Archangel's Heart (5 page)

The damn archangel had dusted her.

Glittering, sparkly stuff stuck to her, delicious beyond compare when she parted her mouth and it licked onto her tongue. Her thighs clenched. “This is not funny!” She glared
at him even as arousal flooded her system, but he was laughing too hard to care.

Her heart, it just stopped.

Even now, the Archangel of New York rarely laughed and never like this. Until she could see the youth he must've once been, with eyes of a wild, astonishing blue that asked a woman to laugh with him. She'd never before seen him as truly young. How could she? He had so much
power
that it pulsed in his every touch, burned in his skin.

Hauling him close to her with her hands fisted in the cream linen of his shirt, she took a kiss, took him. He sank into her, his wings sweeping up to wrap around her until all she could sense was Raphael, all she could taste was him. And angel dust. The special blend he'd created just for her.

He pushed one hand into her hair, fisting it as he wrapped his other arm around her waist and backed her up against a wall. Something fell with a dull thud. Maybe the vivid painting of wildflowers that had just been put up, all the art having been taken down during the repainting.

Elena loved that simple piece Honor had found in a thrift shop, but right now, it could've been a priceless artwork by the Hummingbird and she wouldn't have cared. She was far too happy to be pressed up against the hard warmth of her archangel tip to toe after spending the previous night on watch. No time for shenanigans with Dmitri away and Illium off-shift, Aodhan assigned to patrol the sea border, and Raphael dealing with the overall security situation.

She'd flown a proper defense grid, both to stay in practice and because none of them could afford to be blasé with the Cascade an unpredictable foe that could unleash itself at any moment, smashing the world back into chaos and, possibly, war.

Today, however, the others were on-shift and she could kiss her lover. He burned hot, Raphael, but he was a crashing sea in her mind, a tumultuous, passionate storm that swept her up and thundered through her veins.

We can talk to Dmitri later
, she sent to Raphael, sliding her hands up the ridges and valleys of his chest.
Let's go upstairs to our suite.

“A-hem.”

She tried to ignore that pointed cough that held a biting amusement.

Raphael's lips smiled against hers.
I think my second has other ideas.
Pulling away with a kiss that promised more to come, he folded back his wings to reveal the vampire who leaned against the wall about ten feet down the corridor, beside an open door.

Dmitri was dressed in black jeans and a black T-shirt, his arms crossed to reveal well-defined biceps. His only ornamentation was the gold wedding band on his left ring finger; he never took off that ring, no matter what. And sometimes, Elena almost liked him because of that. The rest of the time, she thought him a pain in the ass—especially as he still liked to jerk her chain with his scent games.

Hunter-born were highly sensitive to scents, particularly vampiric scents; that was what made them such good trackers. The flip side was a vulnerability to those same scents that certain vampires could exploit. Just her damn luck that Raphael's second was one of them.

Now the vampire, his sensually handsome face carved in strong lines overlaid with skin of bronze, his eyes a rich brown, and his natural scent as darkly seductive as chocolate and champagne and all things sinful, raised an eyebrow. “I knew she was going to be a bad influence from the first.”

Elena gave him the finger.

He grinned, and suddenly, she was drowning in the chocolate and champagne of him while fur rubbed over her skin. Gritting her teeth, she'd pulled a blade from her forearm sheath and thrown it at him before she consciously thought about what she was going to do.

D
mitri moved just barely in time.

The blade thudded home in the wall on which he'd been leaning, would've pinned his ear to it if he hadn't shifted. As it was, he rubbed his jaw, then reached up to remove the blade and throw it back to her in an easy spin she caught without issue. “You're faster.”

Raphael nodded. “Yes.” He moved down the corridor until they were about fifteen feet apart. “Throw blades at me,” he said. “As fast as you can.”

Elena didn't hesitate—Raphael was more than strong enough that even if he didn't dodge in time, he'd heal from a knife wound in a heartbeat. But she didn't think he wouldn't be able to dodge. She'd sparred with him enough to know he moved like lightning. The only angel who was faster was Illium.

Bluebell could outdodge even his sire's blades if he tried hard enough.

She threw every one of her blades one after the other in a blur of metal, aware of Dmitri watching with dark-eyed focus as Raphael dodged or simply caught the weapons in the air.
Honor poked out her head from her office across from Dmitri's, realized what was going on, and stayed safely out of the line of fire. She, too, would heal from a knife wound, but she was a baby vampire. It would take time—though not as much as it should.

At Dmitri's request, Raphael was the angel who'd Made Honor. She had the blood of an archangel running through her veins, just enough to make her stronger and more advanced in vampiric terms than she should've been for her age as an almost-immortal. Not that it had changed her except on the surface, honing her beauty to a luminous edge.

No, Honor was still Honor: a woman full of heart who loved history and languages and who was a hunter to the core. A number of former street kids owed their bright new futures to Honor's deep capacity for love—and the other woman wasn't resting on her laurels. She continued to work to save children who were lost and alone.

“Whoa!” Honor cried out as one of Elena's blades almost clipped Raphael's temple.

