“What the Legion showed us . . .” Her mind struggled to grasp the concept; she could suddenly appreciate the difficulty the Legion’d had in describing the phenomenon.

“It was a moment of blinding clarity,” Raphael said, “but now it slips in and out of my grasp like a half-remembered dream.”

Elena tilted back her head and took a deep breath of the cold air, on the theory that not thinking about it would bring the concept to the surface. “I feel so powerful.” Her skin continued to break open but nothing hurt; she felt better than she had in her whole life. “I think I’m drunk.”

“Would you like to send a fireball to the sky?” She heard the smile in his tone.

Dropping her gaze from the sky to him, this creature of power and beauty, she grinned past the anguish. “You’re still a little bit mortal.”

“I have pieces of your heart inside me, hbeebti. I will always be a little bit mortal.” He looked again at the bloody sky. “Blood is not evil. Blood runs in our veins. Blood is life.”

“They gave theirs so we could fight for ours.” She couldn’t look toward where the Primary had stood, the pain too raw and fresh.

“The Legion were warriors, Elena-mine, and they laid down their existence for their aeclari. We will honor that.”

Elena flexed her hands, focusing on the energy that lit up her veins and not on the loss that would hurt for a long time to come. “We better go see Dmitri, see if he knows anything more about that boom we heard.”

They stepped off the balcony together. As they did, she wondered how they looked against the night sky. Shirtless and beautiful, Raphael was glowing almost too bright to look at, and she was painted with rivers of liquid gold. I hope someone snaps a photo, she thought to Raphael. We are never going to look this badass again.

He laughed and he was her Raphael, even if there was a heavier darkness to him now, the darkness of an ancient power that had found home in his veins. This, she thought, was permanent.

He would carry the imprint of their Legion through eternity.

67

Dmitri took one look at the two of them and found a pair of sunglasses from somewhere. Elena had to laugh. The vampire had a sense of humor at times that very closely resembled hers. Not that they’d ever be friends. It was an unspoken law of nature.

Her laughter fled with Raphael’s next word. “Titus?”

“No news.” Taking off the sunglasses, Dmitri put them on a computer table. “Whatever he and Charisemnon did, it succeeded in blowing out all communications from those territories to the outside world. No one from another territory’s flown there and back yet to pass on the information.”

Dark eyes hard, Dmitri added, “Our own communications are sketchy at best. I think Lijuan or her people did a bit of deliberate damage at some point.”

“Have we lost our eyes on that side?”

“Vivek’s still got a few. It’s about what you’d expect. She’s getting ready to feed again, though we can’t see the flesh mountain—those bugs were crunched.” Dmitri brought up a feed on a nearby screen. “I sent Vivek to sleep after Michaela left with Elijah. He’s not meant to be awake and in the chair for such long stretches yet.”

Tell your friend to stop acting so human. It’s annoying.

I would not dare get in the middle of your and Dmitri’s special relationship, hbeebti. Light words, but he made sure his wing continued to touch hers, the glow coming off their bodies a silent testament to the sacrifice of seven hundred and seventy-seven exceptional beings.

Dmitri pointed to movement on the screen. “Wounded are being carried in that direction. Could be being taken to an infirmary, but my cold, dead heart has other thoughts.”

“What about the ships?” Raphael asked. “The possible troop or reborn transports?”

“Definitely coming this way.” Dmitri indicated a map on another screen; it had various lines dotted on it. “We’re updating this as we get any data—it’s become fragmented as communications continue to go out around the world.”

“I don’t suppose we can fly a jet out there and punch a few holes in the ship using grenade launchers?” Elena folded her arms, her booted feet set wide. “I mean, there’re no rules about how you get to a battle, right? Lijuan used submarines.”

“I thought about that,” Dmitri said, “but she’s ahead of us.” Minimizing the feed from enemy territory, he flicked up another image.

It was of the ruins of a jet, its wings broken off and its fuselage cracked in half as it lay on the tarmac. Elena recognized the paint job. “Dougal, the others?” she whispered.

“As far as I know, the planes were empty.” A glance at Raphael. “Images were hand-delivered by one of Jason’s people. I didn’t want to interrupt whatever was going on that had you turning the sky the color of a nice blood wine.”

“Xi must’ve sent out a stealth team under cover of darkness.” Raphael sounded cool, clearheaded. “Did she hit all our planes?”

