“I build my weapons to be used, not to be kept shiny and clean and under glass,” he’d said to her the last time she’d been over at their place for dinner. “I only do the odd show-piece because it means the immortal involved owes me a favor—which means he or she owes Sara a favor.”
And the head of the Hunters Guild did occasionally need to call in those markers.
Raphael had gone with her to that dinner, had nodded at Deacon’s reasoning. The two men had become friends of a kind over the past two years. Not the type of friendship Raphael shared with his Seven—it was too soon for that—but one that wasn’t simply a surface acquaintance. They’d been forced into contact because of Elena and Sara’s relationship—after Elena declared that the Archangel of New York would henceforth be attending all social events to which she was invited.
That had caused a certain ripple.
The funniest had been the day she landed at Guild Academy for a party and Raphael landed beside her. Everyone’s jaws had dropped. The sole person who’d bet that Raphael would turn up that night—Ransom—had made a killing. Of course, her archangel hadn’t stayed long, aware that his sheer power altered the balance of the situation, put everyone on edge.
It was different with Deacon and Sara: though they, too, felt the impact of his power, they weren’t in awe of him, saw him first as Elena’s man. Everything else, even the fact he ruled North America, came second.
“It is as when I met Dmitri,” Raphael had said to her after their third dinner with the other couple. “I knew I had met a friend and it made sorrow fill my veins to know that he would be gone in a mere heartbeat.”
Except Dmitri had been Made a vampire against his will, while Deacon was content to live a mortal life. Elena knew because she’d asked both her best friend and Sara’s husband if they wanted to be tested to see if they could become vampires. Not everyone had the right biology for it. Beth didn’t.
Sara had hugged her, smiled, then shaken her head. “We’re happy to be mortal, Ellie.”
Her hug had held a fierce love; Sara understood that Elena was terrified of the day when Sara would no longer be there. The other woman had made Elena see that her own life was as dangerous, that it was possible Sara would outlive her, but what nothing could change was that Elena was becoming ever more immortal and her best friend, her sister of the heart, wasn’t.
As for Sara and Deacon’s daughter, Zoe, she adored Raphael, had no fear of him.
Elena had noticed that about her archangel. He terrified adults, but children gravitated toward him, tiny hands patting at his wings, small faces smiling up at him. He’d been known to take Zoe into his arms and fly so high that Sara complained of heart palpitations. But Raphael always returned Zoe safe and sound and so excited she couldn’t stop dancing.
“Perhaps the weapons are displayed in a different area?” Hannah’s voice broke into her thoughts, had her lost for a second until she remembered that she’d asked about a weapons exhibit.
“Maybe,” she replied. “I’ll ask Gian the next time I see him.” It would give her an excuse to talk further to the Luminata. He was the key to the secrets of Lumia.
23
Ten minutes later, she, Aodhan, Xander, and Valerius were in the skies above Lumia, the miniature still with Aodhan. Elena wanted to scream with impatience but she kept it together. This was a normal thing for warriors to do when trapped in a place where they had few other outlets—fly, stay strong, get some exercise. And she had to be normal right now, because people were watching.
Could be it was paranoia on her part, but she didn’t think so: people were watching.
Always.
Beside her, Xander did an acrobatic flip that had her clapping. “Almost as good as Bluebell,” she called out.
He grinned, handsome and cocky. “Illium is famous for his skills.”
Together, the four of them flew for about an hour, and at one point, she was aware of Aodhan and Valerius flying wing to wing, discussing something. It wasn’t until they’d landed in a large courtyard that Aodhan came to her. Bending to speak with his lips close to her ear, his breath warm against her skin, he said, “Valerius believes Xander is being monitored.”
“Why?” Yes, he was Alexander’s grandson, but surely no one was idiotic enough to think to go after him? Alexander had kept his sanity after losing his son, but he’d raze the world in a rage if he lost his grandson.
“Likely the same reason we are being monitored,” Aodhan replied, his jaw a grim line. “I want to examine your and Raphael’s quarters again.”