Archangel's Legion(3)
Not so urgent that we cannot fly.
Looking up, she watched him wing his way higher and higher with breathtaking ease, until he was a faraway dot in the sky . . . then felt her heart stop as he dropped, a sleek arrow of white-gold that shot past her, accelerating until she could see people screaming in the park below. A second before what would’ve been terminal impact for a mortal, Raphael spread his wings and shot back up.
You terrified everyone. Her own pulse was in her mouth, her blood thunder in her ears.
Humans need to be terrified every so often. It keeps them from crossing lines that shouldn’t be crossed.
You ever think maybe archangels should be challenged once in a while? she countered. That it’d take care of the whole arrogance issue?
Anyone may challenge me.
When he executed a turn toward the Hudson, Elena followed, the river winds riffling through the strands of hair that had escaped her braid. How can people challenge you when they’re so afraid?
It didn’t stop you.
Well, he did have her there. But—I’ve always had a dash of crazy in me.
Flying wing to wing with him, she swept out over the water, following the river north, before turning to head to their house in the Angel Enclave. Situated along the cliffs on the opposite side of the Hudson from Manhattan, it was a magnificent building that offered sweeping views of the city, but for Elena, it was simply home.
Montgomery has prepared something special for you. Do not break his heart.
Elena grinned at the thought of the butler. You know Montgomery and I have a mutual love affair. Coming down on her feet on the still-green grass of the lawn that ended in a steep drop into the Hudson, she watched Raphael land, his wingspan incredible.
“A storm,” he murmured, his eyes on the clouds that had begun to boil over Manhattan. “It grew quickly.”
So quickly that she hadn’t noticed anything while in the air. “It’s not another Ancient waking up, is it?” she asked, the tiny hairs on her arms standing up at the memory of the last time the city had suffered inclement weather.
“No,” Raphael said to her relief. “It’d be an extraordinary thing for two to rise within the span of a year—this is likely nothing but the first lash of winter. Still, we will watch to make certain. We cannot forget that the Cascade is in full effect.”
“Yeah, and it’s not exactly a flowers-and-butterflies kind of thing.” The Cascade, according to everything they’d been able to discover, was a confluence of time and certain critical events that led to a surge of power in the Cadre. All of the archangels would grow in strength, some might be touched with madness, but none would remain the same. Neither would the world, for the archangels were part of its very fabric.
“Does the second thing you want to discuss have to do with the Cascade?”
“No.” Those eyes of endless blue met her own. “Michaela has asked permission to remain for an extended period in my territory.”
Elena’s jaw dropped. “Oh, hell no.” The female archangel had made it clear she considered Elena something lesser, a bug to be ground beneath her designer boot. “What makes her think I’d want her in my city?”
“I do not believe Michaela thought of you at all.” Brutal words from her archangel, but Elena knew the anger wasn’t directed at her.
“Michaela,” he continued, his tone as cold as a scalpel slicing across the throat, “would’ve had a better chance of receiving my assistance had she not insulted my consort in the asking.”
“The fact we’re discussing this means you’re considering her request.”
“She wishes sanctuary because she is with child.”
Shock rooted Elena to the spot. It suddenly made sense, why the woman many considered the most beautiful in the world hadn’t been spotted in the media for at least two months, when she’d always loved that kind of attention. “What about the father of her child?” she asked at last. “I assume it’s Dahariel?” At Raphael’s nod, she said, “He’s a powerful angel in his own right, second to an archangel.”
“Michaela might’ve slept with Dahariel, but she doesn’t trust him not to stab her in the back while she is vulnerable.”
Elena couldn’t imagine such a situation. She knew Raphael would fight to the death to protect her if and when they decided to try for a child. “Will she be? Vulnerable?” Michaela wasn’t an archangel simply in name—she had the blinding power to go with it.
“Yes.” Raphael’s eyes followed a squadron of angels coming in to land at the Tower, their bodies angled to slice through the rising wind. “Pregnancy can be difficult for archangels. Michaela’s power will remain, but her hold on it may become erratic. It is why a consort is so necessary during this time.”