Guild Hunter 04 - Archangel's Blade

“Illium will watch Valeria until Andreas’s men arrive.”
    Valeria made a low, pleading sound just as Honor looked out the window—to glimpse the astonishing sight of an angel with wings of silver-kissed blue coming to land on the verdant green of the lawn. “He’s . . .” Her breath rushed out of her. She’d seen still photos, even television images of the blue-winged angel, but none of it had done him justice. None of it could.
    The impact was even more startling up close. Staring at him as they met by the car, she took in the eyes of Venetian gold, the black hair dipped in shimmering blue, the face that was so pure in its beauty, he should’ve been too pretty. He wasn’t. He was simply the most beautiful male creature she had ever seen in her life.
    Meeting her gaze, he said, “I’ m Illium.”
    Her lips threatened to curve at the unashamed curiosity in those golden eyes. “Honor.”
    Dmitri, having taken a quick call on his cell phone, opened the driver’s-side door. “Valeria tries anything,” he told Illium, “cut her arms off.”
    The blue-winged angel didn’t look the least disturbed by the orddded to Dmitri’s obvious trust in him, it made it clear that, beauty or not, Illium was no pretty ornament. Though, she thought, catching the acute intelligence in that face as he spoke to Dmitri, he was fully capable of using the impact of his looks to his advantage.
    “Elena and Raphael are on their way,” he now said. “Be landing around six tonight.”
    Giving a crisp nod, Dmitri slid into the car. “Honor. Stop flirting with Illium. It only encourages his vanity.”
    “He’s right.” Illium walked around to open the passengerside door for her. “I’m also a gentleman, unlike some people.”
    As she got in the car, their eyes met and she wondered who he was beyond the startling beauty and the charm, this Illium with his wings of blue. “Thank you.”
    His responding look was assessing . . . almost gentle. “You’re not like the others.”
    “What?”
    Dmitri roared away before Illium had a chance to respond. When she glanced back, it was to see him watching them with a distinctly considering expression on his face, his wings spread to catch the early morning sunlight. Silver threads glittered, turning him into a living mirage. “I thought,” she said, after he disappeared from view, “angels were higher up in the food chain than vampires.” And yet Illium had taken orders from Dmitri.
    “He’s one of the Seven, Raphael’s elite guard,” Dmitri told her as they turned out of the gates. “I lead them.”
    Raphael’s second. The reason for the title was suddenly so much clearer. “I’ve never met an angel like Illium.” Regardless of his stunning appearance, he had seemed more “human” than any other immortal she had ever met.
    A hard glance. “Flirt with him if you want, Honor, but you’re mine.”
    The blunt words were a shock . . . and not. “I don’t know what this —between us—is,” she said, acknowledging the dark fire that had burned between them from the start, “but I do know that for my mental health, I need to stay far, far away from you.”
    “Too bad.” Said with the same lack of emotion with which he’d shot Valeria.
    It scared her. A sane response. What wasn’t sane was that she wanted to reach out and touch the brutal angle of his jaw, soften him somehow. Impossible. “If it comes down to it, I’ll die to hold on to my freedom,” she said, letting the wind whip her hair off her face. “I won’t ever be a prisoner again, yours or anyone else’s.” It was a vow she’d made as she lay a broken doll in a hospital bed, one she’d spill the dark red of heart’s blood to keep.
    Dmitri shifted gears with the ease of a man used to power. “I don’t intend to break you, Honor.” The harsh edge replaced by black silk, sinful and tantalizing as the rich scent of chocolate seeped into her very bones. “I intend to seduce you.”
    A burst of heat low in her body, a pulse of attraction that followed no rules of rational behavior . . . and an obsession she couldn’t fight. “Ever had a woman say no to you, Dmitri?”
    “Once.” He turned the corner with a smile that made her want to cup his face, trace those beautiful lips with her own. “I married her.”
     
     
    Dmitri wasn’t certain why he’d told Honor that, when he spoke of Ingrede to no one. Raphael alone knew, and the archangel respected his wish to keep silent on the matter,