Fingers closing on the sheets, she watched him watch her. His eyes were heavy lidded, his cheeks flushed at the arch of his cheekbones, his breathing ragged. And when she ran her eyes down his body, it was to see that he was thickly aroused, the zipper of his jeans doing a very bad job of containing his length.

“Take off your jeans.” She wanted to see him, too, wanted to have every inch of him touch every inch of her.

“In a minute.” Inserting his hand back between her thighs, he began to stroke her lightly, so lightly. Again and again and again until her skin shimmered and she was rising up against him, caught on the edge of a pleasure so intense, she could feel it building under her skin like an electrical storm surge.

He withdrew his hand.

She threatened to murder him in creative ways.

Janvier’s responding smile imprisoned her, seduced her. When he kissed her, she bit him. It only made his smile deepen. Wrapping her legs around his h*ps had no effect. He made his way down her body, and then . . .

The scream that came out her mouth as his own closed over her cl*t was a thin echo, her lungs devoid of air. He sucked hard, eating her up like she was candy, and the storm surge crested, collided. Her mind splintered, rode the crest . . . and he kept on kissing her, long slow licks, small sucks, and quick flicks that had her riding the wave for so long that she was boneless when it passed, her muscles quivering.

Pressing a kiss to her inner thigh, Janvier rose and got rid of his jeans at last.

Beautiful, she thought but couldn’t say, her mind too fuzzy from the exquisite, erotic thing he’d done to her.

“You are the beautiful one, sugar.”

She frowned, but then he was coming over and she had other things to think about. His na**d body on hers, it felt even better than she’d imagined, all heat and strength and a wholly masculine weight, his skin silk under her possessive hands.

Rubbing against her, Janvier reached down to stroke her again. She shivered, sensitive but not in a bad way. “Yes,” she murmured, before he could ask the question.

He kissed her again, and this time she kept her eyes open. So did he. The intimacy was blinding. When he slid his finger inside her, she shuddered but didn’t break the eye contact. Neither did he . . . and nudged in another finger. Spreading his fingers slightly inside her, he curved them to stroke her deep and slow.

Feeling the storm surge begin to build again, she stroked his cheek. “Together this time.”

Turning his head, he kissed her palm.

Her heart squeezed.

She ran her fingers through his hair and down over his nape as he removed his hand from between her legs and shifted position. When he slid his palm down her inner left thigh, she let him push her thigh out wider, and then he was nudging at her with his cock. She moaned at the feel of him pushing into her, the blunt head of his c*ck wide enough that she definitely felt it, her muscles stretching in an effort to accommodate him.

A small sound escaped her throat. He went motionless.

Tightening her legs around his hips, she rocked up. “I want you inside me.” Kisses on his lips, his cheeks, his throat, her hands cupping his face. “I need you.”

“Ashwini.” The fingers of one hand digging into her hip, he took a shaky breath and pushed.

It burned but the hurt was a good one.

He slid in another inch, both of them sucked in a breath . . . and he began to retreat. But he pushed back before she could complain, going in an inch deeper. Again, and again. By the time he got to the fifth stroke, she’d forgotten the edge of discomfort and was thinking only of the pleasure. Muscles clenching around him, she heard him swear and then there was no more thinking.

Just heat and sex and Janvier’s body stroking in and out of her, their mouths ravenous on one another and their eyes open. She gave him her soul, took his, and it was as it had always been meant to be.

•   •   •

Elena landed on the Tower roof late that night, after assisting a fellow hunter with a vamp who’d turned into a squirrelly runner. The small, slippery woman had been fast, weaving in and out through the city with the agility of the acrobat she’d apparently once been. Elena had found herself admiring her—even more so after her response to being caught. “I should’ve never listened to Bill,” the petite runner had muttered in disgust. “Loophole, my ass! And now that very nice ass is toast!”

Wondering how many others Demarco’s accountant target had infected with his “loophole” lunacy, Elena reached out to Raphael. Archangel?

No response.

