Raphael got out of bed and flexed his wing. "The hunter?"
"Bound in another room."
The wing was back to normal except for one thing. He looked down at the inner pattern. The smooth brushstrokes of gold had been interrupted at the point where Elena's bullet had torn through. Now the bottom half of that wing bore a unique pattern in gold on white-an explosion from a central point. He smiled. So, he would carry the mark of Elena's burst of violence.
"Sire?" Dmitri's voice was questioning as he noted the smile.
Raphael continued to look down at the wing, at the mark caused by the Quiet. It would serve as a useful reminder. "Did you hurt her, Dmitri?" He glanced at his second, noting the disheveled hair, the wrinkled clothing.
"No." The vampire's lips curved upward in a feral smile. "I thought you'd enjoy that pleasure."
Raphael touched Elena's mind. She was asleep, exhausted from a night spent attempting to break her bonds. "This is a battle between me and the hunter. No one else will interfere. Take care the others know that."
Dmitri couldn't hide his surprise. "You won't punish her? Why?"
Raphael answered to no one, but Dmitri had been with him longer than any other. "Because I took the first shot. And she is mortal."
The vampire's expression remained unconvinced. "I like Elena, but if she escapes punishment, others might question your power."
"Make sure they understand that Elena occupies a very special place in the scheme of things. Anyone else who dares challenge me will soon wish I'd shown them the same mercy I showed Germaine."
Dmitri's face paled. "May I ask one question?"
He waited in silent permission.
"Why were you so badly injured?" Dmitri pulled out a gun he'd had tucked into the small of his back. "I checked the bullet she used-it should've only caused minor damage, given her a head start of ten minutes at most."
Then she will kill you. She will make you mortal.
"I needed to be injured," he responded obliquely. "It was the answer to a question."
Dmitri looked frustrated. "Can it happen again?"
"I'll make sure it doesn't." He took pity on the leader of his Seven. "Do not worry, Dmitri-you won't have to watch the city shudder under the rule of another archangel. Not for another eternity."
"I've seen what they can do." The vampire's eyes swirled with the rivers of memory. "I was under Neha's tender mercies for a hundred years. Why didn't you stop me when I rebelled against your authority?"
"You were two hundred years old," Raphael pointed out, heading toward the bathroom. "Old enough to choose."
Dmitri snorted. "Old enough to be cocky with no real knowledge to back it up. A damn pup with delusions of grandeur." A pause. "Have you never wondered-if I'm a spy?"
"If I had, you'd be dead."
Dmitri smiled and there was a loyalty in his eyes that surprised Raphael each time he saw it. The vampire was incredibly powerful, could've set up a stronghold of his own, but he chose to give his life over to an archangel. "Now I will ask you a question, Dmitri."
"Sire."
"Why do you think I intend to spare Elena's life?"
"You need her to track Uram," Dmitri responded. "And . . . there is something about her that fascinates you. Not much fascinates an immortal."
"Feeling the stirrings of ennui?"
"I see its edge on the horizon-how do you fight it?"
Raphael wasn't sure he had been fighting it. "As you say, very little fascinates an immortal."
"Ah." Dmitri's smile turned sexual in the way of vampires. "So you must savor that which fascinates."