Angel’s Blood (Guild Hunter #1)(51)
Author: Nalini Singh

"You can deduct it from my slow and painful death." She dropped her leg from his waist. "It’s time to talk murder."

He leaned in, caging her with his arms. "You’re holding a knife again."

She clenched her hand around the handle. "You drive me to violence." Sliding the knife back into her boot, she folded her arms and tried not to think about how good he smelled. "What did you do with the survivor?"

"Dmitri has taken her to our healers, our doctors."

"Because she might be infected. With what?"

"Uram’s madness."

She was so shocked at getting a straight answer that it took her close to a minute to respond. "That’s not possible. Madness isn’t catching."

"Uram’s brand may be."

Christ. "But she’s human."

Raphael’s eyes flamed cobalt. "She was. Now the doctors will tell us what she’s become." He paused. "We know she ingested some of Uram’s blood-it could’ve been by accident but more likely, he made her feed from him."

She didn’t give in to pity. That woman-girl, really-had survived a monster intent on destroying everything she was. She deserved a f**king medal for courage, not pity. "If she is infected, will you kill her?"

"Yes."

Elena wanted to hate him for that, but she couldn’t. "Four years ago," she found herself saying, "there was a rash of killings on the banks of the Mississippi. Young boys strangled; their eyes removed."

"A human."

"Yes. A hunter." Bill James had been her friend once upon a time, her trainer before that. "We-me, Ransom, and Sara-had to find and execute him." Hunters always took care of their own.

A cool whisper of a breeze as Raphael unfurled his wings and curled them back in. "So many nightmares in your head."

"They make me who I am."

"Did you kill this hunter?"

"Yes." It had come down to the two of them. "Sara was badly injured, Ransom too far away, and Bill was about to kill a terrified young boy. So I stabbed him through the heart." No time to get her gun, so much blood everywhere, the look of betrayal in Bill’s eyes as his heart pulsed one last time, a chaos of memory. Now she looked up into another pair of eyes. "If that girl’s become a monster, she needs to die."

"Am I a monster, Elena?"

She looked into that perfect face and saw the echoes of cruelty, of time. "Not yet," she whispered. "But you could be."

His jaw was a harsh line. "It’s a symptom of age-cruelty."

It hurt her to know that the humanity in Raphael-buried deep, but there-might one day cease to exist. Yet at the same time, she couldn’t help but be glad for his immortality. Someone this magnificent shouldn’t die. "Tell me about the Quiet."

His wings extended to their full width. "We must go to Michaela’s home and see if you can pick up a scent-there’s a good chance he spent hours watching her before today."

She blew out a frustrated breath. "Fine. We flying?" Her heart hitched-she was becoming used to being carried in Raphael’s arms, the sound of his wings steady and powerful.

"No," he said, lips curving as if he’d read her excitement. "Michaela’s American home is next door."

"Convenient." For sneaking into Raphael’s bed.

He finally moved enough that she could hop down. "Michaela has been many things through the centuries-scholar, courtesan, muse-but she’s never been a warrior."

My lovers have always been warrior women.

She wondered how many of those women had been as foolish as her-foolish enough to walk into his arms knowing that if push came to shove, the archangel would end her life with a single, final thought. "It’s time for this warrior to earn her keep."

Bloodlust

He was sluggish, sated, the blood heavy in his gut.

He’d overindulged, but what glorious overindulgence it had been.

Dipping his fingers into the bowl of blood he’d saved from the cattle he’d butchered, he brought them to his mouth and licked.

Flat. Lifeless.

Disappointed, he smashed the bowl to the floor, spreading a dark red stain on the white carpet. But there was still the beauty above. He looked up, even as the dull heaviness in his limbs began to lighten, turning into a slow kind of anticipation.

Now he knew-the blood had to be fresh.

Next time, he’d take it straight from their beating hearts. His eyes grew red with violent hunger. Yes, next time, he wouldn’t kill . . . he’d keep.

Chapter 27

Elena wasn’t the least surprised when Michaela’s mansion turned out to be a place of beauty and grace. The archangel might be a two-faced bitch, but she hadn’t earned her reputation as the muse of artists across the ages by accident.

"This was where we found the . . . gift," the vampire guard told her, pointing to a patch of bloodstained grass.

The bite of acid was sharp here despite the other vampire’s presence. Either Uram had mingled some of his own blood with the hearts, or he’d landed on the lawn itself. Talk about brazen . . . and creepy. The hairs on the back of her neck rose. "Can you move out of the immediate area?"

He gave a short nod but didn’t take a step. "I was hunted once."

Elena looked up to where she could see Raphael and Michaela talking on a high balcony overlooking the lawn, and wondered if either angel would mind if she simply coldcocked the idiot at her side-she didn’t have time to deal with this kind of shit. "Can’t have been too bad if you’re still here."

"My mistress flayed the skin off my back and made it into a purse."

She wondered how well that info would go down with the faction who ascribed heavenly origins to the angels. "Yet you serve her even now." It sounded like something the bitch goddess would do.

The vampire smiled, showed teeth. "It was a very nice purse." Then he finally walked away. She’d have to watch her back around that one, she thought. Whatever else Michaela had done to him over the centuries, he was no longer all there.

"Immortality has way too many drawbacks," she muttered, adding the possibility of becoming a purse to her mental list. Her eye fell on the bloody grass again. Kneeling, she confirmed the scent, then began walking out in ever-increasing circles.

Uram’s scent blanketed the area. The archangel had most certainly touched down, standing there cloaked in glamour while Michaela’s guards remained clueless. Elena would’ve worried about running into him, but the scent, while pervasive, wasn’t as strong as it would’ve been had he been in the immediate vicinity. That made her wonder-were other archangels able to sense their brethren through the glamour?