Angel's Blood (Guild Hunter 1)
Page 39Even as she thought that, she kept her mind tightly focused, thinking "closed" thoughts.
The doors opened to reveal the glass cage atop the roof . . . and deja vu smashed into her full force. A table set with a white tablecloth, croissants, grapefruit, juice, and coffee sat in solitary splendor on that beautiful roof. The only difference was, this time, Raphael stood with his back to her on the farthest edge.
Forgetting all about Dmitri, she stepped out of the elevator and headed toward the exit. The elevator doors closed behind her, but she was barely aware of its-and Dmitri's-departure, her focus on the wings of an archangel she'd last seen bleeding out on her apartment floor. "Raphael," she said as soon as she exited the glass cage.
He turned slightly and she took it as an invitation to go to him-she had to see for herself that the damage had been healed. His wings appeared perfect from a distance and it was only as she got closer that she saw the startling change. "It's as if you grew the pattern of the gunshot."
He raised the wing so she could see the full scope of it. "I thought it was isolated to the underside, but it's both."
She stood, stunned. It was a scar but it was the most amazing scar she'd ever seen. "You do realize this makes your wings even more unique." Even more inhuman in their beauty.
The wing lowered. "Are you saying you shot me as a cosmetic procedure?"
She could gauge nothing from the tone of his voice. Wary, she walked to stand beside him-but with several feet of distance between them.
He spoke again before she could, his eyes on her face. "You're hurt."
"Just surface cuts." She showed him her palms. "They hardly even sting."
"You were lucky."
"Yeah." The glass had been thick, less sharp than if she'd broken a dish. "So?"
His eyes shaded in that incredible way, until they were close to black. "Things have changed. There's no more time for play."
"I didn't threaten you, Elena."
She narrowed her eyes. "You were holding me over a very dark, very open space."
His hair lifted off his face as the wind pushed inward. "But you survived. And I just spent a considerable amount of energy patching myself up."
"Sorry." She folded her arms, scowling, defensive. "What's the punishment?"
"Will you take it meekly?" His wings stretched out behind him, spreading to cover the space behind her as well.
"Not a chance," she muttered. "I haven't forgotten what triggered this whole incident."
"It doesn't excite me to take an unwilling woman."
Caught by surprise, she dropped her arms. "Are you saying you didn't do it on purpose?"
"It doesn't matter. What does matter is that you did enough damage that I need to . . . refuel."
A hint of unease crawled up her spine. "What's that supposed to mean? Do you need rest?"
"No. I need an infusion of energy."
"Like a vampire needs blood?"
She frowned. "I didn't know angels needed that sort of thing."
"It happens rarely." Folding back his wings, he came closer. "It takes a lot for the well to run this close to dry."
He was right next to her now and she didn't know how that had happened. No, that was lying to herself. He was close because she'd let him get close. "You scared me last night."
Those dark, dark blue eyes reflected open surprise. "Do I not scare you usually?"
"Not like that." She couldn't help it, she reached out a hand to touch his wing before her neurons shrieked a warning and she wrenched it back. No one touched an angel's wings without permission. "Sorry."
He spread out the "scarred" wing. "Do you need to convince yourself that it's real, not an illusion?"
Not caring that it amused him, she ran her fingers over the part of the wing she'd destroyed. The sensation was . . . "So soft," she murmured, and yet she could feel considerable muscle and strength behind it. The warm vitality of it was a living pulse that beckoned her to continue stroking. When she lifted away her hands, reluctant to stop but knowing she had to, the tips of her fingers glittered. "Angel dust."
"Taste it."
She looked up, vividly conscious of the wings closing around her. "Taste?"
"Why do you think humans pay a fortune for it?"
"I thought it was a status thing-you know, look at my vial of angel dust, it's bigger than yours." She stared at the brilliant sparkles coating the tips of her fingers. "It tastes good?"
"Some call it a drug."
"No, it has no narcotic or other effect on the brain. It's simply the taste."
She met those beautiful, dangerous eyes and knew he could tempt her into hell itself. "Maybe this is your revenge?" Flicking out her tongue, she took a careful taste.
Ambrosia.
A shudder vibrated through her body, her toes curled, and she almost purred. "Wow, orgasm on a stick." And a good orgasm at that. "You go around shedding this stuff?" A tendril of jealousy snaked its way up her body. She crushed it, telling herself she was going to add Big in front of her Idiot tattoo. "Guess it's a power trip to see mortals scrambling for it."
His lips curved. "Oh, this is a special blend for you." Taking one of the fingers she hadn't licked, he rubbed it along her lips. "What we usually shed is apparently comparable to the most delicious of chocolates or the finest of wines. Decadent, rich, and very expensive."
She told herself she wasn't going to lick the glitter off her lips. "And this blend?" The taste was inside her mouth without her having any knowledge of taking it in. And Raphael was incredibly close, his wings creating a white gold wall around them, his hands strong and warm on her hips. "What's so special about it?"
"This blend," he murmured, bending his head, "is about sex."
She put her hands on his chest but it wasn't a protest. After the blood, the fear, she needed to touch him, to know this glorious creature existed. "Another form of mind control?"
He shook his head, his mouth a hairbreadth from hers. "It is only fair."
"Fair?" She flicked her tongue along his lower lip. It made his hands clench on her hips.
"If I licked you between your thighs, your taste would have the same aphrodisiac effect on me."