Archangel's Prophecy (Guild Hunter #11)(60)

“It is,” Andreas said solemnly. “When you live hundreds upon hundreds of years, anything different and unique is a treasure to be cherished.” His disturbingly penetrating eyes lingered on her. “Had I met you before Raphael, I would’ve seen only a mortal and dismissed you as that—and that would’ve been my loss.”

“You did see me,” Elena said, and had the pleasure of watching him start. “Back when I was a wet-behind-the-ears hunter-trainee, my mentor and I retrieved a vampire for you.”

“And so,” Andreas murmured, “I could’ve been the one who won a woman so unique that she charms beings old beyond time.”

“Nope. You aren’t Raphael.”

He stared at her for a long second before smiling again, wide and deep and intensely real. “I feel my loss more keenly now, for you are a woman who loves true. Such is . . . rare across time.”

Unsettled by how human the cruel angel was acting today, Elena nearly sighed in relief when a stunning woman appeared around the corner of the pathway. Dressed in a charcoal-gray pantsuit that looked bespoke and with her bronze-threaded black hair intricately braided then wrapped into a bun at her nape, she didn’t seem a woman who would fit in with Andreas’s old-world viewpoint.

The impression of cutting-edge modernity was further solidified by the miniature tablet she held in her hand.

“Nara. You have the file?”

“Yes, sire.” She held the tablet out to Elena, her skin a tawny brown that bore a slight winter pallor. That or Nara hadn’t yet fed. Andreas’s keeper of records was an old vampire who smelled of thick honey and ice crunched under the teeth.

“I’ve pulled up the information for you, Consort,” she said.

“Thank you.” Accepting the tablet, Elena was aware of Andreas dismissing Nara.

“Terence Lee and Nishant Kumar,” she read out. “Nara’s highlighted their names on this note about Harrison’s lack of delivery on a project.”

“Yes, the memories come back to me.” Andreas spread then folded his wings back in, being careful not to brush them against hers. “The trio of fools.” Returning his arms to behind his back, he said, “I made it clear to Harrison at the time that he was on his final chance—and I used the cruelty of which you accuse me. He has not failed me since.”

Elena didn’t ask him what he’d done to Harrison; she had to be able to look her brother-in-law in the eye and not see him screaming as chunks of flesh were dug out of him, or as his skin was marked with red-hot brands that would take years to fade. She read the report through a second time, but there wasn’t much else, just the one note that Harrison’s friends were likely responsible for his lack of attention to the task.

“These two,” Elena said. “They’re post-Contract?”

“Almost certainly if Nara has not noted the name of their supervising angel.”

Realizing they’d reached the front of the house, Elena handed him the tablet with a word of thanks. He looked down at the device and said, “I am not like Imani, who eschews change, but I wonder at this age we live in where information must always be at the fingertips. Why does no one value patience?”

“Human lives are shorter,” she reminded him quietly. “A mortal life must be lived in fast-forward.”

Andreas held her gaze before inclining his head with warrior grace. “I think, Consort, you will teach me more than I care to know.”

Not sure quite how to take that, Elena asked if it would be possible for her to speak to his staff. “They might know more about Harrison’s friends.” Plenty went on in an angel’s household that was never brought to the attention of said angel; a good housekeeper or butler took pride in running a smooth household that caused only a modicum of disruption in their angel’s life.

“My home is open to you,” Andreas said.

Nara was waiting for them by the front door. After giving her the tablet, Andreas told his record keeper to cooperate with Elena and to inform the other staff to do so as well. “I will take my leave,” he said to Elena. “Illium and I are to meet for a drill.”

“Thanks for the help.”

“It was a most agreeable walk,” he replied before heading into the house, his wings held with automatic warrior control.

Elena did an unobtrusive check on the status of her own wings.

So far, so good.

Stomach tight and that vein on her temple throbbing in odd bursts, she forced her attention back to her task—and to Andreas’s seriously old record keeper. Nara’s power was a slow-motion punch against Elena’s skin. If all she did for Andreas was keep records, then Elena would eat her own foot. With hot sauce.

“I’m looking for information on Harrison Ling,” she said. “Any friends he might have, interests that could’ve brought him the wrong kind of attention, that type of thing.”

“I’m afraid I will be of no help, Consort.” A furrow in Nara’s otherwise smooth brow, tiny lines flaring out at the corners of her feline eyes. “I deal near-exclusively with senior members of staff.”

Elena had figured as much; half the household was probably as terrified of Nara as they were of Andreas. “Point me in the direction of the younger staff—no need for an escort.” Elena might be Raphael’s consort, but she was also a former mortal; she’d be more likely to get the truth without Nara around.