A very careful insertion of the tip of the blade stick, an expert lift . . . and Aodhan had separated the miniature from the frame. Frowning, he looked down at the tiny writing on the back. “Majda,” he said. “I think that’s what it says.”

Raphael took the miniature, looked at the writing; it was in the same text Elena had seen in the Gallery. “Yes.”

Elena blew out a breath. “That doesn’t sound anything like Elena.” Folding her arms, she watched as Aodhan put frame and image back together. “My mother told me that my grandmother’s nickname was Elena.”

“There is apt to be more to her name,” Raphael said as she nodded at Aodhan to hold on to the miniature, her dress not having many hiding places. “With this name and the initial E that your mother remembered being on her baby blanket, you have avenues of investigation beyond Lumia—starting with the closest township.”

Looking out at the distant stronghold, she threw her gaze even farther forward, but the town that existed beyond the border wasn’t visible. “I’m not sure I want Aodhan and I to be that far from you while the Cadre is in session.” No matter her hunger to dig up the truth of her ancestry, leaving him without backup wasn’t an option.

“If there is to be a battle among the Cadre, Guild Hunter, I would rather you not be anywhere in the vicinity. Remember Beijing.”

The city no longer existed. The smoke was long gone but the crater remained a brutal scar on the landscape—and some said there were parts of it that were hot to the touch to this day. Elena wasn’t sure whether to believe those reports or not, because most people stayed far, far away from the evidence of what could happen when archangels fought one another.

“Being in the town won’t protect me from that kind of battle,” she said bluntly. And my only fear is losing you.

Raphael closed his hand over hers while Aodhan once more stepped away to offer them privacy. “If you keep your movements erratic, it protects you.”

She couldn’t argue with that. Wandering Lumia’s endless hallways was a good way to get trapped—and to distract Raphael with worry. He didn’t need any distractions, not when he was crossing swords with the Cadre of Ten.

“Maybe this afternoon,” she said, “Aodhan and I can go do a reconnaissance of the town, see if we can get a feel for it. Caliane and I aren’t supposed to meet for our walk until the evening.” She leaned into Raphael on the heels of her words, the heat of him a burn she craved. “Stay safe, Archangel.”

“Do not fear, hbeebti.” The Legion mark glittered in the sunlight as he pressed his forehead to her own. “I don’t think anyone on the Cadre is keen for a repeat of Beijing.” A pause. “Of course, if Lijuan decides to pay us a visit, then the endgame may be upon us.”

* * *

Watching Raphael return to the inner chamber had her gut in knots, but Elena kept it together, a casual expression on her face as she forced herself to nibble a little further from the lunch spread. Might as well keep up with the fuel since her huge meal appeared to have digested at the speed of light.

“You were in an energy deficit,” Raphael had said when she mentioned that. “Remember, each and every cell of your body is transforming from mortal to immortal. You are fast-forwarding through a process that takes an angelic babe at least a hundred years.”

Put that way, was it any wonder she was eating like a bodybuilder?

Eyes on wings of white gold, she consumed nuts and dried fruit with mindless efficiency. Dried meat would probably be better, but Elena had her limits. A little jerky on the road? That she could deal with. Eating it piece by piece by piece? No thanks.

Then the doors to the inner chamber slammed shut with a portentous bang, sealing Raphael in with the rest of the Cadre once more.

He wasn’t alone, she reminded herself. Along with the enemies, he had allies in there. And he was a freaking archangel.

“He is also the only one who has displayed an ability to keep Lijuan in check,” Aodhan murmured to her, having clearly followed the path of her thoughts. “Self-interest alone should keep him from being attacked by the others. No one wants Lijuan free to cause mayhem.”

“Except Charisemnon,” she pointed out, once again ignoring Riker when the vampire tried to catch her eye.

“I’m no expert in Cadre politics,” Aodhan said, “but I believe the Archangel of Northern Africa has few friends in the Cadre. He went too far with the Falling.”

“Coward.” She crunched down on a bunch of nuts on that single word, reminding herself that every mouthful she ate was another step closer to true immortality. Her bones were getting stronger day by day, her tendons less difficult to snap, her skin harder to bruise.

Of course, it was all relative.

The vampire walking toward her was far stronger than her. “Elena,” Riker said with a smile that was full of psychotic charm, the cedar and ice scent of him as incongruously beautiful as always. “Want to play?” He stepped close enough that their boots touched.

The swish of steel leaving a sheath. “Consort, would you like me to cut off his head?”

Aodhan’s toneless question had Riker looking up with narrowed eyes, but whatever he saw in Aodhan’s eyes had him paling before he gave her space. “I’m only being friendly.”

She felt as if she were being covered with slick black oil with every word he spoke. It would’ve been easy to let Aodhan handle it, but she was a hunter and she was Raphael’s consort. She hid from no one. “How’s your heart these days?” she asked with a razor-sharp smile. “I haven’t had a close look at it lately.”