dark as Raphael's. "Caliane," she read. "Archangel of Sumeria."

A shooting pain down her neck, and she knew it was time to drop the shield. She'd held it far longer than she'd been able to as a mortal, but not long enough - so she'd have to save it for those secrets she couldn't bear to expose to the world, couldn't even bear to expose to herself.

The scent of wind, of the rain, didn't immediately reappear. But another scent did.

A sensual exotic musk layered with the delicate touch of the rarest of orchids.

It wasn't in her head, she realized at almost the same instant. It was in the air.

Adrenaline spiking, she dropped the book and rose to her feet as Michaela landed in front of her. The visual impact was stunning. Much as Elena disliked her, there was no escaping the truth. Michaela's wings were a gorgeous bronze, her body a landscape of curves and hollows balanced to perfection. And her face . . . there wasn't another as striking in the world.

"So" - lush lips shaping into a smile that made Elena very happy she had her gun with her - "I've unearthed the little mouse Raphael has been hiding." The archangel stepped into the pavilion, her wings caressed to amber by the rays of a sun just beginning to set.

She was dressed in sleek camel-colored pants today, her "top" consisting of a single strip of soft white fabric that had been wound around her neck to create a halter before being crisscrossed over her br**sts to tie in a knot below her wings. Clean, sexy, inviting.

Elena knew exactly who the invitation was aimed at. Her fingers curled into her palms, common sense crashing and burning in the face of the possessive anger that gripped her by the throat. "I didn't know you found me that fascinating."

Michaela's eyes narrowed. "You're an angel now, hunter. And I'm your superior."

"I don't think so."

The archangel glanced at the book. "That's the company you should be keeping. The half-angel is more your status."

To hear Jessamy - wise, kind, intelligent - described in such a denigrating way made Elena see red. "She's ten times the woman you'll ever be."

Michaela flicked a hand, as if the idea was so ridiculous, it didn't even bear consideration. "She's three thousand years old, and she spends her days shut up with dusty tomes no one but a cripple would consider enticing."

"Galen apparently finds her far more than enticing." It was a shot in the dark.

But it hit home. "Galen's a pup who hasn't yet learned to choose his enemies."

"He didn't want you, either?" Elena said, and even she knew it was a provocation. "But of course, he must've taken his cue from his sire." The breath slammed out of her as she flew through the air to smash up against the marble column on the other side of the pavilion. It hurt like hell, but nothing seemed broken.

That was when it hit her. The cold fist of fear. "Where's Illium?"

"Otherwise engaged." A mocking smile as the archangel walked closer, her every move inherently sensual. "You're bleeding, hunter. How very clumsy of me."

Elena tasted iron from the cut on her lip, but her eyes stayed locked on Michaela. She was well aware the bitch was playing with her, that she'd come here for that specific reason. "If you've harmed him, Raphael will hunt you down."

"And if I harm you?"

"I'llhunt you down." Kicking out, she slammed her right foot against Michaela's knee.

To her shock, the archangel went down. But it was, Elena thought, more surprise than anything else, because she was up again a second later, her eyes glowing from within. "I think," the archangel said in a tone that reminded Elena eerily of Uram's sadistic brand of evil, "I'm willing to find out what Raphael will do to someone who dares hurt his little pet."

Elena pressed the trigger on the gun she'd managed to draw the instant after Michaela fell. Nothing happened. Then her fingers unclasped, digit by stiff digit, to drop the weapon to the marble. She felt something hit her chest at the same instant, but when she looked down, there was nothing there. Her heart began to thump in panic. An instant later, it felt as if bone-thin fingers - hard, tipped with nails filed to malicious points -

were closing around that panicked organ, squeezing until blood filled her mouth, dripped down her chin.

Michaela looked almost amused. "Good-bye, hunter."

Elena saw a flash of blue to her right, glimpsed Illium surrounded by wings, covered in blood. Feeling returned to her fingers at the same instant. "Bitch." It was a soundless whisper meant to distract as her hand closed on the knife hidden in the side pocket of her pants. Gripping it with all the stubborn determination she had in her, she ignored the pain, ignored the blood welling up in her mouth, and threw.

Michaela shrieked, her hand dropping to the side as the blade embedded itself in her eye.

A white-hot fire scorched the pavilion in the next breath, but it was Michaela who ended up smashed unconscious against the back column, not Elena. Trying to see through eyes that watered against the haze of power, Elena glimpsed Raphael, his hands ringed with the deadly glow of angelfire.

She spit out the blood. "No." A croak no one would be able to hear.Raphael, no, she's not worth it. He'd killed Uram because it had had to be done, but it had taken something from him to end the life of another archangel. She'd felt the scar, though how, she couldn't say.I provoked her.

It doesn't matter. She came here to kill you.He raised his hand, the blue flames licking up his arms, and she knew Michaela was going to die. Sliding to the ground as her legs went out from beneath her, she said something she'd never said to any other man.I need you.

Raphael's head snapped to her, his eyes alien in their luminescence. Time froze. And then he was kneeling by her side, the blue fire sucked back inside his body in a violent backdraft. "Elena." He touched her cheek, and she felt an odd warmth invade her body, touch her bruised heart. An instant later, the beat smoothed out.

Raising arms that trembled in reaction, she drew him to her, holding his head as she whispered in his ear. "Don't let her turn you into what she is. Don't let her win."

"She came to harm that which is mine. I can't let that go unpunished."

Possession was a wall of black flame in his eyes, but she knew it was about more than that. "It's about power, right?"

A nod that sent midnight silk sliding over her hands, her archangel willing to listen to reason. For now.

"She's out, unconscious, with my blade in her eye. Leave her somewhere where everyone can see that."

"That's bloodthirsty of you." Lips against hers, his rage held in check. "The humiliation will be worse than any physical torment."




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