, “With the Cadre, I must always be an archangel first, your son second.” His words were hard and political, his tone gentle for the mother who wore her love for her son so openly. “But that doesn’t mean we cannot occasionally remind the others that we are the only bloodline with two places in the circle.”

Slipping her hand around Raphael’s forearm with a dawning smile, Caliane inclined her head to Elena. Then the two archangels moved on into the meeting chamber located off the Atrium, their wings overlapping—and though Caliane was the Ancient, it was Raphael’s wing that was protectively on top.

They didn’t stop at the breakfast table. Raphael had already told Elena the Cadre would breakfast later, angels of their strength not needing to eat as often.

Even as his wings disappeared from view behind the heavy metal doors of the inner chamber, the sea crashed into her mind. Off your feet, Elena. As soon as possible. A pause. It is considered an honor to hear Caliane’s true voice.

I don’t think I’m strong enough for it.

You will be. Absolute confidence in her archangel’s tone. Now go. I’ve warned Aodhan of the necessity for speed.

Elena turned to leave the Atrium, Aodhan by her side—and found Tasha in her path. “Elena,” the other woman said with a big smile. “It is good to see you again. Shall we breakfast together?”

Elena thought of how Tasha had fought for New York and held out her arm in the greeting of warriors. Tasha gripped it as Elena’s hand closed over her own forearm. And since Elena had a building sense of urgency in her brain, her knees warning her they were about to buckle, she decided to be upfront. “We’re never going to be friends, Tasha, but I respect you. I hope you’re well.”

Tasha’s smile turned into laughter, the green of her eyes sparkling. “Ah, Elena. You make it difficult to dislike you. Perhaps we will spar while we are here?”

“Let’s not get carried away. I’m not sure I’d trust either one of us in a ring.” Shifting a foot to the side as Tasha laughed again, she said, “Sorry to shake and run but I’ve got a prior engagement.”

“Of course.”

“You know,” Elena said to Aodhan as they walked down the hallway, “it’d be much easier to dislike her if she wasn’t strong and courageous and honorable.” Elena knew Tasha would die to protect Caliane.

Aodhan’s response was unexpected. “She still watches Raphael with the eyes of a lover. Does that make it easier?”

“Yes.” Elena bared her teeth. “It definitely does. Thanks.”

“You are welcome.” He unexpectedly touched her shoulder. “Go right, then left.”

Clenching her jaw to keep herself upright, Elena followed his instructions almost on autopilot as the crescendo howled in the back of her head. Natural light hit her eyes after the second turn, made her blink rapidly to adapt, the two of them in an external corridor that looked out onto a courtyard.

“There.” Aodhan nodded at a “window” that offered a view into the courtyard; there was no glass in it, the curved arch carved out of the stone. Beyond the archway, a couple of Luminata practiced some type of slow martial art on the stone pavings of the courtyard, their movements compelling.

Realizing that not only had Aodhan found her a safe place to sit but that she actually had an excuse to do it, Elena took a seat in the window with her legs out in the courtyard and crossed at the ankles, the ice blue fabric of her gown sliding over her boots. This gown had a flowy skirt but was a little edgy, from the straight neck, to the way it hugged her torso to the hips, to the silver zipper anchored at her right hip and split out on the diagonal over the fabric.

Elena hadn’t been able to figure out a way to wear her crossbow with it, but she had access to other weapons, including the throwing knives in her wrist sheaths, the gun strapped to her ankle, and the long knife down her spine. Hair twisted up with Mahiya’s blade sticks, she also wore a bracelet that could snap open to become a garrote.

Still . . . “I hate gowns.” Especially in a place that made her instincts bristle.

“You wear them with dangerous grace,” Aodhan said as he came to stand beside her on the outside. Together, they watched the two Luminata practice the slow, graceful movements. They wore their robes even for this, hoods pulled over their heads to obscure their faces, but their wings out.

One set of wings was a familiar searing white with dark brown primaries.

!!!!!

It hit her. The impact of Caliane’s voice. A roar of sound smashing into her, threatening to explode her eardrums and making her pulse roar, her blood thunder. She kept herself from reacting only by gripping the edge of the stone on which she sat and keeping her gaze blindly focused on the two Luminata in the courtyard.

And she knew she was going to fail.

Caliane was an Ancient, Elena an angel barely-Made. She simply didn’t have the capacity to process that much power. Raphael.

I am here. An intense wave of a different power, one that tasted of the sea and the wind and the fury of a storm of light and darkness, it shoved back the echo of his mother’s voice. My apologies, hbeebti. I’m afraid I grew up with Caliane’s voice. I have forgotten how very potent she is.

Able to breathe now, Elena inhaled shakily, exhaled. Once. Twice. Three times. Her chest still hurt, but her heart was no longer in danger of bursting in a bloody mess. You heard her as a baby? The idea was staggering.

I was apparently born with a kind of immunity.

Elena made herself release the stone, two dark red lines on her palms the only sign of how hard she’d held on. I’ve got things under control. I know you need to focus on the meeting.

It hasn’t yet begun—we’re waiting for Michaela.

Of course. She likes to make an entrance.

Attention returning to the Luminata in the courtyard when Raphael slipped away a few minutes later, Elena realized her pulse was still erratic. “Aodhan, can I ask you a question?”

“Yes, Ellie?”

“What do you think would happen if Caliane decided to sing again?”

A long pause. “It would either be a sign of great joy on her part—or the return of her insanity.”

“Yes.” Elena nodded quietly, her skin suddenly chilled. “That’s what I think, too.” She hoped for the former but was terrified it might end up the latter. Because if it did, then Raphael would have to attempt to kill his mother a second time around. No child should ever have to go through that.

In front of her, the slow dance of the Luminata began to speed up . . . and up.