long afterward, Elena ate, then flew across to the front line to relieve a gunner who’d stayed up overnight. “I’ll take the day,” she told him. “Get some rest, and you need blood, too.” The male was too pale, his face thinner than was his normal.
When he protested that he was fine, she pointed out that he’d be useless as a gunner if he fainted mid-shot.
“I do not faint.” Arms folded, eyes narrowed, affront in every breath.
Jeez, four-hundred-year-old vamps could be so tetchy. “Then do it for me,” she said. “I need to feel useful.”
“Consort, no one could ask more from you.” Arms unfolding, his expression earnest. “You fight by our side every day.”
Despite his response, her words did convince him to take the break. That done, she turned her attention to another vampire. “You, too.” She pointed a finger. “Take the time while things are quiet. It’s all going to go to hell sooner rather than later.”
Setting down her weapon, the experienced vampire with whom Elena regularly played poker, sniffed at her. “Ellie, did you have a shower?” A gasp.
Elena waved her hand from her body toward the other woman. “Smell my lemony freshness. You, too, can have this scent if you leave before Her Evilness wakes.”
“I’m gone.”
Seeing that others who’d taken a rest break were arriving to relieve the remainder of the night watch, she settled in to her spot. It was raining on this side of the city, but the thin drizzle didn’t penetrate her jacket or pants. She’d walked up to this roof after landing lower down on a balcony invisible to Lijuan’s forces. At which point, she’d retracted her wings and covered her hair under a black knit cap.
The energy fissures didn’t often happen on her face, so if she kept the knit cap snugged down and her hands in her gloves, no one from Lijuan’s side should make her. Should that change, she’d return to the Tower.
She was here to help, not draw danger down on their troops.
Raphael, meanwhile, was in a meeting with Elijah and Michaela. The three archangels needed to make strategic plans about how best to utilize their energies in battle. For one, while it was clear Michaela could hurt Lijuan a little, her strikes would have more impact if she waited until Raphael had softened up the goddess of fricking zombies with wildfire.
They couldn’t afford to waste any advantage.
A strange calm hung over the city. A shooter would fire a potshot from Lijuan’s side every so often, and Raphael’s side would retaliate, but for the most part, things were eerie in their stillness.
Everyone was waiting for the last battle.
68
Raphael was standing on the Tower roof under the moonless night sky, watching his consort fly home after a long day spent as a gunner, when he received an unexpected message from Aodhan. Sire. Unless my eyes deceive me, Titus is heading your way.
Given Aodhan’s current position, that was the wrong direction for the Archangel of Southern Africa to have flown to New York, but then, he must have known or guessed that Lijuan controlled the other approach. Communications hadn’t become problematic until well after Lijuan’s initial assault.
Continue to watch, Raphael ordered. Report if anything appears untoward. He swept off the Tower roof, his wings slicing through the chill night air. Eli, it’s possible Titus may be closing in on the city. Will you stand sentry while I head that way?
Consider it done.
He angled his wings so his flight path would intersect with Elena’s. Come, hbeebti. We may be about to welcome an old friend.
Her face lit up when he shared the news.
The night air was cold over their bodies as they flew on, but only Elena’s wings glowed against the black. The energy fissures in her skin had stopped around midday, the same time that the glow began to fade from his body.
Their cells had absorbed the energies, made it their own. They would be the strongest they’d ever been when the war drums beat again.
A shadowy presence in the distance that resolved into large wings, an angel in flight.
“Well met, stripling!” boomed a familiar voice not long afterward.
“My old teacher, it is good to see you.” They clasped forearms in the way of warriors.
“Titus, you’re hurt.” Elena’s eyes were on the splint on Titus’s other arm, the bandage wrapped around it dusty from his travels. Raphael knew it must’ve been a very bad break for Titus to have allowed it to be splinted.
“That dog’s excrement of an archangel was