Guild Hunter 01 - Angels' Blood

logical, sensual in a way that spoke of blood and death.
    Raphael’s fingers on her shoulder. “Dmitri is talented.”
    “Don’t touch me.” The words dripped off her tongue like blades of ice. “Where are we?” She swiveled to face him, making a concerted effort not to go for a weapon.
    Blue flames in his eyes but no violence. “On the vampire floor—they use this for . . . well, you’ll see.”
    “Why do I need to? I know all there is to know about vampires.”
    A faint smile on his lips. “Then you won’t be surprised.” He offered her his arm. She refused to take it. His smile didn’t falter. “Such rebelliousness. Where did you inherit it? Certainly not from your parents.”
    “One more word about my parents and I don’t care if you break me into a million fucking pieces.” Said through gritted teeth. “I’ll cut out your heart and serve it to the street dogs for dinner.”
    He raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure I have a heart?” With that, he began to move down the corridor.
    Not wanting to follow a step behind, she caught up so they walked side by side. “A physical one, probably,” she said. “An emotional one? Not a chance.”
    “What does it take for you to truly fear?” He seemed genuinely curious.
    Once again, it appeared she’d skated the thin edge of danger and come out alive. But it had been a close call—she wondered how forgiving Raphael would be after she completed the job and was no longer of use. She wasn’t going to stick around to find out.
    “I was born a hunter,” she said, making a mental note to organize an escape hatch. Siberia sounded good. “Not many people know what that means, the inevitable consequences.”
    “Tell me.” He pushed through a glass door and waited until she’d passed before closing it. “When did you realize you had the ability to scent vampires?”
    “There was no realization.” She shrugged. “I could always do it. It took me until I was about five to understand it was something different, abnormal.” The word slipped out, her father’s word. She felt her mouth thin. “I thought everyone could do it.”
    “As a young angel might think everyone can fly.”
    Curiosity spiked out of the anger. “Yes.” So there were child angels. But where? “I knew our neighbor was a vampire before anyone else did. I accidentally ratted him out one day.” She still felt bad about that, though she’d only been a child at the time. “He was trying to pass as human.”
    Raphael’s face settled into lines of displeasure. “It would’ve been better had he given the chance to someone else. Why accept the gift of immortality if you wish to be human?”
    “I gotta agree with that one.” She shrugged. “Mr. Benson was forced to move out after a neighborhood uproar.”
    “Not a tolerant place, your childhood home.”
    “No.” And her father had been at the head of that intolerance. How it had humiliated him that his daughter was one of the monsters. “A few years later, I felt Slater Patalis brush by as he murdered his way across the country.” Her heart froze in her chest, chilled by the secret horror connected to that name.
    “One of our few mistakes.”
    Not really a mistake, she thought, not if he’d been normal going in. But she couldn’t say that without betraying Sara. “So you see, I’m used to fear. I grew up knowing the bogey-man lurked outside.”
    “You lie to me, Elena.” He stopped in front of a solid black door. “But I will let it pass. You’ll soon tell me the truth of why you dance with death so eagerly.”
    She wondered if he had Ariel and Mirabelle’s names in his files, if he knew the truth of the tragedy that had destroyed her mother and turned her father into a stranger. “You know what they say about being overconfident.”
    “Exactly.” A small nod. “So tonight, I’ll show you why those you call whores seek their vampire lovers.”
    “Nothing you do or say will convince me to change my mind.” She scowled. “They’re little more than drug addicts.”
    “Such obstinance,” he murmured, and pushed open the door.
    Whispered sounds, laughter, the tinkle of glass. It flowed out like an invitation. Raphael’s eyes dared her to step inside. Fool that she was, she accepted the challenge and—slipping a knife from an arm sheath into her palm—walked in, piercingly aware of the archangel at her back, the naked vulnerability of her spine . . . until her mouth dropped open in shock.
    The vampires