Archangel's Light (Guild Hunter #14)(23)

His hand spasmed to lock around his tumbler.





Illium’s Flaw caused Illium’s Fall.

    —Angelic aphorism





13


The kitchen appeared empty and for a second, sheared in two by a sense of keening loss, Illium thought he’d imagined her. But no, there she was in one corner, having just refilled her jug.

“Oh.” She pressed a hand to her heart, her fingers long and slender.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.” He felt desperate, almost feral, but he forced himself to keep his distance, keep a smile on his face. “I finished my mead already.” He held out the tumbler he’d somehow had the presence of mind to pick up. “I don’t suppose you’d give me more?”

Her cheeks went pink. “Of course, Angel.”

“Illium,” he corrected again, keeping his voice gentle.

One sleek wing of hair sliding across the softness of her cheek as she poured his drink, she whispered, “Illium,” and he fell back in time, to a laughing season of life when his heart had been unbruised and wide open and Kaia’s wicked smile had owned him.

Her descendant’s smile was softer and appeared more shy at first glance, but the subtle sensuality to it tugged on his memories. “Thank you,” he said after his tumbler was full, but didn’t leave. “Did you travel far to come here?”

She nodded. “We heard the archangel had settled here, and so we came.” Quiet, musical, her voice was pleasing to the ear.

Kaia had sung like a bird, her voice a clear mountain song.

This isn’t her, he reminded himself, but couldn’t help from asking, “Are you leaving with Archangel Suyin tomorrow?” If she was, he’d dream of her until he saw her again.

“No. I’m staying behind to help close up the stronghold, do the final cleanup.”

His entire being exhaled. “Then I’ll see you again soon,” he murmured, forcing himself to step back.

She sucked in a breath, but her lips curved. And there it was—that hint of passionate confidence, the wildness of spirit that had so drawn him to Kaia.

He carried Kai’s smile with him as he returned to the meeting table. Even as he replied to a comment from Yindi, he rubbed a thin metal disk between his thumb and forefinger, having retrieved the keepsake from his pocket on his walk back to his seat. Old and smooth, it was no longer a memorial to all he’d lost, but a talisman to the future.

He’d be able to concentrate now that he knew Kai wouldn’t disappear if he turned around. When Aodhan glanced at him, Illium found himself smiling, in charity with the world. Maybe his tour of duty here wouldn’t be so bad after all.

A whisper of power as Suyin entered the room. It shouldn’t have been a whisper, should’ve been a wall. But Illium had said his piece—there was a point beyond which you couldn’t push any archangel.

Only consorts and seconds had that right.

When he turned his attention toward Aodhan, it was to see him looking at Suyin without any strong emotion on his face—but Illium knew he was speaking to his archangel mind-to-mind. Putting his neck on the line because it was a second’s job to check their archangel if necessary.

Suyin gave a slight incline of her head before she took her seat.

Silence fell.

“You know that tomorrow,” she began in her quiet, composed way, “we move from this stronghold, and toward the coast.” She took a sip of the wine Aodhan had poured her. “During the break, I had a chance to assess our readiness, and I’m pleased to say the vast majority of the work has already been done.”

“The mortals?” Jae asked, and as she leaned forward, Illium spotted the outline of a gun under her shoulder. “They’ve nested the deepest.”

“I thought so, too,” Suyin said, “but when I spoke to Rii—”

The one the mortals have chosen to represent them, Aodhan’s voice filled in for Illium even as Suyin continued to speak.

“—he told me that most of them never unpacked. All were certain I wouldn’t be content with a home borrowed from Lijuan.” A faint, ironic smile. “It does terrible things to the archangelic ego when mortals see more clearly.”

No laughter, because despite her light words, sorrow soaked her tone. “The mortals sensed what we all now know—that Lijuan stained this place with her evil.” Sighing, she leaned back in her chair—one designed for wings, with a central spine and no sides. “I’m certain that some of the mortals continue to worship her as a goddess, but the rest see her for the monster she became.”

“They are foolish,” bit out Maximus, his fisted hand a mallet on the table. “Small minds, no sense of understanding.”

Illium bristled. He’d always been far more connected to mortals than most immortals. Not only because of Kaia; he’d had mortal friends throughout his lifetime, and he remembered the name of each and every one.

Even as he went to open his mouth, Aodhan said, “Peace, Maximus. You may as well say the same for those angels who remain loyal to her. You know they exist—any number of the survivors of the war are only in China and part of Archangel Suyin’s forces because no one else will have them.”

The rebuke was quietly delivered, its impact unmistakable.