Why did you not, even as a hunter? I would've thought it a vulnerability.

The wound was too close to the surface today, but she answered anyway.My hair's like my mother's. I was the only one of her four children to retain the color as I grew. Ari and Belle had both gone a golden blonde like Jeffrey, while Beth was a throwback to their paternal grandmother, her hair a gorgeous strawberry blonde.

So, we are both our mother's shadows.

Knowing that what she cherished might be to him a curse, she brushed her lips over his jaw in silent comfort. "Go faster."

Raphael swooped up and down without warning, making her laugh in sheer joy as she locked her legs around his. She didn't realize she'd expanded her own wings until they began to catch air. "Raphael!"

"Pull them in," he said. "Otherwise our landing will be rough."

Thinking it through step by step, she contracted her wings - her muscles gave a mild twinge at going against the wind, but nothing to worry about. "They want to open again."

"Instinct." Angling them lower, he flared out his own wings to their greatest width and brought them to a gentle, precise landing on a small mountain plateau overlooking a shallow valley filled with snow.

"This place looks different from the land close to the Refuge." Its edges softened by time, the valley appeared as if it would cradle rather than crush.

"The snow here tends to be soft," Raphael said. "That's why it's a good place for flight training."

Her heart skipped a beat. "Now?" She'd thought he planned only to take her flying in his arms.

"Now."

Excitement a tattoo against her ribs, she stepped to the lip of the plateau, and glanced down.

And down.

Vertigo had never been a problem, but - "It suddenly looks a lot farther away now that I know I'll be falling toward it."

"You, afraid?" The touch of his wings against her own, a shimmer of gold that she caught with the corner of her eye.

Her lips twitched. "Are you dusting me, Archangel?"

"Angel dust looks beautiful coming off wings in the dark." A kiss pressed to her jaw as he shifted to stand behind her, the aphrodisiac dust a taste of unadulterated sex. "As you fly, it'll sink into your skin, readying your body for me."

"You're all talk," she murmured, feeling him settle his hands firmly about her waist.

"So, what do I do now?"

"The only way to learn to fly, is to fly." He pushed her off the edge of the cliff.

Fear obliterated everything but the need to survive. Her wings spread, catching air, slowing her descent as her muscles screamed at the sudden strain. Raphael's shirt twisted around her, baring her stomach to the elements. She didn't care, more concerned about getting her wings to work. But it was too late, the ground rushing up at terminal velocity.

No snow was that soft - she was still going to hit hard enough to splinter bones.

Hands gripping her under her arms, lifting her up with effortless strength.Close your wings.

She obeyed, though the adrenaline pumping through her body made her want to do the exact opposite. The instant her feet touched the ground, she swiveled around to push him in the chest, her palms sizzling at the contact with his bare skin. "That's your idea of teaching? I could've been splattered from here to Manhattan!"

"You were never in any danger." His eyes gleamed with laughter and that just made her madder. "That's how young angels learn to fly - they're pushed out of the aeries before they have a chance to develop a fear of it."

Her fury came to a screeching halt, though her heart continued to ricochet violently in her chest. "You push babies out into thin air?"

"How do you think birds learn to fly?"

"Huh." She folded her arms, the shirt clammy against her sweat-soaked skin. "You know, I'm an adult - I already know fear."

"That's why I didn't give you any warning. Instinct did what it was supposed to."

Wiping her hands across her cheeks in an effort to cool them down, she took a deep breath, tied the tails of the shirt at her side and walked back. "Okay, push me again."

"You can step off yourself."

Elena had long ago learned to keep her fears to herself, seeing them only as weaknesses that could be used against her, but this time, there was nothing to do but admit it. "I'm too chickenshit."

Raphael pressed a kiss to her nape, put his hands on her waist again. "This time, snap your wings out as soon as possible."

Nodding, she was barely in position when he pushed. It took her at least three seconds to snap out her wings. Too slow. Raphael brought her up again. And again. And again.

"Once more," she said, her muscles crying with exhaustion. "I need to get it."

Raphael's face was all austere lines, but he nodded. "Once more."

Knowing her body would give out even if her will wouldn't, Elena took a few steps back from the edge. "It won't be as bad if I run."

"Remember, you must unfold your wings the instant you become airborne, or the downward momentum will be too strong to stop."

She nodded, pushing sweat-soaked strands of hair off her face. Then, filling her mind with the image of her body in flight, she began to race over the plateau. She went airborne seconds later, and it was only when she felt the hard pull of muscle in her shoulders that she realized her wings were out. There was even, for a single moment, a slight upward drive before she began to fall again. Except this time, she felt a sense of control.

Her landing was nowhere even remotely close to Raphael's grace. She came down bruisingly hard on her knees, her momentum throwing her face forward, but she was grinning when she lifted that face from the powder. "I did it!"

