Angel’s Blood (Guild Hunter #1)(70)
Author: Nalini Singh

Nodding, he rose, aware she’d be functional in another few minutes. "I saw one guard in the hall, Riker staked by the library. Where are the others?"

"All dead," she told him, lifting her left hand. A bloody diamond glittered on her ring finger. "On the roof."

"I’ll arrange extra protection."

She didn’t argue with him this time. "No invitation to your home?" She was starting to revive, burying her terror as immortals learned to do very early on.

He met her gaze. "You must remain a tempting target."

Fear skittered in the backs of her eyes. "He won’t return tonight."

"No-he’s too badly injured. Get the house repaired while he’s down." He looked up at the huge hole where the wall had been. "At least as much as you can. I’ll send you some of my angelic guards as well."

Michaela sat up, not bothering to cover her bare chest. It was a weapon, her body, one she wasn’t hesitant about using. But that wasn’t what she was concerned about right then. "Won’t that lessen my status as a tempting target?" In that moment, she was an archangel, knowing only that Uram had to die.

"He’s arrogant enough not to worry about even other archangels, you know that better than anyone."

She looked up, a spark of true pain in her eyes. "I did love him. As much as an archangel can love."

He said nothing, leaving her to consider what immortality had made her as he went to find Elena. She was waiting for him outside, on the edge of the lawn where the woods began. Her eyes immediately shot to his wing. "He damaged you." Anger whiplashed through the air.

"I damaged him worse."

"Bastard got away." She kicked at the leaves as they walked. "How’s Her Royal Bitchiness?"

"Alive."

"Pity." The word was caustic, but he remembered the compassion.

He gripped her upper arm. "Don’t ever feel sorry for Michaela. She’ll use that vulnerability to destroy you."

"Yet you saved her life."

He slid his hand down to her elbow, then off. "She’s necessary. Impossible as it may seem, Michaela is more human than Charisemnon and Lijuan."

She said nothing as they emerged into his yard and entered the house. Montgomery was waiting. His distress at Raphael’s injuries broke through his usual reserve. "Sire? The healer?"

"That won’t be necessary." When the vampire continued to wring his hands, Raphael put a hand on his shoulder. "Be easy. It will heal by nightfall."

Montgomery relaxed. "Should I bring up the meal? It’s close to noon."

"Yes." He turned to Elena as the other man moved down the corridor. "It seems we’ll share a second bath." Geraldine and Michaela had both left their mark on him, not to mention the scarlet stain of his own injuries.

She winced, touching the cuts on her cheeks-from the flying debris. "Just a quick shower for me. If I soak, my skin might peel off." A glance at her bloody clothes, a result of being carried by Raphael. "Damn, I don’t think I packed any more spares."

About to reply, Raphael heard the sound of approaching wings, a rustle that announced another angel-one who wanted to be heard. When he looked up, it was to find Jason in his sights. The angel bowed his head in respect, his black hair pulled back in a queue. "Sire, we have a problem."

Chapter 35

Elena couldn’t help staring at the new angel. His face . . . she’d never seen anything like it. The entire left-hand side was covered in an exotic tattoo composed of fine dots and swirling curves, the ink pure black against his glowing brown skin. There was a hint of Polynesia in that skin, that tattoo, but the sharpness of his facial features hinted at part of her own ancestry. Old Europe mixed with the exotic winds of the Pacific-it was one hell of a sexy combination.

"Jason," Raphael said in greeting.

"You’re injured." The new angel’s eyes went to Raphael’s wing. "This can wait." He shifted slightly, the rustle of his wings alerting Elena to the fact that she hadn’t truly seen them. Frowning, she squinted into the dimness of the hall-the stained glass dull without sunlight-but still saw nothing aside from an indistinct shadow.

She had to ask. "Where are your wings?"

Jason gave her an inscrutable look, then flared out a wing in silence. It was a deep, sooty black. The wing didn’t reflect light but seemed to absorb it, the edges fading into the spreading gloom. "Wow," she said. "Guess you make one hell of a night scout."

Jason glanced from her to Raphael. "The report can wait, but it’s important you hear it."

"I’ll join you in an hour."

"Sire, if early evening would suit, I’d like to fly out to check on something else."

"Contact me when you return."

With a short nod, Jason left. Elena didn’t say anything until after both she and Raphael had cleaned up and were tucking into the food Jeeves had brought up. But first things first. "Your butler laundered my clothes," she said from her cross-legged position on the bed. The cargos and T-shirt from yesterday had been waiting for her, washed and ironed.

Raphael raised an eyebrow in front of her, having chosen to sit on the bed, too, one leg on the mattress, the other foot-first on the floor beside it, his injured wing draped gently across the sheets to promote optimal healing. To her pleasure-and she was too achy and frustrated to lie to herself about how he made her feel-he’d asked her to spread a special ointment on the injured section. She knew full well it was a measure of how their relationship had changed that he’d kept her with him while he was injured. No Dmitri tying her to a chair this time. "I highly doubt that," he said now. "Montgomery runs the house-he’d never sully himself washing clothes."

"You know what I mean, Archangel. He’s like the house-work fairy-only better!"

"Somehow, the idea of Montgomery as a fairy doesn’t have the same effect on me as it appears to have on you."

"Give it time." She bit into her everything-and-more sandwich. "So, Jason’s your spy. Or should I say, spymaster?"

"Very good, Guild Hunter." He ate the other half of the sandwich in about three bites. "Though some would say his face makes him too distinctive."

"That tattoo-it had to have hurt." She winced, having been too chicken to get inked herself. Ransom had tried to talk her into one when he’d gotten the band around his arm. Watching the blood being blotted off his skin hadn’t inspired her to follow suit . "How long do you think it took?"

"Exactly ten years," Raphael said, watching her with those eyes that seemed to see straight through to her soul.