Archangel's Heart

23

Ten minutes later, she, Aodhan, Xander, and Valerius were in the skies above Lumia, the miniature still with Aodhan. Elena wanted to scream with impatience but she kept it together. This was a normal thing for warriors to do when trapped in a place where they had few other outlets—fly, stay strong, get some exercise. And she had to be normal right now, because people were watching.

Could be it was paranoia on her part, but she didn’t think so: people were watching.

Always.

Beside her, Xander did an acrobatic flip that had her clapping. “Almost as good as Bluebell,” she called out.

He grinned, handsome and cocky. “Illium is famous for his skills.”

Together, the four of them flew for about an hour, and at one point, she was aware of Aodhan and Valerius flying wing to wing, discussing something. It wasn’t until they’d landed in a large courtyard that Aodhan came to her. Bending to speak with his lips close to her ear, his breath warm against her skin, he said, “Valerius believes Xander is being monitored.”

“Why?” Yes, he was Alexander’s grandson, but surely no one was idiotic enough to think to go after him? Alexander had kept his sanity after losing his son, but he’d raze the world in a rage if he lost his grandson.

“Likely the same reason we are being monitored,” Aodhan replied, his jaw a grim line. “I want to examine your and Raphael’s quarters again.”

Elena nodded. “I still get the creeps if I step into the bedroom to retrieve stuff from the wardrobe.”

“Consort.” Xander bowed in front of her, the movement unexpectedly elegant. “Would you and Aodhan do me and General Valerius the honor of accompanying us for lunch?”

“Only if you promise to call me Elena.”

His pupils dilated to fill his irises, even as a shy delight warmed his skin from within. “Thank you, but my grandfather would be displeased.”

Elena sighed. “Guild Hunter, then.”

“Guild Hunter,” he said with a smile.

“Let’s go grab lunch.” She was starving after missing breakfast.

That lunch was laid out for them on the large dining table in the Atrium. The only other person in the cavernous room right now was Riker, Michaela’s pet vampire propping up the wall beside the inner chamber. Waiting for his mistress.

Elena had a feeling he’d been here since Michaela went in.

Ignoring him when he blew her a kiss, she took in the room in daylight. She’d noticed the glass dome of the ceiling last night, now saw the glass was carved with complex patterns that scattered sunshine on the walls of the room, turning the stone into a living artwork that would change throughout the day.

“Wow,” she said. “I might not have artistry in my veins, but even I know that’s incredible work.”

Aodhan was also staring rapt at the walls. “This is one of Ophelia’s pieces. She was renowned for her light work.”

“She Asleep?”

“I don’t know,” Aodhan said. “She was long gone from the world by the time of my birth, only her art left behind to tell us of her gift.”

A groan of sound, the large doors of the inner chamber opening.

The first to exit was Michaela, a cruel kind of amusement writ large on her features. She was wearing a bodysuit in deepest red, with a skirt of the same color that had a large split along one thigh that revealed her boot-clad leg with every step. Giving the table straining with food a disdainful glance and not even bothering to sharpen her verbal knives on Elena, she walked straight to the other door and out.

Riker followed at her heels.

Astaad exited next, followed Michaela out. His expression was more pained than anything, his fingers rubbing his temples as if to ease a headache.

Other archangels left the inner chamber one by one and they all, each and every one, headed out of the Atrium. Elena didn’t blame them—she’d have searched for clear air, too, if she’d been trapped inside half the day.

Raphael emerged after Titus, Elijah at his side.

Archangel, she said. You want to fly? Then she noticed that his wings weren’t solid anymore. Did that happen in the meeting?

No, just now. He spread them, to gasps from those who’d never before seen those wings of white fire.

Even Elijah looked impressed.

Caliane and Alexander exited as Raphael closed his wings. Caliane’s face went white for an instant. Whatever she said to Raphael, it wasn’t audible, and then Raphael was turning to say something to her in return, his head leaning toward her own.

Mother and son, Elena thought, that’s who they are at this instant, not archangel and Ancient.

Walking around them, Alexander went straight to Valerius and Xander. “Come,” he said. “I need fresh air.”

Elijah was the next to pass. “I assume my consort is in the Gallery?” he said, the power of him shoving against Elena’s senses.

Sometimes, she wondered how Hannah could possibly be with someone so other, then she’d realize Raphael was exactly the same. “You guess right.”

