She waved Naasir off only hours later, then turned to her archangel. “Any news?”
A grim shake of his head before he took a hard kiss, then rejoined a squadron training exercise. He was putting all his spare time into helping their people become stronger, more prepared for whatever was about to hit. Elena, for her part, was sparring against strong vampires and angels every day—Raphael included—as well as picking up local hunts. It was good to get out, test her body in the real world, add another layer of strength. She needed to be ready to stand beside her archangel when the eye passed.
A week after Naasir’s visit, and she’d just completed her third successful retrieval.
Having delivered the runaway vamp to his angel, Urizen, she now stood on top of the seven-story building owned by the angel and smiled. Around her was a garden starting to hunker down for winter, but with enough color in it still that she’d spotted the vines and tree branches from the sidewalk.
Urizen had been delighted at her interest, had shared that he personally took care of the space. “Please go up. I’ll join you after I’ve dealt with Ox.”
“Is that really his name?”
“Worse. He chose it.” The short and stocky angel with wings of off-white brushed with streaks of sunset orange had thrown up his hands. “Now he tries to run only ten years into his Contract, as if he did not walk into vampirism with his eyes open.” Exasperation altered into cool resolve, the cream of his complexion suddenly without warmth. “I do not enjoy punishing my vampires. The garden will be a welcome balm in the aftermath.”
Before walking into the immortal world, Elena hadn’t understood that not all angels were cruel and heartless. Many were like Urizen, forced into cruelty to rein in vampires who would otherwise splatter the world in scarlet. Because while Ox was no genius, he was viciously strong, had come at Elena with teeth bared and hands clawed.
Vamp was on the edge of bloodlust.
Jaw tight because there was a chance Urizen wouldn’t be able to haul him back, leading to an automatic execution order, she turned her attention to the garden. A few hardy plants hung on to their fall foliage, the yellows, reds, and oranges brilliant against the azure of the cloudless sky.
No angels flew in that sky. Anyone not on sentry duty was probably watching the winged game of baseball Illium’s squadron had put together, with Illium as referee. He only ever played if Aodhan was also playing.
She was about to run her fingers along the trunk of a five-foot-tall tree with leaves of dark red fading into deep brown when she remembered she had to think “don’t grow” thoughts while doing so. It had been three weeks since she’d last accidentally supercharged a tree, but since this was on a roof, she decided not to risk it. Instead, she admired it from afar, picked a couple of weeds out of a patch of hardy winter-greens, and tried to narrow down a fresh gingery scent that lingered in the air.
She’d just worked out that the source was a small groundcover plant when a movement from the taller building to the right caught her eye. It proved to be a flutter of color situated a couple of stories higher than her current position; her first thought was that someone was about to lose a towel they’d hung over the railing to dry.
Then her brain put all the pieces together.
Elena began to run, her heart pulsating in her mouth. She knew her voice couldn’t travel that far, but she yelled out a desperate warning to whoever was looking after the toddler who’d managed to climb over the balcony railing and was now clinging to it by his fingertips while his legs kicked helplessly in the air. He had to be screaming, but no one ran out of the apartment to rescue him.
No angels in the sky. Urizen deep inside his home. No one on a nearby balcony who could scramble to get to the child. Raphael was fast, but she had no idea of his current location and the kid had a matter of seconds at best.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
She touched her mind to Raphael’s anyway, because if this all went how she thought it would, both she and the little boy would need healing. Serious healing.
Raphael! Urizen’s place!
No more time.
She couldn’t fly. But her bones had been pronounced immortal-strong. And seven stories was survivable for an immortal of three hundred if she fell correctly and made sure her head didn’t get separated from her neck. Decapitation would be a serious bummer to her desire to spend eternity with Raphael.
All these thoughts and more passed through her mind in the second it took her to cross half the length of the roof. The rest of the time, she spent calculating her odds. The distance between the two buildings wasn’t huge. If she jumped at the right moment and aimed her body weight perfectly, she could put herself in the correct position to catch the little guy before he fell. Curl her body over and around him and her stronger bones would take the impact of the fall.
One of the toddler’s hands slipped off the railing.
He was going to fall at any second.
Elena’s foot hit the edge of the roof and she launched herself into the air, her eyes never leaving the child.
He lost his final grip just as a frantic female face appeared at the balcony. Her terror shattered the quiet, but Elena barely heard it, her body flying through the air. Angles, weight, position, her hunter’s mind worked it all out with ruthless efficiency . . . and a small, screaming weight fell into her arms, the momentum of the catch sending her tumbling.
Fuck, this was going to hurt. Bad.
She tucked herself around the little boy’s petrified body as the air rushed past them at terminal speed.
24
Raphael! Urizen’s place!
Raphael switched direction without hesitation, pulling such a tight turn that his wing muscles protested before they blazed into white fire and he was moving at speeds that turned the world into a barely visible blur.
That hadn’t been terror in Elena’s voice. It had been determination coupled with a sense of desperation. He wasn’t far from her but the journey there felt like an eternity. He arrived over Urizen’s building . . . just in time to see Elena catch a falling child in her arms and begin to spiral down to the ground.
Raphael flew toward her at lightning speed, but he knew he wasn’t going to make it. The child’s weight and momentum were causing her to drop at a catastrophic rate and she hadn’t begun very far from the ground. She was going to smash herself into pieces. But, tightly curled as she was around the child, she might save that small life. Raphael knew the choice she’d tell him to make if he had to choose between saving her and saving the child.
The child. Always the child.
He went to try and cut under her, catch her and the child both, though he knew the attempt was futile. Even wings of white fire couldn’t eliminate the space between two objects. His heart screamed. Elena!
A sudden explosion of light above him . . . and no bloody bodies on the street. Low as he’d flown, he had to land or smash into a wall. When he looked up, what he saw had him launching into the air once more. Elena stared at him in silence. Even the screaming child had gone silent, shocked by the sudden halt.
“Raphael.” It was a whisper. “Am I levitating? Just to clarify, I’m fine with levitating rather than being hunter-flavored mincemeat.” She looked down. “Phew. Even if I stop levitating now, this baby will be fine and worst I’ll get is a turned ankle.”
“Land.” His voice came out hoarse. “Land, Elena.”
“Land?” A furrowed brow, a taut voice. “Archangel, I haven’t exactly figured out the levitating thing yet.”