Archangel's Legion (Guild Hunter #6)(32)

They sat in comfortable silence for several minutes, their eyes on the stars above, the sky holding the sharp clarity of the coldest of nights, their breath frosting the air. When they did talk, they meandered from topic to topic, their friendship old enough that they could skip from their worry about the predicted archangelic hostilities to a discussion on Sara’s side-swept bangs to bursting out laughing when they both muttered, “Men,” at the same time.

Then Sara, having curled up against the arm of the sofa, poked at Elena’s thigh with a sock-clad foot. “Stop it.”

Startled by the burst of inexplicable anger, Elena stared. “What?”

“Stop thinking about what’ll happen when I’m gone.” It was an arrow to the heart. “You ever think about the fact that maybe I’ll have to watch you die?”

“I’m becoming immor—”

Her friend snorted. “Since when has the immortal world been a happy-happy-let’s-hold-hands-and-sing-‘Kumbaya’ kind of a place, huh? Weren’t we just discussing a war, genius?”

Mouth dropping open, Elena blinked and realized Sara was right. Her life was no less dangerous now than it had been during her time as a hunter. In fact, it could be argued she swam in far deadlier waters as Raphael’s consort. “Well, damn.”

“Exactly. So don’t let me see that look in your eyes again.” Sara clicked her mug to Elena’s. “You know what I’ve learned from my baby girl? To enjoy the now. It’ll be gone soon enough, and no one knows what the next hour, much less tomorrow, will bring.”

Elena decided she should engrave those words on her brain, saying as much to Raphael two hours later as they lay skin to skin in their Enclave bedroom. He’d come to her with a grim look in his eyes and battle plans on his mind, his touch so tender, tears had wet her cheeks. “That was a pretty wonderful now,” she whispered afterward.

“Yes.” A deep masculine murmur.

Her head on his chest, she soaked in his warmth, knowing they were lucky to have these hours together, possible only because of his trust in his Seven. Word had come from Jason that the other members of the Cadre were currently confirmed as being in their territories, which gave New York some breathing room.

“I visited the injured,” she said, knowing the respite was a temporary one—like Raphael, she didn’t believe in coincidences, especially a coincidence that brought death to angels and vampires alike. “I managed to speak to everyone who was conscious.”

“I know.” His hand fisted in her hair. “You acted as a consort should, despite the cost. I’m proud of you, hbeebti.”

Chest tight at the simple acknowledgment, she ran her foot over his shin. “I also seem to have acquired the start of a Guard.”

“Oh? Who have you chosen?”

“Izzy,” she said, and told him how it had happened.

Raphael laughed. “I will, of course, have to throw the boy into training with the toughest men in my employ as soon as he has recovered. He may regret volunteering.”

“I don’t actually expect him to do for me what the Seven do for you.”

“Would you dent his pride?”

Elena sighed, having the sinking feeling she’d inadvertently ended up with a real Guard. “How was I supposed to say no to someone that adorable?” She lifted her head to scowl at her lover. “It’d have been like kicking a puppy then stomping on his heart.”

Raphael folded one arm behind his head, his biceps flexing. “He’s not as much a babe as you believe.”

“No?” Leaning in, she grazed her teeth over the firm muscle.

His fingers curved over her bare breast in return, neither one of them in any hurry. “Izak’s been in training with Galen since he was younger than Sam.”

Galen with babies? “Impossible,” she said, even as she recalled Hannah pointing out the opposite in the painting downstairs. “Galen eating babies I can understand, but training them?”

Open amusement. “I think you miss our weapons-master.”

“Ha-ha.”

That got her a long, lazy kiss, their tongues licking against each other, his thigh pushing possessively between her own. “When Galen was first courting Jessamy,” Raphael said with a brush of his thumb over her nipple when their lips parted, “he began to teach flight skills to the little ones. Over time, it has become a tradition—Galen is always the one who gives basic flight instruction to the babes, and some, like Izak, never stop training with him.”

The idea of Galen, with his wings akin to a northern harrier’s, leading a squadron of babies—not all of whom could fly exactly straight—had Elena shaking her head. “I’m sorry, I need to see to believe this. It’s like you just told me the sky turns purple every Wednesday.”

Sensual laughter twining around her, Raphael’s mood no longer black. “For his age, Izak is exceptional. In comparison to older fighters, he has much to learn, part of the reason Galen organized a Tower placement.”

“So he could study under more experienced men.” It was similar to what the Guild did, pairing up a neophyte hunter with an experienced one for the first year after graduation.

Raphael nodded. “Izak may be comparatively weak at present, but he’ll grow with you and so will the bond between you.” His eyes closed when she reached out to stroke the most sensitive part of his right wing, her damp flesh rubbing against the hard muscle of his thigh. “Aodhan was a stripling, Illium even younger, when I accepted them into what became my Seven.”