Archangel's Light (Guild Hunter #14)(68)

“I can’t answer that,” Keir had murmured, his wings a stir of golden-brown next to Aodhan and his power a quiet thing of profound depth, “but I think I have earned the right to say I know you, Aodhan. So I say with certainty that the memory rises now because you are ready now.”

Keir had been right. Aodhan had been ready to face the nightmare head-on. And so today, while it whispered to him, it didn’t derail his thoughts or suck him back into the darkness. “Do we still lure the child with food?” He knew he wasn’t rational on this topic, needed to rely on Illium’s clearer vision.

“It’s our best bet of catching them,” Illium confirmed. “Which is why I spent a few minutes heating up the food. The scent might help. We’re here to scare off any predators who might be drawn to it.”

Aodhan stayed on watch above while Illium landed. Where’s your new pet?

I left her with Kai, who will undoubtedly spoil her.

They both went silent as Illium stepped inside the passageway to place the food. I’ll leave it close to the door. More chance of the scent reaching them—and less of us having to chase them deep inside the cavern. Last thing I want to do is freak out a kid.

An out-of-control and scared child would be no match for two angels of their strength—but they’d be trying not to hurt the child, while that child would have no such compunction.

Blue?

I’m done, but I was thinking I should go farther inside, hide in the shadows. If the child does come in, you can land behind them, while I’ll be in front. We should be able to make a quick capture.

Aodhan’s neck muscles knotted, his biceps rigid. It’s not safe down there.

Illium didn’t give him a smart-ass reply about how the mountain wasn’t about to fall down on him. He said, I’ll stay in touch throughout. In fact, I’ll tell you bedtime stories while you freeze your ass off in the snow.

The snow was increasing in force, but Aodhan had flown for hours through worse. I hope the caravan is out of range of this snow front.

Even if not, Illium said, they’re prepared to hunker down. Still . . . I didn’t want to bring it up with Suyin, but were things really that bad with the survivors that the move had to be now? Everyone looked like they were soldiering on to me, but I know I only glimpsed the surface.

Yes, Aodhan confirmed, remembering the hollow-eyed man who’d woken to repack his belongings. China’s people are broken. Not only the mortals. Any surviving vampires and angels, too, even those that followed Lijuan into war. Being close to a physical reminder of Lijuan, it was leeching away their ability to be happy in any real sense.

We saw it, but thought they would make it through winter. I, myself, hadn’t understood the depth of their growing depression until Suyin made her pronouncement and I saw hope return to their faces—she proved herself a true archangel that day, Illium, by seeing what even those living the pain couldn’t.

In angelkind, such depression was simply called “mind darkness.” Aodhan’s mind had gone dark for a long, long time after his captivity, the shadows so infinite that he’d barely been able to glimpse the light. He would’ve castigated himself for not picking up the populace’s increasing despair if Suyin alone hadn’t been the one to spot it.

Sometimes, it took an archangel. Because an archangel wasn’t formed by power alone.

One angel said to me that they’d rather fall under the weight of snow on their wings, than shrivel up inside the tainted walls of the stronghold.

Illium’s response was swift. I get it.

Of course he did. Because he’d witnessed Aodhan’s spiral into despair firsthand. It hadn’t been right after his rescue. He’d been badly physically injured then, but he’d been present—and focused on his recovery. The mind darkness had come after his body was whole once more, his wings capable of flight. But he hadn’t flown.

He’d fallen.





36



Yesterday

It was Naasir who finally found Aodhan.

Twenty-three months of relentless searching and it was Naasir’s primal ability to follow scent trails that led them to Aodhan. Raphael had made the strategic decision to pretend to stop looking and allow everyone to believe they’d given up on the lost young angel—but he’d made the decision on Naasir’s advice.

“Sometimes, predators hide their prey,” Naasir had said, his eyes not in any way human. “Hide it so well that no one else can find it. They only come out when they think the coast is clear—that’s when they can get careless, and that’s when we’ll strike.”

Because they all, each and every one, knew this had nothing to do with an accident on a courier run, Aodhan’s body lost to the ocean. Aodhan had always been coveted—unhealthily so by many.

Now, one of those ugly obsessives had taken him.

Raphael respected Naasir’s advice and wild instincts, but he hadn’t been certain the gambit would work—and he’d hated the anguish of Aodhan’s parents and Lady Sharine. They all believed he’d given up in truth—because he couldn’t let them in on the plan; they all loved Aodhan too deeply not to give away the game.

Illium, of course, had had to know. The three-hundred-year-old angel who’d been on the road to make squadron commander of an elite squadron prior to Aodhan’s disappearance, had lost considerable weight, his cheeks hollow and his shoulder blades sharp—but he’d lost none of his strength. Rather, he’d made a concerted effort to force nutrition into his mouth.