Archangel's War Page 18

“What we did, it changed both of us.” His heart in her chest. Her heart in fragments in his system. Their minds locked together in the dream.

Leaving the infirmary, the vials tucked safely into a zippered pocket of the hip-length black leather jacket that Beth had sent over, she found herself drawn to the balcony at the end of the hall. Phantom wings tugged suddenly at her back, a maddening muscle echo her body couldn’t forget.

Gritting her teeth, she continued on. The balcony had no railing—and Elena not only didn’t have wings, her bone structure wasn’t strong enough to withstand any kind of a real impact, far less one from so high. She’d splatter herself into pieces.

Regardless, she stepped into the doorway . . . and lifted an eyebrow. “Did you summon me?”

“You were speaking of blood.” Under the haze of a misty rain, the Primary was a crouched gargoyle, gray and motionless but for his mouth.

Oddly, Elena wasn’t disturbed by his knowledge. The Legion were a hum at the back of her mind now, there without intruding. “You listened in?”

“No. We just feel it.”

That made no sense but this was the Legion. Making sense wasn’t their strong suit. “So, any input on the glowing cells situation?”

“The sire’s blood traveled across the bed and was absorbed by the chrysalis. We watched it. We did not interfere.”

And that was after the damn insane archangel had given her a piece of his heart. All that archangelic blood inside her when Raphael released violent energy meant for an archangel. Powered by his blood, her body had obviously stolen some . . . but what was it doing with it? “Anything else happen while we were napping?”

“Right before you woke, the filaments that formed the chrysalis grew and grew, spreading like spidersilk across Raphael and the room.” His bat-like wings stayed motionless even as the wind riffled his hair. “Before then, a long time before, we had a thought that the earth would help you, so we brought the soil from your garden and it was dark and rich, and we placed it over the chrysalis and the sire’s sleeping body.”

Elena thought back—they’d woken on such dark soil. A remnant of the Legion’s offering? “I remember bringing that soil into my greenhouse.” She smiled at the memory of Illium’s complaints about how hauling bags of soil was beneath his dignity—but he’d done it anyway, on the condition she plant some bluebells in the soil.

Her hands itched. “How is your garden? Can I come play?”

Welcome. Welcome. Welcome. Elena. Come. Come. We wait.

So much excitement that her head hurt but she didn’t censure them. They’d missed her, these strange beings unlike any others in the world. She’d missed them, too. “Give me a few minutes.”

The journey to the ground floor was the easy part—all she had to do was get in the elevator. Even crossing the grass to the Legion building didn’t take much out of her—she was definitely stronger after the psychedelic sex mojo with Raphael. Fine droplets of water beaded on her jacket, clung to her lashes, the cool, damp day beautiful to her. Then she reached the bottom of the wall of vines that led up to the entrance to the Legion’s home . . . and reality hit with a backhanded slap.

Visit’ll have to wait. Things ached inside her, the need for the earth curling her fingers into her palms. I’ll fall and break my butt right now.

Elena. Elena. Elena. One of the Legion landed beside her. Come.

She went to repeat that she couldn’t when she realized he was waving for her to move to the right of the climbing wall. Keeping her questions to herself, she followed him around the corner and, after he lifted it up, under a heavy weight of vines. There, hidden behind those thick ropes was a door that had been opened from the inside.

“Hot damn.” Soul flowering at the humid warmth that whispered outward from the doorway, she slipped in. The Legion fighter came after her. As she watched, he locked the door securely behind him—it involved two iron bars and a third crossbar.

The first thing she did was take off her boots and socks and curl her toes into the grass underfoot. The second was to shrug off her jacket. Fall was locked out, summer in full bloom within. She stood in a grove of orange trees plump with unseasonal fruit. Plucking a ripe one, she used one of her knives to cut it into pieces and held out a slice to the Legion fighter.

The Legion didn’t need to eat, but anytime she gave them food, they accepted.

The fighter took the slice, looked at it with intense interest, then ate it. Peel and all.

Grinning, she disposed of her own peels at the foot of a tree, where it would become part of the earth once again, then just walked around, breathing in the smell of the earth, and of green growing things.

Elena. Come.

Heading toward the two members of the Legion who’d spoken to her, she saw an empty garden lush with dark soil. A row of potted seedlings sat beside it. “Is that for me?”

For you. We make. For you.

Her throat closed up. “Thank you.” Going down to her knees, she sank her fingers into the soil and sighed. “I needed this so much.”

