"Great." Elena walked out from behind Raphael. "Join the queue."
Michaela folded her arms across her front, plumping up her breasts. "Do tell. It might be entertaining to see who gets to you first."
"Excuse me if entertaining you isn't at the top of my agenda." Oh, she could be brave now, when she knew Raphael needed her. After . . . well, she had so many other problems, it didn't seem worth the effort to mollify a pissy archangel.
Raphael curved his hand over her hip. Michaela's eyes zeroed in on the touch, the green heated with a spark of unhidden fury. Well, well, wasn't Ms. Angel a fast mover? According to several of the articles she'd found that first night, Michaela and Uram had been hot and heavy for years. But here her lover wasn't yet in his grave and the female archangel had already picked out a replacement.
"Elena,' " Raphael said, and she understood it was a command to behave. "We need to discuss certain aspects of the hunt."
Deciding she was too curious about Uram's descent into vampirehood to waste time antagonizing Michaela, she zipped her lips and waited.
Someone knocked at that moment and a second later, Jeeves entered with a gleaming silver tea and coffee setup, his minions pushing along a cart filled with food, which they placed on a beautiful wooden table by the windows.
"Will that be all, sire?"
"Yes, Montgomery. Make sure we're not disturbed unless it's one of the Seven."
With a nod, Montgomery left, closing the door behind himself. Elena went to the table and chose the only viable seat-at the head, with a bookshelf at her back. Michaela took the other end while Raphael remained standing. Elena wondered if Michaela was waiting to be served. Snorting inwardly at the idea, she poured her own coffee-and, because she was feeling generous, and okay, maybe because she wanted to irritate Michaela-Raphael's as well. Then she put down the carafe.
"So," she said, "tell me what I need to know to hunt this son of a bitch."
Michaela actually hissed. "You'll speak of him with respect. He is an ancient, so old your puny human mind can't imagine all that he's seen and done."
"Did you see what we found in that warehouse?" She put down the coffee, suddenly sick to her stomach. Those images were burned into her brain. Like the ones of that vampire who'd been tortured by the hate group, they would never leave. "He might be an ancient, but he's no longer anything close to sane. Seriously fucked up would be a better description."
Michaela swiped out a hand, sending her table setting crashing to the floor. "I won't help a human hunt him down like a rabid dog."
"You agreed." Raphael's knife blade of a voice. "Do you recant your vote?"
Tears shimmered in those green eyes. "I loved him."
Elena might've believed the stunning archangel had she not caught that earlier flash of fury. This woman loved nothing and no one but herself.
"Enough to die for him?" Raphael asked with smooth cruelty. "Now he sends you his victims' hearts. After he sates the first surge of bloodlust, it'll be your heart he desires."
Michaela wiped away a tear, making a show of coming to grips with herself. Most men would've fallen for her act hook, line, and sinker. "You're right," she whispered. "Forgive my emotional nature." A deep breath that pushed up her breasts to full advantage. "Perhaps I should return to Europe."
Elena knew from her research that Michaela held power over most of central Europe, though it was unclear where her boundary ended and Uram's began.
"No." The single word was resolute. "It's clear he followed you here-if you move, so will he. We may not be able to catch his trail again until it's too late."
"He's right," Elena said, wondering why Raphael hadn't shared Uram's fixation with Michaela earlier. Her guess was that it had something to do with the murders-perhaps a hunter could only track an archangel after he killed? But archangels killed many people. "We have a scent now and if he's circling around you, we have a general idea of where to look for him. I need to know the outline of that area-the places where you spend most of your time."
"I'll provide it," Raphael said. "I want you to listen to Michaela's story of how she received his offering and tell us how far Uram has devolved."
Elena looked at him, squinting against the brightness at his back. "How would I know?"
"You've hunted vampires who've devolved."
"Yes, but Uram is no vamp." She really wanted to know why and how in hell an archangel had gone so wrong. Her earlier anger at being told to run this blind rose anew.
"For the purpose of this hunt," Raphael said, steel in his tone, "he is. Michaela."
The female archangel leaned back in her chair. "I woke to the sound of something tapping against my window. I assumed it to be a trapped bird and got up to release it."
The image should've been incongruous with Michaela's selfish beauty, but there was a powerful sense of truth in her words. Perhaps, to be "human" in her eyes, you had to have wings.
"But," the archangel continued, "when I reached the window, I found no bird. As I was about to turn away, my eye fell on the lawn and I noticed a lump sitting in the center. I thought it was an animal that had crawled there to die." No shudder of distaste, rather a sense of sadness. Again, it felt true.