Archangel's Legion (Guild Hunter #6)(125)

Now, he turned to her, his leathers dusty from the work. “Astaad contacted me earlier. Once we are in a position to welcome guests, he has indicated a willingness to visit.”

Elena had no arguments with that, the other archangel having done the entire world a giant favor. It had been approximately fifteen minutes after they’d returned to the Tower after the retreat of Lijuan’s troops that Raphael had received a very polite call from the Archangel of the Pacific Isles. “Raphael,” he’d said, “I wished to let you know I destroyed the cargo planes heading in your direction. I cannot believe Lijuan would attempt to fly such unclean creatures over my territory.”

As it turned out, the holds had been stuffed with the last of Lijuan’s hideous reborn so far as anyone knew. “Tell him to bring Mele along,” Elena said, thinking she might actually start to enjoy this whole hostess deal if she kept getting to pick guests she liked. “Oh, you’ll probably get an official update from Elijah, but I was talking to Hannah and she says they’ve dug out the final few stubborn reborn from their territory.”

“Good. Our territory is also clean, and I think I’ll speak to Eli about certain ongoing safeguards to make sure that doesn’t change.”

Elena nodded and drew in the crisp, bright winter air as the sounds of horns drifted up from the cabs below. God, it felt good to have her city back again. It might be a little battered, but hell if anyone was going to keep it—and the people who called it home—down. “I can’t believe the Tower repairs were done so quickly.”

The winter sun creating that illusion of white fire across his wings she wasn’t sure was an illusion at all, Raphael walked to the edge of the building. “It’s the symbol of my power.”

As such, Elena thought, it could never appear weak.

“Of course,” Raphael added, “the Legion is an extraordinary workforce.”

“Yeah.” His consort came to stand beside him, arms folded as she scowled at the sight of two Legion fighters landing on a Tower balcony. “You’re sure they’re not secretly planning to take over the city?”

“Yes, I feel it inside.” Stroking his knuckles gently down the side of her face, the heavy bruise she’d taken on her jaw during the final fighting yet healing, he said, “You feel it, too, my suspicious consort.”

She unfolded her arms. “It’s like a tiny but steady pulse at the back of my mind, this awareness the Legion belong to us.” Eyes of silver-gray turning to him, face solemn. “I know if I think a little too hard about the Primary, he’ll appear in front of me, ready to do my bidding. And while I might be starting to get a handle on the consort thing, I’m not ready to deal with that kind of power. It’s yours.”

“Yes,” he said, “it’s mine.” Elena didn’t have the experience to manage a force such as the Legion, and more, she shouldn’t have to. Already, she was taking on far more of the responsibilities of a consort than anyone could’ve expected of her so soon into her immortality. “But I hope you’ll give me the benefit of your advice as I learn to deal with my new army.”

A twitch of her lips, her wing sweeping across his in a silent caress. “Try to shut me up.” Leaning into him, she said, “Why you, why us? I keep trying to get my head around that.”

“A question to which the Primary may even now give us an answer,” Raphael said, as the leader of the Legion landed in front of them.

The male’s eyes remained translucent but for that ring of blue, the effect oddly beautiful, according to Raphael’s consort. His hair, though, had turned totally black. His skin, too, was no longer the shade of death, but glowed golden with health, and his leathery wings had become a beaten gold except for the part where they grew out of his back.

There they were a black that echoed Elena’s wings, the color bleeding into midnight blue, which then flowed into the beaten gold. The metamorphosis of the rest of the Legion was slower but no less fascinating a process. Day by day, they were all becoming painted in color—and the palette was the same.

“Sire,” the Primary now said, “you call us.”

“Only you. The others may continue as they are.”

A nod.

“My consort has a question for you.”

The Primary looked at Elena without blinking.

“Why Raphael and me?” she asked, her passionate nature inherent in the intensity of the question. “Why not Elijah and Hannah? They’re older, have been together longer.”

“You are aeclari, and the Legion may only serve aeclari.”

Archangel?

I do not know this term, Elena. “Tell us about aeclari.”

“Aeclari is you,” the Primary said, as if it made perfect sense.

Do you think if I shoot him, he’ll actually answer a question?

Raphael fought his laughter. I think it’s a case of asking the right questions. “You’re connected to the power that tried to fill me,” he said, his skin prickling with the awareness of it.

“We are the repository. We tried to pass it to the Sire, but the Sire is not yet ready.”

It was as clear an answer as he could’ve wished for, the whispers making sense now that he’d seen the Legion, understood how deeply they were linked to one another—as if they were one organism with many parts. “What happens when I’m ready? Do you vanish?”