• • •
Elena landed on the Tower roof late that night, after assisting a fellow hunter with a vamp who’d turned into a squirrelly runner. The small, slippery woman had been fast, weaving in and out through the city with the agility of the acrobat she’d apparently once been. Elena had found herself admiring her—even more so after her response to being caught. “I should’ve never listened to Bill,” the petite runner had muttered in disgust. “Loophole, my ass! And now that very nice ass is toast!”
Wondering how many others Demarco’s accountant target had infected with his “loophole” lunacy, Elena reached out to Raphael. Archangel?
No response.
Frowning because she’d assumed he was at the Tower, she walked inside and to his office to find it empty. Her next stop was Dmitri’s office. The vampire was dressed in black jeans and a black T-shirt today, his hair messy, as if he’d been running his hand through it. There was no doubt that Dmitri was a gorgeous, sexy man. There was also no doubt that he liked blood and pain a little too much.
His relationship with Honor was nothing Elena would’ve ever predicted—because the fact that Dmitri loved his wife was never in question. He saw no one else when Honor was in the room, his dark eyes only for her. Anyone who dared hurt the other hunter would soon find themselves very dead, likely after significant torture.
“Ellie,” he said, curling a tendril of scent around her senses.
Fur and champagne and the promise of agonizing sin.
Tensing her muscles against the impact because she knew damn well he did it only to test her, she gritted her teeth until the first wave passed. “Is that a report on the victims Ashwini’s team found?”
A nod, features grim. “The one named Brooke has the most broken bones and internal injuries, but her chances of survival are nonetheless better than the ones Cornelius fed on.”
“It’s certain, then, that it’s Cornelius?” Elena had kept up with the ongoing situation despite her other duties. The request for assistance from her hunter pal had come in only forty-five minutes before; she’d spent the rest of the day flying across wider New York. Raphael had asked her to take a Legion squadron and visit the well-behaving vampire leaders.
An indication that their control of their people has been noticed, and a reminder that the Tower never stops watching.
Having seen bloodlust in action a number of times as a hunter, the carnage sickening, Elena had no problem with doing what she could to ensure their city didn’t descend into a bloodbath. As it was, the men and women she’d met today had all been on edge. News of Anais’s and Severin’s detainment at the Tower, entwined with the blood-chilling fear of the others who’d come face-to-face with a coldly furious Raphael the previous day, had spread through the community like wildfire.
Elena had reassured the vampire leaders that Raphael had noticed their attention to their duties and that they were in no danger of being called to a meeting with a pissed-off archangel. Her simple presence, the fact that she knew their names, had been enough to drive home Raphael’s second point while simultaneously making the leaders feel appreciated.
Her wing muscles ached from the hours of flight, her body exhausted, but it had been worth it to reinforce the calm of the city. Even the Quarter had been free of any hint of bloodlust when she’d dropped by prior to answering Hilda’s call for an angelic assist. Her Guild colleagues had begun to utilize her in specific incidents where an aerial view would be helpful and it gave Elena a way to keep her hand in, even as she spent more time on Tower business.
Her hunter soul, however, wished she’d been able to help Ash and Janvier also, the ugliness of what they’d discovered enraging her. No one had the right to do that to another living being, to take sick pleasure in the terror of another.
“My gut says it’s Cornelius,” Dmitri answered now, dropping the report on his desk. “It all lines up too well—the way the victims are emaciated, the red and cream feathers, and the fact that Giorgio spent half a century in Lijuan’s court at the beginning of his Contract. That last’s something I’ve just learned.” He put his hands on his hips, raised an eyebrow. “But Janvier and the hunter are chasing this trail. What can I do for you, esteemed consort?”
Her fingers itched for a blade. “Have you seen Raphael?”
“Ah.” He walked closer. “I’m afraid one of your favorite people has come to visit.”
“If you tell me Michaela is here, I’ll have to stab you for being the messenger.” Raphael had personally escorted the other archangel out of his territory prior to the battle, after Michaela pretended to be pregnant to gain their sympathy—or for some other Machiavellian purpose they hadn’t yet worked out.
“Such kinky things you say, Ellie.” A purr of sound, before the scents around her became intoxicating enough to strangle her breath.
“Dmitri, stop baiting Ellie.” Having entered behind Elena, Honor went to poke her husband in the side, a scowl on her face. “What are you doing to her?”
Wrapping an arm around Honor’s shoulders, Dmitri held her close. “Keeping her strong.” His eyes watched Elena, unblinking as a predator’s. “Her scent susceptibility is a weakness others haven’t yet learned to exploit, but they will.”
Elena wished she could disagree, but, bastard though he was, Dmitri was right. Forcing air into her lungs, she said, “Spit it out. Who’s here?”