Archangel's Light (Guild Hunter #14)(58)

“No feathers, no sign of damage caused by angelic wings crashing into things,” Aodhan said, but he didn’t like the idea of Illium flying off alone—because they both knew it made sense for the faster, more agile flyer to go.

“On the flip side,” he said, “Suyin is with the caravan and will be able to take on any threat.” No angel, regardless of their strength or age, could stand up to the might of an archangel. “The vulnerable are well protected in the center of the caravan—and the fact this assailant avoided the stronghold tells me they aren’t confident enough to take on people more powerful.”

Hands on his hips, Illium glanced over to where Smoke was pouncing on invisible prey. “Aerial sweep? Then we decide on our next step.”

After Aodhan nodded his assent, Illium said, “I’ll go to the right.” Striding over, he picked up the kitten and put her inside his tee—after tucking the hem into his jeans.

“She’ll claw you bloody.”

Illium stroked the small creature who’d poked her head out of the neckline, a furry little growth with twitching whiskers. “Nah. She likes me.” Another stroke. “Stay in contact.”

“Don’t take chances.”

Illium gave a small salute and they took off in a rush of air, their wings powerful in flight. Neither one of them blended into the dark gray of the sky, but that was a risk they’d have to take. Aodhan’s section included the stronghold, and he took care to check every corner of it. If the killer or killers had been watching events unfold, they could now believe the stronghold empty, open for squatting.

He saw no signs of an attempted incursion. No shards of glass glittering in the dying light of day, no damage to the areas with shutters. Regardless, he landed and spoke to Li Wei. “Stay inside until we return,” he told her.

“If a vampire or mortal comes to the door asking for sanctuary, don’t allow them inside. Throw out food or bedding from a higher floor if you judge it safe. If not, or if it’s an angel, hide in the most secure place in the stronghold—underground.” No one who didn’t know of the nexus would ever find it.

Li Wei nodded, her cream-hued skin holding the smooth beauty of an old vampire and her eyes sharp. “Our work is inside regardless. I’ll make sure my staff understands.”

Aodhan spotted Kai in the background as he left, found himself irritated by the way she smiled at him. What was wrong with him? His and Illium’s problems had nothing to do with the mortal woman who wore Kaia’s face . . . but he still wished she weren’t here, in this time and place.

Her mere existence threatened to derail any healing Illium had done, to throw him right back into an agonizing moment that had almost broken Aodhan’s bright, blue-winged best friend.





Love has a way of crushing a man until nothing remains.

    —Dmitri, Second to Archangel Raphael





32



Yesterday

Aodhan went looking for Illium as soon as he found out what had happened. Even though he knew all the places his best friend went to when he wanted to be alone, it still took him hours to track him down.

Eschewing all his favored locations, Illium had gone to a cold and craggy outcropping on the far edge of the Refuge, a place overhung by spears of ice above a carpet of shattered boulders. Nothing thrived here, not even the tiny frost-resistant succulents that grew in other icy places. It was often called The Cold because no matter the season it was a place of no warmth, all hardness and jagged shards.

Illium hated it.

Now he sat hunched over on one of the rocks, the stunning blue of his wings violent slashes of color against all that grim gray and ice. He wore only his faded boots and an old pair of pants that he used for training, his upper body bare.

Landing, Aodhan sat down next to him and immediately wrapped a wing around his exposed upper half. Angels didn’t feel the cold as mortals did, but Illium was barely beyond his majority. The cold might not kill him, but it could cause vicious hurt.

“Your skin is like ice.” Aodhan curled his wing tighter even as he curved his other wing around in front of them, to better conserve the heat in the space in between—where Illium sat cold and silent. “We have to get you off this mountain.”

Illium said nothing—and he didn’t move. And while Aodhan was strong, he wasn’t strong enough to carry an unwilling Illium down into the warmer zones. Instead he tried to use his nascent power to warm up his friend. That power was less than nothing in immortal terms, but as young as he was, Aodhan wasn’t complaining.

The only angel similar to his age he knew of who had even a hint of power sat mute beside him. And mere droplet or not, it was enough to add a whisper of heat to the air, enough to bring a little color to Illium’s skin. But still he didn’t move or show any other sign of life.

“I know you’re proud of your coloring,” Aodhan said, as his heart squeezed, “but trying to turn yourself blue is taking it too far.”

Illium didn’t react to Aodhan’s attempt to lighten the moment—of the two of them, it was Illium who was the one forever trying to make people smile. Aodhan didn’t do jokes except for rare low-voiced pieces of aggravated sarcasm that sent Illium into choked laughter.

“Warn me next time, why don’t you?” he’d said the last time around, after he’d nearly lost it in public.