Elena grinned and spun out another blade before he could recover from his harsh swerve, but he was still too fast. He caught her final blade, spun it over, and threw it back. She slid it into her thigh sheath, then put away the others as he threw them back to her one by one. Several had embedded into the carpet and the walls after he moved out of the way, and Elena wondered what the Tower repair crew would make of the random knife holes that had appeared in this newly renovated hallway.

Probably shrug and mutter, “Business as usual.”

“So?” she asked as she sheathed the last of the blades, her heart thumping with the exhilaration and pure fun of what they'd just done.

Surprisingly, it was Honor who answered. “You're faster,” she said definitively. “I remember watching you practice in the Guild ring a year ago, and while you were dangerously good, you could've never come that close to actually hitting Raphael.”

Dmitri's gaze had softened when it landed on his wife, but by the time he returned his attention to Elena, those dark irises
gleamed once again with taunting amusement. “It appears the Tower's resident baby is now a toddler.”

“I'm going to carve out your heart one day, fry it with salsa sauce, then feed it to the crows,” Elena said conversationally. “Don't worry, Honor. It'll grow back. Unfortunately.”

Shaking her head, Honor walked over to stand beside her husband. He immediately put his arm around her shoulders. Unlike her usual casual office wear, Honor was dressed in hunting clothes today—leather pants, boots, a simple T-shirt, and a leather jacket that would protect against knife strikes or claws.

“You on a hunt?” Elena asked.

“Just got back,” Honor said with a roll of dramatic green eyes tilted up at the corners and set against skin of warm honey brushed with a shimmer of gold, the soft ebony of her curls pulled back in a ponytail. “A spoiled and frankly idiotic vampire decided to take off after a fight with his angelic master—who also happens to be his lover.”

She threw up her hands. “I mean, who thought that was a good idea? I found him ‘hiding out' in a fancy hotel drinking expensive room-service blood, hauled him home, and left vampire and angel both looking at each other with equally sulky, pouty faces.”

Adding her own eye roll to Honor's because, seriously, people were stupid sometimes. Even people who'd lived for centuries. “A job's a job I guess—and we have to stay sharp.”

“That's what I figured.” Honor shrugged. “But forget about me. When are you two going to be friends?” A pointed glance from Dmitri to Elena and back.

“Never,” Elena and Dmitri said in concert, then scowled at each other for that unintended agreement.

Honor laughed and reached up to run her lips over the hard line of Dmitri's jaw, while Raphael's amusement was quieter but no less potent.

“Nice of you to dress up for me, though,” Dmitri said to Elena.

“What?”

“You're sparkling.”

“Oh, bite me,” she said, realizing her mistake a second too late.

The damn vampire bared his teeth, fangs flashing. But before he could say something designed to aggravate her, Honor pressed a finger over his lips. “Dmitri only bites his wife now,” she said before pointing at Elena. “Shoo. Go home so we can get some work done. Or my husband will spend all his time having fun by irritating you.”

Raphael was already by Elena's side, his wing overlapping hers, his feathers a shimmering white gold against the midnight and dawn of her own. “I give the Tower and my territory into your keeping, Dmitri. Not simply for tonight, but until I return from Lumia.”

Dmitri straightened, his expression wiped of all humor and his skin taut over the bones of his face. “They've called a meeting?”

“Yes. We leave on the dawn.”

Suddenly, Dmitri wasn't the infuriating vampire who messed with Elena just because he could, but very much Raphael's second, his own strength such that certain angels had been known to warn Raphael to be careful, that he couldn't trust a man with that much personal power. Those angels didn't understand the bond between the two men. They weren't simply sire and second. They were friends as close as brothers.

Dmitri would die for Raphael.

And difficult as it was for outsiders to understand, he would die for Elena, too.

Because you are his heart, Elena. A man with his heart torn out is a broken creature. I know.

Words he'd spoken to her once, when they'd been alone on a balcony one quiet midnight long before he'd found Honor. He'd made no attempt to hide the scars on him when he looked at her. And not for the first time, she'd realized that Dmitri had had a life before he became a vampire. A life that had involved a wife and children.

“Sire, you must take care.” The vampire's body was all hard lines. “The rules have been—
are—
being broken. I don't trust the others not to strike even within the sacrosanct halls of the Luminata's innermost sanctum.”

“Have no fear, Dmitri. I have no intention of lowering my guard.” Raphael paused. “I thought to take Aodhan as our
escort. He will enjoy seeing the art that is meant to line the walls of Lumia, and he is powerful enough that no one will consider him an easy mark.”

“But not as powerful as Illium.” Dmitri's eyes narrowed before he nodded, his arm still around a silent Honor. “Illium might be seen as too confrontational. Of course, Aodhan doesn't exactly blend in, so you'll still be making a point.”

The point being that Raphael's Seven was made up of extraordinary men; Elena had come to realize the oldest three could've
all
been an archangel's second. Each and every one was strong, intelligent, and honed enough to hold a position at an archangel's side. Yet they chose to serve one archangel, chose to work with one another instead of in competition.