Frowning because she’d assumed he was at the Tower, she walked inside and to his office to find it empty. Her next stop was Dmitri’s office. The vampire was dressed in black jeans and a black T-shirt today, his hair messy, as if he’d been running his hand through it. There was no doubt that Dmitri was a gorgeous, sexy man. There was also no doubt that he liked blood and pain a little too much.

His relationship with Honor was nothing Elena would’ve ever predicted—because the fact that Dmitri loved his wife was never in question. He saw no one else when Honor was in the room, his dark eyes only for her. Anyone who dared hurt the other hunter would soon find themselves very dead, likely after significant torture.

“Ellie,” he said, curling a tendril of scent around her senses.

Fur and champagne and the promise of agonizing sin.

Tensing her muscles against the impact because she knew damn well he did it only to test her, she gritted her teeth until the first wave passed. “Is that a report on the victims Ashwini’s team found?”

A nod, features grim. “The one named Brooke has the most broken bones and internal injuries, but her chances of survival are nonetheless better than the ones Cornelius fed on.”

“It’s certain, then, that it’s Cornelius?” Elena had kept up with the ongoing situation despite her other duties. The request for assistance from her hunter pal had come in only forty-five minutes before; she’d spent the rest of the day flying across wider New York. Raphael had asked her to take a Legion squadron and visit the well-behaving vampire leaders.

An indication that their control of their people has been noticed, and a reminder that the Tower never stops watching.

Having seen bloodlust in action a number of times as a hunter, the carnage sickening, Elena had no problem with doing what she could to ensure their city didn’t descend into a bloodbath. As it was, the men and women she’d met today had all been on edge. News of Anais’s and Severin’s detainment at the Tower, entwined with the blood-chilling fear of the others who’d come face-to-face with a coldly furious Raphael the previous day, had spread through the community like wildfire.

Elena had reassured the vampire leaders that Raphael had noticed their attention to their duties and that they were in no danger of being called to a meeting with a pissed-off archangel. Her simple presence, the fact that she knew their names, had been enough to drive home Raphael’s second point while simultaneously making the leaders feel appreciated.

Her wing muscles ached from the hours of flight, her body exhausted, but it had been worth it to reinforce the calm of the city. Even the Quarter had been free of any hint of bloodlust when she’d dropped by prior to answering Hilda’s call for an angelic assist. Her Guild colleagues had begun to utilize her in specific incidents where an aerial view would be helpful and it gave Elena a way to keep her hand in, even as she spent more time on Tower business.

Her hunter soul, however, wished she’d been able to help Ash and Janvier also, the ugliness of what they’d discovered enraging her. No one had the right to do that to another living being, to take sick pleasure in the terror of another.

“My gut says it’s Cornelius,” Dmitri answered now, dropping the report on his desk. “It all lines up too well—the way the victims are emaciated, the red and cream feathers, and the fact that Giorgio spent half a century in Lijuan’s court at the beginning of his Contract. That last’s something I’ve just learned.” He put his hands on his hips, raised an eyebrow. “But Janvier and the hunter are chasing this trail. What can I do for you, esteemed consort?”

Her fingers itched for a blade. “Have you seen Raphael?”

“Ah.” He walked closer. “I’m afraid one of your favorite people has come to visit.”

“If you tell me Michaela is here, I’ll have to stab you for being the messenger.” Raphael had personally escorted the other archangel out of his territory prior to the battle, after Michaela pretended to be pregnant to gain their sympathy—or for some other Machiavellian purpose they hadn’t yet worked out.

“Such kinky things you say, Ellie.” A purr of sound, before the scents around her became intoxicating enough to strangle her breath.

“Dmitri, stop baiting Ellie.” Having entered behind Elena, Honor went to poke her husband in the side, a scowl on her face. “What are you doing to her?”

Wrapping an arm around Honor’s shoulders, Dmitri held her close. “Keeping her strong.” His eyes watched Elena, unblinking as a predator’s. “Her scent susceptibility is a weakness others haven’t yet learned to exploit, but they will.”

