Rising, she flicked off the water. “Yeah.” Then she did something he would’ve never expected. Stepping forward, she buried her face in his chest.
Trust, he thought, as he enclosed her within the protection of his arms, his wings; there was such trust in what she had done. “I have a task for you, Guild Hunter,” he said, weaving the fingers of one hand through the pale silk of her hair, unraveling her braid.
“Good.” A rough statement.
“The vampire who spilled blood last night may be in this building. You must hunt.”
A hum of energy in the body under his hands and then she was pulling away to head for the rooftop entrance to the building. “The scent was rich, distinctive, the notes unusual. I should be able to narrow it down very fast if he is—or was—anywhere in the vicinity.”
She, Elena, he corrected, remembering the way he’d once tested her with two barely-Made vampires. She’d been shocked by their skittering, animalistic appearance but had not faltered in her task. Neha’s assassin is a woman.
“Figures.” Opening the door, she hesitated. “This place is too narrow for wings. Not a good tactical move to be trapped in there—and not necessary. The scent of oleanders in bloom ... I can almost touch it. Too strong for her not to be inside.”
“It won’t be difficult to draw her out,” he said once she returned to his side. However, when he flew down to the window that looked into the vampire’s room, what he saw had him calling off the hunt. She’s dead. There is a noose wrapped around her throat—I’m fairly certain it will turn out to be a snake.
Elena dropped down beside him. Neha decided to clean up her mess.
So it would seem. Dmitri will organize the body retrieval.
Once it’s out of there, I want a chance to double-check the scent. Just in case. Flying down below him and then back up with an awkward grace that did nothing to hide the potential of what she would one day become, Elena brushed silky strands of hair out of her eyes. Do you have time to come spar with me?
Missing Galen?
A dark word. Bastard was good. But you’re meaner when you’re in the mood.
Raphael wasn’t sure he liked that. I would never hurt you, Elena.
Of course not. She waved at a young blond angel sitting with his legs hanging off one of the high balconies of the Tower as they passed. The male beamed, waved back. But you also don’t have to worry about an archangel zapping you if you put a bruise on me. We can go at it full tilt, and I really need some no-holds-barred sessions.
Only she could speak to him thus. Only she could make him feel young in a way he had not felt for over a thousand years. We’ll train at the house. Bypassing a group of angels coming in to land on the Tower roof, he took them toward the Hudson. Afterward, he said as they hit the airspace above the water, you may thank your trainer in the most age-old of ways.
Warmth uncurling in her abdomen at the sensual order, Elena went to tease Raphael when a roaring wind came out of nowhere, crumpling her wings and threatening to send her slamming into the suddenly raging waters below. Raphael! The mental cry was instinctive, tearing out of her even as a strange, exotic scent wrapped a suffocating blanket around her senses.
The rain and the wind in her mind, a drenching storm that shoved away all other impressions. My apologies, Elena. He took control, overwhelming her will with his own as he twisted her body in a way she would’ve never done herself, allowing her to spread out her wings and find stability moments before she would’ve hit the water.
Her mind was her own again a split second afterward.
The whole thing had happened so fast she hadn’t had time to feel much beyond the adrenaline pumping through her body, but now, as she winged herself to a balanced position, she blew out a breath. Once, when they’d first met, Raphael had said something to her.
I could make you crawl, Elena. Do you really want me to force you onto your hands and knees?
“I thought you couldn’t do that anymore,” she whispered out loud, knowing he remained connected to her. “I thought I had shields now.”
You do, but you must focus to hold them. Panic throws you wide open.
“Hell.” She knew he was right. She had panicked. Flight was still new to her—and the terror of falling was one so visceral, it was hard to hold on to logical thought in the face of it.
Dropping down to join her at the lower altitude she was just managing to maintain, her muscles taut with shock, Raphael flew by her side as she pushed herself home. It felt like it took forever, but she came to a staggering stop on the grounds below their bedroom at last. Raphael swept down in front of her an instant later, catching her shaky form with a hold on her upper arms.
“Thanks,” she said, bracing herself with her palms on her thighs when he released her. “Not just for now.” She looked up. “For before.”
His eyes pulsed with surprise. “I expected your anger.”
“I’m not stupid. Stubborn, but not stupid.” Rising to her full height, she blew out a breath. “I don’t like the fact that I’m still so vulnerable to you, but fact is, that isn’t going to change overnight.” She’d taken an archangel as a lover knowing the disparity of strength between them.
“You know I’d fight you to my last breath if you attempted to coerce me in a normal situation. What happened over the water”—her heart raced in remembered shock—“was in no way a normal situation.” A blast of wind crashed into them right then, ripping the last words from her lips, clawing at her wings as if it would tear them off.