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Archangel's Shadows

Page 119

The young angel grinned this time. He truly was adorable. It was going to be difficult for her to treat him as a warrior, but she figured she’d just handle him as a hunter in training until he grew up a little more. “I smuggled in something else for you.” Glancing around to make sure the healers weren’t paying any attention to them, she took out a small bottle from the ankle sheath that usually held a gun.

Opening it, she slid in a straw she’d concealed down the side of a knife sheath and held the drink to his lips. “Sip,” she ordered before he could take a long draw. “It’s Illium’s secret recipe and it’s lethal.”

Eyes brightening, he took a drink and went, “Whoa.”

“Yeah, that’s what I said. Lots of angels drinking and flying today—I hope none of them fall into the Hudson.”

Izak laughed. “Alcohol wears off very fast in angelic bodies. I don’t think it has any effect on angels as old as Aodhan and Illium.”

“No wonder he makes it so strong.” She cut Izak off when he became a touch too smiley. “Let’s wait for it to wear off on you before you have the rest.” Baby that he was, half a bottle was clearly plenty for Izzy.

“Janvier told me Titus is here.”

Elena leaned in close. “You didn’t hear it from me,” she whispered, “but last I saw, Titus was carousing in the street, kissing a different willing woman every five minutes.” More than one human was going to wake up the next day with a surreal memory she’d probably put down to too many shots. “And—Hmm, I’m not sure I should be saying this to such tender ears . . .”

“What?” His eyes went huge. “I want to know.”

Far too adorable. It was ridiculous. “Well,” she said in a conspiratorial tone, “I’m pretty sure there are shenanigans going on high in the sky tonight.” Anyone who had a telescope pointed up toward the stars might just get an eyeful.

“People are dancing?” A small pout. “I want to be outside.”

Shoulders shaking, because he was clearly still feeling the effects of Illium’s concoction, she patted his face. “You’ll have plenty of opportunities to seduce and be seduced, Izzy.”

“Can I have more cake?”

She fed the remaining half to him. His eyes were starting to flutter shut by the end, and when she rose to her feet, he was in a peaceful sleep. Pressing a kiss to his cheek, she glanced at the doorway to see Keir exchanging an intimate look with a heavily muscled male warrior. The warrior angel’s hand was curved around the side of Keir’s neck, his head bent toward Keir’s shorter and more slender form. Whatever he said made the healer laugh before he slipped out of the warrior’s hold and into the infirmary.

Seeing Elena, he came over. “You look puzzled, Ellie.”

“I am. Last time I saw you with anyone”—back in the Refuge—“it was a woman.” And he, without a doubt, had stubble burn on the dusky skin of his throat right now. Which meant he’d been getting frisky only seconds before she saw him; Keir was too old for the mark not to have faded otherwise.

Smile gentle, he said, “I have been alive thousands of years, have learned that love does not always wear a single face.” A warmth in his eyes. “Ah, but it will for you, will it not?”

“Yes.” Raphael was her heart, would always be her heart. “So, you’re a player?” She sighed. “All this time, I thought you were a nice guy. I introduced you to my single friends, like that sweet squadron leader.”

His laugh soft, he allowed his wing to brush hers. “If I could find what you have with Raphael, I would stop playing. Until then, I will share pleasure with smaller loves—perhaps even your rather lovely squadron leader.” Reaching down to tug a blanket over Izzy, he said, “The boy is doing well. I think he is even more in love with you, however.”

“A little cake and punch and everybody loves me.” Leaving him with a kiss on his cheek, she went to talk to an angel who was down with severed legs, but was able to sit up on her own. She had a drink in her hand and a plate of goodies on the table next to her. “This celebration was a wonderful idea, Ellie.”

Before the battle, none of the squadron but Izak had called her Ellie. It was a welcome change. “How are the legs?” she said, able to ask as she could a fellow hunter.

“It hurts, but the injuries are healing faster than anticipated.” The woman’s dark eyes went to where Raphael was speaking with two other wounded fighters, one an angel, the other a vampire. “The sire is responsible for that.”

Elena didn’t nod, didn’t need to. Raphael’s ability to heal remained nascent, but it was shaving days, sometimes weeks off the recovery time of the injured. According to Keir, what Raphael was doing wasn’t healing as he knew it. Keir’s current theory was that Raphael was sharing power.

Lijuan, Elena thought, shared death. Raphael shared life.

His eyes met hers across the width of the room at that instant, and she saw pride burning in his gaze, the same pride that filled her veins. For their people, who had survived the unimaginable with their spirits intact; for their city, that had stood strong against an unprovoked attack. There was no need for either of them to articulate that. They saw and understood each other in a way few people ever did, mortal or immortal.

For her, love would only ever have a single face, and it was his.

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