Exclusive Extra: Deleted Scene from Archangel's Storm
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Deleted scene from Archangel's Storm
This scene was deleted from an early draft of Archangel’s Storm. It has spoilers for previous books in the series, so if you haven’t yet read those, save this to read later. Also, please note that as this scene was deleted early on, it will no longer fit perfectly into the book’s timeline and/or series continuity. Enjoy it as an unedited outtake, without attempting to link it to the series storyline.
A Wedding Breakfast
by Nalini Singh
Setting: Elena and Raphael’s Enclave home, after Dmitri and Honor’s Wedding
Elena caught Raphael’s eye as he entered the dining room where Montgomery and his staff had laid out a lavish champagne breakfast. No one would guess they’d had a bare three hours’ notice. Trouble? she asked, using their mental connection.
His answer was crystal clear. Yes. Eris has been murdered.
Dear God. Elena’s mind flashed to the memory of Neha attempting to shield her daughter, and of the lethal gold of her gaze after it was all over.
We may have eliminated the immediate danger—Jason goes to her now.
The black-winged angel entered the room at that instant. It surprised her—she’d felt his dislike of being around so many people, had expected him to disappear as soon as he had the chance. Now, however, he moved through the room with the shadowy grace of the spymaster he was, to touch Dmitri on the shoulder where the leader of the Seven sat with Honor, Illium, and Ashwini.
Dmitri rose, his gaze flashing to Raphael, but Raphael shook his head and came to where Elena sat on the other side of the table, with Sara, Deacon, Zoe and another member of the Seven. Strangely enough, the deadly and often sardonic Venom appeared charmed by Sara and Deacon's little girl—enough to take off his sunglasses and show her his eyes.
Instead of screaming, Zoe’s own eyes went huge and she reached out to brush her fingertips over Venom’s lashes, which Elena suddenly realized, were exquisitely long and curly. Venom has pretty eyelashes.
Don’t say so to Illium—he will be quite jealous.
Her lips quirked up at the corners as her archangel ran his fingers over her nape before taking a seat beside her, his wings overlapping her own.
A second later, Jason finished his quiet conversation with Dmitri and left, after clasping arms with Dmitri in a way that reminded her forcibly that these men had fought in fields of battle together. Dmitri knows something is wrong.
I told Jason to share the details—otherwise, Dmitri would not let it be. Now that he’s aware the situation is under control, he will give himself leave to enjoy this day.
Dmitri retook his seat then, smiled at Honor.
It could be annoying, how you have a way of being right.
I am an archangel. I am always right.
Elena laughed under her breath and took a sip from a flute of champagne so effervescent and bright, she was certain it had to be criminally expensive. “Did you know Illium hates champagne?”
“A failing to be sure.” Wings heavy and warm against her, he looked to where Zoe and Venom were having an intense low-voiced conversation. “Your daughter has a champion it seems, in one of my Seven.” The words were directed at Deacon.
The former Slayer, bogeyman of rogue guild hunters, was unperturbed. “She’s Sara’s baby and Elena’s god-daughter,” he said, as if that explained everything.
Raphael’s smile was deep. “Indeed.”
Venom glanced up at that moment, met Raphael’s gaze with the slitted viper-green of his own. “Zoe would be most obliged if you would give her a feather for her collection.”
Silent, Raphael turned his attention to Zoe. Elena knew blooded hunters who’d be terrified to meet that gaze, but Zoe just gave a shy, dimpled smile. It was something she’d noticed since their return to New York—the most vulnerable were never scared of Raphael, and that was as fascinating a paradox as it was inexplicable.
Because, though he played host today, he was nothing close to human, a being of such violent power that even most of the immortals at this gathering, much less the mortals had given him a wide berth. Many of her hunter friends were still dubious about her relationship with him, but Elena knew he would never harm her. Loving Raphael was the truest thing in her life.
Now, he crooked a finger at Zoe. The little girl looked first to her mother and father. At Sara’s nod, she scrambled out of her chair and ran over to stand beside Raphael, no one missing the fact that Deacon had gone predator-still, watchful.
“Touch?” Zoe asked, holding her hand above his wing.
She has been taught well.
Of course, Elena said; Sara knew full well how sensitive angels were about their wings. I’ve been ordered not to teach her bad manners by allowing her to touch me as she will—though I did point out that I’m a doting godmother and therefore not subject to such requirements.
Since she is so impeccably behaved, you have obviously not been the bad influence you wish to be.
Give me a few more years.
“You may touch,” Raphael said aloud, his voice gentle in a way she only ever heard with the very young. “As for the feather, I seem to recall you already have at least five of mine.”
Zoe’s smile was of pure glee. “Six!”
“I see.” She has no fear, this one. I pity her father. “I have in fact, hidden a seventh feather in this room for you.”
Gasping, Zoe ran back to her mother, had an urgent conversation and then she was off on her search. The Guild Director looked at Raphael across the table. “How many children have you known?”
Raphael’s answer was unexpected. “I once caught Illium when he fell out of the sky while he was learning to fly.”
The idea of beautiful, strong Illium as a baby angel made Elena laugh, even as she saw Deacon shift to keep Zoe in his line of sight as she searched the corners of the room with determined industriousness. Sara’s eyes connected with Elena’s across the table, an unspoken thought passing between them. Neither one of them could’ve ever expected such a scene when Elena first met Raphael, especially after he went into the Quiet and became a monster who had forced Deacon and Sara to barricade themselves in their home, guns at the ready and Zoe sent out of the city for safekeeping.
She didn’t say anything about Zoe being safe here—Deacon was her father, and he loved her. Of course he would watch over her.
Get out and stay out!
She shoved away that ugly memory as it arose. Her own father had no place here, at this happy occasion. Stretching her wing a little, so it brushed against Raphael’s, she luxuriated in the feeling of being home, of being wanted and loved. That feeling only intensified when Montgomery appeared at her elbow, leaning down to ask, “Shall we open the doors to the ballroom, Guild Hunter?”
“Yes,” she said, having only recently become aware that the high central core of the house could be further expanded to create a single sprawling space. “I think Dmitri and Honor want to wait to cut the cake till after the dancing.”
Montgomery disappeared to organize things, and Elena glanced at Raphael. “Did you see what a well-behaved consort I’m being?”
“I’m half afraid my hunter has been possessed.”
“Don’t get used to this kind of behavior,” she warned, as in front of her, the doors were folded back to expose the ballroom decorated with dramatic black silk and blood-red roses, held in place by the knives of a guild hunter. Elena grinned. “Perfect.”
The loud cheers of the assembled group made it clear the approval was universal.
Dmitri stood, held his hand out to Honor, swept her into the roses and silk, their movements so well matched, it was as if they had been dancing for centuries.
© Copyright 2012 by Nalini Singh
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