“No, you do not, Eli.” Hannah’s gentle voice from behind them, a smile in her tone. “I was hoping the Cadre would set itself free for a break at midday.” Placing her hands on her consort’s chest, she rose on tiptoe and brushed her lips over his.

They were astonishingly beautiful together, Elijah’s golden hair glinting in the sunlight that came in through the dome and the sharply handsome lines of his face looking down into Hannah’s, her skin glowing with life and her elegance innate, her eyes a luminous dark. What made it even more beautiful were the small smiles on their faces, the smiles of two people who had loved one another so long that they needed to make no big declarations.

“I will paint them,” Aodhan whispered to Elena. “Just like this, with the light from Ophelia’s work scattering a filigree over their bodies and Eli’s wings unfolding unconsciously as if to curve around Hannah.”

“Ah, you must love me then, Hannahbelle.” Elijah’s smile grew deeper, the golden brown of his eyes as luminous as his consort’s. “To have torn yourself away from the art of which you’ve been speaking since the instant we heard of this meeting.”

Hannah’s response was silent, but whatever she said, it made Elijah laugh and slide one hand to her lower back as they walked out, Cristiano joining them at the door.

“Hannahbelle?” she asked her archangel when he came to stand in front of her, Caliane moving past him to meet Tasha, who’d just arrived.

“I have never heard anyone call her that,” Raphael said. But I have never heard anyone else call you Elena-mine either, hbeebti.

You have a point. It delighted her that even after all these centuries, Hannah and Elijah could play with one another. Is your mom okay? She hadn’t looked okay.

Raphael’s expression was difficult to read. Seeing my wings ignited a memory of pain. My father—he died in a blaze of fire.

Yeah, about that. She shot a glance at Tasha. Can you reach Tasha with your mind?

Raphael raised an eyebrow. I am an archangel.

Elena didn’t tease him like she usually did—there was an edginess in his tone that said he was at the end of his patience. Not with her, with whatever had been going on in the meeting chamber. Tell Tasha to make sure she doesn’t take your mother down a particular path if they go to visit the Gallery. Aodhan can give you the exact mental map—there’s a painting of Nadiel’s death there.

Raphael’s features grew hard and cold. If there is, the Luminata should’ve covered it as a mark of respect. His eyes locked with Aodhan’s, then seconds later, he looked toward Tasha.

It was only because Elena was watching her that she noticed the very slight jerk of Tasha’s shoulders. Caliane was facing away from them, her attention on something Tasha was saying, and didn’t seem to notice. Looking back at Elena, Raphael cupped her cheek. Thank you for caring for my mother’s heart, Elena. Even to the extent of asking me to speak with Tasha.

“Come on, Archangel, I think you need some air.”

“Sire, she has only eaten two energy bars today.”

Elena’s jaw fell open. Swiveling to face Aodhan, she said, “Did you just nark on me?”

A small smile, hidden laughter. “It won’t take you long to refuel if you choose high-energy items.”

“Elena.” Hauling her to the table on that growl of sound, Raphael picked up a tray of meat and handed it to her. “Eat.”

“Ugh.” She put the tray down, grabbed a plate, and began to fill it up with her own choices. “If you two are going to stand there and loom, it’ll give me indigestion. Eat something.”

They did, though most of their attention was on making sure her plate was never empty. Feeling as if she’d put on ten pounds by the time she couldn’t take anymore, she groaned and leaned against Raphael as they headed out. “I will definitely need a boost to get into the air.”

“That, hbeebti, is never a hardship.”

They were in the sky soon afterward, Aodhan beside them and Elena’s gown zipped up once again. After releasing Elena, Raphael flew high—and in a direction where there were no other wings. Most of the archangels had to have taken off, but the majority were no longer anywhere in sight, though she could see glints of Alexander’s silver, and Michaela’s bronze.

She, Raphael, and Aodhan aimed for the mountain where she and Raphael had landed the previous night. When she began to tire, she and Aodhan landed on the mountaintop to wait for Raphael to burn off his energy. She couldn’t even see him now, he’d gone so high, but she could feel him. About to ask Aodhan for the miniature—finally!—something made her glance up.

