It was time to explore this familiar place that had become foreign, this home that was suddenly new again.ĭiving down from the balcony, she swept across Manhattan on air currents kissed by the cool bite of spring. Her chest, tight for so long, relaxed, and she stretched her wings out to their greatest width.
A fusion of scents-spice and smoke, human and vampire, earthy and sophisticated-hit her with the wild fever of a welcoming rainstorm. She was stronger.įlaring out those wings, she took a deep breath of the air of home. Now, she was one of those angels, perched high atop a balcony that had no railing, nothing to prevent a deadly fall.Įxcept of course, she would no longer fall.
Once Elena had watched angels take flight from the light-filled column of the Tower as she sat in front of the distant window of her cherished apartment. Swathed in the silken shadows of deepest night, New York was the same.
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