Guild Hunter 04 - Archangel's Blade

don’t know that term.” Though she’d heard “vamp-whore” used to describe those who were addicted to the kiss of a vampire.
    “Blood junkies come in pairs,” Dmitri explained. “The only way they can get aroused enough to have sex is if a vampire feeds from either one or both in turn. So in effect it’s a threesome—only a subset of the Made finds this even mildly attractive.”
    Honor nodded. “The majority of mortals don’t come close to the beauty bestowed by vampirism.”
    “The deal breaker is that the vampire is relegated to being a conduit, not the center.”
    No old vampire would enjoy that. “The woman we’re going to see—”
    “Jiana. She’s not known to be into the junkie scene, but there’s no doubt she’s been indulging lately,” he said, making his way to the Bronx once they cleared the bridge. “Look in the dashboard.”
    Reaching forward, she opened the compartment to reveal an envelope. Inside were a number of large, glossy black-and-white photographs. “When were these taken?”
    “Early this morning.”
    The first one was of a fresh-faced twosome, blond and scrubbed, straight out of a casting call for the “All-American Couple”—the only thing missing was the dog. Hand in hand, they walked up the steps of a gracious old home, wisteria falling from the balconies and the world swathed in black.
    The next shot was of the two leaving the house. Both were flushed, their lips swollen, hair messed up—the man’s shirt was buttoned wrong while the woman was missing her thin floral scarf. “Is this something a wife does for her husband and vice versa?”
    “They have their own subculture,” Dmitri told her. “Marry within it. Makes everything go smoother.”
    Putting away the photos, she tried to get her head around the idea as Dmitri drove them out of the Bronx into Westchester and toward Connecticut. It was as they were passing from Greenwich into Stamford that she remembered something she’d meant to mention about another strange subculture. “I had an e-mail from Detective Santiago,” she said, realizing she felt no dread in spite of the fact that she’d been held and brutalized a bare hour outside of this city—the area was so different as to be on another planet. “They’ve already arrested someone for the murder yesterday morning.”
    “The victim’s boyfriend and another member of the club,” Dmitri said. “I made it a point to keep an eye on the situation.”
    Honor knew that that subculture would soon be getting a visit from the scary kind of vampire. “Old-fashioned sex and jealousy, according to Santiago.” All three had been involved in a sexual relationship with each other.
    “And a good dose of stupidity.” With that pitiless statement, he turned in through a set of open gates that fronted a long, winding drive lined with mature sycamores. The Ferrari was almost to the door when it opened to disgorge another couple. Honor winced.
    Catching it, Dmitri laughed. “Appetites don’t decrease with age, Honor. You should know that.”
    “It’s easier to accept with vampires,” she murmured, watching the elderly pair get into their aging car. “I always think of the younger ones as having an extended adolescence.” Stepping out after the couple drove away, she drew in a breath of the fresh spring air. “It’s a pretty place.” More trees backed the house, while the drive featured a delicate fountain. Landscaped lawns and gardens flowed off on both sides and into the distance, beds of colorful blooms nodding in the wind that whispered down the slight rise to the right.
    “Michaela, too,” Dmitri said, coming around the car to join her by the fountain, “has the most gracious of homes.”
    Honor had only ever seen the female archangel in the media, but there was no denying that Michaela was both beautiful and vicious. “What about Favashi?” she asked and it was only because she was looking right at Dmitri that she caught the tightening of his jaw.
    “That one looks soft and gentle, and all the while, she’s grinding her enemies beneath her boot.” A brutal summation.
    Not long ago, she’d discovered Dmitri had once had a wife he had loved. Now she realized he might have had an archangelic lover. “Bad breakup?” Jealousy turned her words razor sharp.
    A raised eyebrow. “Perceptive, little rabbit.”
    Yes, he knew how to push her buttons. But oddly enough, she knew how to push his, too. “I guess being dumped by an archangel