Just in time to go flat on the ground with a yell as Raphael skimmed over her and Aodhan’s heads, having dropped silently at a speed she couldn’t even imagine. “Raphael!” she yelled when she scrambled up, a shocked-appearing Aodhan still seated on the ground in front of her. Come down here right now, Archangel!

Raphael landed in a glory of wings of white fire. “I was testing my speed.”

“No, you weren’t.” Folding her arms, she tapped her foot. “You were dive-bombing us. Admit it.”

Smile heartbreaking, he pushed back his hair and walked over to hold out a hand to Aodhan. The angel took it without hesitation, allowed Raphael to pull him up. “Have you been possessed by Illium, sire?” he asked in a disbelieving tone.

“He did seem to be having a lot of fun, so I decided to try it.” Dropping Aodhan’s hand, Raphael thrust his own hand into Elena’s hair, sending her remaining blade sticks to the earth, and brought his mouth down on top of hers.

Her body sighed, her blood heated, and she had the tip of a blade to his throat even as his tongue licked over hers. Ignoring it, his lips still curved over hers, he just kissed her deeper. And since she had zero defenses against him when he got like this, she slid away the blade and took the kiss. She’d seen him at dawn but it felt as if she’d been missing him forever.

Breathless when he finally released her, she tried to muster up a scowl. “You got my gown all dusty.”

“I’ll brush off the dust.” He ran a hand over her breast, down to the curve of her hip, the action protected from view by the way he’d curved his wings around them.

Her toes curled. “You were faster than fast,” she said as he folded back his wings. “I didn’t even feel the whistle of wind passing over your wings.” Glancing at where Aodhan stood some distance away, giving them privacy and watching out for threats, she called out, “Aodhan! Did you have any idea Raphael was heading for us?”

Shaking his head, Aodhan made his way back to them through the golden grass. “Your wings are of pure silence.”

“One hell of an advantage.” Elena reached out to play her fingers through the white fire of them—they did feel solid in a sense, but there were no feathers. It didn’t burn, was cool to the touch, and . . . “It tastes of you.” Like the crashing sea and the wild wind and power that tasted of life.

Fingers still in her hair, Raphael shook his head. “It tastes of us.”

Her eyes widened before she nodded. “Yes.” The wildfire that lived in him, it was formed of both of them, a strange alchemy no one who knew could understand. “I don’t think Lijuan could hurt your wings if these were your wings during a battle.”

“An intriguing idea, but unfortunately, I can’t control when they come and go.” His jaw tensed. “Lijuan is far ahead of me in that sense, appears to be able to take her noncorporeal form at will.”

Elena clenched her stomach, Aodhan going motionless beside them.

“The Cadre has decided that Zhou Lijuan is alive?” he asked.

Raphael shook his head. “We have decided nothing.” It was a gritted-out statement. “The answers are all there, hashed out in the first ten minutes. Favashi to take over Lijuan’s territory with Caliane offering assistance. But we must have consensus for this decision and Charisemnon is refusing to budge. He insists we leave Lijuan to run her territory as she sees fit.”

Elena bared her teeth; she wanted to stab the Archangel of Northern Africa in the eyes.

“Unfortunately,” Raphael said, moving his hand to curve it around the side of her neck, “we cannot cut off his head and just vote on his behalf until it grows back, or one of us may have tried it by now.”

“Is Charisemnon the only holdout?” She began to run her hand on the underside of his fiery wings.

A long exhale before Raphael said, “He is the most recalcitrant. Astaad continues to struggle with interfering in another archangel’s territory but is unwilling to let things go on as they are, especially given Jason’s information.”

His Legion mark sparked with white fire, glowing bright for a second, and when the mark settled, Elena felt feathers under her touch. His wings were once more white gold, but the left wing bore an astonishing scar of darker gold created when she shot him back during what might’ve been the scariest moment of her life.

He’d bled so much, this man who wasn’t supposed to be able to be hurt.

“Enough about that.” Tugging her close, he pressed a kiss to her temple. “Did you two discover anything?”

Elena forgot all about Lijuan and bloodlust and stabbing out Charisemnon’s eyes. “Aodhan.”

Reaching under the straps that crisscrossed his chest over his leathers, providing a brace for the double sword sheaths he wore on his back, Aodhan pulled out first the blade stick he’d borrowed, then the miniature. He held on to the former, putting the latter on the open hand she held out.