The archangel crouching in front of her had eyes filled with a fierce kind of pride. "I had no doubts you would." He watched her dust off her face. "You'll hurt as if you've been beaten tomorrow, but you must continue to train."

"I know. Same principle as applies to normal training."

"However, if you feel true pain, let me know." Fingers on her chin. "It's better to wait for minor injuries to heal than turn them into major ones."

"Especially since we're on a deadline." She met his gaze, so brilliant even in the snowy dark. "You think Lijuan will use my inexperience in handling my new body against me."

A curt nod as he released her chin. "She'll use every weapon she can."

"Why?"

"A break from ennui." His lips flattened into a thin line. "If asked, she'll say it's about power, about politics, but in the end, it's about nothing but her own amusement. You're a new toy, one that's caught her interest."

"And we must play." Aching in every muscle, she got to her feet.

Raphael rose with her, seeming not to feel the cold at all, in spite of the fact that he was magnificently shirtless. "At another time, I may have declined the offer of the ball" - an unspoken reminder that he, too, was an archangel - "but we must attend this one."

She nodded. "You need to see how far Lijuan's devolved." According to what she'd heard, the oldest of the archangels was no longer willing to leave her homeland, even to meet with the Cadre.

"If she unleashes her reborn on the world, there'll be no going back."

The idea of the dead walking, their souls trapped in those horrific shells made Elena shiver. As she did, fine traces of gold glittered in the air. "Will you fly for me, Raphael?"

she asked, deciding to hold on to the wonder tonight. "I want to see the angel dust coming off your wings."

Raphael flared out his wings, making her breath catch. The patterns that marked his wings as unique were indistinct in the dark, but she knew the bright sunburst on his left wing down to the last streak, the last line. It was a scar, made by a weapon she'd shot.

He'd been so very cold that night. "Will you ever go Quiet again?" she found herself asking.

His answer was potent with memory, with the knowledge of how close he'd come to the precipice of evil. "The need would have to be very great." And then he lifted off in a tempest of the finest snow and wind, his power making her dig her feet into the powder to keep herself upright. Ecstasy soaked into her tongue a moment later, and she realized he'd flickered the aphrodisiac dust on her as he rose.

The special blend.

Her entire body beginning to hum with need, she watched as he rose ever higher, becoming a silhouette in the night sky. When he started to descend, it was in a series of slow, almost lazy dives, as if he was riding the air currents. Streamers of gold tracked his every movement, a wondrous light show against the velvet black sky.

It hit her again, right in the heart - how could this amazing, powerful being be hers? And yet he was. Perhaps he wasn't hers, would never be hers, in the way a mortal man might have been, but then, she'd never really fit well with those mortal men. They'd found her hunter strength off-putting, had called her unfeminine to her face.You're amazing , she thought up to her archangel.

He heard her, because his next dive was steep, the climb up even steeper.

Show-off.

Another steep dive, so hard and fast that her breath caught. She reached out as if to catch him as he plummeted, her heart racing a hundred miles an hour. He pulled up with less than a meter to spare between him and the unyielding earth, the wind of his ascent hitting her as he lifted back up.

She knew before she tasted it that he'd showered her with more of the dust. Every exposed part of her body tingled . . . including the entire span of her wings, which she'd spread out in preparation for flight, though she was far too inexperienced to execute a vertical takeoff like Raphael.I hope all this dust isn't just a tease, because that might put me in a killing frame of mind. She could already feel the erotic impact, the pulse between her thighs lush with need.

The scent of the sea swept over her as he answered.Your muscles will feel much better after a bath and a massage.

It was all her mind needed to mount a sensual assault filled with images of the last time they'd been in a bath together. His fingers driving into her, his gorgeous body bare for her perusal, his arousal heavy and demanding. She drew in a trembling breath as her breasts pushed against the damp fabric of his shirt, the tips aching at even that fleeting contact. Lifting her hand, she dropped it before she could touch herself. Everything felt too sensitive, too needy.I think it's time to go home. She imbued her mental words with the raw sexual craving that had her skin so tight, so exquisitely tender.

Raphael's response was to land behind her, his arms coming around her in a steely hold as he swiveled her to face him. Starving for the taste of him, she wrapped her arms around his neck, snapped her wings tight to her back and held on for the ride.

They rose through lingering traces of angel dust, each fine mote kicking her further into a kind of heat she wasn't sure she could survive. Groaning, she pressed her mouth to the uncompromising angle of his jaw, licking at his skin, sucking and tasting as he flew them home. Against her belly, he was hard, deliciously tempting. She wanted to close her hand around that heavy heat, but had to satisfy herself with biting kisses along his jaw.

He didn't stop her, but his body grew increasingly more taut, his muscles electric with strain by the time they landed on the balcony outside their bedroom. She felt him slide open the doors, shut them after they entered. And then the archangel lost control. She was being turned with a hard move that left no room for argument, the shirt ripped off her like so much mist.