Archangel's Heart(131)

Sahar went white under the pale brown of her skin. “Family I have,” she said. “Baby son. Husband.”

“No one will hurt them,” Elena promised, her skin hot with an anger that kept growing bigger. “Please answer my question.”

Josette murmured encouragement until, finally, the other woman nodded. “They come always,” she whispered. “No go, they hurt family.” She swallowed. “If go, don’t scream, maybe come home.”

“Maybe?”

A ragged nod. “Not always. My cousin . . . my neighbor . . . never come home.”

The slowly dawning fear in Josette’s eyes turned darkly potent. “Will you help us?” she asked, a tremor in her tone.

“Yes.” Elena looked at the Frenchwoman. “Explain to her about Raphael.”

Leaving the two alone in the room, Josette murmuring to Sahar, she went to Raphael, told him what she’d found. The ice in his eyes was so cold it frosted the air.

“We need to go deeper into this level, find the ‘he’ Gervais was talking about,” she said, “but I’m not leaving them here.”

“I think, Consort, we must rely on our friends.”

Realizing what he planned to do, Elena went to Josette. “Get dressed,” she said. “You’ll have to travel through the hallways to a safe room.”

Josette didn’t delay, Sahar going with her.

It was only a few minutes later that Raphael went back down the corridor and to the paving stones, asking the women to follow. When he told them to come close enough for him to hold them around the waist, they hesitated until Elena said, “Go. He’s taking you to freedom.”

It was a powerful motivator.

Eyes of mountain sky blue met hers just before Raphael took off, the women clinging to him. Do not get hurt while I’m gone.

I’ll stay right here. No matter her furious desire to discover the truth, she wasn’t going to be stupid. All the Luminata were over ten centuries old; Elena was smart and she was fast, but she was still a whole lot mortal. Going in half assed would get her killed, break Raphael’s heart, and not help any other man or woman who might still be a captive.

So she’d wait for her archangel.

He returned in a matter of minutes. “Eli was waiting on the other side of the door, is spiriting the women to his and Hannah’s suite under glamour, so we have more time to unearth what lies here.”

Cupping his face in her hands, she kissed him hard. “I love you.” She had to say that, had to get it out before it overwhelmed her.

He touched his hand to her cheek, a warm, possessive caress. “Let’s go end this.”

Pulling the door shut behind them, he used his angelfire to fuse the iron of it to the walls. “No one will be coming in behind us.”

Elena smiled grimly and went on down the corridor ahead of him, her crossbow out. She’d decided the gun was too dangerous in close quarters, could lead to a ricochet. And a bolt embedded in the face would give even a powerful angel pause.

She could feel Raphael gritting his teeth at having her in the line of fire, but he didn’t try to push her behind him. In return, and because she knew how damn hard it was to let the person you loved walk into danger in front of you, she hunched down a little so he had a clearer view over her head.

Only there was nothing to see: the corridor came to a dead end on a smooth wall.

This time it was Elena who dropped to the ground and checked the air at the bottom using the feather she’d saved from before. The movement was again, very slight, but it existed. She searched all over for a mechanism to open it, could find nothing. “We can’t wait,” she whispered, urgency pounding at her.

 . . . special chamber to see his pet.

Someone was trapped beyond this wall and awful things were being done to that person. And it was being done by a Luminata who held enough power or control over the others that they obeyed his every word.

“Step back, Guild Hunter.”

As she squeezed past him, Raphael pulled one of her thin throwing blades from a wrist sheath. She didn’t react except with a confused scowl—he was one of the few people she’d let get that close, do what he’d just done.

Taking her knife, he stared at the wall for a few seconds before reaching up and pushing the tip of the blade into a spot that looked like any other.

The door cracked open in smooth silence.

So did Elena’s mouth. “Care to explain?”

“My mother has been around a long time,” he said, returning the knife to her. “I asked her if she’d seen such invisible doors before, with no indentations that could be pressure sensors.” Now we go silent.