Archangel's Shadows (Guild Hunter 7)

Stretching against him, she made a sound in the back of her throat. He imagined it was his name, knew he was fooling himself. But then she turned to nuzzle his throat. “I knew it was you, cher.” A sleepy, drowsy statement.

Janvier wanted to smile, to tease her in delight about his name being the first word on her lips, but he couldn’t stop the convulsive shudder that shook his body, his arms locking around her.

“Shh.” Wiggling until she could get both arms around his neck, Ash held him to her in a bruising grip that still wasn’t tight enough for him. “I’m sorry,” she said, rubbing her cheek against the roughness of his. “I didn’t know that was going to happen.”

He couldn’t speak, the hand that had been choking him for the past ten excruciating hours slow to release its punishing grasp.

Ash continued to murmur apologies, pressing soft, unexpected kisses along his temple and jaw. “Mujhe maaf kardo na, cher.”

The private, intimate intermixing of language, it broke through the icy fear, made the choke hold ease, his breath no longer jagged rocks in his lungs. Shifting to brace himself on one forearm, he thrust a hand into her hair. “What did I tell you about apologies?”

He’d never forget those ten endless hours, but neither would he forget her dazzling, sinful smile as she said, “I’m not sleepy anymore.”

Naked joy in his blood, he hauled her up over him, her unbound hair creating a curtain of black silk around their faces as they drank one another in. “Where did you come from?” Ash whispered in the hushed space. “I wasn’t looking for you.”

“Are you planning to throw me back?”

“Never.”

The single empathetic word was better than any flowery declaration of love.

Coming down, she rested her head on his heart, not disputing his right to run his fingers through her hair. “I can’t remember what I said in the hospital. Did I tell you about the peanuts?”

“You tried to say something, but you didn’t complete your sentence.”

“Damn.” She jerked up into a sitting position. “Lilli told m—” A pause, her voice ragged and her hands fisted to bloodless tightness as she said, “That was her name. Lilli Ying.”

“I won’t forget.” He couldn’t take the agony of her gift from her, but he could help her carry the names of the lost. “What did Lilli say?”

“That she could smell peanuts during her captivity and that the space where she was held was a large one.”

Squelching his need to continue to hold her, Janvier grabbed his phone. “I’ll get the computer teams on to creating a list of possible locations.”

“Good.” She thrust her fingers through her hair, pushing it back from her face. “I’ll update Sara, then I’m going to shower.”

He watched her swing out of bed, sway on her feet. He was beside her with vampiric speed, but she held out a hand. “Give me a sec.”

Stretching carefully, she said, “I’m a little light-headed, but I’ve felt like this before. Lots of liquids, a bit of protein, and I’ll be fine.” Clouds darkened her expression. “It’s Felicity who needs our help. Lilli’s gone, but I don’t think Felicity is.” She rubbed a fist over her heart, her eyes pools of shadow that saw into another realm. “We need to give her justice, give her peace.”

•   •   •

It took Janvier a few short minutes to shower and change into fresh clothes after they arrived at his Tower apartment. Deciding to wait for him since there’d been no word from the computer teams yet, Ashwini took in the breathtaking view of the city through the floor-to-ceiling span of his living room windows.

Wonder unfurled in her when she caught sight of an angel gliding down inches from the windows, his wings spread to their full breadth. Those wings were so bright as to hurt the eye, diamond dust sprinkled on every filament.

Aodhan.

No matter how much darkness she saw in the immortal world, there was no doubting the splendor of angelic flight—the angels’ physical beauty was less intriguing to her than their skill and grace in the air. Aodhan angled out of sight the same instant Janvier stepped out of his bedroom, hair damp and jaw shaved. Both their phones vibrated right then, the computer teams having compiled a preliminary list.

Taking a bottle of blood from his fridge, Janvier led her down to the Tower’s dedicated tech floor.

“Why are you drinking budget blood?” she asked with a laugh after seeing the label: Blood-for-Less.

He shot her a minatory look. “You know why.”

“Sucking up to the boss’s consort?” Ashwini set her face into lines of mock disappointment. “I thought better of you.”

“Very funny. I’m being supportive.” Scowling, he drank half the bottle. “None of us want Elena’s first business venture to go down in flames. And anyway,” he said a little defensively, “this is a bottle of their premium line.”

“Right.” Delighted at the idea of all these tough Tower vamps throwing their weight behind a fledgling blood café, she rose up on her toes and pressed her lips to his jaw. His devastating smile was her reward . . . and if it lit the candle of guilt inside her, she snuffed it out just as quickly.

Full throttle. That was the promise they’d made to each other, and it was a promise she would keep. To live for today, for him, and not always in anticipation of the awful mental degeneration that awaited in her future.

They walked into tech central seconds later. The Guild techs were already patched in, the two teams having been working together to create the list of locations. Illium and Dmitri were both at a big glass table in the center and waved them over. “I’ve spoken to the Guild Director,” Dmitri said when they reached the table. “She’s putting together teams that will assist ours in clearing the possible locations.”

“We have ten so far.” Illium pointed out the Xs on the map on the table. “Six of them are peripheral—either because the scent would’ve faded long ago or because of their distance from the city. Places like boarded-up movie theaters and old factories.”

“If you’re right about the perpetrator being arrogant and smug,” Janvier said to Ashwini, “and I think you are, then he would want a place he could control. His castle.”

“Something appropriate to his wealth and image of himself.” Ashwini couldn’t see him being satisfied with a musty old theater or a factory unless he’d upgraded it inside. “Any sign the six were renovated anytime in the past five years?” she asked, knowing they had to cast a wide net—there was no knowing how long the bastard had been doing this. Even five years could be too small a window, but they had to start somewhere.