Elena wished she could disagree, but, bastard though he was, Dmitri was right. Forcing air into her lungs, she said, “Spit it out. Who’s here?”

“Caliane.”

Her mind simply refused to compute that. So did Honor’s, judging from the way her jaw fell.

“Caliane?” they both said in unison.

“Yes.”

“But she’s an ocean away!” Elena pointed out in desperation. “She can’t just leave her city and fly over.” Elena had spoken to Raphael about Naasir’s report of Caliane’s loneliness, but he’d said nothing about his mother visiting so soon. “What about the shield that protects her people? Lijuan’s generals are just a short flight away.”

“It appears Raphael’s mother has secrets like any Ancient,” Dmitri said, a faint curve to his mouth. “I’ve been in touch with Venom—the shield is active, and Venom didn’t even know she was gone until I called him. Caliane told her people she would be sequestered with her maidens for some days.”

Elena rubbed her face. “Oh, God,” she moaned. “My mother-in-law has arrived for a visit and the house isn’t even ready! Is she there?”

Amusement open, Dmitri said, “She was spotted by a far-advance scout—Raphael has flown out over the water to escort her the rest of the way home. You have at least an hour and I’ve alerted Montgomery that a suite needs to be made up.” The drugging tendrils of scent retracted, the vampire taking pity on her. “Trust your butler.”

Excellent advice, even considering the source. “I need to get home, change.” She had grease and blood on her from the capture, the acrobat having led her and Hilda into a junkyard. “Why didn’t you give me a call earlier?”

“The sire stated an hour’s warning would be enough. It’s all the time you need.”

According to whom? Elena wanted to yell. “Damn it, Honor, what do I do with an Ancient mother-in-law who thinks I’m a bug?” One that had infested the life of Caliane’s beloved son.

39

The other hunter winced, lifted her shoulders. “Sorry, Ellie. I don’t have any experience in that field.” Biting down on her lower lip, she snapped her fingers. “Wait, didn’t Keir come in last night? I bet Caliane likes Keir.”

“You’re a genius!” Kissing the other woman on the cheek, Elena ran out the balcony door and swept down to the infirmary floor. Keir was amused at her panic but promised to join them for a late supper if Caliane was not exhausted and wanted company.

“She has come to see her son, Elena,” the healer said, his hand gentle on her cheek and his eyes warm. “I think she will require little entertaining.”

Hoping that was true, and that Caliane would decide to ignore her for the most part, Elena flew homeward, the Legion fighters who fell in with her silent shadows. The Enclave house was lit up like a glowing beacon, and Montgomery—damn, but the man deserved a raise—had set up hundreds of tiny candles in the snowy yard, each protected from the elements and the wind generated by angelic landings by a glass cage.

It was astonishingly beautiful from the air.

Landing in the circular area that had been left clear for that purpose, Elena walked inside to find the house in a bother. It was highly efficient, but everyone had somewhere to be, and no time to waste. Montgomery actually had a hair out of place. “Guild Hunter,” he said, his relief obvious. “I took the liberty of putting out one of your gowns in readiness.”

“Great, thanks.” Elena took the stairs two at a time, while Montgomery kept pace with her. “Is there anything else I need to handle?”

“I’ve prepared the blue suite for Lady Caliane, and Sivya is ensuring we’ll have plenty of dishes for her to choose from,” he said as she walked into her and Raphael’s rooms and began to unstrap her weapons.

Crossbow, knives, the throwing stars Ash had given her, the blade sticks that had been a gift from Mahiya. Leaving it all in a pile on a table, although she usually made sure to clean and neatly store her tools, she began to unlace and pull off her boots. “It sounds like you’re on top of things.” She frowned, tried to think like a consort. “Run her a bath so it’s ready and at the right temperature when she arrives. She’s had a long journey.”

“Of course.”

“And get a few flowering potted plants from the greenhouse,” she said, remembering the lush gardens of Amanat. “Put them in her suite and her bathing chamber.”