Archangel's Light (Guild Hunter #14)(109)

His mother had forgotten him.

It was a thing about which he tried not to think, tried not to look full in the face. Not even Aodhan knew about it. He hadn’t told. Ever. And he’d never ever bring it up with his mother. It would destroy her. But during the worst years, when she’d wandered the far depths of the kaleidoscope, there had been three terrible times when she’d forgotten Illium.

Only three times.

Seconds-long pauses where she’d looked at him without recognition.

Then the wrench at the unraveled threads of her memory as she fought to remember.

A forgetting and a remembering that had happened so fast he could’ve lied to himself, told himself he’d imagined it. Except he hadn’t. He knew how his mother looked at him, how her eyes warmed with love and with joy no matter if she was aggravated or annoyed by him . . . but those three times, she’d glanced at him with nothing more than polite inquiry in her gaze.

Three points of horror in his life, as he wondered if this was it, the final loss, his mother gone forever.

He brushed his hand over the belt buckle, a talisman against the dark. And unlike the pendant he’d carried for so long, this one wasn’t a memory of sorrow, but a gift of hope.

Grinning, he got back to work.

    Thanks for the belt buckle. It’s perfect.

The new citadel is going up piece by piece and I have to say, it’s shaping up to be the kind of building that will make a mark. It’s not the Tower and it’s not Caliane’s Amanat. It’s very much Suyin’s Citadel.

Send more cookies next time. They were a hit.

Smoke approves of your offering. You may present her with more.

No extra weirdness to report.



Aodhan’s lips kicked up as he finished reading the message on his phone. He might be new to being the one who did the looking after, but it appeared that he was getting it right.

And because he remembered how his silence had hurt Illium, he made an effort to send back a message. He wasn’t as good at this type of thing as Illium, but that had never mattered between them.

    I’ll order two dozen cookies next time. And I won’t forget Smoke.

Send me a few images of the citadel in progress when you have time—it’s strange not to help build it after being so involved in the planning process.

It’s good to be home in New York.



He almost ended it there, but then made himself add the rest. Both because it was true—and because Illium deserved to know: It’s not the same without you.

Illium, open of heart and far too quick to forgive, replied with: Miss you too. Might even watch a horror movie in your honor. But I draw the line at blood and gore.

Aodhan stared down at his phone. “What will I do with you, Blue? You let the people you love take total advantage of you.” His fingers closing over the phone, he looked to the horizon, searching for wings of blue that were on the other side of the world.

You and that heart of yours really need a damn keeper.

Do I hear you volunteering?

No, I’m not volunteering. The position is already mine.

Aodhan intended to hold on to that position with teeth and claws. He’d never thought of himself as a possessive angel, but when it came to Illium . . .

Eyes narrowed as he stared out at the New York skyline from the Enclave land that had once held Elena and Raphael’s home, he checked the time, then called Illium. He picked up after a couple of rings. “Sparkle,” he said, the shouts of the rest of the crew background music, and his smile in his voice. “Can’t talk long. Crew needs me to bring through another beam.”

“I just need you to answer one question.”

“Yeah?”

“Is Kai still flirting with you?” He carried on before Illium could answer. “Because if she is, I’m flying back there even if it causes a diplomatic incident—and I’m going to make damn sure she understands that you belong to me.”

A taut pause, Illium’s voice a little rough as he said, “Do I?”

“Yes.” No games now, no crossed signals or things unsaid. “And I belong to you.” It was still hard for him to say that, to give control over himself to another person . . . but this wasn’t just another person.

This was Illium. His Blue.

“I said good-bye to Kaia.” Illium’s voice was husky now. “Over the ocean. Her charm sleeps in the deep now.”

Aodhan sucked in a quiet breath, for this, he had never expected. “Are you sure, Illium?” He might not have liked Kaia, but he’d always understood that she was one of the defining features of Illium’s youth. That was why he’d never made any comment about Illium’s attachment to the charm, no demand that he give it up.

“Beyond any doubt. It got to be habit and comfort more than anything else—just a physical anchor when I needed it.” The way he said that, it made Aodhan realize he’d really thought his decision through. “As of today, I’ve swapped that anchor for another—I’ve touched my fancy new belt buckle so many times that it’s all smudged. Guess I better stock up on polish.”

Aodhan’s lips twitched. “I’ll make you something smaller to play with.” The other angel had always had a way of fiddling with things—whatever was around, whether that was a throwing knife, a pebble, a paintbrush in Aodhan’s studio, anything with which he could occupy his hands.