Dmitri, take care. A soft warning—Raphael allowed Dmitri to push Elena, because the inescapable fact was, Elena needed to be able to hold her own against vampires and angels alike. Dmitri was the perfect testing ground. But there were some lines he would not allow even Dmitri to cross. It is my consort to whom you speak.
Jaw set, Dmitri parted his lips to reply, but Elena beat him to it. “I might look like shit, but I’m feeling plenty blood-thirsty.” Her voice was a razor. “I’d be happy to demonstrate if you’d like to step outside for a while.”
“I would not damage the Sire’s consort.” Arctic politeness.
Elena put fisted hands on her hips, cheeks filling with color. “Raphael, tell him you won’t do anything to him if I get ‘damaged.’ ”
“That would be a lie, Elena. I would tear out his throat.”
Dmitri’s smile was loaded with provocation. “Too bad, I guess. You’ll have to wait for my touch another day.”
Elena glared at both of them. “No wonder the two of you get along. I’m going to go finish my calls—I just wanted to let you know that a hunter who was in that part of Kagoshima a week ago said he got the creeps the entire time he was there. As if something was telling him to leave or else.”
Raphael met the gaze of the leader of his Seven after Elena left. “You will go too far one day.” Dmitri had proven his loyalty, but Elena was Raphael’s heart. There was no contest.
The vampire shrugged. “She fights better when she’s angry than when she’s hurt.”
The fact that you enjoy baiting her had nothing to do with it?
“Side benefit.” Dmitri’s smile faded the next second. “Sire, if your mother wakes, what do you want me to do?”
Raphael understood what his second was asking. “If she wakes and she is as before, there will be nothing anyone can do.”
30
The last time Elena had set foot in Japan, it had been on the trail of an investment executive—a vampire who’d decided that having served ten years of his hundred-year Contract, he’d now live a life of leisure using the money he’d siphoned from the accounts of his more trusting vampiric clients.
The angel who held the Contract had been “severely angered” by the fact that not only had the vampire broken the agreement, but that he’d used his position in the angel’s employ to swindle others. Elena had been given a “kill if unable to retrieve” order, but she’d brought the idiot back to his angel alive if petrified.
“Thank you, Guild Hunter,” the angel had said in a calm tone that held pure death when she delivered the package. “I will take care of the punishment.”
Elena had pitied the vampire, but the man had dug his own grave when he’d stolen that money. “He’s not dead, you know,” she said to Illium—who stood by her shoulder, listening to the story of the hunt. The fourth member of their party, Naasir, had stayed behind at a small settlement about an hour’s flight from here, hoping to mine further information from the locals. “His angel preferred to punish him in other ways.”
Illium’s face was clean and beautiful in the breeze that swept across the mountaintop where they stood, the blue-tipped black strands of his hair silken against his skin. “Sometimes, death is too merciful.”
“Yeah, but I felt sorry for him anyway. It was a white-collar crime.”
Illium gave her an odd look. “In the human world, such crimes are lightly punished, though they harm hundreds, leading some to choose death out of despair, while the man who beats a single person is considered the worse criminal.”
“Huh.” She stared out at the endless spread of mountain and forest in front of her. “I never thought of it that way.” Frowning, she realized the dark green of the forest wasn’t totally uninhabited—she could just glimpse the distinctively tiled roof of what might have been a temple.
Raphael? She tried to keep the worry out of her mental question. Raphael had landed with her and Illium, told them to wait while he did a preliminary survey, then disappeared into the clouds. That had been over fifteen minutes ago, and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t sense the familiar rain of his scent. Archangel?
A glint of gold in the clear blue sky. Shading her eyes, she looked up and felt her heart sigh. Hey, what’s with the silent treatment?
Still no response. Deciding to hold her peace, she watched with aching wonder as he made his way down toward the canopy—his movements powerful, precise, making the act of flying appear effortless. “He’s the most magnificent male I’ve ever seen.” The words just spilled out.
“You wound me, Ellie.”
Her lips curved, but she didn’t take her eyes off Raphael as he circled around the temple before turning to head back to them. “Ah, but you are surely the prettiest.” All eyes of gold and wings of blue, Illium should have been too beautiful, and sometimes she thought he was. What woman would dare walk beside him?
“Prettier than Ransom?” His wing brushed hers as he shifted to nudge at her shoulder with his own.
“Well now, depends if a woman likes eyes the color of ancient Venetian coins, or hair that’s a sheet of ebony silk.” She razzed Ransom about his hair, but it really was gorgeous.
A wash of wind against her face as Raphael backwinged to a landing in front of her. “You prefer the crashing hue of the sea, do you not, Elena?”
“Heard that, did you?” But she wasn’t smiling. “Why didn’t you reply when I was talking to you?” She tapped her head to make sure he understood.