Archangel's Resurrection (Guild Hunter #15)(54)

“How will I face my parents when they wake next?” The words of a son, not an archangel. “They tasked me with taking care of him.”

“You did.” She squeezed his arms. “You watched over him for an endless span of time. And even at the end, you didn’t judge him at first glance, didn’t condemn him without evidence.”

But Osiris’s crime had left Alexander no other option.

Angelkind might not value mortals except for the function they provided when it came time to purge the toxin in angelic blood, but children were sacred regardless of the future length of their lives. Angels had saved countless mortal children over the millennia. A number had even raised orphaned mortal children.

The one thing angels were never ever meant to do was harm a child.

“Osiris,” she said when Alexander remained silent, “made a choice that left you with only a single one.”

He didn’t reply. He just held her, this warrior with a huge heart who’d had it torn to pieces by one of the few people he’d ever permitted himself to love. How could he believe that heart was as hard as stone when his grief was as potent today as that cold day in the snow?

But a mere breath later, there was no more time for them to sit still, for her to hold him and let him know it was all right to grieve. Alexander stiffened, his next words that of a general. “Valerius tells me we have reborn pouring out from the direction of the border with Neha.”

Zanaya asked no more questions, just moved with warrior speed to ready herself.

They flew out soon afterward, and this time, she wore leathers that fit her surprisingly well for having been made by his staff in the short time since her rising. They were soft, the leather well worked, and she could move with ease.

Good.

Alexander had already given her enough information about reborn that she was prepared for what she might see once they flew past the line formed by the squadron that was keeping the creatures in check.

Strange, but the warriors seemed hesitant to kill, were just driving back the unliving beings with strikes close but not close enough to end them.

Then she saw. “Alexander, they are children.” Her blood curdled with acidic horror, she couldn’t stop looking at the atrocity below, the ugliness of what Lijuan had done so awful that it blew past the memory of even Osiris’s terrible crimes.

“Yes.” No surprise in Alexander’s tone. “I received the information as we were flying here. I should’ve passed it on to you.”

“It is no matter.” She understood why he’d stayed silent. The news had been too much coming on top of the memories he’d just relived; he’d needed time to come to terms with it before he could speak of it.

“I was hoping perhaps,” Alexander added, his tone harsh in the way it got when he was holding back strong emotion, “that they could be saved.”

Zanaya understood his hope. But looking down at those twisted faces, those half-rotting bodies, she knew there could be no saving these blameless souls. “We must offer mercy.” The words stuck in her throat; never in all her existence had she raised her hand to a child.

“She has done this on purpose.” Alexander’s voice was razored steel. “She knows it’ll demoralize our troops to have to cut down children.”

Such evil, Zanaya thought. “We must go first.” Because they were both generals who led from the front.

“Yes.” Alexander went to shift forward, paused with his head angled toward the west. “There are more.” Harsh words. “Nests bursting open all across my territory. She has seeded the landscape with her malevolence.” His jaw worked. “Neha must be facing the same, and possibly even Michaela. We’re the three closest archangels to Lijuan. She wants us busy.”

“I hope to get to kill her.” Zanaya’s eyes felt red with fury. “After this, there can be no more arguments about interfering in the territory of another archangel. She must die.”

Alexander gave a grim nod, then flew ahead.

She allowed him to do so, for this was his territory and he had to strike the first blow. It would break his heart, this she knew. Because Alexander was not Osiris; her general had never hurt a child in his life.

And so began uncountable hours of horror.

They separated at some point, flying with archangelic speed to different areas of the territory. Before they did so, he told her that Michaela was flying to join them. Her territory had thankfully proved free of this spirit-crushing infestation.

Even with three archangels in the mix, however, the battle felt interminable, the dead children given false life accusing them with silent eyes as they fell under their power. Zanaya cried more than once and she wasn’t ashamed of it.

There was no shame in crying for the murder of innocence.

Zani?

I’m holding, she told Alexander, knowing exactly why he’d reached out. How are you?

Dying piece by piece, was the answer spoken in a voice curt and martial. But it must be done. They’re no longer alive, no matter what Lijuan may have convinced herself.

She tried to keep that thought uppermost in her mind in the hours that she spent on the fields bathed in the blood of beings who’d had nothing, nothing to do with this war. She was as merciful as possible, using her power wherever she could—so that they would die in a single strike, turned to ash before they ever felt even a touch of pain.