Archangel's Light (Guild Hunter #14)(108)

Going to the tent he’d put up when the snow began to build on the ground, he placed Smoke on his bedroll, where she’d be comforted by his scent. Then, though he was exhausted, he flew far enough out to sea that the waters were deep and the waves wouldn’t wash anything back to shore.

The pendant was flat and small and thin on his palm when he pulled it out of his pocket. Hovering above the night-touched ocean, he lifted it to his mouth, pressed a gentle kiss on it. “Good-bye, Kaia. It was my joy to have known and loved you.”

Despite everything, he would never be sorry for having loved her, for she was part of the tapestry of his life, one thread weaving into the next. He wouldn’t be who he was today without her, and her memory would stay with him into eternity, a treasured part of his history.

But their time had passed lifetimes ago.

Heart at peace, he opened his hand and allowed the charm to float gently into the arms of the endless ocean.





52


Though he’d come to peace with his memory of Kaia, Illium remained edgy about Aodhan in the days that followed. He hated that they were so far apart when they’d just found their way back to each other. He’d had a nightmare the previous night that Aodhan would use the time apart to convince himself that he had to break the bonds of their relationship to find freedom.

What the fuck was wrong with him?

Aggravated with his own misbehaving subconscious, he slammed a beam into place, went to pick up one more. Suyin had asked him to track down some supplies, but he needed the physical outlet right now; he’d do the computer work once he’d burned off the tumult in his body and mind.

When Arzaleya waved him down from the sky, he thought about pretending he hadn’t seen her, but it wasn’t the general’s fault he was feeling pissy. He landed. “Yeah?” He shoved back the snow-damp strands of his hair at the same time, remembering how Aodhan had told him he needed a haircut.

“Package for you.” The other angel handed it over. “I saw it coming in and knew you wouldn’t be back to your tent till nightfall. Figured you might want to see it earlier. You should probably take a break anyway.”

Arzaleya raised an eyebrow. “You’re wearing out the crew with how fast you’re moving, and how much material you can shift on your own. Give them a breather or I’ll be dealing with a revolt.”

Illium scowled, but he didn’t argue. Fact was, he liked getting packages, and he was curious about who’d sent this and what was inside. If he had to guess the identity of the sender, he’d say Ellie or his mother. “I might grab something to eat.”

It wasn’t until after he’d wolfed down a filled roll, drunk half a bottle of fresh juice, and petted an insistent Smoke that he sat down on his favorite stone above the beach and looked at the package. It had come by angelic courier and was stamped with the seal of the Tower . . . but in the field for the sender’s identity was a name most unexpected: Aodhan.

He ran his fingers over the fluid black strokes, his cheeks suddenly hot. His fingers turned clumsy as he tried to tear open the box, until he finally made himself stop and take several deep breaths. Then he retrieved a pocketknife from his pants. The blade sharp as a razor, it took but a stroke to cut open the seal.

Inside was a small blue bag as familiar to Illium as his own sword. From Catalina’s bakery, it proved to hold her famous angel-wing alfajores, the filling in between coconut-infused dulce de leche. She’d come up with the initial recipe for the dulce de leche, while Lorenzo had struck on the idea of making the cookies in the shape of angel wings.

No one made cookies like Catalina. And she usually only made these in the holidays, which meant Aodhan must have placed a special order. Toes curling, Illium bit into one as he checked the other items.

A jar of his favorite peanut butter—a spread that Aodhan abhorred—a new book from a mortal author that Illium loved, a small bag of gourmet cat treats, a sealed pack of caramel-nut popcorn from Illium’s favorite snack store . . . and a handcrafted belt buckle that had been polished to a high, silvery shine. It was simple but for the feathers engraved on it and the stylized I hidden in among the feathers.

Putting aside the bag of cookies, he took off his belt. “You won’t like those,” he warned Smoke when she went to poke her nose into the bag. “Here, this is for you.” He took out one of the cat treats Aodhan had sent, and placed it in front of her.

Pouncing on it with glee, she ran off down the sand to enjoy it in some secret spot. He didn’t worry; she always found him when the day came to an end. Smoke taken care of, he replaced his belt buckle, and put the belt back on. It felt different. Heavier in a way that had nothing to do with actual weight.

No, it was as if it was full to the brim with all the emotions thick in his blood.

He swallowed, ate another cookie, and didn’t look for a letter or a note. Despite his beautiful penmanship, Aodhan wasn’t much for writing—even the messages he sent were short and to the point. No, Illium’s Adi spoke with his art, with his hands, with his talent. And with a belt buckle that he’d fashioned personally for Illium.

Closing up the box with care, he flew it to the tent.

He took the cookies with him when he returned to work, sharing them with the crew—who were happy to see him now that they’d caught up. No point hoarding the alfajores when they’d go stale now that he’d broken the seal. And he had what mattered most—confirmation that Aodhan hadn’t forgotten him. Stupid, how the fear haunted him . . . or maybe it wasn’t.