Elena played her fingers along the hilt of a knife he hadn't seen her draw. "That's when you know you've stepped over the line." She looked up, her eyes haunted. "When it starts to feel good."
"You'll never cross that line," he said, moving to pull her to a standing position. He might not be certain of himself, but he had no doubts when it came to Elena.
"How do you know?" Her face was a mask hiding a thousand nightmares. "I was glad when Uram died. I was so damnhappy the bastard was dead."
"Did you delight in his pain?" he murmured in her ear. "Did you smile when he bled, when his flesh burned? Did you laugh when I ended his life?"
He felt her rejection of the idea even before she shook her head, wrapping her arms tight around him. "Do you ever worry?"
"Yes. Cruelty seems to be a symptom of age and power." He thought of Lijuan, raising the dead, playing with them as a child would with toys. "I look into my heart and see the abyss looking back at me."
"I won't let you fall." A fierce promise.
He held her close, his immortal with a mortal heart.
An hour later, and still able to feel Raphael's arms around her, Elena walked into a classroom. Ten pairs of shiny eyes stared at her in mute fascination as she took a seat in the semicircle. Elena was doing some staring of her own. This was the closest she'd ever been to the youngest of immortals - they appeared significantly frailer than she would've guessed, their wings so delicate she could've torn apart each with her bare hands.
Finally, one little girl, her tawny hair in pigtails, wings of autumn and sunset at her back, dared to speak. "Are you a kid?"
Elena bit the inside of her lip and shifted on the big, firm cushion - to her eternal gratitude there'd been one in her size in the corner - that seemed to function as a chair.
"No," she answered, feeling her spirits lighten in a way she'd never have expected after her conversation with Raphael. "But I haven't been an angel very long." Of course, when Dmitri had told her she'd be attending lessons to bring her up to speed on angelic culture - to save her from her own ignorance - she hadn't quite expected this.
Whispers behind raised hands, passed angel to angel. Until one almond-eyed girl said,
"You were mortal."
"Yep." She leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees.
"You're not supposed to do that," a boy with loose black curls whispered urgently from her left. "If Jessamy sees you, you'll be in trouble."
"Thanks." Elena sat back up as the boy - who looked about four - nodded in approval.
"Why am I not allowed to do that?"
"Because it's bad for your posture."
"Excellent, Sam," an adult voice said from behind Elena. An instant later, a tall, painfully thin angel dressed in a long blue gown swept around Elena's right, heading to the top of the semicircle. This, Elena though, must be the dreaded Jessamy.
"I see you've all met our newest student," the teacher said.
Sam raised his hand.
"Yes, Sam?"
"I can show her around."
"That's very kind of you." A twinkle in those stern brown eyes, hidden within a blink.
But Elena had seen it, and it made her like this woman.
"Now," Jessamy said, "because it's Elena's first day, I'd like to review some of the material we've already covered, particularly that which relates to our physiology."
Elena glanced at Sam. "You're not four, are you?"
"I'mnot a baby," was the indignant response, before they were both hushed by their neighbors.
Then, as Elena listened and learned, the other students taught her the names and functions of every muscle, every bone, and every feather, from the ones that controlled direction to the ones that reduced drag and increased thrust.
By the time class was over, Elena had a head full of information and a keen awareness of just how much more she still needed to learn.
"You may go," Jessamy said to the class as she rose. "Elena, I'd like a word with you."
Sam's disappointment was all huge brown eyes. "Shall I wait for you?"
"Yes," Elena said. "I haven't been to this part of the Refuge before." It lay in the dead center of the sprawling city - neutral territory according to Illium.
A sunny smile, so innocent it made her suddenly afraid for him. "I'll wait in the play area." Inclining his head toward the teacher, he made his way out the door, his black-tipped brown wings trailing on the floor.
"Sameon," Jessamy said gently.
"Oops." Another smile. "Sorry." The wings lifted up.
"They'll be back down the instant he's out of sight," Jessamy waved to two adult-sized cushions beside a desk piled with books. "Who told you to join the class?"
Suspicion licked up Elena's spine as they took their seats. "Dmitri."
"Ah." The teacher's eyes sparkled. "You weren't supposed to be with the little ones. I'm meant to tutor you separately."
"I'd threaten to skin him," Elena muttered, "but I enjoyed the lesson. Do you mind if I sit in on more? They teach me by simply being."
"You're welcome at any time." Jessamy's thin face grew solemn. "But you must learn far faster than they if you're to survive Zhou Lijuan."
Elena hesitated.
"I know about the reborn," Jessamy said in a voice thick with horror. "I'm the depository of angelic knowledge. It's my duty to keep the histories - but this history, I wish I didn't have to write."
Nodding in silent agreement, Elena put her hand on the books piled on the desk. "Are these for me to read?"