Archangel's Resurrection (Guild Hunter #15)(60)

Bile rising, she asked the question that needed to be asked. “Can this being she has become be killed?”

Caliane’s eyes, so blue as to be gemstones, held infinite sorrow—and taut determination. “All we can do is try. The only other option is to swear allegiance to the goddess she believes herself to be and watch the world drown in death.”

Her attention taken up with the resulting discussion of battle tactics, Zanaya was only peripherally aware of Elena slipping out of the war room. Strategy would be critical here. Which led her to say, “We must protect Raphael.”

“Lady Zanaya,” Raphael began, his features tight.

She sliced out a hand. “This is nothing about you being the youngest of us, Raphael. It’s about you being our most powerful weapon. Our task must be to soften her up, yours to deal the death blow.”

Zanaya held the young archangel’s gaze again, and oddly enough, she could tell the difference between mother and child now. The same piercing hue . . . but Caliane’s held a weight of age it was impossible to quantify, while Raphael’s . . . carried a spark she couldn’t quite put into words.

Perhaps she, too, she thought all at once, had eyes like Caliane. Old eyes.

Shrugging that aside, she kept it to the practicalities. “Bluntly speaking, Raphael, you’ll have the most dangerous task of all. You’ll likely need to come face-to-face with her to strike a mortal blow.”

Alexander nodded from beside her. “Zanaya is right. We can’t fight as solo units as we’re all used to doing. We must be a team, with a single goal.” A glance at her, a million memories in his eyes.

Across from them, Raphael gave a slow nod. “But we also can’t have you wasting energy in active protection. Rather, we need to structure our strategy so you can focus wholly on wounding her—and in a way that leaves her flank open for my approach.”

“Can you eliminate her with a single strike?” Neha asked.

Raphael’s answer was a flat, “No. She’s too engorged on the lifeforce she stole from her people.”

“I truly wish to stab that bitch in the face,” Zanaya muttered. “But as I’m unlikely to get my wish, let’s work out how to wound and weaken her the most. I suggest we first annihilate her troops and overall support structure, forcing her to join the fight with no option to feed.”

“I’m not sure why you’re all worried,” Aegaeon boomed. “She’s one archangel! We can hit her hard and fast, and go back to our duties.”

Neha stirred, her face a thing of regal control. “Remember what happened to Antonicus. Simply being an Ancient, with powerful energies, will not protect you.” A strand of hair come loose from her braid touched the side of her face. “Don’t be an arrogant fool.”

Aegaeon puffed himself up. “Remember to whom you speak, girl. I was a ruler before you were ever a thought.”

He might as well be a bull, pawing at the ground. Shall we fetch him a cow from the field to mount?

Alexander ducked his head a touch, and she thought she’d almost made him burst out laughing. Behave, Zani. This is the most serious of business.

Look me in the face and tell me you disagree.

A glance at her, the slightest hint of humor. Now you have won and I must get my vengeance.

Hiding her own smile, Zanaya turned her attention back to the discussion. By some luck or mercy, they’d come to an agreement on battle plans by the time dawn kissed the skies.

“The tiredness of our troops is no longer a handicap,” Raphael said. “Not when we have all of you.” Hands placed against the edge of the table and wings held back with warrior control, he met each set of archangelic eyes in turn “Even the sheer numbers at her disposal can’t outweigh the power of ten archangels, four of them Ancients.”

If his first words had been hopeful, his next were as dark as the grave. “If there is a risk that you will be taken by the enemy and rescue is unlikely, do what must be done. We cannot know how strong she’ll become if she feeds on an archangel.”

Aegaeon’s big fists slamming down on the table. “You truly believe she would dare cross that line?”

Neha spoke the words in Zanaya’s heart. “She turned children into infected vampires. There is no line she will not cross.”

“Two hours until we strike.” Caliane’s son rose to his full height. “Prepare for battle.”





29


The plan was set, their tasks determined. Before leaving to take up the position from where she’d decimate the enemy forces with her tempests while Titus broke the earth and Alexander melted its metals, Zanaya stood for a moment on one of the Tower’s high balconies, her love by her side.

“I feel a sense of the portentous,” she said, staring out across this strange and lovely city already badly scarred by war.

“Have you decided you are Cassandra’s kin then, Zani?”

Laughing, she leaned slightly against him, overlapping his wing with her own. “Perhaps, lover, perhaps I am.” No matter the lightness of her words, the weight of a future unseen and unknown lay heavy on her shoulders.

Shifting so they faced one another, Alexander lifted a hand to cup the side of her face. His expression was open in a way she’d rarely seen in the final millennia of their time together, more reminiscent of the first blush of their relationship. “Promise me that we’ll talk after this war is over. That you won’t just go into Sleep again.”