“Can I take my Guard?” Elena asked, wanting to give Raphael as much firepower as he was “legally” permitted.

While she still wasn't really sure what to do with the Guard she'd somehow acquired, they were all capable fighters. A couple of them—namely Ashwini and Janvier—were also excellent at being smartly sneaky, using that to offset the disadvantage of their relatively young ages.

But Raphael shook his head. “In this situation, you are coming as my consort, and as such, if you take your Guard, it would be seen as an admission that I don't believe I can protect you.”

“I hate angelic politics.” She ran a hand through her hair. “So, it'll be me, you, and Aodhan. Dmitri and Illium will watch the city?” The two could definitely handle it, but it'd be hard going with little time for rest.

“Venom will be back in New York in the next twenty-four hours. Galen has authorized his return.” He spoke to her and Dmitri both. “Naasir and Galen will hold the Refuge territory safe, while Jason will do what he does.”

In other words, she thought as the two of them flew off the Tower after a short good-bye, Jason would provide any and all intel the others needed to do their jobs. Elena's Guard, meanwhile, would be co-opted by Dmitri. It was how they'd set it up. Those in her Guard were being trained under Dmitri's guidance because, while she could say many things about Raphael's second, the one thing she couldn't say was that he was bad at his job.

The setup worked for all of them—Elena wasn't yet ready to take full control of her Guard, not when she was still learning herself. She'd only ended up with a Guard by accident anyway. It was Elijah's consort, Hannah, who'd convinced her to give it serious attention.

“As you grow in power and age,” the other consort had said, “you'll come to be seen less as a curiosity and more as a threat.” Hannah's dark eyes had held a quiet wisdom, her ebony skin exquisitely without flaw and her jet-black curls woven into an intricate knot at her nape, her wings a lush and luxuriant cream with a caress of peach on the primaries. “Never forget that while archangels are extremely difficult to kill, consorts like you and I aren't so difficult.”

Savaging the archangel's heart in the process.

“And,” Hannah had said with a smile, “now is the best time to build your Guard, when you are at the same level as your people. They will become strong by your side, your friendships forged into iron over time. It will be far more difficult to gather people you trust once you
are
influential in any sense—then you'll first wonder if they are truly loyal to you, or if they hunger to be attached to a woman with power.”

Elena knew she already had a certain level of power by dint of being Raphael's consort, but she also knew that mattered little to the people in her Guard. Ashwini had been a trusted fellow hunter and friend for years. Her mate, Janvier, adored Ash with such open delight that Elena knew he'd never betray anyone Ash called a friend—quite aside from the fact that Janvier was also fiercely loyal to Raphael.

Izak was . . . well, he was adorable.

She wanted to smile every time she thought of the young angel who had such a big crush on her. His soul was honest and sweet and out there for the world to see.

As for Vivek, he'd saved her life so many times that she'd lost count. The Guild's former head of intelligence was now a vampire but he was still Vivek, as acerbic and as cuttingly intelligent as always. Placed on the Tower's intelligence team after his Making, he'd proved so capable that he'd become Jason's right-hand man when it came to intelligence gathering.

Not that the Vivek whom Elena had always known wasn't a little different these days. She'd become friends with a brilliant hunter-born man who'd been paralyzed below the shoulders in a childhood accident. But while Vivek remained in a wheelchair, he'd regained feeling above the waist, had full control of his arms and torso.

Vivek's probably going to leave my Guard and his position in the Tower at some point
, she said to Raphael as they swept through the darkening sky above a city ramping up for the night to come.

He flew beside her, his wings glowing in the faint, last rays of the sunset—but they were solid. The wings of rippling white fire she'd seen the day he rescued Illium—when the other angel suffered a catastrophic incident in the sky—hadn't reappeared since; all she'd caught in the past two years had been rare flickers of that pristine flame, flickers that disappeared as quickly as they appeared.

Yes
, Raphael answered.
Vivek Kapur was forced into certain choices because of his accident. He will need to explore in freedom before he decides if he wants to return to the life and the work he has made for himself.

It's going to happen sooner than anyone predicted.
Vivek was healing at a speed even Keir hadn't foreseen—likely because Vivek had been Made a vampire by Aodhan, with Keir's assistance.
He's still going to be under Contract.
A hundred years to serve in return for the gift of near-immortality.

Elena, you know he is yours. I will not hold him to the Contract.
Eyes of searing blue meeting her gaze.
But you should—he is your friend but he will still be a young vampire with violently strong urges. He must have a firm hand on him until he regains his human control once more.

The idea of restraining Vivek in any way was abhorrent to Elena, though she knew Raphael was right.
Maybe I can ask Jason to oversee him.
She'd never thought to witness Vivek in awe of anyone but he was definitely in awe of Raphael's spymaster.
I think he'd listen to Jason in a way he'd never listen to me. I'm pretty sure he wants to
be
Jason when he grows up.
She and Vivek were contemporaries, equals,
while Jason occupied a whole different category.
What do you think?

I think you know your Guard well.
Raphael's wings glinted as he swept down to glide over wings of silver blue.