Prologue

Raphael POV:

It all happens so fast he barely understands, even though he knows that it's his hands reaching out for her, his fangs sinking into the demon's poisonous hide. She was such a broken mess of a thing, lying on the concrete ground with a Manticore pawing at her hip, hungry for blood but lacking the finesse to make a clean kill. Maybe that's what drove him to it – he certainly didn't care if she died, but he'd be dammed (twice over) if she suffered through the night, wishing for death.

With a growl he tears again into the struggling side of the demon, his hands like iron chains wrapped around the tail with its hundred knives, the lion head with its jaws of steel. He doesn't need to remind himself not to swallow the blood that fills his mouth, he's spitting it out every few seconds to clear the taste. There's a triumph in the kill though and that he allows himself to enjoy.

Behind him someone splutters and coughs like they've had demons down their throat too, and he drops the carcass hastily, slipping down beside her. He hadn't forgotten about Clary, the little angel girl, but he'd been neglecting her and now she would pay. It's a red beauty that only a vampire can truly appreciate to have blood spilling into the gutter, flaming hair fanning outwards and pale skin growing colder by the second. A horrific beauty, a nightmare, but a beauty all the same.

"Clary," he urges her, the regal little voice in the back of his mind silenced, "can you hear me?"

"Raph- Raphael," is all she manages, but he can tell she's surprised. After all, he's no hero, no knight in shining armour. He's the last person she'd expect as her saviour, right up there with the Demons themselves.

"Hold on," Raphael says and wraps his arms around her – half tortured and half delighted to find her blood so close to him, touching his skin. His hotel is no more than a five minute journey and he grabs a gutter one handed, hoisting them up onto a rooftop. The view is brilliant, the sky laid open for them, but the true wonder is the scent rising from her aching wounds, from the pulse at her neck. Even as he sets of at a dead sprint, soaring from rooftop to rooftop he wants to hold onto the moment forever, so that he can always remember the euphoria of being the guardian of an Angel.

"Raphael," she says again, weak but alive, "where…."

"We're going to my place, via the exciting route," he jumps again and she sucks in a breathe, suddenly realising their dizzying height, "but don't worry, you're safe."

He drops gracefully into his street, pulling her more securely against him, making her squirm.

"Is that really necessary?" She hisses at him and he shushes her, leaning down to whisper and hiding his fangs from curious eyes as he strides to the Hotel confidently.

"You Nephilim really bounce back, don't you? And yes, I can hardly parade you, covered in blood, about the town. They think you're drunk and they probably think I'm taking you back for sex, but since that's both legal and fairly moral, they'll let it pass."

"Moral?"

"I bothered to get you insensible. That's good for this side of the neighbourhood." He passes the grate in the floor and goes to the back door, bordered up decades ago but cut open by his coven. Opening it is tricky enough with both hands so he places her carefully on the grass and unhooks the wood carefully – on the outside it looks jammed in place but each screw is carefully too short, each plank looped under a board so that when undone they spring free easily. Instead of pulling open a single door he pulls open half the décor, but it's still much quicker than the grate and staircase. He picks Clary back up bridle-style (making a quick joke about thresholds that she slaps him for) and then closes it carefully behind him once he's carried her in.

"Sorry, damn door, takes forever but no wolf has worked it out yet. They still come charging up the narrow staircase every time they want to attack us, you know."

"Luke wouldn't attack you." It's a statement, but her voice is wavering, the adrenaline draining from her.

"Did I mention him? No, it's the other packs, those with more scores to settle with us - though they come away with half their comrades revenged and twice the life debts to pay." He shakes his head at the folly and starts a quick jog as soon as they hit flat ground, talking to her all the while – though proud voices override everything in his mind, since when did he talk in full sentences, or answer questions instead of giving commands?

"Lily?" He calls, aware that the scrambling at the corners could mean only one thing, that his coven had caught her scent. "Get down here, and bring a med box!"

She responds to the command instantly as he knew she would – she's not much of a healer but her strong self-control means that she can treat Clary's injuries without biting her, which is more important than being good with plants. He would be at a loss to even know where to start.

Marching through the halls he snaps at any vampire who dares come close, taking her through to the Transformation Room where they usually bury their dead and wait for them to rise again. He will move her later to his own rooms. It has a hospital bed and he places her in there before snapping his fingers at Lily to start the work. He wants to stay, to watch over her, but he can feel a hundred pairs of eyes trained on the door, waiting to see if he's weak enough to cave to his desires.

Not that he desires her – well, no more than any other beautiful girl. Even in his sudden craze to please her, he knows that he wouldn't be doing this if she wasn't useful, if saving her wouldn't buy him favour in Idris.

He brushes his hand over the flames of her hair as Lily patches her up one scratch at a time, feels how smooth and soft each strand is, and then he steps back. Walking out on her he goes to face the music, one hundred younglings vying for his attention, all begging for a drop of the sweet girl's blood.

"Go," he snarls at the newbies hanging round the corners – the older ones know not to touch her. A prize brought in by one vampire can only be taken by a vampire of higher rank, and since he's the leader… she's his, for as long as he wishes to keep her.

A/N: I hand around chocolate brownies and sexy vampires to all who have finished this chapter! Thank you so much!

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