Archangel's Resurrection (Guild Hunter #15)(39)

That idiot one with the blue-green hair makes me desire to burst my own eardrums so I no longer have to listen to him. Zanaya had never been able to stand big blustering types, though she had to admit she was charmed by Titus, son of Alexander’s respected First General Avelina. He might well be a glorious exception to her usual stance. What is his name again? Chief Idiot?

Aegaeon, you know full well his name is Aegaeon. You were both awake at the same time in the past.

You don’t like him, either, so stop pretending. And he’s a donkey’s ass in any time.

Alexander was far too controlled to throw up his hands, but she knew her lover. Yet despite her willingness—and tendency—to stir the pot, she paid attention when Titus “played” something he called a “recording.” Alexander was mentally translating for her when the others slipped into newer languages, and she filed the new words in her rapidly building hoard of what appeared to be a tongue in popular use.

She soon realized that a “recording” was a way to make memories concrete, so you could relive them at will.

A true wonder, but this memory was so gruesome that shocked silence befell them all.

An oily black fog that didn’t look like anything that should exist in their world had swallowed up Lijuan’s territory. Small creatures that wandered into it—birds, stray dogs, and the like—fell dead on the spot or emerged with such horrific injuries that mercy was the only option.

A slow creep of ice over her skin. “She is the Archangel of Death.” Horror curdled her stomach. “I see this now.” Turning to two Ancients who’d been blowing hot air, she said, “Do you not see?” She couldn’t understand their egotistical imprudence. “We wake before our time to take care of this menace.” The understanding of the general she’d once been. “We are not meant to live in this world. It is not our time.”

She’d spoken those last words—or ones similar to them—to Alexander once upon a time, in a futile attempt to make him understand that Sleeping wasn’t surrender. It was simply an artifact of age and time. He hadn’t agreed then, but though she didn’t look at him now, she knew he was with her on this: Lijuan needed to be stopped.

But too many stupid old ones were also awake. They refused to listen—and at last, Archangel Antonicus declared that he would fly into the murderous black fog that blanketed China. He was certain in his belief that he’d remain unaffected.

“He either has far more power than we know,” Alexander muttered to her after the meeting, “or he’s driven by conceit and pride.”

Zanaya tilted her head a touch to the side. “Have you become wise, lover? Time was, you were the most arrogant one of all.”

A pause, eyes of silver meeting her own. “I was considered a great statesman in my time, Zani. I grew while you Slept. Perhaps I’ve grown far beyond you.”

There it was; that bite of anger. He still hadn’t forgiven her for leaving him. And she still hadn’t forgiven him for not coming with her. “Oh, how you wound me.” She clutched theatrically at her heart, hiding the extent of her love for him as she’d always done.

He’d have too much power elsewise, would hold all the reins. For the Archangel of Persia was and would always be her greatest weakness. While power was his greatest weakness and greatest need. His love for Zanaya had never been able to compare—regardless of what he might’ve told himself.

Temper a pulsing nerve in his jaw, he said, “We have a little time before we need to fly to Neha’s territory to witness Antonicus’s attempt to breach the fog. We’re much closer to her than many others. I’m flying out to assist a region hit by a flash flood.”

Not wanting to be around Alexander when he could hurt her with such ease—and perhaps even without intent, which was somehow worse—she said, “I’ll fly over the closest of your mountainous regions, help anyone who needs it.” She made sure to keep a slight smile on her face. “I look forward to learning more from you in the future, oh wise one.”

Hands on his hips, he glared at her. “Why do you always manage to make me sound ridiculous?”

It hurt a little less when she saw that he was yet vulnerable to her barbs. “Someone has to keep you humble, Archangel Alexander.”

“Half my life, I’ve spent wanting to strangle you, I swear,” he muttered. “I’ll come with you. Valerius and his squadron don’t need me to handle the flood, and the mountain areas are the most isolated.”

“No. Don’t.” She gave him a flat glare. “I need a little distance from you.”

This time, the pause was longer. Then he said, “Have you not had enough, Zani? Eons of Sleep and still you don’t want to be close to me?”

Her anger crumbled, her fury turning into a wild passion and need that had only ever worn his name. “Damn you.” Striding across, she took his face in her hands, pressed her lips to his.

And for a moment that hung in time, they were just Xander and Zani, two lovers who had always been meant to be.

Then she was tearing away from him and leaving the room. So she could think. So she could breathe. Because their love? It had always been too much. Too big. Too demanding. If he wanted to strangle her, she wanted to push him away until she could be whole without him.

Except it was too late. It had been too late the first time she’d seen him.