Archangel's Legion(85)

“I get it, but he’s still a proud idiot,” Sara said, her tone deeply affectionate.

“Keir’s personally monitoring his progress.” Sara had met the healer during her visit to the Refuge, knew the deep respect with which he was held in the immortal world. “It’s been a long time since the Making of a mortal with such a significant long-term injury.”

“Mommy!” Zoe ran back to them in that wild, almost-falling-over-at-any-instant way. “Isses!”

Crouching down to snuggle her little girl in her arms, Sara smothered her adorable face in the requested kisses. The two looked so gorgeous together that Elena snapped a photo with her own phone, Sara’s deep purple coat vibrant against Zoe’s orange outfit, their faces creased in identical smiles. Zoe giggled when Sara pretended to tickle her, then gave her mom a smacking kiss on the cheek before holding up her arms to Elena, dark eyes bright. “Nantie Ellie!”

Laughing, “Nantie” Ellie lifted Zoe into her arms and, after sneaking a cuddle, threw her into the air, catching her in a firm grip on the downward flight. Zoe squealed happily, her hood falling off to reveal gorgeous curls of bronze threaded black tied in two neat pigtails. “Zoe fly, Nantie Ellie!”

“Yes,” she said, utterly besotted with Sara’s baby. “You’re flying, Zoe.”

Five goes later, the little girl was seduced by the sight of an angelic feather drifting to the snow from a passing squadron and raced off to snag it for her collection.

“I swear,” Sara muttered, “I have a heart attack every time you and Deacon decide to treat my tiny, tiny baby like she’s a damn basketball.”

Elena grinned. “She’s your kid—you’re the one who jumped off a building in pursuit of a vampire.” Leaving Elena swearing a blue streak as she stared down at the alley, fully expecting to see her friend’s broken body. “And you caught him, too.” Sara had calculated her jump to take her into a Dumpster full of food waste. Nasty, but safe.

Now, her best friend pointed a finger at her. “You do not tell stories like that within earshot of Zoe.”

“Give it up, Mama Bear. She has the ex-Slayer for a father and the kick-ass Guild Director for a mother, plus a totally awesome hunter-born for an aunt.” Patting Sara’s shoulder, she said, “Kid’s never going to be satisfied sitting at home doing jigsaw puzzles.”

“Deacon made her a miniature crossbow.” The look on Sara’s face was an odd mix between horrified and proud as she said, “Zoe’s a crack shot already. Thank God her ‘bolts’ have sponge heads or we’d all be dead several times over.”

“You know she’ll have every hunter in the Guild, and if I have my way, every angel and vampire in the Tower, looking out for her.”

Sara brightened. “There is that . . . though it’ll probably drive her to rebellion. We must fine-tune our cunning plans to insulate her from danger.”

The subject of their machinations raced back right then, breathless with excitement. In her little fist was a feather of deep brown edged with black. “Angel,” the little girl said, stroking her finger gently over the filaments she’d taken care not to crush.

“Well done, baby.” Beaming, Sara crouched down again. “Do you want me to keep it safe for you?”

Sara didn’t speak again until Zoe had returned to her play, and when she did, her words were heavy with concern, her face solemn. “Vivek’s going to need us after he wakes up. I can’t bear to think he might have to keep his distance.”

Neither could Elena. “I’ve got an idea on how we can make sure he has that support without him violating his oath to Raphael and the Tower.”

Two hours later, she tracked Aodhan to the top of one of the massive towers of the George Washington Bridge, his legs hanging over the side as he sat atop the metal frame, and his eyes on the traffic below. He’d have been a hazardous distraction had it been a sunny day, but the overcast sky kept the sunlight from refracting off him, the drivers unaware they were being watched.

She thought about how to bring herself down safely on the relatively narrow surface, and managed it on her second attempt. “Not bad.” Grinning, she didn’t draw attention to the fact that Aodhan’s hand had shot out to grab her when it appeared she might slip and fall. Automatic though it had no doubt been, it was a sign the angel’s dislike for touch wasn’t so deeply rooted as to trump his instinct to protect.

“Your balance is excellent,” Aodhan said, his expression thoughtful, “but you need to strengthen the muscles used to hold a low hover.”