She’d been lucky, so damn lucky that all her close friends had made it out alive, here and in the Refuge—the fighting there having ended the instant word filtered back of Lijuan’s defeat. Of the injured, Ransom and Ashwini were the worst off, but they’d both be okay. Ransom had taken a crossbow bolt in the leg in the final battle, his femur snapping, while Ashwini had been slashed pretty badly with a sword across her chest. The other woman now held the Guild record for most stitches in a single sitting and was trying to avoid answering the one question to which every hunter wanted to know the answer.
If she and Janvier weren’t together, then what was he doing playing (wow-mama-sexay) nurse at her apartment, hmm?
The silliness of wondering about Ash and Janvier’s relationship gave the tough, often stoic men and women of the Guild a much-needed emotional outlet, and if the jokes segued into more solemn conversations, that was good, too. Day by day, hour by hour, they were all finding a way to deal. For Elena part of that had meant a visit with Eve and Beth both, as well as a long squeeze-cuddle of a snuggly Zoe, a video call with Sam, and a visit to a hospital earlier that morning to fulfill her promise to a little boy who wanted to fly.
Today, she stood on a building across from the Tower with her archangel, the two of them having met there to get an overview of how the repairs were going—they’d both been working with their people until now. “Oftentimes,” Raphael had said, “an archangel must stand above those he rules, but there are times when he must stand beside them.”
Now, he turned to her, his leathers dusty from the work. “Astaad contacted me earlier. Once we are in a position to welcome guests, he has indicated a willingness to visit.”
Elena had no arguments with that, the other archangel having done the entire world a giant favor. It had been approximately fifteen minutes after they’d returned to the Tower after the retreat of Lijuan’s troops that Raphael had received a very polite call from the Archangel of the Pacific Isles. “Raphael,” he’d said, “I wished to let you know I destroyed the cargo planes heading in your direction. I cannot believe Lijuan would attempt to fly such unclean creatures over my territory.”
As it turned out, the holds had been stuffed with the last of Lijuan’s hideous reborn so far as anyone knew. “Tell him to bring Mele along,” Elena said, thinking she might actually start to enjoy this whole hostess deal if she kept getting to pick guests she liked. “Oh, you’ll probably get an official update from Elijah, but I was talking to Hannah and she says they’ve dug out the final few stubborn reborn from their territory.”
“Good. Our territory is also clean, and I think I’ll speak to Eli about certain ongoing safeguards to make sure that doesn’t change.”
Elena nodded and drew in the crisp, bright winter air as the sounds of horns drifted up from the cabs below. God, it felt good to have her city back again. It might be a little battered, but hell if anyone was going to keep it—and the people who called it home—down. “I can’t believe the Tower repairs were done so quickly.”
The winter sun creating that illusion of white fire across his wings she wasn’t sure was an illusion at all, Raphael walked to the edge of the building. “It’s the symbol of my power.”
As such, Elena thought, it could never appear weak.
“Of course,” Raphael added, “the Legion is an extraordinary workforce.”
“Yeah.” His consort came to stand beside him, arms folded as she scowled at the sight of two Legion fighters landing on a Tower balcony. “You’re sure they’re not secretly planning to take over the city?”
“Yes, I feel it inside.” Stroking his knuckles gently down the side of her face, the heavy bruise she’d taken on her jaw during the final fighting yet healing, he said, “You feel it, too, my suspicious consort.”
She unfolded her arms. “It’s like a tiny but steady pulse at the back of my mind, this awareness the Legion belong to us.” Eyes of silver-gray turning to him, face solemn. “I know if I think a little too hard about the Primary, he’ll appear in front of me, ready to do my bidding. And while I might be starting to get a handle on the consort thing, I’m not ready to deal with that kind of power. It’s yours.”
“Yes,” he said, “it’s mine.” Elena didn’t have the experience to manage a force such as the Legion, and more, she shouldn’t have to. Already, she was taking on far more of the responsibilities of a consort than anyone could’ve expected of her so soon into her immortality. “But I hope you’ll give me the benefit of your advice as I learn to deal with my new army.”