Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 112287 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 561(@200wpm)___ 449(@250wpm)___ 374(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 112287 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 561(@200wpm)___ 449(@250wpm)___ 374(@300wpm)
The older woman’s tone was as competent and as businesslike as the tight black curls she kept cropped close to her skull. Not even a hint of being awestruck by the presence of the Archangel of New York.
Elena wasn’t surprised. After spending so much time in the hospital, she’d learned that nurses—especially ones as experienced as this one—were just built differently.
“Thank you, Dionne,” she said to the forty-something woman. “My stepmother should be coming in a couple of hours to have breakfast with Dad.”
“We’ll look after him until then,” Dionne promised with a smile, her accent rich with the rhythms of her birthplace of Ghana. “I’ve already told him I’m going to tattle to Gwen if he tries to wrangle, bribe, or buy a phone off anyone.”
Chuckling, Elena rose from her seat and preceded Raphael through the door. In the corridor, several staff members halted in their tracks. They’d become used to Elena’s presence—and she had once been mortal, after all—but seeing the Archangel of freaking New York? Yeah, no.
Panic, awe, angelstruck devotion, their faces froze.
Dionne, however, was a star. She ordered nurses, doctors, and orderlies alike to “stop catching flies and get back to your actual jobs” in a tone that made it clear she wasn’t kidding around. It was a measure of the respect in which she was held that everyone but the angelstruck orderly scuttled away.
“He’ll come out of it after we leave,” Elena told the scowling nurse. “It’s like a trance.”
“Huh. Got trained on it at nursing school—never seen it in person before, though.”
Leaving the orderly staring after them in utmost devotion, Dionne walked Elena and Raphael to the same emergency exit through which Raphael had entered. “Goes right outside,” she told Elena. “One of those old-school metal ladders there, but I suppose you can just fly off the balcony. It’s not exactly roomy, though.”
“We will have no trouble,” Raphael assured her.
After she deactivated the alarm and opened the door, Raphael tugged a feather off his wing, handed it to her. “Shall you ever need a favor from the Archangel of New York, it is yours.”
Dionne stared at the feather, then lifted her head, and though she was clearly having difficulty with the cold burn of Raphael’s power, she held her ground. “I’m just doing my job, Archangel.” She didn’t take the feather. “I don’t need payment.”
“It is not payment,” Raphael said with a gentleness he usually reserved for children. “It is a gesture of thanks.”
When the nurse hesitated, Elena touched her fingers to the other woman’s arm. “Keep the feather as a memory for your grandchildren. That’s some story you have to tell, about how you snuck an archangel onto a hospital ward.” Because no one would mistake this feather as belonging to anyone but Raphael.
Dionne’s face lit up, and she finally accepted the feather that glittered white-gold even in the hospital lighting. “I’ll do just that. Thank you, Archangel. And if you ever need another secret entry, just call me.”
It was a warm end to the visit, and they were soon in the air. Decisions had to be made. But first, she had a question: Is Marduk still above Times Square, you think?
Oh yes. Raphael turned his wings in that direction. He sends me a comment now and then. His latest was about the naked painted man who believes himself an insect born into a human body.
Wow, he’s getting the full Times Square experience.
Raphael’s voice crashed into her mind. It’s very odd to have him in the city, an archangel who I can say with everything in me has no desire for territorial incursion. Neither does he play any other political games.
Makes sense if he doesn’t want to be awake. Elena swept down below Raphael.
He seems to believe his consort will be fine without him by her side for a period.
I suppose after eons in Sleep, a break of a few hundred years is an annoyance that can be shrugged off.
That was when she spotted Marduk.
46
The strange archangel really was doing a good impression of being a gargoyle. He’d positioned himself on the corner of a building in such a way that he was swathed in shadows, invisible to anyone who didn’t know what to look for. Elena had only spotted him because she always looked for the Legion, even knowing they wouldn’t be there.
Though they were too far apart for their eyes to meet, she felt him watching her as she and Raphael flew on. The hairs on her nape rose, her instincts not knowing how to handle this angel who wasn’t an angel but a creature far more primal. I just saw him. To your left, top floor of that new high-rise with the square cube thing at the top.
I see him. You know, Guild Hunter, he murmured, in the grand scheme of all the things another archangel could be doing in my territory, emulating a gargoyle is minor.