Guild Hunter 01 - Angels' Blood

God, it hurt . Rubbing a fist over her heart, she walked into the bathroom and turned the shower to scalding.
    It was tempting to take her time, to pamper herself, but those girls deserved better. So she made quick work of it, washing her hair with her favorite shampoo and using an antibacterial soap on her body. The angel dust did wash off . . . mostly. Odd glints kept hitting her as she got out of the shower, towel-dried her hair and body, then stepped into a pair of black cotton panties, a black bra, fresh cargo pants, again in black, and a dark blue T-shirt. It wasn’t yet cold enough for long sleeves during the day, but she made a note to pack a windbreaker.
    Socks and boots went on next, before she picked up a hair-brush. Running it quickly through her hair, she tugged the wet mass back into a tight ponytail and spent the next few minutes stocking up on weapons from her secret stash. Feeling clean and well armed at least, even if she couldn’t expunge the sickening images of slaughter from her mind, she threw some things in an overnight bag, then pushed back the curtains. Raphael was nowhere to be seen.
    Her hand crept toward her gun and she had it in hand before she opened the door. The message was written boldly on the gel she used to coat the balcony wall. The car is waiting below. Which meant, she realized, that her front door wasn’t boarded up. A small mercy.
    Shoving the gun back under her T-shirt, she locked the doors and grabbed the overnight bag. She was about to walk out when she remembered she’d been out of touch since hanging up on Ransom the night before. Picking up the landline, she called Sara. “I’m alive and that’s all I can say.”
    “Ellie, what the hell is going on? I’ve got reports of angels flying all over the city, of missing girls but no bodies, and—”
    “I can’t talk about it.”
    “Shit, it’s true. Killer vampire.”
    Elena didn’t say anything, figuring it was better to let the rumor circulate. She’d never lied to Sara and she wasn’t about to start now. Even doing it by implication went against the grain.
    “Hon, you need a pullout? We have places no angel knows about.”
    Elena trusted the Guild but she couldn’t run from this. It was personal now. Those girls . . . “No. I need to finish this.” Uram had to be stopped.
    “You know I’m here for you.”
    She swallowed the knot in her throat. “I’ll call you when I can. Tell Ransom for me, and don’t worry.”
    “I’m your best friend. It’s my job to worry. Check under your pillow before you leave.”
    Ending the call, she took a steadying breath and did as directed. Her lips curved—Sara had left her a present. Fortified, she walked out into the ruin of her living room. Raphael had apparently put the plastic back in place, but she knew it wouldn’t last. It didn’t matter. The room was too damaged for anything less than a major overhaul. But she would put it back the way it had been.
    She knew how to rebuild.
    I have no desire to house an abomination under my roof.
    Her stuff in boxes on the street, thrown out with the garbage in the aftermath of that final, brutal fight with her father. She’d walked out. Jeffrey had punished her for it by erasing her from his life. Amazingly, it had been Beth who’d called her, Beth who’d helped her salvage what the rain and snow hadn’t destroyed. None of the treasures of her childhood had survived—those, Jeffrey had thrown onto a backyard fire and burned beyond recognition.
    A single tear escaped her control. She dashed it away before it could touch her cheek. “I’ll fix it.” It was a promise to herself. And she would replace that glass with a solid wall. She didn’t want to see the angels anymore.
    Even as she thought that, she knew it for a lie.
    Raphael was in her blood, a deadly, addictive drug. But that didn’t mean she’d make it easy for him when the time came to bury the Cadre’s secrets. “First you’ll have to catch me, angel boy.” Adrenaline turned her grim smile into a challenge.

25
     
    The car was idling at the curb, a sleek black panther with a vampire leaning against its gleaming paint. Another old one, she realized at once. He was wearing sunglasses with a black-on-black suit, his chocolate-dark hair cut like some GQ model’s, but his lips . . . they were dangerous. Bitable. Sensual. “I’ve been told not to hurt you.” He opened the back door.
    She dumped her bag inside, frowning inwardly at the odd