And Elena didn’t think Michaela tolerated physical imperfection.
Catching her glance, Riker smiled . . . and licked his tongue over his lips.
Creep.
She didn’t give him the benefit of a response, focusing her attention on his mistress.
Michaela was looking up at Titus and laughing at something the warrior archangel was saying. Big and heavily muscled, his skin gleaming jet and his smile a dazzling thing, his wings powerful, Titus was no slouch in the looks department, but it was his sex appeal that most impacted women. Obviously, even Michaela wasn’t immune.
“I don’t think I’ve ever before seen Michaela actually laughing,” she said to Raphael, the two of them far enough away and the room cavernous enough that no one could hear them. “Not when she’s not putting on an act.” It made the other woman even more extraordinarily beautiful.
And Elena could see how men would fall for her.
“At least Titus has the brains not to bite down on any lures she may throw out,” was Raphael’s response. “He has seen through her for an eon.”
“Good. I really like Titus.” The big angel said what he meant and meant what he said. “I don’t see Dahariel.”
“Astaad likely left his second in charge at home, as we did Dmitri.”
“Right, I keep forgetting that while Dahariel might have slept with Michaela, his loyalty is to Astaad.” That messed with her mind. “I don’t know if I could ever sleep with a man who wasn’t loyal to me.”
The crashing wind, the salt-laced sea of Raphael’s voice in her mind. That will never be an issue, Consort. Since you will only ever be sleeping with me.
Laughing at that icy response, she turned to lock her gaze with his. “Just don’t forget—that goes both ways. I’ll use the pretty blade you gave me to hack off the head of any woman who touches you.”
His lips curved. “Of course.” Not shifting his eyes from her own, he said, “It seems Gian is intrigued by you.”
“I could feel the back of my neck prickling. Figured it was Michaela shooting poison at me with her eyes.” Elena turned back toward the others, keeping her motions natural, as if she was simply taking in the room once again. “I’d quite like to talk to the guy, get his measure.”
“This is a good opportunity. It may be nothing but curiosity, but if he’s interested in testing the strength of a mortal hunter turned consort, you’ll be safer here than if he catches you alone.”
Elena tried not to frown. “You think he’s dangerous?”
“I’ve just remembered where I know the name from.”
13
Raphael leaned in to speak against her ear, an archangel and his consort sharing a private joke. “Gian was the second of an archangel who has Slept since before Neha’s ascension. He is at least five thousand years old and dangerously strong.”
Smiling to keep up the illusion of a private conversation between lovers, Elena said, “Got it. I’ll watch myself.”
“He also had a reputation for being a man who enjoyed the pleasures of life and who had many lovers, all of them women.” Raphael’s tone was thoughtful. “From that to this bastion of maleness, it’s an unusual progression.”
“I dunno—sometimes people take stock of their life and don’t like what they see. Could be what happened to Gian.” She glanced over her shoulder to check on Aodhan.
The angel had taken up a position against the wall of the Atrium nearest the door, alongside several of his fellow escorts. One of those escorts, Elena saw, was a well-armed and gorgeous woman with a blunt fringe of black hair against skin of muted brown—and she was looking straight at Aodhan, invitation in her smile.
Aodhan’s attention, however, was on Elena.
Turning back around after their eyes met in a silent communication that all was well—so far—she asked Raphael about the woman, then held up a hand. “Wait, let me guess. Hmm . . . Neha’s escort?”
“Titus’s,” Raphael told her with a smile. “He adores soft, feminine women, but he also has a powerful contingent of female warriors. I’m fairly certain the woman is the fourth in his command structure.”
Reminding herself that all the archangels were multidimensional, she saw that Michaela and Titus were still talking, while Gian remained in another area, in conversation with Astaad. Mele was nowhere to be seen, but Elena glimpsed Hannah and Elijah in the far opposite corner of the Atrium. Alexander and Xander stood with the couple, Alexander dressed in black pants, boots, and a silver breastplate stamped with an image Elena couldn’t make out from this distance.