Archangel's War (Guild Hunter #12) - Nalini Singh Page 0,181

pushed things, because too much water and it’d wash away their own side, but the two seemed to have calculated it just right.

They’d had Caliane standing by to create a shield to protect their own, but it wasn’t needed. Michaela had been told to stay back, keep her power in reserve for a direct strike against Lijuan, while Elijah hung to the far back, his job to protect their flank until Lijuan was sighted—in case the Archangel of China decided to pull another noncorporeal ambush.

Raphael waited for Lijuan.

As with all archangelic powers, the Cadre couldn’t keep this up endlessly, but when the ground stopped shaking and the rain and ice stopped, and the tornados halted, the seas retreating, Lijuan’s forces were in disarray. Buildings had collapsed into melted shapes straight out of a Salvador Dali painting. Roads no longer existed.

A massive chunk of the ground troops had disappeared into the ocean, as had large numbers of angels who’d been battered to the ground. Yet their sheer numbers meant a vast army remained.

They fought back with devoted fury.

Lijuan’s surviving generals shot waves of obsidian fire, each one aiming themself at an archangel. After having injured Elijah, they knew they could disable the Cadre; take out enough archangels and New York lost any advantage it had in launching the attack now, before Lijuan was ready.

Raphael had planned to seed the sky with wildfire to try to unmask her, but live battle had a way of interfering with strategic plans; too many of their own fighters fought at too many different elevations in the sky. Elena sent up a prayer to any actual gods that Lijuan hadn’t fed enough to go noncorporeal.

Her prayers went unheard.

Elena had just shot out the wings of an enemy angel who was trying to hack at Aodhan’s wings when Lijuan appeared without warning behind Zanaya. It also put the Archangel of China at the farthest point from Raphael. Archangel!

Even as he reacted to make it to that location, Lijuan grabbed Zanaya by the upper arms and bit down on her neck. Zanaya twisted with a snarl, attempting to reach for her sword and kicking back with her feet as mini-tornados appeared around Lijuan . . . but then her body seemed to slow down, her reactions stiffen.

The tornados faded.

Lijuan was sucking the life out of an Ancient and doing it at vicious speed.

Elena willed her body to go there, help Zanaya, but the speed still didn’t work with archangels.

Though Raphael arrived at the location of the attack in a matter of seconds, his wings pure white fire, Lijuan turned noncorporeal again before he could hit her with wildfire . . . and Zanaya fell from the sky, her wings crumpled and her body far smaller than it should’ve been. Alexander caught her partway, cradling her close as he flew her toward the Tower.

Elena’s heart pounded. Archangel, how do we find her? She could be at any elevation, at any location. Always before, she’d had a single target. Now she had many. Raphael couldn’t spread his wildfire that wide without wasting the one weapon that might halt the Queen of Death.

Wildfire ringed his hands. I must remain within equal distance of as many of the Cadre as I can.

Lijuan appeared beside Alexander.

Raphael threw wildfire in her direction without a single hesitation. It hit, crackling energy through her system, but she went noncorporeal a heartbeat later. And Raphael realized that feeding on Zanaya had done what they feared; it had supercharged her.

Thank you for bringing me so much POWER! Laughter in Lijuan’s mental voice, a kind of girlish delight that was disturbing in its facsimile of innocence.

She appeared behind Neha this time, but Galen—nearby—bought the Archangel of India a moment to react by slicing his broadsword down toward Lijuan’s neck. She flicked him away and the heavily built weapons-master smashed into a building, but that minor delay gave Neha a critical second to turn. She struck out with the curved edge of one kukri blade, managed a deep slice across Lijuan’s cheek.

A flap of skin and flesh slapped against her jaw, a wet red hole where her cheek should be. Blood splurted out . . . then vanished. The wound had closed by the time Raphael threw wildfire in her direction. She laughed and was gone before the wildfire hit her, and the bolt exploded into a knot of fighters, taking out several from both sides.

Raphael’s rage was a cold thing with a heart of fire. This was always her