Raphael's expression remained unchanged. "I don't let anyone break my toys."
It should've pissed her off, but she smiled. "Wow, I feel all mushy inside."
"Who were you speaking with?"
"Possessive much?"
He cupped her cheek, his hand wet, his hold uncompromising. "I don't share my toys either."
"Watch it," she murmured, twisting in her seat until her feet touched the sodden earth outside. "I might decide to be irritated. I have a question."
Silence.
"Were they virgins?"
"How did you know?"
"Evil is predictable." A lie. Because sometimes evil was an insidious thief that crept in and stole what you most treasured, leaving only echoes against a wall.
A thin shadow, swinging almost gently. Like on a swing.
Raphael rubbed his thumb over her lower lip. "I see nightmares in your eyes again."
"And I see sex in yours."
He rose, tugging her out of the car and trapping her with her back to the opening. Behind him, his wings flared out, gleaming with rain wetness. There was an edge to that sensual mouth, a touch of savagery in the way it curved.
Elena leaned forward and put her arms around his neck, letting herself luxuriate in the sheer strength of him. Today, she was going to break all the rules. Forget about sleeping with a vamp, she was going straight to the top and to hell with it. "So, how does an archangel do it?"
A gust of wind buffeted them, stealing away her words. But Raphael had heard. Leaning in, he brushed his lips over hers. "I haven't agreed yet."
She blinked. Then scowled as he drew back. "What, you're playing hard to get now?"
He turned. "Come, Elena. I need you healthy."
Cursing him under her breath, she shut the car door-the interior was already soaked-and walked toward the house, Raphael a quiet presence by her side. But not restful. No, he was quiet like a jaguar was quiet. Lethal danger momentarily contained. She was still scowling when they reached the door.
The butler held it open. "I've prepared the bath, sir." A glance at her, a hint of curiosity. "Madam."
Raphael dismissed Jeeves with a look and the butler melted away into the woodwork. "The bath is on the next floor."
She headed up the stairs, stomping more than stepping. He'd teased her to fever pitch, but now, today, when she actually needed the release, he was playing with her. Exactly as you did with a toy, she realized. Fine, if he wanted it that way, she'd focus on work. "Were you able to confirm if he had sex with the women?"
"Yes, but only at the town house. The warehouse victims were all untouched in that way-that's why we believe the others were also virgin before he took them." He was at her back, following close enough that his breath whispered over her nape as they reached the top. "Down the hall, third door to your left."
"Much obliged," she said sarcastically, noticing that there was nothing but air beyond the railing to her right-as if the core of the house was one huge, open space.
"Does it mean something-the sexual contact?"
"Could be. But there were no marks on the bodies aside from the death wounds, so that part may have been consensual." Archangels were charismatic, sexy, quite unbelievably compelling. Uram may have turned into a monster, but outside, he probably appeared just as attractive as the Archangel of New York. No, she thought immediately, Raphael was in a league of his own.
"Or it was after death."
She was too tired to be disgusted. "Possible." Reaching the third door, she put her hand on the doorknob. "He may have sublimated the feeding urge with sex for a small amount of time. But only blood's going to satisfy him now." Her hand tightened. "More women are going to die because I lost the scent."
"But less than if you'd never been born," he said, tone matter-of-fact. "I've lived centuries, Elena. Two or three hundred deaths is a small price to pay to stop one of the bloodborn."
Two or three hundred?!