“I don’t have a report from the secondary airport, but chances are high. I had to pull protection from both airports when we saw the size of Lijuan’s army—it’s why I told all pilots and airfield crews to evacuate to housing a short distance away.”

“You made the right call. We had no way of knowing the ships were en route.”

“Did they attack nearby civilians?” Elena was deeply conscious of the vulnerability of her friends and family.

“No, it was a targeted strike.”

“Lijuan might be mad, but she remains a goddess in her mind,” Raphael murmured. “Goddesses do not win battles by attacking the weak.”

“She did and is doing horrible things to her people.”

“But they are her people, Elena. To her, that means they belong to her, to do with as she wishes.” Raphael looked once more at the images of the broken planes. “What are the chances Xi will launch a major assault during the hours of darkness that remain?”

“Naasir’s been skulking around out there and managed to pick up some high-level chatter. Together with what we’re getting from Vivek’s technological spies, I’d say it’s low to negligible. My feeling is they’re waiting for the reinforcements to arrive. With that and Lijuan at full power, that’s it. Game over in a single strike.”

“That is exactly what I would do were I running Lijuan’s war room.” Raphael looked out beyond the glass, to the fires on the various rooftops. “We must make the assault before they are ready, but when our people are not so exhausted. In the interim, I must think on how we can kill an archangel who appears to have become truly immortal.”

* * *

• • •

First, however, the two of them flew over their side of the city and landed on those rooftops and streets nearest where they’d lost ground. They met with the troops who’d been so badly demoralized by that loss, and whose faces now lit up at seeing the power burning off both of them.

Izzy’s eyes nearly popped out of his head. Coming closer, he reached out a finger to Elena’s arm, hovered.

“Go on,” she said. “I should warn you I have no idea what will happen.”

The warriors around him looked even more intrigued. Izzy was undeterred. “I’m part of your Guard, Ellie. Your power won’t hurt me.” He touched his finger to a section of her skin that held tributaries of liquid gold. The gold twined around his finger for a second before returning to her and continuing on in its business.

He dropped his hand, his smile a thing of beauty. “See? Your power knows me.”

Patting his cheek because seriously, he was the most adorable adult angel she knew, she said, “Long as you don’t steal the last slice of pizza like you did last time. Then all bets are off.”

As his friends laughed and slapped him on the back, the sky continued to swirl blood red, and Elena knew the power in Raphael’s veins was bedding in, becoming a permanent part of his cells.

Later, back in the suite, their first goal was to be clean.

“I have dirt on top of my dirt,” she muttered, but it wasn’t a true complaint. No soldier cared about being clean when those few minutes might mean the fall of their city. This time was a luxury.

Soon as they’d stripped, Raphael scooped her up in his arms, her wings lightning and fire around them, and took her straight to the bath. Steam rose from the top of it.

“I swear, Montgomery has better spies than Jason.” She sighed as Raphael lowered her into the bath before following her in. It was a place where they often played, but not today. Today, it was about scrubbing off the dirt while their wings brushed against each other and their legs touched.

Afterward, they jumped in the shower for a final rinse. That was when Raphael lifted her up by the hips and pinned her to the wall. They came together in a hot, hard fury, a moment stolen on the eve of a battle where all could be won . . . or lost.

No foreplay, no teasing, just the raw need to be one.

Limp against him in the aftermath, she sighed when he pressed a kiss to her shoulder. They took a long second more to be together, to find strength in one another before they drew apart and began to dry off.

They didn’t dress in full combat gear, but put on enough that they could be on the battlefield in a matter of seconds should it be necessary. Clean, ready, they lay down in bed, Elena’s head on Raphael’s chest and her wings sprawled over him in a dance of lightning, while he cupped her nape with his hand, his thumb stroking absently.

They talked about Lijuan and about the knowledge the Legion had tried to give them, attempting to make sense of a shattered kaleidoscope of memories. Elena fell asleep at some point; her exhausted body still felt very mortal at times. When she woke, it was to a reddish light falling through the balcony doors they’d left uncurtained all night.

Raphael remained in bed with her and awake, his free arm bent behind his head as he stared at the ceiling. His other arm was yet wrapped around her. He was warm and strong and smelled like home—and the glow of power burned from his skin.