Archangel's War (Guild Hunter #12) - Nalini Singh Page 0,149
bolt, the color shining copper, came from the other direction. It was going to slam into Aodhan. There was no way it could miss—he couldn’t move fast enough with the weight of the other angel in his arms.
Elena wasn’t aware of running or flying, but she was suddenly in the air beside him. She slammed herself into him, her body acting out of old knowledge learned from hundreds of hunts.
The bolt of power singed the tips of her hair as it went past to slam into the side of a high-rise. It blew out the windows in a cascade of glass, some of the small square pieces hitting Elena. Tiny jewels that were designed not to cut but they hurt all the same at that velocity.
Aodhan had already passed the wounded angel to another fighter, was turning to fire back at the enemy. Elena dropped out of the battle zone. Sparkle needed to fight, not worry about protecting her. She landed behind a row of shooters on a rooftop.
Glancing back toward the Tower, she said, Sorry, Archangel. Terror would’ve gripped him when he realized what she’d done, where she was. I’m fine, no damage.
The sea crashed into her mind, the salt spray of it a familiar kiss. I’m certain you just saved Aodhan’s life—bone-chilling fear is a price I’ll pay with no complaints. That bolt came from Philomena, one of the few of Lijuan’s generals who doesn’t depend on her mistress’s power. She’s strong enough to have ended him with that hard a hit.
Her hands shook as she brushed back her hair. That they could’ve lost Aodhan so quickly . . . Since I’m here anyway, she said, forcing calm because anything else could be deadly in battle, I’ll give someone a break.
Scanning the shooters, she noticed one who was moving a little slower than the others and tapped him on the shoulder. “Hiraz. You want a break?”
“Yes, Consort.” Sweat dripping down his temples, he turned away and let her take his position. He was wearing a camo green T-shirt and cargo pants in black. It was the first time she’d seen the senior vampire in anything but a button-down shirt and suit pants. The T-shirt had gone dark, was stuck to his skin.
The two things that hadn’t changed were the wedding ring on his right hand and the expert cut of his hair—currently black with streaks of bronze. She’d woken from the chrysalis to the news that his lover, Jenessa, had proposed.
He’d accepted on the condition they wait to marry until ten years after her transition to vampirism. In the interim, he’d wear the wedding ring she’d chosen on his right ring finger instead of his left. Elena didn’t think Jenessa would change her mind, but she liked Hiraz for thinking first of the woman he’d saved from a life on the streets, and not just his own need.
After catching his breath, he said, “My relief was badly wounded soon after taking her position.”
So he’d effectively done a double shift. It put the continued speed and accuracy of his shooting in a whole different light. “Get some rest,” she said to him. “I can spot you for a while.”
“I’ll be back soon. I just need a blood boost.” Shifting into a low crouch, he headed out of the live fire area.
Elena had already begun to pick off enemy fighters with precision shots of the surface-to-air weapon that could fire both single shots and a burst. It wasn’t her favorite, but she’d trained on it because she knew it’d be used during battle. She’d made sure to update that training the instant she recovered enough after the chrysalis.
Given that she was a—limited—backup power source for Raphael, Dmitri had fought hard to have her stay safe in the Tower and out of the fighting. Elena had pushed back as hard. That was not who she was—and having the consort and “hunter angel” MIA from the field of battle would demoralize their people.
Raphael had agreed with her.
Her archangel understood what drove her, she thought as she targeted an enemy angel aiming his crossbow at the wings of their fighters. He’d already badly wounded one; the angel was only alive because Aodhan had managed another air rescue. Before today, she hadn’t known how fast Sparkle could fly—his speed tended to be eclipsed by Bluebell’s.
“Fuck you, you asshole.” She fired. Her shot hit the enemy angel in the eye, exactly as she’d planned. Screaming, he spun in the air as red bled down his