Angel's Blood (Page 47)

Angel’s Blood (Guild Hunter #1)(47)
Author: Nalini Singh

"To you-Death."

"Very funny." She stared at the back of his neck. "Why do you want to kill me?"

"I’m a member of the Seven."

She suddenly realized why she recognized his scent-he’d been in her apartment the night she shot Raphael. He was the one who’d held her with her arms pinned behind her back. No wonder he wanted to gut her. "Look, Raphael and I have sorted things out. Not your problem."

"We protect Raphael from threats even he might not yet see."

"Great." She blew out a breath. "But . . . did you go inside the warehouse?"

The temperature dropped. "Yes."

"Killing me is not the priority," she said softly, but she was no longer speaking to him. "Where are you taking me?"

"To Raphael."

She watched the streets pass by and realized they were heading out of Manhattan and toward the George Washington Bridge. "How long have you been with Raphael?"

"You ask a lot of questions for a dead woman."

"What can I say? I prefer to die well-informed."

A short distance over the bridge and she might as well have been in Vermont. Trees dominated the skyline, veiling the expensive homes that lined this particular stretch, most of them with clifftop outlooks and ridiculous buffers of land. She’d heard rumors the driveways were longer than some roads, and the fact that she couldn’t glimpse a single house from the car tended to support that theory.

The driver turned in front of a pair of ornate metal gates and pressed something on the dash. The gates opened soundlessly, belying their apparent age. Elena sucked in a breath as they headed into the corridor of trees. This area was marked on maps as the Fort Lee / Palisades region, but even non-New Yorkers called it the Angel Enclave. Elena didn’t know anyone who’d ever been beyond the gates that guarded each magnificent property. Angels were very private when it came to their homes.

The driveway was long. It was only as they turned that she caught sight of the large house at the end. Painted an elegant white, it had obviously been built for a being with wings-open balconies ringed the second and third floors. The roof was sloped, but not so much that an angel couldn’t land.

Huge windows took up most of the wall space, and though she couldn’t fully see it, it appeared as if the left-hand side might feature a stunning creation of stained glass. But even that wasn’t the true glory-crawling up along the sides of the house were what looked like a hundred rosebushes, all amazingly still in full bloom. "It looks like something out of a fairy tale." The dark and dangerous kind.

The driver almost choked on his laughter. "Do you expect fairies inside?" He brought the car to a halt.

"I’m hunter-born, vampire. I never believed in fairies." Stepping out, she closed the door. "You coming in?"

"No." He leaned back against the hood, arms folded, mirrored sunglasses reflecting back her own image. "I’ll wait here-unless you plan to start screaming. Then I want a ring-side seat."

"First Dmitri and now you." She shook her head. "Is pain really what floats the boat of all the old vamps?"

Another smile, this one with a deliberate hint of fang. "Come into my parlor, little hunter, and I’ll show you."

Come here, little hunter. Taste.

Cold slivered through her, chasing away the sun’s warmth. Not responding to the vampire’s provocation, she grabbed her bag and strode to the front door, able to hear the murmur of the Hudson in the background. She wondered if the house had a water view, or if the trees blocked it. Probably didn’t matter to a being who could fly up for a good vantage point.

The door opened before she got there. This time, the vamp was of the ordinary variety. Experienced but not old, not like the driver and Dmitri. "If you’d please follow me," he said.

She blinked at the plummy British tone. "You sound like a butler."

"I am a butler, madam."

Elena didn’t know what she’d been expecting, but a butler was not it. She followed in silence as he led her through a wash of brilliant colors-sunshine coming in through the stained glass she’d guessed at-to a pair of carved wooden doors. "The sire awaits you in the library. Would you care for a cup of coffee or tea?"

"Wow, I want a butler, too." She bit her lower lip. "Would it be too much trouble to ask for a snack? I’m starving." Throwing up was hell on a girl’s appetite.

The butler’s expression didn’t change, but she could’ve sworn he was amused. "Preparations have been made for a cold lunch. It’ll be served in the library."

"Then some coffee would be great. Thanks."

"Of course, madam." He went to open the library doors. "I can take your bag to your room if you wish."

"Then I wish." Still musing over the idea of having met a real live butler, she handed the bag to him and walked inside. Raphael was standing by the huge windows on the right-hand side, backlit by sunshine. His wings glittered gold and white and it was such an arresting sight that she almost missed the second person in the room.

The woman stood by the mantel, wings of bronze, eyes too green to be mortal, and skin of such a beautiful dusky shade it was as if gold had been pounded into bronze and then mixed with cream. Her hair was a curly mass of brown and gold that reached the curve of her butt. A butt displayed very nicely in the catsuit currently painted over her body. A shimmery bronze, the garment zipped up the front and left her arms bare. Right now, it was unzipped just enough to hint at the perfect globes of her br**sts.

"So, this is the hunter you find so fascinating." The voice was smooth whiskey, honey and cream, sensual and full of venom.

Elena shrugged. "I’d say it’s more a case of finding me useful."

The female archangel raised an eyebrow. "Didn’t anybody ever teach you not to interrupt your betters?" Astonishment in every word.

"Why, yes, they did." She let her tone say the rest.

The archangel flicked out a hand and that was when Raphael spoke. "Michaela."

Michaela dropped her hand. "You allow the human too much freedom."

"Be that as it may, the Guild Hunter is under my protection for the duration of the hunt."

Michaela’s smile was sweet poison. "Pity Uram is so creative, otherwise I would’ve enjoyed teaching you your place."

"I’m not the one he’s courting with gifts of human hearts."

That wiped the smile off Michaela’s face. She straightened, her skin beginning to glow. "I look forward to eating your heart when it’s delivered."