"Then I guess we hope that he - or she," she added, remembering Anoushka, "continues to strike out at his own people." She stared at the fountain. "At least they'll die a cleaner death than if we catch them."
The scent of the wind, clean and harsh.I'd say you were losing your innocence, but your nightmares tell me you lost that a long time ago.
Yes, she admitted, giving him a glimpse of the most secret corner of her heart.There was so much blood that day. I could see it on my skin even at the funeral.
Chapter 19
The next day brought an unwelcome surprise. With the scent trail having grown cold, and Raphael's people working the other facets of the hunt, she'd returned to getting her body back in fighting shape - the angel who'd already harmed two of Raphael's own wouldn't find her the easy target he seemed to assume she was. She had every intention of thrusting a Guild dagger right between his ribs when he came after her.
Unfortunately, she'd forgotten that Dmitri had returned to the Tower.
"You'll be dead two seconds after you run out of bullets if that's your sole means of defense." Galen swallowed up her gun in his hand, his pale green gaze about as friendly as your local grizzly bear's. "Secondary weapon?"
"Knives." She'd never admit it in a million years, but she was already starting to miss Dmitri's wicked brand of humor.
"If you're going to be using knives," Galen said as she entered the training ring, a simple circle of beaten earth in front of a large wooden structure without windows, "then you need to learn to draw them without nicking your wings." He picked up what looked like a rapier from the table, though the guard was far simpler than the intricate ones she'd seen in another hunter's collection. Handing it to her, he said, "I need to see what you've got."
"I said knives," she told him, dropping her wrist as she tested the weight of the blade.
"This is much longer than anything I've used."
"Knives take you too close to the target." He was suddenly in her face, a short, lethally sharp blade nicking her throat, her br**sts crushed against the male heat of his bare chest.
"And you aren't fast enough to win against another angel."
She hissed out a breath but didn't back off. "I could still gut you."
"Not as fast as I could cut your throat. But that isn't the point of this exercise."
Feeling blood begin to trickle down her throat, she shut out the anger and ran through her options with cold-blooded focus. Her sword hand was effectively useless - he was too close. Given the lack of leverage, her other hand wouldn't do much damage, either.
Except angelic wings were extremely sensitive.
Grabbing his wing with her free hand, she brought up the sword with the other. Galen danced out of reach, the knife disappearing so fast she barely caught the movement.
"Wings," she said, realizing the bastard had taught her something critically important,
"give me an advantage in terms of surprising an opponent, but get too close and they become a weakness."
"At this stage, yes." Galen swiveled the rapier he'd picked up. The slender dueling sword looked far too delicate for his big hand. She'd bet her newfound fortune that his personal weapon of choice was something closer to a broadsword. Heavy, solid, effective.
"Guess I'll be using the crossbow to chip vamps from now on," she said, thinking wistfully of the necklets that had been her favorite method of immobilizing her targets.
Embedded with a chip that neutralized a vampire by temporarily rewiring the brain, the special weapons were a hunter's sole advantage against stronger, faster opponents. She'd debated getting some very illegal copies for personal use now that she was surrounded by vamps, but had realized all too quickly that the first time she used one, she'd not only create a shit storm that might bury the Guild, she'd cost Raphael the loyalty of the vampires under his command. The chips were closely regulated for a reason - vampires didn't want to spend their lives looking over their shoulders.
Elena understood exactly how they felt - it was a bitch to lose control over your body, to become a puppet. And the fact of the matter was that most of the ones around her these days were too strong to be affected by the chips. That was a secret she'd take to her grave. Because sometimes, all a hunter had was the element of surprise, of the vampire'sbelief that he'd been neutralized.
"You plan to return to your position within the Guild?" Galen's tone was the embodiment of disapproval.
"What else am I going to do? Sit around looking pretty?"
"You're a liability." Cool, hard words. "Out in the field, you'd be a sitting duck for anyone wanting to get to Raphael by taking you hostage."
"That's why I'm out here adding to my bruises." She would not back down. "Raphael doesn't want a princess. He wants a warrior."
My lovers have always been warrior women.
Her archangel had said that to her. And now that they'd set the boundaries, he was using her skills, her talents. She wasn't about to let a grim-faced martinet change the very bedrock of their relationship.
"He almost died because of you." A slash of the blade, so close that she reacted instinctively to block the blow.
Twisting away, she raised her rapier. "He chose to fall with me."
"Sometimes, even an archangel makes mistakes." A blur of movement.
But she'd read his feet, was already sliding out of reach. When she turned, it was to see several strands of her hair lying on the beaten earth of the ring, sliced clean through by Galen's blade. He might have looked like a bruiser, but he couldmove . "I guess the gloves are off."
"If they were, you'd be dead." Snapping back to a waiting stance, he glanced critically at her hand. "You need to change your grip. The way you're holding it now, I could break your wrist with a single hit."
"Show me."
He did, adding, "The rapier is, at heart, a thrusting weapon. Use it."
The rest of the morning passed in an increasingly grueling manner.
Three hours later, she was dripping sweat, and they'd drawn a crowd of curious onlookers. Galen didn't let up, ordering her into another sparring session. She could feel her wings dragging, her leg muscles quivering.
Bastard.Refusing to let him drive her into the ground, she avoided his blows with deliberately sluggish movements . . . until he dropped his guard for the barest fraction of an instant. Then she lunged. The rapier hit his shoulder, sinking in several inches.
Red dripped down the tanned skin of his chest.
A horrified gasp from the onlookers. But Galen just wrenched his body away from the blade, lowered his own weapon, and held out his hand for hers. "Good. You should've done that an hour ago."