Humming quietly under her breath, she began to plant. She was aware of the Legion around her, above her. One was a helpful presence that passed her the potted seedlings, while another flew down with a tray on which sat a large bottle of Nisia’s new concoction, meant to complement the IV calories. Elena drank it without complaint.

Once she’d planted her small garden to her satisfaction, she helped weed the other gardens on this floor, and checked the orange trees for any indication of damaging insect activity. The Legion brought her berries to eat, flowers to look at, acting like small children excited to show her their favorite things. This was the paradox of the Legion—they were infinite in age, yet at times, innocent as children.

Deeply content and less tired than she’d expected by the time she finished gardening, she said good-bye to the Legion before exiting via the secret entrance to return to the Tower. Suhani, the receptionist, had been away from her desk when Elena left the Tower, but now beamed and waved at her, so Elena walked over.

The vampire’s smile deepened, but there was sadness in the brown of her gaze. Suhani had seen Elena come through these doors the very first time, when the Archangel of New York had summoned Guild Hunter Elena Deveraux to his tower. Later, she’d seen Elena reappear with wings, and now the wings were gone.

Yeah, it was going to be an adjustment for all of them.

About to say hello, Elena got distracted by the utterly lovely bonsai on the polished black marble counter behind which Suhani held sway. “This is glorious work.” The Japanese red maple had been painstakingly shaped into its miniature form with intricate delicacy, the color of the leaves an astonishing and flawless scarlet.

“Oh, thank you.” Suhani blushed under the burnished brown of her skin, her hair a deep brown-black that she always wore in a sleek knot. “I used to do it a hundred years ago, then fell out of practice, but I have a few that have survived my benign neglect.”

Elena had never asked Suhani’s exact age, but felt the cool and deadly weight of that age in her bones. Suhani might work reception, but she was no less than lethal. She was also a dedicated member of the “Bring back Hunter’s Prey” lobby, and had a scrapbook about the show that she’d pull out at any opportunity.

“You have a true talent. Can I . . . ?” Elena lifted a hand.

“Of course!” Bright, happy eyes. “If you really like it, I would be honored to gift you one from my collection. I have a sakura that—” Her smile faded as the maple shot up two inches. Right under Elena’s hand.

Elena jerked back. But the maple, it grew . . . and grew.

20

Suhani stumbled out of her leather executive chair and back as roots burst out of the glazed ceramic pot in which the bonsai had been contained. Those roots fell over the side of the counter and seemed to be searching for soil, of which there was none in the marble and gloss of the lobby.

That didn’t stop the tree. Branches grew longer and stronger. The trunk thickened and rose toward the ceiling. Leaves expanded in size.

When it did finally stop, it was with a shake that sent a perfect scarlet leaf to land on Elena’s boot. The maple now stood eight feet above the counter. Which hadn’t cracked despite the massive new weight.

Suhani made a wordless noise.

Elena hunched up her shoulders. “I am so sorry.”

Coming around the counter, her steps neat and clipped due to the constriction of her tailored designer dress of deep pink, the receptionist bent back her head to take in the tree. “It’s real?” A whisper. “I’m not hallucinating?”

Not certain herself, Elena reached out to touch a tree root. It was hard and solid under her palm. Alive. “Real.”

Suhani stretched out her hand, hesitated. But she was obviously freaked out enough that she needed confirmation. “Real.” A breath as she jerked back her hand, huge eyes on Elena. “What do I do?”

Elena examined the tree again. “It’s healthy. Shame to let it die. I’ll ask the Legion to see if they can move it.” She winced. “Sorry about the mess in your workspace, and damn, your computer’s on the floor with a cracked screen.” She crossed mental fingers that Suhani had backed up her files. “I’ll make sure it’s all replaced.”

Suhani didn’t appear to have heard; her eyes were fixated on the maple. “No one will believe me. I don’t believe me.”

Elena wasn’t sure she believed her own eyes, either. Er, Archangel? Are you in the Tower?

The rain in her mind, the crashing sea. Yes. I’m on my way to speak to your Bluebell.

Um, mind coming down to the lobby first?

I am intrigued.

Elena stared at the tree again, trying to wrap her mind around the fact that she’d somehow put it on steroids. Then her nape prickled. Of course Raphael hadn’t taken the elevator. He’d simply flown to the ground and entered from the outside. “So,” she said without turning, “I did a thing.”